12. Attack

The Baron turned a shiny pistol over and over in his hands. This was it. It was finally finished. And if his plans had gone even slightly as they should have – despite the occasionally baffling mistakes his new associates had made – the worst obstacles in his way would be at least temporarily eliminated. That was all he needed for his chance. For his revenge. And now, with his newest invention in his hands, he would be appropriately unstoppable.

A distortion in space alerted him, and he briefly tightened his grip on the gun's handle. The broad-shouldered form of Thor Odinson materialised in front of him. He almost pulled the trigger before he realised that the Enchantress was standing next to the Asgardian, arms raised.

"Worry not," she said and smiled smugly, "I promised I would take care of him, and I have. He can aid us, and after that, I will make sure he will never bother you again."

The Baron narrowed his eyes. He had done his homework on the Enchantress before and after recruiting her. There wasn't much information to go on, but he had quickly concluded that she was an expert with Asgardian magic, including advanced mind control. The slightly empty and partially amorous look on Thor's face supported his theory that she had used exactly that to get him.

"Really?" he asked, "Are you sure this… magic of yours is sufficient to keep him obedient?"

"Of course," the Enchantress said, "Now, where is Skurge? I need to… speak with him."

"He's not here," said a voice from the shadows, and the Boogeyman walked out of a corner that the Baron could swear had been empty a second ago, "He's still watching the Hulk with that walking reactor. Though it seems that didn't work out so well."

The Baron sighed.

"That doesn't matter. We have most of the Avengers and the Guardians out of the way. And my Disintegrator is finished. We can attack now."

"Oh, that thing," the Boogeyman said in an unimpressed tone, "So… what does it do exactly?"

To answer the question – and because he felt like he had earned his moment of slight flaunting – the Baron aimed the gun at the nearest chair and pulled the trigger. A light flashed, and the chair shattered into atoms. The Enchantress raised a delicate eyebrow.

"It vanished," she said.

"Disintegrated," the Baron corrected, "With this, I can loosen the bonds between the atoms in a target. Nothing can withstand it."

"Nothing, huh?" the Boogeyman asked, "I'll take your word for it. So, you want to take down S.H.I.E.L.D. with that?"

The Baron nodded.

"Yes," he said, "My small army of hired guns are ready, and I am ready, thanks to your aid, especially Fraulein Amora's retrieval of the mineral I used to finish my gun. No one will stand in the way of my revenge. HYDRA will pay for what they did to me, and hiding inside that bunch of protectors isn't going to help them now."

He turned to look at the Enchantress.

"Now, how large a group can you teleport at once?"

The Enchantress smiled poisonously.

"Large enough.

Behind her, Thor Odinson's fingers twitched.


In the midst of confusion it was easy for even a group of soldiers appearing from thin air to go unnoticed for a crucial while. They walked into positions around the bunker they had pinpointed as a place where the top leaders of S.H.I.E.L.D. were in at the moment. The Enchantress appeared with the soldiers and then disappeared, subtly silencing security cameras as they got closer. This bunker was located in a smaller town farther away from the heart of things, near a small secretly S.H.I.E.L.D.-operated airport so that the occasional air traffic to and from the bunker would go unnoticed. Some civilian casualties would be inevitable. That was of no concern, though. The Enchantress glanced at Thor, who marched next to her with glassy eyes. Amora smiled. If she could make Thor fight for her, she could make him love her too. His true desires were still hidden beneath the veil Amora had created, but she would shape them to what they were supposed to be soon enough.

And before that, she could show these pathetic Earthlings what true power was like.

The people in the bunker wouldn't even know what hit them.

That was what Amora thought, anyway, but about fifteen minutes ahead of her, another very persistent woman had reached the bunker.


Fury looked critically at the tall woman in front of him. And he sensed that so did Stark and the remaining Guardians. The dark-haired woman looked like a mix between an old-fashioned queen and a New Age -hippie, and there was almost literally a storm in her eyes. Not the most unusual appearance for a Guardian-like being, really. In fact, she was quite in keeping with the image media had liked to paint about her.

