3. Shots in the Dark

"Yes, what is it?"

...

"Really? Interesting."

...

"No, of course I didn't know. You've debugged the system the last time I was there."

"Hey, I retired from Iron Manning, not from sanity."

"Alright. I'll keep that in mind."

Tony lowered his cell phone when the steady beep told him that Hill had hung up after a hasty goodbye.

He leaned back in his office chair that had cost more than what the salespeople in the furniture retailer made in a year. He glared at the holographic designs he had been working on without really seeing anything except glowing lines. He was too deep in thought. Hill's news were a bit troubling, but mostly interesting. True to the usual conduct of S.H.I.E.L.D., Hill had been tight-lipped about the extent of their problems, but Tony was so far in the inside circles that he had been informed that S.H.I.E.L.D. might have a security leak and that an assassin might be targeting people the Avengers Initiative had brought together. It was a couple of "mights" too many. Tony was the kind of person to turn subjunctives into indicatives, to want to search for better solutions even when others put their hands up and said "it's as good as we can make it." That was what had made him so good at discovering technological breakthroughs and making a crapload of money in the process.

Now Tony had retired from the suit and the shrapnel, and he knew Hill's warning had just been to make sure he wouldn't be as easily taken by surprise if the assassin really did decide to come after him. But Tony figured he could use his spare time for additional research and save S.H.I.E.L.D. some trouble. He would have to put his latest tech design on hold, as well as his little side project of figuring out how mythical spirits came to be, but he supposed it would be worth it. He would be helping his friends, after all.

He thought about the assassin. "The Taskmaster", according to Hill. A silly name, but Tony had to admit that silliness kind of was in the job description of both superheroes and supervillains – if this Taskmaster really was one. Did a mask and a gimmick automatically make one "super" anyway? Tony hummed amusedly at the thought and then switched off the blueprint hologram. He opened one of his slightly less futuristic computers and got to work. He had some favours to ask. And quite a few systems to hack.

"Tony? Who just called?"

Oh, right. Tony should have expected something like this wouldn't stay secret from Pepper Potts for too long. He heard Pepper's high heels clicking to a stop at the door.

"It was Hill," Tony said, "Apparently Clint was attacked by an assassin and she wanted to let me know."

"What?" Pepper asked, more worried than surprised, "Never a break with these kinds of things, then?"

From the almost nonchalance of Pepper's question, Tony figured she had been around him for too long. And he had been around weirdness for too long. When a surprise attack by an assassin became as likely as the toast falling butter-side down, something was maybe a bit wrong with your life.

"Breaks have been on short supply lately, I know," he said

"So what are you doing now?"

Pepper looked over Tony's shoulder at the computer screens, and Tony could almost heard Pepper put two and two together in a nanosecond. He tried his best to ignore Pepper's mildly disapproving look. It wasn't easy. Ignoring Pepper was one of the hardest feats Tony could think of, mostly because he never wanted to ignore her. She was simply too important for him.

"I'd guess you were warned about this assassin so that you would lay low instead of starting to poke around all sorts of files to track him down."

Tony looked back at Pepper when her a little too reasonable comment broke his train of thought. Pepper was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed and her grey eyes drilling holes into Tony in a very calm, friendly way. It was an expression only Pepper could pull off. She had her reddish blonde hair down and she was wearing a dark blue blouse with a matching skirt, looking both sharp and sexy in Tony's opinion.

"I'm not looking for him so I could challenge him to a fist fight," Tony said a bit defensively, "If I happen to find anything I'll just relay it to Fury."

Pepper's stare intensified a bit.

"I'm serious!" Tony said, "And yeah... fine. I'll get some actual work done, too."

Pepper sighed.

"I'm not here to order you around. Not right now anyway. I just want you to remember that you're still recovering."

"So are you," Tony said quietly, instinctively looking Pepper over for any possible side effects their latest battle could have left on her. She had been kidnapped and injected with a virus that boosted people's physical abilities and made them able to regenerate insanely fast with the downside that it could make them also explode. Tony had to remind himself for the thousandth time that Pepper was stable now, had been for months with no side effects. Still, Tony couldn't just let go of the fear that he would wake up one day and find his girlfriend in pieces all over their penthouse. He shuddered at the thought and tried to shoo it out of his head.

"I'll just check a few things, then get back on track."

Pepper's hand brushed Tony's shoulder, and Tony put his hand over hers. He squeezed her hand and tried to ground himself with the knowledge that Pepper was okay and right there. With him. Usually it worked. This time it didn't.


