8. The Battle Begins

Fury was not very happy with the results of Steve's attempt at interrogation. Steve could see it even as he filled the others in on what had been said during his conversation with Frost. Or Jack, as the kid had allowed Steve to call him.

"So you didn't really get anything out of him," Fury said in a tone that indicated his hopes hadn't been very high in the first place.

Steve leaned to the polished table in the middle of the meeting room.

"I did," he said, "I think you should listen to him."

"You let his act get to you," Fury stated.

"So you think he's lying?" Steve noticed he had raised his voice just a little, "Look, just because I'm 'nice' it doesn't mean I'm gullible. I've seen people lie before. That kid was being pretty darn sincere."

"I never said he was lying," Fury said, "But he is not telling us nearly enough either."

"I think we should let him go," Steve insisted, "If we really want to find out something about these Guardians, this isn't the way to go."

Fury shook his head.

"We still can't be entirely sure what we're up against. We can't take any chances."

"What we do know," said Tony from his spot at the couch, "Is that there's a group of spirit-creatures with super powers and a really long lifespan whose gimmicks are based on holiday mascots and who like spreading joy all over the world. Am I the only one who's thinking actually seeing that would be one of the best highs ever?"

Fury looked at Tony very coldly. Tony shrugged his shoulders.

"Just saying."

"We will wait for Thor, then," Fury went on as if Tony hadn't said anything, "Hopefully we get this sorted out quickly."

Steve hoped so too. And he hoped it would get sorted out for the better.

Toothiana crouched on a slim tree branch, her eyes focused on the grey fortress that looked like an exceptionally well-guarded warehouse. Most of the guards were relatively hidden and probably electronic. Toothiana wasn't quite so well-versed in technology. That was North's forte. But she didn't need to know much about it for this scouting mission. She wouldn't even be going in now, not quite. Not when these Avengers were still in the building. She was too large to slip past their radars.

Baby Tooth chattered next to her, worrying about Jack and pointing out how many powerful people now stayed in the building where Jack was being held.

"I know," Toothiana whispered, "North is right; we need to get them out of the way."

When Toothiana had asked for volunteers to go inside in her stead, Baby Tooth had been the first to raise her hand. But she had done enough for now. Toothiana could see how weary she was; just leading her queen to her discovery had taken its toll on her. Toothiana knew Baby Tooth would be fine after a while if she rested, but before that Toothiana wouldn't send her into such a dangerous place.

The fairy she had sent to scout inside the building returned, landing on Toothiana's outstretched hand and giving her report. The people inside were calling for more reinforcements. A man named Banner – whom Toothiana could recognize as the man with a very dangerous split-personality – was on his way there. And a very efficient female agent had been called from her mission in South East Asia. She would be coming as soon as she could. Toothiana pursed her lips with worry.

"We need to intercept them," she decided, "Come, girls! Let's get the others!"

North watched as the lights all across the globe pulsed softly. The children's belief was strong, perhaps stronger than it had been in years. Pitch's effort to extinguish those lights had ultimately led the Guardians to be even stronger. And judging by recent events, they now had believers they could have done without as well. North wiped a large hand across his face, combing his long white beard thoughtfully. Toothiana had just returned from her scouting trip, and she had brought tidings none of the Guardians particularly liked.

"More of them," North stated after the fairy queen finished her report, "I do not like this."

"We'll still stick to the plan, right?" Bunnymund asked, "We'll just have to spread out more."

"I can talk to the woman in Asia," Toothiana volunteered, "It's my home turf. We should stop her before she can even start getting close."

Sandy created an affirmative checkmark over his head. Then he created a picture of a man turning into a giant and pointed to himself.

"Yes," North agreed, "Sandy can meet with Mr. banner. Bunny and I will go straight to Shield."

They had already agreed that it should be North who would go see Mr. Fury first. He would approach the man in peace while Bunnymund covered for him in case things got bad. North would talk to this man as equals, man to man. Leader to leader. Nicholas to Nicholas. Maybe he could explain this stubborn man something about them. Then, one way or another, they would get Jack out of there. If Fury or anyone else objected to that, they would fight.

"We will start right away," North decided, "Is everyone ready?"

