The stitch in his side was starting to burn, but Happy Hogun pushed just a little bit more. He hadn't been jogging in...how long? Surely it hadn't been that long...just a little more...
Breakthrough. The endorphins kicked in and he surged forward, up and over the hillock, and down the path to Montauk Beach. He jogged in the sand for a bit, following the waterline on his right, until his calves started to complain.
He slowed to a walk then, and fished a water bottle out of his belt. The lighthouse ahead of him flashed in the early morning darkness, and somewhere out in the harbor a freighter's horn answered. The water was quiet, lap lap lap a meter or so away, and the ocean stank of salt and dead fish. Later on, the beach would be crowded with tourists, children, and sun-worshippers, but right now even the gulls were silent. He liked it that way.
Happy stopped and stretched, pulling at abused muscles, and found a not-too-wet rock to sit on. The sun would be up soon. When was the last time he had taken the time to see it? He didn't know. He couldn't remember the last sunset on the West Coast, either. Pity.
It was nice: gold and silver filtered through blue-gray clouds into a deep blue sky, the waning moon surrendering to the onslaught of glorious light. Happy nodded his appreciation, and considered briefly touring the lighthouse and accompanying museum. He had never been in either.
He heard the jets touch down before Tony spoke, but Happy didn't move from his rock. He was comfortable.
"Nice show," Tony said, sitting down on the rock-slab nearest him. "You come here often?"
"Nah. Ain't been here in about 10 years." He sucked on his water bottle again, then fished a smaller bottle out of his belt. "Aspirin. You look like hell. Up half the night drinking again? You're gonna kill your liver, you know."
Tony accepted the bottle thankfully. "Just the first third. Pepper had JARVIS cut me off, and then Agent woke me up trying to get through to Reindeer Games."
"And you can't sleep when your conscience bothers you."
"And I can't sleep when my conscience bothers me." Tony looked out across the water. "Have I always been this much of an ass?"
"Yup."
"But you've always stuck by me."
"Yup."
"Why?"
Happy shrugged without looking away from the sea. "It's not in me to quit, is all. Pepper's like that too. So was that little gal of yours, before you canned her ass." He paused a moment. "That wasn't fair, Tony," he said reproachfully.
Tony blinked. "Wow, Happy, don't beat around the bush or anything..."
"I'm off the clock today, Tony. I have stuff to do. Tip-toeing around your feelings ain't on my list," Happy said bluntly.
Tony Stark blinked again. Happy wasn't being harsh, but he just wasn't used to this kind of...of...frankness? Was that the word?
"Happy, is there anything we need to discuss? Anything you want to get off your chest?"
"Like a burning desire to sweep Pepper off her feet, make an honest woman out of her, and set her up with a house in the 'burbs raisin' the next generation of Hoguns?"
"Yes, like tha...wait...what?" Tony goggled at Happy, mouth open. "You and Pepper...what?"
Happy's face relaxed, and he snorted out a laugh. He shook his head and slapped a sweaty thigh. "Relax, Tony, I'm yankin' yer chain, is all. She's a great dame, you know. You could do a lot worse."
"I know; I already have."
They sat in silence for a few minutes then, just watching the sea as the sun inched up. Tony shifted uncomfortably, more from the awkwardness of the moment than from his seat.
"Happy, are you..."
"Yeah, Tony, I'm scared."
Tony nodded. "Me, too." Whew, that had been hard to admit. "You don't have to do this, you know."
Happy nodded stiffly. "Yeah, I really do." He looked over at Tony Stark-his boss, his friend, for how many years? "But thanks for saying it."
Tony clapped him on the shoulder. "If you need anything..."
"What time does the party start?"
"Six-ish tomorrow. Want anything in particular?"
"Good craft beer, plenty of '80's music, and lots of snacks."
"Done."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Onboard the Lemurian Star...
"What about the nurse across the hall from you? She seems nice," Tasha pressed.
"Secure the engine room, then find me a date," Cap snapped.
"I'm multi-tasking!"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The Triskelion Medical Ward...
Mrs. Libbitz put a withered hand to her stomach and stifled a belch. Breakfast had been so good...Not as good as at home, of course, but it was nice to have someone else foot the bill. She hobbled her way to the nurse's station with a simpering smile. The charge nurse, a stern-but-kind Jewish-looking woman with a nametag that read Havilah, met her at the desk.
"Good morning, Mrs. Libbitz! How was breakfast?"
"Just fine, dearie. Is there any news about my neighbor?"
"Mrs. Wright hasn't come back from breakfast yet. Would you like me to have her knock when she comes up?"
"Oh, I don't mean Alice. I mean Miss Sauer. She lives across the hall from me at home, you see."
"Ah, hmmmm." Nurse Havilah frowned at her computer screen. "The name doesn't sound familiar...Oh, she isn't even on this wing, that's why..."