"Okay, Mother Nature," Fury said and sighed, "So an attack is coming. How can you be so sure it's going to hit now?"

Mother Nature crossed her arms.

"I have been watching these people. And I know you have been too. You have been watching me as well. Fear not, I don't take part in the squabbles of mortals… not usually anyway."

She tilted her head towards the open computer screens in the room.

"These won't show them until it is too late. They will appear with Asgardian magic, and they have clearly already drawn many of your best people out of here."

"We can get our people back soon enough," said North, "Bunny was with Miss Romanoff and Mr. Barton, yes? He can bring them back too."

"So you believe what she's saying is accurate?" Fury asked.

Mother Nature frowned.

"I would not be here for nothing, Mr. Fury."

"Is true. Emily Jane takes things like this seriously," said North with an amiable smile.

"Don't get too friendly with me, Nicholas," said Mother Nature, "I just want the Asgardians out before they turn this into a warzone again. And I want all the people intent on turning this into an even more of a warzone also detained."

"Will you help us, then?" asked the Tooth Fairy, "To fight?"

Mother Nature sighed.

"If I must," she said.

"Even if Pitch shows up?"

Something akin to rage flashed in Mother Nature's eyes. A computer short-circuited near her. Stark cursed.

"This is why elementals are so damn annoying," he muttered.

"You should know where I stand in this war of yours, Toothiana," Mother Nature snapped at the Tooth Fairy. Then her rigid posture slumped just a bit, "I told you I would help you. So I will.

The Guardians nodded approvingly. Fury knew he was missing some pieces of information, but that couldn't be helped right now. The Guardians clearly weren't going to share them, and they had bigger problems to worry about.

"Stark!" he said, "Suit up! You're going to the field."

"But I…" Stark sighed theatrically, "Oh no, I guess I have to break my promise, then. But just because we're understaffed right now, you got that?"

Behind them, one of the small fairies zipped in and started giving some kind of a report in what sounded like a mix of chirping and Morse code. The Tooth Fairy's face fell.

"What is it?" asked North.

"The girls can't find Sandy anymore," she said, "He was fighting some kind of… radioactive man. And Mr. Rogers and Mr. Banner are stuck in a helicopter. Jack's with them."

Fury basically stabbed his communicator to life with his index finger.

"I'll call my people and get them here. And you!" he looked pointedly at the Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus, "Find your people!"

The Tooth Fairy was gone in a flash of a snowglobe portal and left a few feathers behind. Mother Nature looked at the organised chaos brewing around her with a hard look on her face.

"They will be here soon," she said and sounded about as ominous as a thundercloud, "Get ready."

Fury made a mental note to tell Stark to keep an eye on the mysterious woman during the upcoming fight. There was something very off about her.


The Taskmaster had made his way methodically through the back of the helicopter, incapacitating personnel that got into his way with brief and efficient strangleholds that would keep them unconscious for a while. He had thought of just jumping down at the Baron's secret extra HQ, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. -agents had swarmed the place after getting their rescue mission done with. The copter hadn't even touched down. Still, the Taskmaster wasn't worried. He still had plenty of time to work out his escape. He had a parachute and he could jump down anywhere appropriately inconspicuous. And the copter was deliberately staying clear of the more inhabited areas, so there was no problem with the inconspicuous part. It was time to get out now, when everyone else was distracted or unconscious.

There were no problems so far, and of course he had to think that just as he came face to face with a blond super soldier. The Taskmaster forced himself to remain calm. He had stayed back during the rescue because Captain America had seen him at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base and could potentially I.D. him. He inched his way towards his goal: an emergency exit that would get him out of here. He steeled himself and got ready to look as normal as possible in his stolen uniform. The Taskmaster greeted Captain America with a nod and then proceeded to walk past him, hoping the Captain wouldn't pay him more attention.

Captain America's eyes sparked with recognition. Shit.

