65. Friendship is Marvel-ous
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
Avengers Mansion was a stunning piece of architecture, a red-brick Victorian style manor nestled in among the chrome and glass. While it was dwarfed by the buildings around it, its width betrayed just how much space it actually contained.
"Welcome home," Captain America said as he led Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity, and Applejack beyond its gates.
"Wow," Twilight remarked.
"It looks absolutely gorgeous!" Rarity gushed.
"Maybe you should, I dunno, wait to see what Stark Tower looks like before giving this place that much love?" Iron Man retorted.
They crossed the threshold of the door into a spacious atrium. "Out there," Captain America said, "I may be Captain America. But behind that door…" He took down his hood, revealing a short mop of golden hair. "I'm Steve Rogers."
"Well, it's nice to meet ya again, Steve," Applejack replied.
Iron Man took off his helmet, revealing his own face – more tan than Steve's, bordered with raven hair and a short mustache. "Tony Stark," he reiterated. "Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."
"And of course, Thor is my true name," Thor reminded the six Equestrians. "And the Hulk is, at the moment, just the Hulk."
"I don't need any fancy name like 'Captain America,'" the Hulk grunted. "'Hulk' is fine."
"It does get the point across," Fluttershy told him.
"Sorry to break up the party," Tony said, "but I was in the middle of something important before the whole Graviton incident, and trust me, the WORLD will thank me when I have it finished."
"What were you working on?" Rainbow Dash asked him. "Something awesome?"
"I'd go with 'revolutionary' or 'pure genius,'" Tony corrected, "though 'badass' qualifies, too." He disappeared through a side door.
"Probably another suit of armor," Steve sighed. "Ever since the Chitauri invasion, he's been a little on edge. Though far be it from the great Tony Stark to admit it. He lets off steam by building new suits of armor. Though he could also be working on arc reactor energy generation."
"Wait," Twilight interrupted. "I thought arc reactors were only a theory."
"Until a few years ago," Steve clarified, "they were. But Tony's kind of, well, special. If you tell him that it's impossible to walk on the surface of Jupiter, he'll send you pictures of himself from the planet's surface, waving at the camera, by next week." He smiled. "Everybody on the team is important, and Tony gives us a brilliant mind AND his can-do attitude."
"Does he actually use ALL the suits of armor he makes?" Rainbow Dash asked. "I mean, you can only make so many and actually have them be practical."
"Rainbow Dash," Applejack scolded, "if this is all leadin' up to you askin' for your own suit…"
"But it's AWESOME!" Rainbow Dash protested. "And I don't want one if he needs them! Just, you know, if some of them are just thrown away after he's done!"
Steve laughed. "I might just have to ask him about it. He's not much of one for sharing, but I might be able to talk him into at least thinking about it. Trust me. He's made way more of them than he actually needs. Anyway, I wanted to introduce you to the rest of the team. Are you up for it?"
"Darn tootin'!" Applejack agreed.
"I will not be able to join you," Thor informed the group. "I am already late for an engagement with Jane Foster. Graviton disrupted our plans."
"And I'm not exactly the social type," the Hulk grumbled.
"You guys go on ahead," Steve told the pair. "I'll handle this."
"I shall see you again soon, friends!" Thor promised before leaving out the front door. The Hulk, in the meantime, left through a side door without another word.
"Who's Jane Foster?" Twilight asked.
"Thor's girlfriend," Steve answered.
"Is she an Asgardian too?" Twilight inquired.
Steve shook his head. "Actually, she's a human Thor met on his first trip to this world."
"Can you imagine?" Rarity asked. "A mere mortal mare, swept off her feet by a god from another world!" She sighed.
"I can't help but notice you refer to people by horse terms," Steve commented.
"It's…kinda a thing on our world," Applejack said. "Actually, since y'all already know we ain't from this planet…back on our world, we all ARE horses. Well, ponies, technically. We just kinda turn into humans if we get close to a world where everypony's…what's that word, Twilight?"
"Humanoid," Twilight supplied.
"Right," Applejack concluded.
"I have seen stranger," Steve admitted. "Would that mean that if we went to your world, we would become ponies?"
"Probably," Twilight stated.
Pinkie Pie burst out into laughter. "PONY STARK!" she guffawed. "WE WOULD CALL HIM PONY STARK!"
Steve snorted, immediately pulling himself together and quelling his giggles. "I suppose. Anyway, do you want to meet the others?"
"Lead on!" Applejack told Steve.
In the practice arena, the small, lithe brunette clothed in black looked around him. A BEEP sounded, and he immediately turned to face the direction of the source of the noise, seeing a laser-projected bullseye marked on the wall. He reached into the quiver on his back in one swift motion, withdrew an arrow, set it to his bow, drew back, and fired. No sooner had he done this than there was another BEEP from the opposite side of the room. Without looking to see if his first arrow had met the mark – after all, he had no need to; he knew it had – he whirled to loose another arrow at the new target. At the next BEEP, he hit the ground, rolling until he was in a closer position, then fired from a position propped on one knee. BEEP. He shot to the left. BEEP. To the right. BEEP. Directly upward. BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. Three arrows loaded into the bow and loosed at three adjacent targets, all pinning the bullseyes.