"Ya know we are, mate," Bunnymund said.

Yes. North knew that indeed.

It took less than an hour for North and Bunnymund to be prepared and appear into the forest near where Jack was being held. A couple of Toothiana's fairies accompanied them in case they needed swift messengers. Tall trees rose around them, innocent and without any indication they were playing a part in hiding a secret base. Bunnymund sniffed the air, his ears perked and fur bristling.

"Something ain't right," he said in a low voice.

North agreed. Despite the apparent innocence of the forest, there was something sinister in the air. Of course, it could just be their own anxiety for things that were just about to happen. A heavy blanket of depression surrounded them, making the air almost physically stuffy to breathe. There seemed to be grey clouds gathering into the sky in anticipation of a thunderstorm. North spared a glance at the treetops high over them and then shook his head. He motioned Bunnymund to follow and continued onwards. His heavy boots sunk into the soft undergrowth with every step. His fur coat was a bit too warm for the weather, but he ignored the uncomfortable warmth and instead focused on the task at hand.

"North?"

North stopped at Bunnymund's call. He looked over his shoulder at the tall rabbit, who was staring at the shadows beside them.

"What is it?" North inquired.

Bunnymund was sniffing the air again, his paw going for a boomerang at his back.

"Something definitely ain't right," Bunnymund growled, "Pitch is here too."

North felt something cold sink into his stomach and he squinted into the darkness. Now he saw them too.

Dark shadows with spindly claws crawled among the trees like liquid spiders. Empty eyes and twisted faces flickered in and out of darkness. They were accompanied by black horses with demonic red eyes. Pitch's army of Nightmares was still rather small, but it seemed the Nightmare King had found some of his older allies to fill in the gaps in his ranks. They weren't corrupted dreams. No, they were something even more sinister. Corrupted people.

"Fearlings," North whispered.

Bunnymund nodded.

"I think they're going for Frostbite too."

North immediately drew his large sabres. The shadows glanced at them and then screeched, flitting deeper into the darkness and towards the hidden base.

"Oh, Shostakovich!" North blurted out, "We need to hurry!"

"Ya don't have to tell me twice, mate!" Bunnymund said and was on his way, hopping after the retreating mass of shadows and fear.

North bolted after him, his blades ready for action.

Bruce caught a glimpse of something golden that swept past the window.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" the driver – whose name had turned out to be agent Cunningham – asked, looking at his mirrors, "I don't see anything... maybe you're getting tired, Mr. Banner? We have been driving for a good while."

Well, now that Bruce thought about it, he was getting a bit drowsy. Cunningham shook his head.
"Hell... I'm getting tired too... can barely keep my eyes open."

"Are you okay?" Bruce asked worriedly. The driver had been fine just a moment ago.

"Yeah," Cunningham said, "Hold on, I'll just pull over for a second. We can catch some fresh air."

Bruce sighed, but didn't protest. The problem with an inconspicuous vehicle was that it was also a bit old-fashioned compared to the stuff S.H.I.E.L.D. usually used. This car actually needed someone to drive it all the time. Cunningham pulled the car over and both men climbed out. Bruce breathed in the air that wasn't all that fresh seeing how they were at the side of a road. But it was fresher than in the car, at least. Cunningham stretched his arms over his head and yawned, looking up at the sky as he did.
"I think a thunderstorm is coming," he commented nonchalantly, "It's already in the air. Gives me a headache."

Bruce looked up as well. Yes, the man was right. And Bruce had a feeling this thunderstorm wouldn't come alone.

He turned back towards the car and it took him a moment to actually register what the hell was going on there. A small, golden man floated near the vehicle, looking very proudly at the tyres that apparently had just been cut. There was at least three things wrong with that image.

"Hey!" Bruce shouted, "What do you think you're-?!"

"Who are you talking to?" Cunningham turned around, "Hey! The tyres've been cut!"

The little golden man looked back at Bruce, golden eyes widening. Then he smiled widely and waved. Bruce narrowed his eyes.
"Okay, are you just trying to annoy me?"

The golden man shook his head, miming something that probably indicated he just wanted to talk.

"Um, Mr. Banner?" Cunningham said cautiously, "Are you alright? Look, we'll just change the tyres. We're really well prepared for damage."