"Wait," he said, stepping forth with slight difficulty – something the Taskmaster filed as a possible advantage for him if the situation got out of hand, "I know you. You're the guy that shot Stark."

The Taskmaster heard a sharp gasp from the side, and glanced there. He hoped with all his might that the man who could turn into the Hulk wasn't there with the Captain. He wasn't, thankfully enough. Instead there stood a teenager. He was a peculiar one, the Taskmaster noted. The kid's hair was white and his clothes were coated with a layer of frost. A curved staff was in the boy's grip, and there was just something in general off about him. The Taskmaster put two and two together quickly in his head. The kid was probably one of the Guardians. The Asgardian woman had talked about some kind of ice spirit who took the form of a child, hadn't she? He hoped his memory served him correctly. And it most likely did. Tactical information was one of the priorities he had trained himself to keep in his head even when things like his original home address eluded him. The Taskmaster immediately let his gaze wander around the room as if he hadn't seen the kid at all. These Guardians seemed to rely on their selective invisibility. The kid probably expected him not to know he was there.

"I don't know what ya're talking about," the Taskmaster said, turning to Captain America again. As he talked, he positioned himself as close to his best escape route as he dared without rousing suspicion. He also went through what he knew about the people in the room. The Hulk should not be alerted, for sure. So far the man seemed to stay in the med bay and was most likely asleep. Captain America he had watched on old and new videos, and he could presumably predict everything the man could throw at him. The man's famous vibranium shield was there in his hand. That had to be watched out for. The ice kid… Jack Frost? Yes, that was his name; that made sense. The kid he hadn't heard much about, but the Asgardian woman had listed some of his powers. Namely the control over ice and snow – of course – and flight. The Taskmaster took note of the hallway's layout again just in case.

"I know it's you," Captain America insisted, "How did you get here?"

The Taskmaster decided to stop the pretence. Captain America wasn't stupid and wouldn't fall for the innocent act.

"I escaped, of course," he said, "And now, I'm escaping this helicopter."

Captain America was charging in a millisecond, but the Taskmaster was ready for him. The Captain feinted to the left and then struck, closing in for a good grapple. Easy enough to avoid. The Taskmaster danced to the side, threw a punch that was easily dodged and then followed with a kick the Captain didn't quite see coming in time. It hit the man in the shin, but it wasn't enough to bring down a super soldier. It did slow the already worn out man down enough, and the Taskmaster used that opportunity to step back near the ice kid, who had prepared his wooden stick for an attack. He ducked under the kid's projectile, which looked like a frozen snowball, trying to make the dodge look like an accident, and he moved forward without missing a beat, aiming a punch at Captain America's throat. The man blocked it, ready to grab the attacking hand, but the Taskmaster was moving again, drawing a hidden knife that was apparently mandatory in any S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. The Captain ducked to avoid the knife, and that gave the Taskmaster time to dodge another shard of ice and snow, and backpedal until he was right next to the Frost kid.

"C'mon, stay still," the kid said quietly, not expecting to be heard.

It was almost a shame to shatter the illusion of not knowing. The Taskmaster turned in the blink of an eye and grabbed the kid's right hand, which was closed around the staff. Jack Frost gasped again, and the Taskmaster used the momentary surprise to spin the staff around and behind the boy's back, kicking him away before the freezing skin of the boy could cause permanent damage to his tissues.

Frost collided with the Captain, but spun around without really losing his balance. But the Taskmaster was already moving. He raised his gun, fired once at Frost, and twice at the Captain, and then darted to the emergency exit. He twisted the door open with a couple of tricks he'd memorised some time ago, glanced down, saw that they were above a forest, and jumped.


The Baron's men made their way through the shadows of the buildings around them. They kept appearing and appearing as the woman in green dropped them off. The shadows seemed especially thick wherever the men needed them. They didn't know why that was the case, but they were glad for the advantage. Their goal was simple: get into the bunker, cover for the Baron while he demonstrated his power and got his revenge. And be cannon fodder, though that task wasn't listed in the official contract. A lot of the soldiers were starting to get a sinking feeling that that was the case, though. They were getting nervous. At least the shadows were there, comforting and protecting them.