Sanderson Mansnoozie, the Sandman, was a busy legend. He, just like the Tooth Fairy, worked every night. And there was always night somewhere on Earth. He had got used to the routine a long time ago. Well, he himself wouldn't call it routine. He loved his job because dreams were always exciting, inspiring and unexpected even to him. It had been his job to deliver the sweetest of those dreams ever since he had crash landed on Earth all those centuries ago. Now he was even busier than usual, seeing how he also needed to both watch for signs of Pitch Black, and find Emily Jane, whom mortals called Mother Nature.

Sandy sailed across the night sky on his golden cloud of dreamsand, never stopping his work on the delicate but powerful dreams that circled around him for a few playful laps before diving down to find the sleeping people below. He sent a couple of inspirational birds of paradise and an exciting three-headed dog down and then looked further up into the sky. There were shiny night clouds in there, and a crisp chill in the air. Sandy knew this chill was Jack Frost's doing, and not left by Emily Jane. Young Jack's cold was more playful and his snowstorms were fierce and untamed. Emily Jane was much more melancholic and controlled, except when she got angry. And it was rare that she would stray into Jack's territory and start an actual blizzard. Sandy was grateful to Jack. The boy was taking so much of his time to help Sandy search. Toothiana was far too busy with teeth, and both Bunnymund and North were more bound to the ground. Besides, Jack knew the winds better than even Sandy did, which had proven to be an invaluable asset now that Emily Jane had shielded herself from almost everyone but nature itself. Jack had many times almost got her just by conversing with the winds. But she had slipped away every time. Whether it had been by choice or by coincidence, Sandy wasn't sure yet. He needed to find out. Emily Jane was aloof, and they had perhaps grown apart too much, but Sandy wanted to think of her as his friend. Even though they hadn't talked in decades and Sandy should probably be more formal and think of her as Mother Nature instead of by her name. Still, she was a friend, and friends helped when something was bothering the other.

Sandy had just finished weaving an especially intricate dream that the child it was going to would transform into something even more complex when the wind picked up, biting Sandy's fingertips cheerfully. Jack Frost dropped from the air and landed on Sandy's dreamsand cloud. The boy looked excited and judging by his hair that was even more windswept than usual, he had been flying to Sandy as fast as the wind could take him. Jack's bright blue eyes were alight with childish glee.

"I found her!" he proclaimed, "C'mon! We need to hurry!"

Sandy gave a thumbs-up and then formed a question mark above his head with his dreamsand.

"She's near the Himalayas," Jack said, pointing towards the mountaintops in the distance, "Not too far from here. C'mon!"

Sandy followed the excited young spirit, transforming his dreamsand cloud into an aeroplane to keep up with the boy. Jack led him all the way to some of the lower mountains of the Himalayas, a place with views Sandy hadn't got tired of even after all his years of circling the globe. Mountains after mountains, with snowy slopes Jack had no doubt had some hand in decorating. In the midst of the mountains floated a mass of clouds, and Jack pointed at it.

"See her?"

Sandy nodded. Emily Jane hadn't changed at all from the last time he had seen her. Not that it was anything unusual with people like them. She stood in the air in the middle of the clouds and looked down at the mountaintops. Her hair floated in all directions with the air currents, her robes flared majestically around her, and her eyes sparked with recognition when she saw them.

"Sanderson. Jackson," she said curtly, "You have been following me for weeks. What is it you want from me?"

We think you know already, Sandy mimed at her. Emily Jane nodded.

"You wish to talk to me. But why?"

"You've been messing with weather" Jack spoke up, crossing his arms, "That's got everyone on edge. Did you think we wouldn't do something about it?"

We were worried about you, Sandy added.

"Don't get all familiar on me, Jackson," Mother Nature said, "And you definitely aren't one to talk about messing around with things. As for you, Sanderson: there is nothing wrong with me."

But you are worried.

"Of course I am. Haven't you sensed it?"

"Sensed what?" Jack asked.

Mother Nature raised her hand, combing her fingers through the air that warmed up at her touch.

"The boundaries of this world have weakened," she said, "Now all sorts of creatures have broken through. The Chitauri, the Asgardians... and that's not all. The Earth can feel it. Somewhere out there is yet another uninvited entity with their sights set on Earth."

Sandy frowned. He knew what Emily Jane spoke of. He had felt it too. The tiny tears in reality that came about when too much foreign forces strained Earth. It wasn't unheard of. Aliens had come here before; Sandy was one of them, though he hadn't arrived by choice. Just like Mother Nature herself. But before these last couple of years, everything had been quiet for centuries.

