"I'm not sure about this, guys," Steve fingered his shield skittishly, "Something doesn't feel right."
Tony tapped on his earpiece and grimaced, "Danny's communications are down. I haven't caught anything since that big shock of static interference."
"Probably made like a ghost and disappeared," Natasha replied smarmily.
Steve frowned at the ex-assassin's implications and turned to Thor, "Are you alright?"
The god was hunched in his seat, shoulders tense as he stared at the Blackbird's metallic wall unseeingly.
Steve pressed again, "Thor?"
Thor seemed to snap out of his haze to turn bright blue eyes on the time-traveller, "I am conflicted," he admitted softly, his voice worn, "I have not been to this part of Midgard in over a millennia. Not since the fall of the Draugar when the Dark One was finally defeated and cursed into Hel's domain."
"The Dark One?" Clint asked from next to Natasha in the cockpit.
"We called him a Pariah of Darkness. His fearsome power led the rest of the Draugar to the near-destruction of this world."
"A Pariah of Darkness? The Commander mentioned him," Natasha glanced at her partner who nodded.
"So what happened?" Bruce's foot began to tap nervously against the floor. Steve fought to keep his own still.
"My father banished him deep into the bowels of Helheim, sealing his powers away into two ancient heirlooms – a crown born from Muspellheimr's everfires for the coming of Ragnarok, and a ring from the dwarves of Svatalfheim forged to hold back even the mightiest of rages," Thor looked morose, "Many suffered and fell during those dark times at the Pariah of Darkness's hand. The Draugar were near unstoppable. Three generations of kings fell during their reign, none were spared – the women, the younglings… What was left of them was laid to rest in Uppsala."
A heavy silence filled the Blackbird, Steve clasped his hands and bowed his head in a silent prayer.
"Danny's not like that," Tony spoke up, his voice strong. Steve looked up in surprise, "He's better than that."
Thor's face looked old as he whispered, "I will not lay my trust in that demon, but I have chosen to lay it in you. I can only hope that you are right."
The plane hit the ground with barely a jolt as Clint smoothly directed it across the rough gravel stretch, coming to a stop by a graveyard resting on a steep incline.
Steve hopped out of the Blackbird as soon as the platform was lowered enough for him to squeeze out of – glad to be rid of the solemn atmosphere and into the crisp early-spring air. The others followed suit, treading onto the rough road and glancing around curiously and warily. Thor's expression was drawn when he shuffled out of the plane, refusing to make eye contact.
"Where's Danny?" Bruce finally asked.
Steve gazed around the empty village. The ground was wet with recently fallen rain, mud pooling onto the road from where it had slid down the churchyard's slope, footprints littering the ground, yet there wasn't anyone in sight.
Clint leaned out of the plane, "I'll keep an eye on the bird. You go look for our mascot-zombie."
Steve nodded the affirmative before motioning for the rest of the Avengers to follow him as they began their trek up the hill, the Captain shifting his grip on his shield as he made his way to the closest grave. He stooped down curiously next to a muddied and torn bouquet of flowers seated on the stone, there were footprints noticeably smaller than Danny's that had trekked across the site.
"Be on guard," Steve warned as he stood, "We'll cover more ground if we split up. Natasha, Thor, head down that track," pointing at Tony and Bruce, he said, "You two go check out the barns on the far-east side. I'll see what I can find here."
The team went their separate ways without complaint, leaving the man-out-of-time alone surrounded by tombstones. Travelling deeper into the gravesite, Steve struggled to follow the patterns of the footsteps that weaved their way across the ground, the muddy prints seemed to jump sporadically, taking leaping bounds no normal person could ever have accomplish. Edging his way towards the temple at the top of the rise, a trail of footprints made him freeze – spanning over two feet, twin prints were pressed deep into the earth, with four claw-marks leaving deep fissures in their wake – definitely not human.
Checking to see if his mask was secure, the Captain hurried silently towards the tall structure, catching sight of the splintered doors and flattened himself against the wall out of sight.
Steeling his nerves, Steve moved to peek around the corner—
"Boo!"
Steve whirled his shield around, sending it right through Danny's intangible head and cracking it into the church wall, "Danny!"
"Yo," Danny floated a few inches above the ground, arms comfortably crossed over his chest as if Steve hadn't attempted to behead him.
Steve paused at the casual greeting, "Any sign of Loki or Vlad?"