Or at least until a light cut through them and stunned three soldiers at once.

"Man, it feels way too good to be back," said the Iron Man.

The soldiers were trained enough to immediately open fire on the hovering danger.

Inside his suit, Tony Stark grinned.

"Aaand here come the welcoming fireworks."

Tony spun in the air and fired a few more repulsor rays from his palms. The soldiers went down easily enough.

"Huh, you guys do have some real challenge with you, right?"

There were some things that Tony should have already learned about life. Or at least about his life. And one of them was that tempting fate was not the best idea to do in a battle. Because as soon as Tony had got the words out of his mouth, a bolt of lightning struck him and surged through his suit, powering it up but also sending him backwards with its force.

"What the-"

He looked to the side just in time to see Thor coming at him, his hammer raised.

"Oh, shit."


Jack Frost had always loved falling. He loved the freedom of it. He loved the sensation of his stomach not quite keeping up and the wind on his face that assured him that he would be fine. He loved waiting until he was too close to the ground before letting the wind right his course and take him back to the skies. It was wonderful. In the right circumstances, of course.

Falling with an escaped assassin clinging to him was in the "not fun" -category. But Jack had got himself into it all by jumping after the escaping man before anyone could protest. He had sped up with the wind, catching the falling man and ending up in a scuffle in the sky, with clouds tearing to pieces around them as they fell in a tangle of punches, kicks and wrestling manoeuvres. In the end the Taskmaster pushed him off, but Jack grabbed the man's wrist and ended up being pulled down with the man's weight. He felt Baby Tooth curling up in the pocket of his hoodie, hanging on for dear life. The man had eased himself into some kind of proper freefall position, but Jack was tumbling in the air like a stray leaf, not that it was a problem. A fall like this wouldn't kill Jack, but it did make him angry. The whole situation made him angry, actually. Jack hoped that Steve would be alright. He had seen at least one of the bullets hit him, and the man was still weakened from the radiation. The super soldier serum would help him through it, right? Jack had to believe in that, because right now there wasn't much he could do until he could get the Taskmaster to land and catch the man before he slipped off their radar.

Not that it should be much of a problem now. Jack felt a mischievous grin on his face. Air was his element. The Taskmaster stood no chance.

He called for the wind, and it took him along immediately. The Taskmaster tensed when they were both suddenly tugged off course and flew uncontrollably downwards towards the forest below them. Jack smirked at the Taskmaster's barely masked surprise.

"So…" he said loudly over the roaring wind, "This was your plan? Jumping from a plane? I mean, how were you planning on getting down without any of the heroes up there messing up your fancy parachute landing?"

The Taskmaster glanced up at him, still properly focused on falling with style even though said style had been thoroughly cramped.

"What are you gonna do, kid?" he said in a mocking tone, "Drop me? Cut up my parachute? Turn me into a human popsicle?"

"Don't tempt me. I could do all those things, and more."

"But ya're not gonna. 'Cause ya're a nice kid, deep down."

Jack let go of the man's wrist suddenly, giving the man's arm a hard tug as he did. The wind dropped the man, and it took the assassin several hundred meters to right himself somewhat again. Jack kept up with the falling man, his staff held lazily across his shoulders.

"Actually, I'm kind of not."

There was a brief flash of worry on the Taskmaster's face, but then it was gone again. He was back in control, or at least he thought he was. He still had plenty of time to open his parachute and land safely, and then…

"Even if you did get down, then what?" Jack asked, "Now you've got me to deal with! And believe me, I can be very persistent."

The Taskmaster didn't answer, and Jack knew it was because the man was still pretty sure that Jack wouldn't be mean enough to actually seriously hurt him. And he was… kind of right. They were falling from a lethal height, and if anything went wrong, Jack would end up with a Taskmaster pancake on his conscience.