"Old Man Thor has been taking care of those otherworldly guys pretty well, and he's staying on Earth now," Jack said, but Sandy could hear even the boy wasn't ignorant of the tearing reality, "The other Avengers haven't been too shabby either. You think they can't handle it?"

"They might," Mother Nature admitted, "But it doesn't matter. I am not about to let anyone else come here and start another fight again. Humans fight amongst themselves enough as it is."

What are you going to do?

"Some have come through again. Asgardians, who hide very well. I am going to find them and then drive them off before they can cause trouble."

Sandy and Jack exchanged glances.

"There are Asgardians here? Other than Thor?"

"It seems that way," Emily Jane said bitterly, "They have caused nothing but trouble lately."

If that's the case, you should probably let Thor take them back, Sandy reasoned.

Emily Jane seemed to consider this. Sandy was surprised. He hadn't expected her to listen to him so easily, even after everything they had been through in the past.

"That does sound sensible," she finally admitted, "I... thank you, Sanderson. Perhaps I will tell him. You don't have to get involved in this."

Sandy had known she would say that. Mother Nature worked on her own whims, alone with the world. She turned to leave, then halted for another thoughtful moment before speaking again:

"I will try to keep the weather calm."

There was an undercurrent of regret in her voice. Maybe she had let the weather rage freely when she had searched for the Asgardians that seemed to vex her quite a bit. Maybe she just hadn't realized just how much the effects had been noticed. She departed with the clouds, leaving Jack and Sandy above the mountains.

"You think she'll settle the weather now?" Jack asked.

Sandy nodded.

She doesn't want to be feared, he messaged, taking great care to form every image clearly.

"Right. Should we be more worried about those Asgardians?"

Sandy shrugged thoughtfully. Perhaps they should at least be on their guard. They would have to inform North, Tooth, and Bunny about this. It was time for a Guardian meeting.


When Thor Odinson had first been sent to Earth, he would have never imagined he would like it enough to one day want to stay. He was an Asgardian, similar in appearance but so different in nature than humans. Humans were fragile and did not know magic. Some of them had worshipped the Asgardians as gods. But Thor had to admit that he had come to see the beauty of Earth, of humans, in no small part thanks to the lovely Jane Foster, who now slept peacefully in the home Thor shared with her. He could hardly believe his father had let him have this life. He should have become the new king of Asgard, in a time that seemed so long ago now, but instead of a palace and power he had chosen love and a house in a suburb. His fellow protector of the Earth, Mr. Stark, had called it clichéd. That was a bit insulting in Thor's opinion.

Right now, Thor could not sleep. It wasn't because of stress or noise or any other thing the humans usually complained about. Well, if he had to pick he would go with the noise. The Earth did sound a lot different from his home. But he had got used to the Earth sounds easily enough. What really troubled him now was more a specific call than random sounds. Something, or someone, clearly wished to talk to him. He had been standing for an hour at the window of his new home, staring outside as if he could drag the caller in with just a thought. He knew it wouldn't happen, though. He had no power that could do that. He spared a glance at the bedroom behind him, watching the quiet rise and fall of the bed covers. Whatever the call was about, it was probably meant only for him. Jane didn't seem to have been disturbed. He hesitated briefly and finally gave in. He threw a jacket over his nightclothes, put on his shoes and silently opened the front door.

The call led him to one of the parks near his home. The park was serene and empty in the night, but Thor didn't allow himself to lower his guard. He still did not know who had called him, and that made it even more suspicious. It wasn't anyone of his family, that was for sure. It wasn't any of the heroes he had fought with in the past – their way of messaging was far different. This was magic so subtle that humans couldn't discern it from the air they breathed, yet it was everywhere. And it had called him. Why? He was not about to let go of it until he found out.

Thor stopped walking when he came into a thicket of trees at the edge of the park. It was still dead silent, but in front of him he could see the air solidifying into a shape. She wore the clouds, the nature around her as simple but elegant robes. Her black hair was not completely separated from the air, but faded ethereally into it. Her eyes were bright and hard, and her mouth was set into a grim line. Thor was taken aback. Not so much by her grave expression as by simply her being there. It couldn't be... could it?

"Gaia?" he whispered.

She tilted her head, irritation evident on her pale, coldly beautiful face. A gust of wind blew through the park.

"No," she said in a voice that echoed in the leaves and in the wind, "There is something you should know, Mr. Odinson."