The golden man inclined his head and raised his hand again, this time as a sign for the others to halt. Then the round, golden head snapped to the side, and the man stared into emptiness for a long moment, a moment during which Bruce held his hand up for a very perplexed Cunningham to keep the man still. Then the golden man turned back at them and Bruce watched with astonishment when images appeared over the man's head. Warning signs, Xs and other images telling them not to go where they were going. Bruce shook his head in irritation.

"This is getting weird. Yeah, let's change the tyres and get going."

He and Cunningham both approached the car, but the golden man raised his hand once more. Instead of a wave or some other gesture, though, the man brought his hand down swiftly... and a golden whip wrapped around the car and smashed it into a tree in one deafening boom that was followed by some broken, shrill clinks of the bulletproof windows shattering.

"WHAT THE-?" Cunningham screamed, stumbling towards the car. Bruce grabbed the man's shoulder, his hand shaking slightly.

"Wait!" he commanded.

The golden man looked at the wreckage of the car. The car's reinforcements hadn't apparently held at all in face of a golden whip. The golden man waved again and then he was flying away. Just like that. What a bastard.

"See if you can call Fury," Bruce said through clenched teeth, "Tell him we were attacked by... a weird, golden thing."

"What thing?" Cunningham asked, "I didn't see-"

Bruce glared at the man, tightening his hold on the shoulder just a little.
"Just. Call."

The driver gulped and nodded. Bruce let the man go and turned to look at the spot where the golden man had disappeared into the forest. It had to be one of the things Fury needed help with. Might as well start working now. And vent some serious annoyance over the whole thing while he was at it.

"I'll see if I can catch it," he growled and then broke into a sprint, leaving a very confused agent staring after him.

He could already feel the change coming. He let it happen.

Natasha Romanoff had been mostly kept in the dark about the happenings in North America during her time in Asia. Her mission had nothing to do with the strange things that had happened lately. Nothing about the energies or the creatures behind them. Hers was a rather simple reconnaissance mission, or at least is should have been. But her targets had decided to get difficult, and she had been stuck in Thailand for weeks longer than she had estimated. Fury had already called her and said a few words about five super-powered creatures causing some trouble and warning her that she might be called back soon no matter what was going on in Thailand.

It both annoyed and intrigued Natasha. She had just got her mission back on the right track. She almost had everything she needed. She was sitting in a colourful outdoor restaurant in Bangkok, dressed like an average tourist and drinking ice water. She had wrapped a bandanna around her head to cover her red hair. The simple black T-shirt she wore along with Capri trousers concealed a surprising amount of weapons. She adopted an expression of a moderately fascinated tourist when she looked around, but her focus was solely on a certain customer in the same restaurant she sat in.

She sipped some water through painted lips. Her hand was tanned from the prolonged stay in Thailand, as was the rest of her. The customer a few tables away from her looked around in a bout of anxiety. Their eyes met for the briefest moment, but Natasha moved her gaze away quickly. The man didn't realize he had just looked into the eyes of his tracker.

Then Natasha's cell phone vibrated in her bag. She let out a very long sigh and put the thin device to her ear.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, "I'm in the middle of something."

"No you're not," Fury's voice came from the other end, "We've arranged you a ride back here. Something is up."

"Why is it that something is always up when I'm working?" Natasha whispered in annoyance, "Where do you want me to go?"

"There's a jet waiting for you a bit out of the ways from Bangkok. Watch out for invisible attacks."

Natasha rolled her eyes.
"Just give me the location."

Fury did. Natasha paid her bill in cash and cast another look at her target. She hoped distracting her on the job was worth it all.

It took her a couple of hours to get to the location Fury had given her. Said location really was a bit out of the way, almost in a protected forest park. Not quite close enough to catch the attention of the local authorities. Natasha figured it was a bit of a waste of time and effort, seeing how S.H.I.E.L.D. could have just sent the small jet to the actual airport to pick her up. Or was Fury now paranoid enough to think these "Guardians" were watching the airports too? Natasha didn't really know what to think about it all. Apparently S.H.I.E.L.D. had caught something during her absence. Something strange that didn't work alone. Well, seeing how this planet had just recently been the battlefield of gods and aliens, Natasha didn't find the idea of hidden super-powered group all that weird.