Jack glanced down. The forest was closer now, and soon the Taskmaster had to open his parachute in order to land safely. That was how it worked, right? Jack had never tried it, seeing how he could get the same experience and more with just being himself.

The Taskmaster did pull some string and suddenly Jack was pushed backwards with a mass of expanding cloth. He lost control for a few seconds, almost falling without grace, and…

Falling. Falling. Falling.

Alone. Cold. Too cold. Where am I? Where is he? I have to… havetohelphavetohelptohelphim…

The ice is closing. I need to be fast.

He let out a tiny shout of surprise when the memory flashed past him. He still didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing, but he did know that the memory had a really bad timing. Right now he needed to focus on a parachute that had opened up like a flower and was now floating towards the treetops, getting caught in the branches… coming to a stop above a lake…

"Wow," Jack said out loud, "Dude, I bet that was not a part of your stylish escape plan."

The man dangled dozens of feet above ground, tangled in the upper branches of an ancient pine tree. Jack landed on a branch next to the man, grinning from ear to ear out of what he had to admit was partly pure schadenfreude. But just a bit. He was – despite his boasting – too nice for that for the most part. The Taskmaster gave him a cold look and then, without saying a word in response, cut the parachute free with his knife. He grabbed a branch below him. Jack raised a brow.

"Hey, man, that branch is not as strong as it-"

The branch cracked. The Taskmaster fell, and caught more branches on his way.

"-looks. Okay, I guess that's one way of getting down safely."

The Taskmaster's fall was a long one, and the pine tree was bare from halfway down, just like pine trees usually are. Jack didn't know if the Taskmaster had expected the fall to end into the water, but Jack was totally fine with the way it went down. At least the water cushioned the assassin's fall enough for him to avoid injury. And once he'd get up, well, Jack would be ready for him.

Jack landed down on the surface of the lake, an ice raft immediately forming under his feet. The Taskmaster had disappeared with a splash and was now a dark spot in the midst of ripples. Jack crossed his arms and waited. And waited. And waited. And…

"Oh, come on!" he shouted, "Stop bluffing! I can still see you! And I'm positive you can swim!"

He didn't get up. By Jack's estimation, it was already taking too long to be healthy.

"Hey! Get up! Don't think you can fool me with the drowning act!"

The surface broke, and the Taskmaster splashed frantically and with none of the grace he had shown in everything he did so far. Even when the parachute had got caught the man had clearly expected it and worked with it fine. But now there was real panic on the man's face. And once he had managed a frantic gulp of air he went back down. It was either a very convincing act, or it was actually real.

He wouldn't drown himself just to get someone off his tail, right? He was too smart for that. Jack looked at the dark spot in the water. It was slowly getting smaller, and flailing all the way.

"Oh, darn it…" he whispered, "This really isn't my day."

He ran on the water, ice under his feet, until he got to the spot right above the Taskmaster. He nudged Baby Tooth until she flew out of his pocket. She chirped nervously, but Jack cupped his hands around her to comfort them both.

"Stay here," he said, "I'll be back in a second."

Then he let her go, took a deep breath, let it out to calm himself down, and then took another.

Then he dove.


Nicholas Fury stood in the main corridor of the bunker, emergency broadcasts ringing in his ears and his good eye trained on the main doors. This was it. One of their bunkers had been compromised. That wasn't so bad, really; they had many more of them. But the town around them… that was their responsibility, especially now that a group of super-beings was hell-bent on destroying it in their wake.

Why did they always have to destroy things anyway? It was obvious they were mostly targeting S.H.I.E.L.D. Why drag the civilians into this?

These were questions that Fury had already learned to cynically answer with "Just because", or something like that and then move on to actually stopping the bastards. But they couldn't help surfacing again every once in a while.

"Get ready, everyone," he said, "Stark and the others will take care of the city. We'll keep the order here as well as we can."

The people behind him didn't really need the instructions, but it was something to confirm that they were indeed at their places.