Tony had finally left his work for a moment in order to take Pepper out for dinner. It was the least he could do after once again realizing Pepper had managed to get most of his problems for the week solved while he had struggled with something more pointless. Like finding clues about the assassin named the Taskmaster. There was something that bothered Tony about the case. He had found out very quickly that the "security leak" meant that someone had stolen weapon designs. By using legitimate agent's codes, which indicated the possibility of someone going rogue. The codes were from a KIA agent whose apparent death and the first sightings of the Taskmaster were suspiciously close to one another. It could be that... no. This wasn't the time. Finding that guy wasn't even his job. His job right now was managing the Stark Industries and trying to get his psyche to fully recover. He supposed one of the ways to do that was to take his girlfriend out on a normal date and trying not to worry about either of them exploding.

Tony had to admit that the night was a lot more fun and a lot more relaxing than any other night had been in months. The restaurant they went to wasn't the most ridiculously expensive in town, but it was definitely classy and served some damn good food. And he and Pepper could talk there. About mundane things that could be talked about without caring if someone overheard. Tony found himself actually relaxing and spending two whole hours without thinking about anything too stressful or complicated. At the end of it they were both pleasantly tipsy and walked back to Tony's car while chatting and laughing like a couple of high schoolers.

"Man, Steve is missing out."

Pepper frowned a bit at the out-of-place comment.

"Why? Because he doesn't go on dates?"

"Nah. Because he can't get drunk."

Pepper laughed.

"At least he won't do anything stupid under the influence."

"No, he's gonna have to take all the blame himself when he's being stupid," Tony said, "Not that it happens too often. The guy's a boy scout."

He took a moment to look at the darkening sky. There was a distant blink of reflecting light on top of a building.

"You know, if I wasn't a little drunk right now, I'd realize how happy I am and how weird it is to be happy after all the bullshit we've been through."

His mind was relaxingly blurry, but that definitely wasn't the best part about the moment; Pepper was holding his hand. She looked stunning in her elegant black dress, and she was alive and she was everything that was Pepper. Wait, that sounded like a pun that went nowhere. Or not. Maybe he'd had a bit too much to drink after all. Did it matter? They had a chauffeur. Nothing could really ruin this moment.

There was a tiny voice in Tony's head that managed to pierce through the drunkenness and remind him that thinking that nothing could ruin the moment would definitely be just asking for something to ruin it. And it had a good point, but Tony refused to listen to it.

They were almost at the car when a whistle startled them a second before Tony felt a spear of intense pain all the way through his shoulder blade to his chest. Something threw him off-balance, and he dimly heard Pepper shout in what was probably panic. Then the street came to meet his face and he had to cough. Something red splattered onto the asphalt. He tried to move his hands and his feet, but his muscles were very quickly losing their strength to the pain. He couldn't breathe properly and he was also evidently losing a lot of blood. Maybe going into shock too. Pepper was talking very determinedly on the phone. Tony couldn't really see her anymore. There was only blackness that blackened even further.

Tony's last thought before losing consciousness was something about the moment being very thoroughly ruined.


The Taskmaster proved to be very elusive for a man who liked to wear a skull mask and a hood, but Fury wasn't too concerned yet. Nothing escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. forever. If they could track down aliens, gods and myths, they could track down an assassin. The case of the stolen weapon designs was the easiest part. Someone had indeed broken into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and copied the designs about two months ago. Well, broken into was a bit misleading. The thief, whoever they were, had used the ID of one of their agents who had been killed in action, and the database had just handed the designs to them without even alerting anyone until they performed a more thorough scan on the system.

That discovery bothered Fury more than anything at the moment. There were admittedly several ways someone could have got their hands on the ID and codes of one of their dead agents, but almost all of those ways were extremely difficult and would require a lot of resources and ingenuity. And to get the system to actually recognise the outdated codes had taken some serious hacking as well. Obviously their system wasn't as foolproof as they had thought. Fury would have to get that fixed too, as soon as possible.

Fury had just finished with a particularly taxing bit of paperwork – certainly the more dull part of any law-enforcement job – when he got a call from Hill.

"What is it?"

"We have a situation," Hill said in a clipped tone, "Stark has been shot with an arrow."


Author's Note: Uhh... I swear this is going somewhere. Eventually. Feedback is very, very welcome, you lovely people!

All info about Mother Nature a.k.a Emily Jane is from the Guardians of Childhood books. I might come back to these chapters and break them off a bit differently, maybe combine chapters or something but that will be after I get this done more. Not much else to say so I won't waste your time further.

See you!