She trekked the last stretch of the way on foot. She had thrown a dark grey jacket over her T-shirt and taken off her bandanna. The ground crunched under her combat boots and she disturbed a few birds that took off into a wild flight. The area was otherwise quiet, almost eerily so. The jet was there, in the midst of twisting trees near a serene lake. Natasha walked briskly up to the jet, stopping when she realized something was wrong. She could discern the pilot through the dimmed window. The man was slumped against the controls, the rise and fall of his chest indicating he was just unconscious. But unconscious was bad enough. Natasha fingered the Glock -pistol strapped to her hip, concealed by her shirt and jacket. The leaves in the trees rustled. She was not alone.

One would think that calling a godlike being who didn't reside on Earth at the moment would be difficult. However, after the battle with the Chitauri, Fury had made sure it was fairly easy, if a bit time-consuming. Not too long after Rogers' talk with the wintry kid in the cell did Thor finally arrive, thunder and lightning at his wake. He landed in front of the main doors of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s facility, looking exactly like he had when they had last met. Broad-shouldered, armoured, and with very Scandinavian features. Fury was there to greet him with a briefing.

"I called you here because we have a bit of a mystery in our hands," he explained as he led the other into the building, "A strange group calling themselves the Guardians has started acting up."

The mighty Asgardian looked at Fury questioningly.
"The Guardians? Surely you don't mean the Guardians of Childhood?"

So Thor had known about them. Fury really hoped he would have got hold of the man sooner.

"That is exactly who I mean," Fury said grimly, "We have one of them in custody right now. He attacked Stark in his tower."

"You captured one of them?" Thor's eyes widened in surprise, "I didn't know you were even aware of their existence!"

"We certainly are now," Fury muttered, "What do you know about them?"

"It isn't your business to go around capturing spirits!" Thor said sternly. Fury could see the man wasn't happy about the situation at all.

"We're just making sure we don't have another Loki in our hands," Fury pointed out.

Thor's face darkened at the mention of his brother. Fury continued talking before the Asgardian could take it the wrong way:

"So what do you know about them?"

Thor looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I do not know as much as you might hope," he admitted, "Us Asgardians usually just leave the Guardians be. They take care of their own duties. Their work is something we have nothing to do with."

"What duties?" Fury asked, even though he had a sneaking suspicion he already knew what the God of Thunder's answer would be.

"They..." Thor suddenly froze, "What was that?"

Fury frowned. He hadn't heard or seen anything.

"What?"

He got his answer when a bulletproof window near the ceiling shattered without any discernible reason. Thor dropped immediately into a fighting stance, his hammer in his hand. Fury drew his gun.

"We're under attack!" Thor exclaimed.

Jack Frost was brought out of his near-sleep when the first window shattered. He jumped to his feet and instantly felt the sense of foreboding that was usually brought by the presence of a certain shadow under the bed. He looked up and saw a shade with twisted limbs sliding across the ceiling and into the air vents. He felt a strange coldness in his chest. It wasn't the nice, crisp kind of cold he was always surrounded with.

Pitch Black was here. These people were under attack.

"Okay, that's it," Jack said out loud, "Enough playing nice. I'm getting out of here."

The agent guarding him was busy talking into his microphone, but he was alerted back to his duties when the first frozen snowball hit the cell's wall.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, kid?" the agent demanded, putting a hand on his gun and taking a step towards the floor-heating button.

Jack formed another snowball in his hand. Creating snow felt unnaturally difficult without his staff. It was as if winter didn't want to come to him any more. Or actually, it was more like it did want to, but couldn't find a proper way. Jack breathed on the snowball, freezing it all the way through, and chucked it with force that put most professional baseball players to shame. It hit precisely the same spot where he had thrown the previous one.

"I'm getting out of here," he said almost nonchalantly to the agent, "If you want to help me, you could just open this thing and let me go."

His third snowball caused the glass to crack.

"If you do that you'll avoid some serious property damage. I'm getting out either way."

The agent shook his head.

"Like hell you are!"