"Oh, she isn't on any of these wings, dearie."
"No?"
Mrs. Libbitz shook her head, gray curls bouncing. "She was taken to a different hospital by a friend of that nice man, Mr. Nicholas."
The nurse's eyebrows went up a fraction. "Do you mean Director Fury?"
The old woman nodded. "The same." She cocked her head at the younger woman. "Is something wrong, dearie? Mr. Nicholas didn't come down with that sinful pest now, did he? Oh, dear..."
The nurse chuckled. "No, Mrs. Libbitz. I've just never heard anybody call Director Fury a 'nice young man'."
The old woman patted the nurse's strong hands. "Dearie, when you get to be my age, most of the folks around you are 'nice young this or that'. Is he alright, then?"
The nurse smiled patiently. "I'm not free to divulge the condition of any of our patients, Mrs. Libbitz. HIPPA rules, you know. Now, can I get you anything? Is your arthritis bothering you? We have access to the latest protocols, you know, if you want to try a different painkiller," she nodded sagely.
"Oh, that won't be necessary. My rheumatism doesn't bother me that much, anyway. Can I get you to help me with the phone in my room, though? I want to call my son."
"I can't leave my station right now, but I'll send an aide down as soon as one is free."
"Thank you, dearie."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
The Greenhouse...
Ward groaned as he stretched. He felt terrible, as if he had a hangover, but he knew he hadn't been drinking. Not yet, anyway. Later, definitely. For now, he had an accident to arrange...
Simmons was already munching on a bagel when Ward reached the cafeteria. She flipped through a pile of papers on the table in front of her, and didn't seem to notice him come in. Her hair, he noticed, was not pulled back in its customary pony tail, and her jewelry was missing.
He scowled at her inattention, and made a point to bang his tray on the table. Jemma started in a satisfactory way; he had nagged her previously about her tunnel vision, as had May. Busted, he smiled grimly.
"Oh! Ward!" she mushed through her bagel. "I didn't hear you come in..."
"Obviously," he replied dryly.
She peered at him, concerned. "You look unwell...how do you feel?"
"Coffee," he grunted. "Coffee must be done, and then we make words."
"Of course, of course," she waved at him, watching wide-eyed as he downed a mug in three gulps. "Let me get a refill for that..."
Simmons scampered away, and returned with the steaming pot. She handed him two white pills as well.
"Aspirin," she explained. "You look like you have a hangover."
"I feel like it," he confessed. "How do you feel?"
She shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. Physically I feel fine, but I keep catching myself undressing..."
Ward snorted, dribbling his coffee down his chin and shirt. He grabbed the paper towels faster than she could to mop it up.
"You've been what?" was all he could muster. (There was still hot coffee in his nose.)
She grimaced. "It is an apparent side-effect of the mind touch experiment. The aliens have no concept of clothing or individual nudity or shame, and I have to keep reminding myself that this culture does." She ran an exasperated hand over her head, and frowned. "Drat, my bloody hair is down again. That's the third time this morning." She pulled a hair tie out of her pocked, and pulled it back again. "Have you had any other symptoms, besides your hangover? Your experience was different was mine, of course...I should run CT scans on all of us, I suppose..."
"All of us?" Grant bit a waffle in half.
Simmons nodded. "You and Fitz, Skye and myself, and Miss Sauer, of course, if I can get her away from Prince Loki," she added as an afterthought. She leaned forward conspiratorially. "He actually ordered me out of the medical ward last night. Can you believe that?"
"Yes," Ward said stiffly. He narrowed his eyes at the nubile medic. "You're taking your hair down again, Simmons: stop it. Or else I'll call Tripp in to watch the show."
Simmons blushed and pulled her hair back again. "Tripp? What? You mean he...really?"
"Yes," he answered coolly. "Have you focused on medicine so much that you forgot basic biology?" He gave her a knowing look.
She scowled back at him and leaned forward. "One word of this in public, Mr. Security, and I'll have you on a slab for a 24 hour enema," she hissed.
He raised his hands in surrender. "Scout's honor: I won't tell. So, how is Fitz doing?"
"He's still asleep."
"Skye?"
"On her computer, of course. I think the chocolate muffins are helping her. She cried for a long time, you know."
That stopped him. "No, I didn't. The last thing I remember is Tripp leaving my room...I must have passed out after that. I think I slept wrong; my neck is killing me." He rubbed it absentmindedly, and his fingers found a lump just below his neck. "Odd..."
"What?"
"I must have landed on something sharp. Either that or I'm getting an abcess. There's a lump back here..."
"Let me see." Simmons ordered crisply, wiping her mouth as she rose. She moved in behind Ward, who (nervously) allowed the young medic to pull his shirt aside.
Simmons' eyes widened as she considered the red lump. "Erm, Ward..."