The halfa shook his head cheerily, "Nope. No sign of the demented duo."
"What about any Draugar?"
"Got nothin'," Danny then glanced suspiciously over his shoulder and leaned in close, gesturing for Steve to follow suit, before he whispered conspiratorially, "Between you and me, Stevie, I think the Director's losing it."
Steve balked at the nickname and took a step back, treading onto one of the oversize paw prints, "What happened to your communicator?"
"Dropped it in the mud." Danny shrugged nonchalantly, leaning comfortably against the wall despite the fact he was still floating.
"Along with the rest of you too?"
Danny glanced down at his mud-caked jumpsuit and grinned sheepishly, turning intangible as the slop slid off him, "Alright, I might have tripped."
The Captain eyed Danny warily. Something was off about him that he couldn't place. Danny blinked innocently at him with large, electric-blue eyes, his white hair ruffling softly in the wind, causing Steve to shake his head of the peculiar thought. He was talking to a kid who could float through walls, of course there was something off about him.
"Well if there's no sign of Loki or Vlad I guess we should just head back and meet with the others."
Danny saluted him, poking his tongue out playfully, "Roger that, Rogers!"
Steve couldn't shake off the feeling of unease as he trailed the energetic half-ghost back to the Blackbird.
/ / /
Nick Fury was a lot of things. Some – like Tony Stark – called him bedlamite and obsessive. He wouldn't deny those claims, but he felt his work justified such actions.
Fury stood in front of the large monitors as his superiors bore down on him, dressed primly with their pressed suits and creased faces.
A particularly stern man with thinning hair spoke, "I cannot say that I agree with your actions, Director. This Draugur is one of those after all. Wouldn't it be easier to destroy them with minimal damage?"
Murmurs of agreement swept through the room.
Fury's voice was cold and commanding, "Do I need to remind you, Sir, that that 'minimal damage' comes at the price of an entire city and its citizens? Or should I also remind you about what nearly happened in New York not six months ago?"
A woman with thin lips and sharp eyes croaked, "So you plan to use your Avengers again? How do you know they can be trusted?"
"SHIELD has its ways."
The audio was muted from Fury as the heads quickly debated his proposition, their hands covering their mouths in an attempt to stop Fury from reading their lips.
The sound was reverted back on shortly after.
"Very well," a man with a silver ponytail proclaimed, stroking his goatee, "We will agree to your terms as long as you allow us constant surveillance. Keep us in the loop, you might say. If not…" the man let the threat hang in the air.
Fury's mouth hooked down, "And who are you, might I ask, to try and blackmail me with the safety of this planet?"
The first head's frown eased at the mention of his colleague, "This is Mr Masters, Director Fury. He's a more recent addition to the board."
"Very recent. Considering I just consulted with you all only a few hours ago."
Masters smirked down at Fury, "I'll have you know that the safety of this planet is of my most dire concern, and considering that I am the mayor of that poor city and citizens that is under threat… Well, you can tell where my loyalties lie."
"Kind of a big jump on the political ladder, don't you think?" Fury perused.
Masters chuckled, "I'm a businessman second, Director. My true passion is securing the safety of this planet and if I can help in any way, then I will."
The woman cut in before Fury's sharpened tongue could get away from him, "If you can't keep that Draugur under control, Director, I will see personally to your discharge. I've heard that many people have shown interest in your position."
The communications dropped at that statement, the screens turning black, leaving Fury to muse in the darkness.
/ / /
Clint watched from behind the thick double-sided glass as Danny iterated the events of Uppsala to a nervous-looking agent, who was constantly throwing glances at the heavy steel door every time the Draugur waved his hands animatedly. Natasha stood beside him, staring intently while chewing on her lower lip.
"Something wrong?"
His co-worker frowned frustrated as she continued to stare into the small room, watching the Draugur throw his head back with a roaring laugh while the agent nervously tittered.
"Him."
Clint rolled his eyes at her monosyllabic answer. He shouldn't have been surprised, "Elaborate?"
"There's something off about him. Something… not normal."
Clint smirked wryly, "And what would you know about normal? I know for a fact that you've never bothered understanding teenagers before – especially undead ones."
The ex-assassin threw him an agitated look, "I just have a feeling that there's something he's hiding – something big – and the last thing I'm ever going to do is let myself get caught off-guard."