Then the beeps ceased. "C'mon, J.A.R.V.I.S.!" the man whined. "I was on a roll! Would it kill you to challenge me?"
"I quit your training program because others are approaching the practice arena and more than likely wish to speak with you," a computerized voice with a British accent announced, echoing throughout the wide open room of white walls.
"Huh?" The man put down his bow, looking to the door as it opened. Steve, Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie filed in after him.
"Knew I'd find you down here!" Steve greeted.
"Practice makes perfect," the archer explained. "Or, in my case, it makes perfect better. So who're your friends? New recruits?"
"Not exactly," Steve said, "but they will be staying with us for a while. They're new to the planet, and they had a little bit of a run-in with S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Oh," the archer replied, "because every other time we've let aliens stay as houseguests, it's worked sooooooo well."
"You're obviously forgetting Thor."
"I was actually thinking about Michael Korvac."
"Trust me," Steve said. "They're on our side." He looked back to Applejack; she nodded, and he nodded in return. "This is Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie. Ladies, this is Clint Barton. Part-time S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, full time Avenger. Out in the field, we call him Hawkeye."
"How did you get THAT name?" Rarity asked.
"Here, lemme show ya," Clint replied. "J.A.R.V.I.S.? Can we initiate some sort of 'show off for the new girls' routine?"
"As you wish," the computer voice replied.
"And that's J.A.R.V.I.S.," Steve told the six women. "Tony's personal assistant. He's some kind of computer. I really don't understand how it works, but it…he…assists our team."
Several BEEPs, several targets appearing around the room in synchrony. Clint spun this way and that, letting an arrow loose at each one until every single bullseye was pegged. The arrows stayed stuck to the wall next to their brothers from the earlier session thanks to a magnetic field in each target. When he'd emptied his quiver and finished off the targets, Clint turned back to the group and bowed.
Rarity applauded. "That was FANTASTIC!" she gasped. "How do you maintain such accuracy with such little time?"
"It's a gift," Clint replied.
"I just so happen to be an archer myself," Rarity went on, "though admittedly, I'm somewhat of a novice."
"Really?" Clint asked. "Let's see whatcha got!" He moved to stand next to Steve.
"M-me?" Rarity asked. "But, as I said, I'm a novice…"
"Hey, what happens in the practice room stays in the practice room," Clint assured her. "Give it a shot."
"Well, all right." Rarity walked out into the middle of the room. "Er, J.A.R.V.I.S., if you please? Would you be able to create some targets for me?"
"As you wish," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. "Every target will be preceded with a signal beep. However, I do not comprehend how you will shoot with no bow."
"Want me to get you one from the spare equipment room?" Clint asked.
"Actually, I can suffice," Rarity told him. In a flash of light, her Eldritch bow appeared in her hands, loading itself with a crystal arrow.
"WHOA." Clint was taken aback.
"Whenever you're ready, J.A.R.V.I.S.," Rarity announced.
There was a BEEP. Rarity turned to face it, eyeing the target. After only so much deliberation, she could practically hear Phil inside her head telling her to "JUST FIRE ALREADY!" So she let the arrow go. There was a second BEEP from behind; she spun to face it, eyeing it up before shooting. One last BEEP; she fired at this one almost completely impulsively, and the arrow still hit the bullseye, though not dead center, and she pouted at this. The three crystal arrows melted into nonexistence.
"Not bad!" Clint complimented. "I mean, you're no me, but still, not bad!" He turned to Steve. "So is that her deal? Making arrows from nowhere?"
"No…that's new to me," Steve answered. "They used some sort of power of harmony to trap Graviton in Times Square. That's what drew everyone's interest to them."
"I'm sorry," Clint said, shaking his head. "I thought you said power of harmony for a minute."
"I did," Steve clarified. "I don't know how it works, but they're able to take the values of honesty, loyalty, and others and convert them into some sort of magic. I'm not sure where the bow comes from, though."
"That's actually a special case," Applejack clarified. "We sorta had a run-in with a guy from another planet who traded us extra powers like those weapons in exchange for…well, a pretty high price."
"Anyway…" Clint struggled for the name. "'Unique,' was it?"
"Rarity, actually," Rarity corrected.
"I'd say you're more than a novice. Except for the fact that if those were enemies, they would have had time to slowly walk away from you before you fired."
"Why, I never!" Rarity snapped. "I'm WORKING on it!"
"Well, feel free to use this practice space as long as you stay here," Steve offered.
"Maybe we can even practice together," Clint added. "If you don't mind me shooting circles around you."
"Oh, I WILL show you what I can REALLY do," Rarity insisted. "That was just a warm-up for me!"
"What happened to 'novice'?" Steve asked.