"Yeah?"
"What's the last thing you remember?"
"Hmmm. Tripp left my room...I came out...Garrett wanted to talk to me about something...I felt really tired, but I managed to hold it off...aliens in the house, you know? After that..."
"You were shot with an ICIR."
"What?"
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Deep Space, over the remains of Planet X
The command room had been scoured clean by countless Chitauri slaves, and Thanos hovered in his chair, enjoying the scenario of the still-rupturing planet.
Ahh...She would be pleased: his mistress, Death. Of that he was certain. One day, she who received all of his sacrifices and libations would receive him, too. On that day, the universe would be empty, quiet would reign, and not so much as an insect would trill in challenge to his lady, the one who received them all. It would be just the two of them...
For now, he had business to tend...
"Gamorra."
"Sister still serves Ronan the Accuser, Father, even as you commanded," Nebula answered. "If she fails to please you, I will of course take her place."
"Of course," he purred. "You are always with me, Nebula. Perhaps I think too soon of your sister, in her absence. Your power grows apace; soon shall I send you back into the harvest fields."
"You know best, Father," Nebula bowed her bald head, touching her brow and her chest with her flesh-hand. "Soon enough will our family be united: you with Mother and us with you twain."
"I have need of my sons," Thanos rumbled. "Fetch them hither."
"Which ones, Father?"
"My strongest: Dortlyk, M'mrofg, and Gr'kmu. Have them prepare themselves, and bring them to me."
Nebula bowed respectfully. "At once, Father."
"Nebula."
"Yes, Father?"
"Fetch that quartet of Deviant shapeshifters for today's feast."
She bowed again. "As you command, Father. Shall I fetch Thane, as well?"
Thanos frowned. "No, he is too young for this business. When you have brought me your brothers and their meal, you will retire with Thane, and work on his lessons. He needs your expertise, I think."
Disappointment was plain in Nebula's face, but she bowed anyway. "Yes, Father."
Soon the table was set: four simple platters and large blades about the edges, and four creatures of varying appearance and size milled about in the middle, weeping. A simple chalice sat at Thanos' place. None else was on the table.
Dortlyk came in first, bowing his blue head in reverence. He had arrayed himself in the battle armor of his people, the Kree. He looked at the quartet with some amusement as they tried to appear comely.
Gr'kmu followed soon after, scowling at Dortlyk. A Skrull, he held his foster-brother in contempt. (Thanos had broken up numerous brawls between the boys, but both were excellent commanders.) Gr'kmu sniffed at the mewling shape-shifters in the middle of the table. They would find no pity with him.
M'mrofg came in last, sizzling the doorkeepers as he passed by and leaving char marks on the floor. The shape-shifters began to wail as they recognized the near-grown warrior of Muspelheim. He was not known to kill swiftly.
M'mrofg took his place. "Behold, father," he hissed. "My brothers at the board, and the meat, and your place as well, but still there is an empty chair. Should not our sister dine with us this night?"
"Or shall the babe finally taste man-food?" Gr'kmu suggested.
"Mayhaps father has a guest," Dortlyk suggested. He had always had the cooler head of the three.
"Dortlyk speaks truth," Thanos intoned. "Tonight, my sons, we welcome a guest: my sponsor and patron from the Dark Realm."
"The Shade?" M'mrofg hissed. "He boasts over much, and has not enough flame to e'en keep warm in this realm."
Gr'kmu sneered at his flaming foster-brother. "Perhaps it will want your company, M'mrofg. You know its tastes."
"Boys," Thanos rumbled, "thou art here on business. Dine now! Open the door for our guest with some blood, will you? Have I not set the table? Are they not delectable?"
Desperately, the shape-shifters huddled together, crouching. One suddenly sprouted fangs and claws; another produced spikes. One screeched like a bird and lashed out with tentacles, grasping Dortlyk about the neck and snapping with a sharp beak. The last formed scales of ice that coiled around her sisters, even as she spit ice-water at M'mrofg.
"Ha! A lively meal!" Gr'kmu shouted in triumph.
The walls rang with the screams of the dying, longest in front of M'mrofg, who preferred his meat well-done as well as alive. Thanos smiled in appreciation. Had he not selected these three, and trained them besides? He filled his chalice with blood once, twice, three times, and drained it, before roaring;
"ENOUGH! JOIN US, DARK LORD! THE TABLE IS SET!"
*I come, O Thanos,* came the answer. *Abide.*
Stars overhead winked out as a cloud oozed out of someplace between. They flickered back into view as the shape coalesced into a tall humanoid, lit from within by a dull-red flame. The chamber temperature dropped as well, and M'mrofg flared up in defiance of the cold.
*Aaahhh, and a warm welcome, besides. Thanos, old friend, you surprise me. I had not expected such a gathering.*
"Naught but the best for you: Elder of Darkness. Thou art pleased, then, with my offering?"