The main doors disappeared. They weren't blown in with fireworks like Fury had perhaps expected, but with a quieter, much more unnerving display of force. Anyone could rig something to explode. To make something just vanish was considerably more difficult. The metallic covers they had arranged into the corridors felt very inadequate at the moment.

Behind the door stood a man in a purple hood. A man that Fury quickly connected to a face – or what was probably a face under the ski mask -look – in his files.

"Oh, hell," he said.

Either Baron Heinrich Zemo had a copycat, or this was him. A man who had been presumed dead since around World War Two.

Fury didn't have much time to think about this more, because he opened fire at the man as soon as he was proven to be the intruder. The bullets were stopped by a force field that seemed to come from the hands of a woman in green who stood behind the purple-hooded man. The Baron lifted his own gun and fired, and the nearest cover disintegrated into the air. The nearest unfortunate agent followed. Not even blood was left in the attack's wake.

Fury fired his gun a couple of more times, and then put his hand on his communicator.

"Everyone, retreat and regroup. Now!"

He didn't turn his back until they were all around the corner. Then they had no choice but to run. The walls around them started to crumble.


Water.

Everywhere.

Cold.

Dark.

A bad place to die.

He didn't deserve this.

I have to help.

My oath needs to be fulfilled.

Even if I die too.

He isn't breathing.

I have to help him now!

Jack's eyes snapped open, and he fought to keep oxygen in his lungs despite the painful flip his memories forced his mind to do. What was going on?

He could see the Taskmaster sinking heavily towards the bottom. It was dark. And maybe it was cold too. Jack didn't want to think about it too much. He concentrated on keeping the water around him unfrozen, and kicked himself into a less than graceful dive towards the dark, flailing shape. At least the man was still conscious. Jack reached out with his hand and grabbed the Taskmaster's arm…

…and was immediately pulled downwards.

He couldn't help it; panic started to push its way into his mind. He almost took a breath, but at the last second managed not to. He knew it wouldn't kill him, but it would probably make him completely lose it. The Taskmaster wrapped his arm around his neck, and Jack didn't know if the man was trying to kill him or just panicking too. He struggled, and felt the water starting to cling to his skin in jagged clumps of ice. They had to get out before he froze them both into the lake.

He forced his own coldness under their feet, forming a pillar of ice that grew towards the surface much faster than nature should have allowed. But Jack was in too much hurry to care. His lungs burned, and the Taskmaster's grip on him was loosening – both not good signs as far as their survival or sanity were concerned.

The surface broke, and the air stung Jack's face like a dozen needles. He gasped, and as soon as the Taskmaster let go of him, he slumped onto the comforting, solid ice pillar and just focused on breathing. Baby Tooth landed on his shoulder, and Jack managed a weak smile.

"Told you… I'm okay."

Mostly, anyway.

The Taskmaster coughed desperately until Jack was sure the man would hack up his lungs and then finally settled to lie limply on the ice. Jack couldn't blame him. He couldn't summon up the strength to get up either. He clutched his staff to his chest like a lifeline and tried to keep his wits about enough to convince himself that it was over and that they were in his element now. The Taskmaster moved his head, the look on his face almost vulnerable.

"Why did ya..." The Taskmaster rasped, "Why did ya help me? Ya damn near panicked in there."

Jack tried to snort, but there was still a little bit of water left up his nose, and that came out instead.

"Why wouldn't I?" he said weakly, "Besides, you panicked way more than I did."

The Taskmaster chuckled darkly.

"What makes an immortal kid terrified of water?"

Jack shrugged, slowly getting back up into a crouch.

"What makes a badass assassin terrified of it?"

"Fair enough."

"Jack! Baby Tooth!"

Jack looked up when he heard a familiar voice calling for him. Toothiana looked like she had flown for a long time, probably so fast she had reached supersonic speeds, and her feathers were ruffled. Despite all that she was one of the most welcome sights Jack could have imagined at the moment. She flew to the ice pillar and dragged Jack to his feet. Her hands were almost uncomfortably warm, but they grounded Jack and he was more than grateful of that.