He pushed the heating button. Jack could hear some of the circuits beneath his feet popping. A few days in close proximity with the bringer of winter who had been channelling his powers downwards had frozen the floor from underneath. The system was still mostly operational, though, and Jack could feel the heat pushing through the layer of ice he had painstakingly created while lying on the floor. He threw two more snowballs in quick succession, trying to keep his feet moving when the floor heated to uncomfortable levels.

The agent drew his gun. Jack touched the cracks he had made in the wall and let spikes of ice grow into them, weakening the spot further.

"Trust me, I'm doing this to help you," he assured, although he was sure the agent didn't believe him.

The floor was burning the soles of his feet now. He staggered backwards until his back hit the wall. He was out of time. The ice melting under the floor made more circuits pop and sparks flashed between the seams of the tiles. The agent on the other side aimed his gun at Jack, looking a bit lost on what was going on. Jack formed one more snowball, doing his best to ignore the pain in his feet or the air that was quickly heating up to unbearable levels. The snowball hit the cracked spot, and as it did, Jack was already sprinting towards the glass. He took a deep breath and jumped, shielding his face and ramming into the wall.

Whether it was the abrupt changes in the temperature, the frozen projectiles, the short-circuiting machinery or the teenager-shaped battering ram that finally did it, but S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reinforced glass cell wall gave in. Jack flopped onto the floor in the middle of a rain of stinging shards. He felt one of the larger shards under his forearm, the impact and his own weight pushing it through the skin. He gasped in pain but managed to roll back to his feet. A few shards rained down from his body, some clinging to his hair and clothes. A gun clicked next to his ear.

"Don't move," the agent said warningly, pressing the barrel almost painfully against Jack's forehead.

"Sorry," Jack said quietly, "But I really, really have to."

His uninjured hand moved in a flash, lightly touching the gun and freezing it solid. The agent yelped in surprise and pain; he would be suffering from mild frostbite for some time. Jack aimed a quick punch at the man's head and watched him stumble back. Before the agent got his bearings back, Jack had already left the room and was running in the corridors, wiping shards of glass from his person as he went. A couple of agents dashed towards him from around a corner, and Jack could barely react before they collided with him. Or more accurately, ran right through him. Jack gasped at the emptiness that filled him, doubling over and staggering to hide in the nearest alcove. So he had been right: not everyone in the facility even believed in him. Fury had probably wanted to keep him secret from everyone who wasn't directly concerned with the matter.

He could hear the sounds of battle coming through the nearest broken window. The attack seemed to be mostly outside at the moment. That meant Jack might have time to find his staff – if it really was in the building – and get into fighting condition.

He looked at the shard embedded into his arm. It had lodged itself pretty deep, almost scraping the bone. Lazy droplets of dark blood seeped into the sleeve of his hoodie. Jack sighed and gripped the shard.

"Ow, ow, ow," he gritted his teeth and yanked the shard out in one painful movement. He suppressed a whimper of pain and pressed his good hand over the wound. It would heal soon enough, he knew. He could already feel the muscle and skin starting to knit back together now that the foreign object was out. He slipped out of the alcove and into the maze of corridors.

Author's Note: Get your trumpets and play some fanfare because we have just entered TOTAL CHAOS! No, really. This is one of the main reasons why I wanted to write this: to have the Guardians and the Avengers actually fight, and it finally begins. Now the question is, who will win? Will there be winners at all? Will I be able to keep this mess together and keep track of who's fighting who and actually bring this to a coherent conclusion? The answers to these questions are all varying degrees of "I don't know!" I try to keep the POVs from jumping so much in the future chapters, as in each following fight-chapter will have one "main POV" and only occasionally cut to other stuff.

Yay I gave an estimated time for an update and actually managed to make it! Considering we had a day off from school it wasn't that hard but still... I don't think I want to give times for my updates anymore. It makes me nervous. I get really upset if I can't keep my promises.

Agent Cunningham is probably my first named OC in this fic. He's not going to do much, though. He's just there to drive things. I gave him a name so I didn't have to keep calling him "the driver" all the time.

Also, I'm rather sure reinforced glass isn't that easy to break, but we can just shrug that off by remembering that Jack is magic.

You guys are still so very supportive! Now I really hope I manage to keep this story together and as good as I can. For you. Smiley face!