"When have you ever?" Clint made himself comfortable in one of the few chairs littered through the room, glancing into the interrogation room where the SHIELD agent had seemed to loosen up considerably, bantering back and forth with the Draugur. The security cameras still hadn't been fixed since Danny had destroyed them. No matter how much he claimed he wasn't involved in Loki and Vlad's heist, security plans had been set for SHIELD's finest to watch the alien ghost constantly.
"I'll take first shift, so go to sleep, Romanoff, and don't think too much about it. Fury's got the cadaver under a pretty tight collar from what I can tell."
"I suppose you're right," Natasha nodded as she made her way lethargically to the exit, "See you in five hours."
Clint leaned over to snatch a nearby energy bar and settled back into his seat, "Oh, and Romanoff! If you see Stark on the way, tell him that Hill wants to talk to him about that missing intern of his, Dan-Dan or whatever he's decided to call him," he snorted as he peeled back the wrapper, "Didn't know Daniel was such a popular name, though I wouldn't put it past Stark to be conceited enough to not even bother learning the kid's or the Draugur's and just calls them both Danny."
Natasha froze, her hand raised to swipe her key card, "What?"
"It's nothing. Just tell Stark if you see him, would you?" Clint said, waving her off.
The Black Widow seemed to hesitate before tearing her card through the slot and rushing out the door, leaving Clint to gaze bored through the window pane at the enthusiastic Draugur relaying a story about once destroying an overgrown killer plant.
/ / /
The panic was rising in him again as he scurried in the direction of the room he lodged in with Pepper, his hands balled into fists to stop them from shaking. Tony's steps were uneven on the overly-bright tiles, he glancing over his shoulder every so often as he struggled to breathe, feeling his windpipe contract uncomfortably and making him pant in haggard bursts. He was exhausted, running on only power-naps and an oxymoronic mix of dirty martinis and ristretto shots, it had almost been two days since he'd slept for longer than a couple of minutes – the last chance he'd had was when Pepper had kicked him out of his own room in favour of Danny. Not that he could truly blame her.
Reaching the corner, he caught sight of an equally exhausted Avenger. Natasha's red curls flicked around her face every time she turned in her pacing, much to her seeming frustration. Reactively straightening, Tony ironed on a smirk as he awkwardly ambled over, thrusting his sweating hands deep in his pockets as he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.
"And what can I do for you, Miss Romanoff? I presume it is me you're looking for, right?" he attempted to shove the quiver out of his voice, keeping his hands tucked away. Tony was almost disappointed to find that the SHIELD agent didn't bat an eye with his sudden appearance, instead choosing to glare at him dangerously.
"What's the connection?"
"The what?" Tony's face furrowed in confusion.
Natasha heaved a sigh, "The connection, Stark, I know you're hiding something. As much of an idiot you like to act, sadly I know you aren't one. You wouldn't fall for something as simple as mistaken identity – you have a photographic memory."
"Was there a compliment in there somewhere? I might have a photographic memory but that doesn't make me a mind-reader, Natasha." Tony drawled unevenly.
Natasha seemed to restrain herself from snorting aloud, "You've never accepted an intern before, and let's face it, this one doesn't seem like he's going to be winning any Nobel prizes anytime soon."
"I'm an opportunist." the Ironman shrugged.
Natasha's fingers drummed against the holster on her hip, "There's a connection between 'Dan-Dan, the missing intern', and 'Dan-Dan, the Draugur'. What is it?"
Tony feinted, "I don't know what you mean."
"It's curious, isn't it?" a sly smirk crawled across the agent's face, "That the moment the first 'Dan-Dan' disappears, the second one shows up shortly after."
Tony gritted his teeth, "Danny's harmless."
"Which one?"
"I thought you were trying to get the red out of your ledger?"
Natasha waved dismissively as she made her way down the corridor, "I may still be trying to wipe the red, but nobody said anything about green."
Tony stood staring long after the agent had disappeared around the corner before he bolted into his room, the automatic doors sliding shut behind him. Once inside he headed straight across the room, snatching up a bottle filled with a familiar amber liquid and, with hands grasping onto the neck dangerously tight, attempted to pour two fingers, the alcohol sloshing over the rim in his hurry.
Slamming down the bottle of 80 proof, Tony threw back his head and downed the drink, feeling comforted by the familiar burn as it began to trickle its way down his throat.