"Tooth?" Jack said, "What are you doing here?"

Tooth looked almost livid now that she was up close. Jack noted that she had her swords strapped to her waist.

"That S.H.I.E.L.D. bunker is under attack!" Tooth said, "And the town it's in too! I was trying to find Sandy, but I couldn't… and then you were gone from the helicopter you were supposed to be in, and…"

"Tooth, breathe!"

"Oh, sorry!" Tooth gripped Jack's hands tighter, "I just… we have to go and help them! I'm so worried about them… and I was worried about you! At the helicopter they said you were shot and everything, and then…"

She stopped to breathe this time. Her eyes were still too wide, though.

"Sorry I made you worried," Jack said, trying to sound like his usual carefree self, "I'm okay."

"You'd better be!" Tooth snapped and then glanced at the Taskmaster, "And... you caught the assassin? Well, that's good news at least!"

The Taskmaster rose slowly, not getting far because his combat boot-covered feet were encased in ice – just because Jack had been near panic didn't mean he could get sloppy. The man looked at Tooth oddly, like she was the one who had just dragged him out of the water.

"Tooth Fairy?" he said, "It's you again."

Tooth nodded slowly.

"Hello, Mr. Taskmaster."

The Taskmaster looked down into the water, suppressing a shudder and barely keeping up his façade.

"I've been thinking…" he said slowly.

"What is it?" Tooth said, and Jack had a feeling she knew what the Taskmaster was about to say.

"If I helped ya with this fight… would ya help me remember?"

A gentle smile spread on Tooth's face.

"Of course."


Author's Note: I'm sorry! I've had an insanely long break from this! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! To be fair, I have had so much schoolwork and other work-related things that I've bordered on burnout occasionally, but even when I haven't been buried under work I've been distracted by other writing projects. I was even occasionally tempted to do Camp NaNoWriMo this month, but then decided not to be too crazy because our schoolwork isn't really even close to being done yet.

But yeah, anyway, I'm not abandoning this story. It has only about three or four chapters left anyway, and I do want to get it finished. I'm pretty sure I'll get more time and motivation to do this later this spring after our clutter of exams is done and I have more brainpower free from school-related things.

But yeah, the final battle is starting. I'm feeling like I'm not good at writing this but I'm still pushing on. I don't know… this story has so many moving parts that it's insane. The writing-part doesn't even take that long but just all the planning and getting these people to their places and dividing their time in the limelight… that's the part that takes a lot of work. I don't envy writers who're in charge of massive crossovers at all right now! But I do have a lot of respect for those who can pull them off well.

About the chapter… uhh… well, the Baron's on the field, and he has his disintegrator gun, which really is his weapon in the comics. And the Taskmaster really had a possibly traumatic near-drowning experience in his backstory. And I can finally shift the focus from the helicopter gang to the bunker gang again! Though now they are at least all trying to be in the same place. Not sure it that's going to make things easier or more difficult.

As always, feedback is very appreciated! And thank you all who have stuck with me… if there's still someone out there after this long a wait.

REVIEW RESPONSE TIME:

Crossover Junkie: Yeah, Pitch's backstory is awesome and I still think that a lot of the biggest problems I had with the film would have been fixed if they had included that backstory in the film too. I also really like Toothiana's super tragic past. And I happen to also like to see characters I like getting beat up occasionally.

Mala: Yeah, these people need a break, buuut they're not getting it yet. Mwahahahahaaa! The reason Katherine and Ombric (and Nightlight, though he does have a slightly bigger role) don't get that much attention in this is because despite all the references to the books I make in this, this is based on the film universe, where there was no mention of them. In my fanfic universe they're either dead or disappeared in some fight long ago. They are remembered, though, and I was almost tempted to make North mention them to Tony when they talked about Guardians dying, but then decided that Tony and North aren't good enough friends so that North would be comfortable with talking about lost comrades with him.