*Aye, I am.* The Shade swirled about the goo left in the center of the table seeming to grow thicker as it did so. *Have they names?*
"The Kree is Dortlyk. M'mrofg, as you can see, is a Jotun of Musphelheim, and Gr'kmu..."
*Ah, yes, a Skrull. A perfect selection! Together they shall wage war and bring blight, always unified, but never reconciled! Your poetry reminds me of my cousin, Wormwood...*
"Does it always ramble on so, father?" M'mrofg hissed. "Does it never get to the point? I see neither might nor sorcery. How can such a weak, cold cloud sponsor us, and be our patron?"
"I ne'er said the Shade was your sponsor, youngling. I said he was mine." Thanos corrected.
"Ignore the simple candle-bearer, O Shade. We delight in your council. Speak, that your warriors may hear!" Dortlyk shouted confidently. "Show us how to crush the weak, and make the strong bow down!"
"Rump kisser!" Gr'kmu shouted. "Be silent yourself!"
"The warrior stands, while the Skrull worm writhes for the correct shape!" Dortlyk snapped back. "Hold your simpering tongue, O basest of Chitauri!"
"Sons!" Thanos roared, but the Shade grew darker in form, and laughed. It raised up shadow-clawed hands and grabbed both Dortlyk and Gr'kmu by the throat.
*Perfect! They are perfect! E'en their names! Yes, they are perfect!*
"I shall miss you, my sons," Thanos said gravely. "Know that now, if ne'er you did."
"What sorcery is this, father?" M'mrofg roared, leaping up as a towering flame. The table in front of him hissed and sizzled, and the spinning Shade turned to face him, grinning, with Dortlyk and Gr'kmu spitted by their still-gasping throats. A third hand shot out of the Shade's center to grab M'mrofg.
*Burn, little fire-giant, burn if you can! Let a real demon show you how it is done!*
"There is a price for magic, M'mrofg: always. Have you not learned that yet?" Thanos shook his head sadly. "The greater the sponsor, the greater the sacrifice required. I have not withheld my best, have I?"
The roar from the center of the table intensified as the Thanos' three sons were drawn in, dismembered, and consumed. A dark whirlwind sparked, bulged, and sucked up the bloody table as well. A dark cocoon hovered in the center of Thanos' chamber.
"Are you pleased, my lord?"
The cocoon shivered and tore, and a monstrous creature stepped out. Grey skinned like the Skrull, with blue paint reminiscent of the Kree battle dress, muscles bulged even as claws ripped away the remaining shell. Faceless, a bright flame began at its belly, and travelled up to its head, spiraling outward as horns.
"I am," Dormammu said, nodding. "But you have kept your youngest from me," it chided.
"The lad was not ready for such a workout. He is too young."
"Another time, then." The Shade-become-flesh sniffed. "You have female assassins."
"My daughters are Gamorra and Nebula. I thought to save them in case we need your sister to join us."
"How thoughtful."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Elsewhere on the ship...
"Nebula, what is that noise? Does Father have trouble with the engines?"
Nebula frowned. The walls were not thick enough to block sound properly.
"No, child. Your brothers do mingle with Father's guest."
"Oh. They're awfully loud, don't you think?"
"That has always been their way. Thane...do you pray?"
"Sometimes. Mother taught thus, before Father sent her away. Should I pray for my brothers, do you think?"
Nebula wondered where Thanos had picked up this innocent, and what he really intended for the boy. "No, child. I would have you pray for me."
"Ok, sissie Neb. How shall I pray for you?"
"Pray that I am not invited to one of Father's dinners," she said smoothly.
"You're weird, Nebula."
"Thane, you have no idea."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Earth...Nick Fury's office...
Nick Fury slammed the whisky bottle down, and tossed the shot glass contents to the back of his throat. AAAAAAA, it burned. He didn't normally drink this early in the morning, but his head was pounding, and he just wanted it to quit...
At least there was good news from the Lemurian Star...
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Triskelion Medical Ward...
A young woman in nurse's scrubs knocked on the door.
"Mrs. Wright? Hi, I'm Macy, one of your aides. Mrs. Libbetz said you were having trouble placing calls. Can I help?"
"Bless her heart, yes. I need an outside line to call my sweetie, but this phone...Honestly, when did landlines become so complicated?" The old woman fretted, and wrung aged hands.
"Sure, honey. Do you have the number handy? I don't know why they didn't let you keep your cell phone, at least..." The young woman prattled on cheerfully, picking up the receiver and pressing buttons for the outside line. "I can't remember all my friends' phone numbers any more, either. It's all in my Contacts list, you know..."
"I know exactly what you mean," Mrs. Wright said, nodding, as she hefted the metal lamp from beside her bed and brought it down on the young woman's skull.
TBC