"Thirsty?"
Tony jumped, blanching as the drink spilt down the wrong tube in his fright. Spinning around, he brandished the empty tumbler in front of him as a weapon, only to see Danny in all his dark-haired glory lazing gleefully on Tony's king bed, fiddling with one of the many mechanical toys Pepper has confiscated from him and hidden somewhere in the room. Obviously Danny had found the stash.
Clearing his throat and blinking the tears out of his burning eyes, Tony sputtered, "Aren't you supposed to be being babysat by Mother Hen?"
Danny laughed gleefully at Tony's snarky comment and the older man was surprised to see how young he looked when he did, "I don't think your friend Barton would be very happy with that nickname. Anyway, I got bored, so I left."
"Of course, and they just let you stroll out of your little interrogation session." Tony stated rhetorically, desperately trying to contain the tremors that rattled through him as he timidly placed the lowball glass back in its original place.
"I believe they called it a 'debriefing' to be exact." Danny joked, flicking the small bullet-shaped capsule up into the air to snatch it mid-fall.
"That didn't answer my question."
Danny leered, "I have my ways."
The fine hairs on the back Tony's neck rose at the sight of the undead boy's bared teeth, making him fight to keep his breathing regular, "Alright then," He eventually wheezed. Sinking into a chair on the other side of the room, Tony watched Danny blankly as he distractedly played with the little device. "I wouldn't do that." He warned meekly, slumping in his seat.
Danny glanced up, his own stare just as hollow as Tony's felt, his hands poised over the single metallic twist-lock, "Do what?"
Tony nodded towards the cylinder, "That. It's still a prototype. Dunno what'd happen if you messed with it too much."
"What is it?"
"A little team-project I did with Doctor Green when he was in town. It's supposed to be a tracking device that uses gamma particles to create hotspots – not enough to harm a human but enough to make a spike on any radiation maps." Tony waved his hands self-congratulatory, feeling his heartbeat slow down the longer he talked.
Danny frowned confused, a wide smile glued to his face, "I thought Bruce was a medical doctor?"
"Double degree," Tony clarified, "And by 'team-project' I really meant that I built it while Bruce took my lunch orders and complained a lot."
The two lulled into silence. Tony felt his fingers twitch for the scotch as Danny simply sat there, his eyes flat but cheerily focused on the ogive shell. The billionaire felt a tension rise in the room as the quiet continued, but for the first time in years Tony couldn't find the confidence to break it.
"I can't sleep," he finally admitted.
Danny just turned and looked at him, the frown-lines that often creased the corners of his mouth whenever the Ironman was around were nowhere to be seen.
There was no more spurring needed, the words seemed to just tumble from Tony's mouth before he could even consider snatching them back, "I haven't been able to for a while now – not since the whole disaster in Manhattan," Tony tiredly rubbed his forehead, "Every time I close my eyes I get these flashes… memories."
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, head bent, "A-and I gotta admit, falling through that wormhole…" Tony swallowed hard, his throat still aching from alcohol, "I was scared."
Danny still hadn't made a sound. Tony took it as an inclination to continue.
Licking his chapped lips he stared hard at his hands, "Ever since the attack last spring nothing's been the same. I can't sleep, I can't think, I can't do anything right! I mean, aliens of all things? Come on, an ex-co-worker who looked like he'd ransacked my tool shed is one thing, but big scaly grey monsters?" he took a shuddering breath that rattled throughout his frame, "And then you turn up! This kid with these crazy powers that goes around saving the local diner like some sort of cheesy cartoon superhero – like it's a normal thing! This sixteen year old boy who has the power to knock the Hulk to the ground, blows it all off under some schoolhouse values of what's right and wrong!"
Tony was panting by the end of his rant, his hands fisted in his hair in an effort to stop his body trembling.
He choked out a pitiful laugh, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I just forgot that – with everything – you're still just human and… I'm sorry."
Danny's mouth twitched conspicuously and Tony caught sight of that familiar crease that played on the corner of his lips, and the electric blue eyes seeming to lighten. Tony felt an intense sense of calm wash over him, a high contrast to the static tension that had filtered through the room only minutes before, and softly smiled back.
A knocking came to the door and Maria Hill's voice echoed through, "Stark? We need to talk to you. It's important," she called.
Tony whipped his head around in warning to Danny, but the ghost-boy had already disappeared.