"She found somepony that was better than her at somethin'," Applejack replied, "and she ain't gonna let that go."
Rarity stared down Clint as she walked off the practice area. "I will be seeing YOU here, later."
"Hey," Clint laughed, "I'm game whenever you are."
"We should move on," Steve suggested.
"It was really really nice to meet you!" Pinkie Pie chirped.
"Same here," Clint said with a wave.
Steve led the six women out of the room, and Clint asked J.A.R.V.I.S, "So, are you ready to actually challenge me?"
As the tour group walked down the hall, Steve explained, "I should probably tell you about Natasha Romanoff. She goes by 'Black Widow' in the field. She's not here right now because she's not technically an Avenger. She's kind of the opposite of Clint. Clint works with us most of the time, but is still employed with S.H.I.E.L.D. and participates in their missions. Natasha is his partner at S.H.I.E.L.D. S.H.I.E.L.D. is her first loyalty, but she's a part-time Avenger. So you'll be seeing her around…eventually. But right now, I'm going to introduce you to our other resident scientist and one of our fastest fighters."
LATVERIA, 616TH EARTH
In a dark stone entry hall to a fortress at the heart of a small European nation, two men materialized.
Crouch was surprised that Osborn had thought nothing of Side-Along Apparition. As Osborn had put it, "I'm aware that anyone Loki sent would come with a dose of magic." Osborn had insisted, before the trip, on donning his old appearance. The mustache was gone, and his hair was no longer bleach-blonde. Instead, his pale, clean-shaven face was offset by neatly trimmed copper hair.
"So now what?" Crouch asked. "Do we ring a doorbell?"
"He'll know we're here," Osborn stated calmly.
A voice sounded from a hallway atop a grand staircase. Crouch heard him say, "I hope you've realized that trespassing upon Latverian ground is an act of war."
Then the robots came from every side door, each one bearing a resemblance to a well built man in heavy metallic armor. They fixed their mechanical eyes upon Osborn and Crouch, surrounding them. Crouch went for his wand, but Osborn shot him a glare. "Stay your hand," he said.
At first, Crouch thought it was another robot that emerged from the top of the stairway, but he soon realized it was a human being, a man who'd covered every inch of his body but his eyes in thick armor. A green cloak draped over his shoulders and hooded his head. He bore a rather large and intricate-looking gun in his arms, pointing it momentarily at Osborn and Crouch. Then, after a moment, he lowered the weapon. "Dismiss," he snapped. The robots retreated into the doors from which they'd come.
"Victor," Osborn greeted.
Victor von Doom descended the stairway. "I apologize for my mistake. I wasn't aware it was you."
"You don't have to apologize," Osborn told him. "After all – "
"You never do," Doom finished for him. "Now, to what do I owe this visit?"
"An opportunity," Osborn said. "You'll recall when we developed the technology that allowed S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers to track the Skrull army during what is referred to as the 'Secret Invasion.'"
Doom reached the bottom of the stairs; at Osborn's statement, he seemed taken aback, though Crouch found it hard to tell through the metal mask. "You don't mean…?"
"Loki sent me a messenger," Osborn said, nodding toward Crouch. "Bartemius Crouch Jr. Apparently, the time has come for us to utilize that incident to our advantage."
"And just as well it has," Doom replied. "I had almost thought he'd forgotten. But of course, Loki never forgets."
"You know him better than I do," Osborn posed to Doom. "It's still not clear to me why we had to wait for his signal in order to grasp the situation. We could have had S.H.I.E.L.D. in the palms of our hands long ago."
"I've come to trust Loki's judgment," Doom replied. "He always thinks two steps ahead. Likely, he's had to wait for the right time for his potential allies to be accessible, for sufficient threats to be set up in order to make our defense force more appealing to the public, and, most importantly, for himself to gain a secure position of power. I'm sure you would not have wanted him to assist us from an Asgardian prison cell, or, worse, from under Thanos' thumb."
"You seem to know a fair amount of what has happened to him recently."
"Which makes it all the more puzzling that he selected you to bring the news to me," Doom said.
Crouch detected an odd note in Doom's voice. As though he didn't truly believe his own statement. Perhaps, Crouch thought, Doom knew exactly why Loki had chosen Osborn to carry the message, and didn't want Osborn to know he knew. But again, he wasn't certain of anything Doom did or said, and so he felt it wisest not to speak up.
"Most likely, because I'm the ideal Director," Osborn supplied. "I doubt S.H.I.E.L.D. would let a Latverian take a position so high, no matter how he protected American soil."
"Perhaps that is the case," Doom concurred.
"We'd best move today if we're going to move at all," Osborn stated.
"And the others?" Doom asked.
"As long as Crouch is running Loki's errands," Osborn said, "we might as well send him to find the others Loki mentioned. After all, he's capable of traveling to areas we don't have easy access to."
"I would think a Latverian dictator would have access to anywhere he wanted to go," Crouch broke in.
"Legally, yes," Doom clarified. "Physically is another element entirely. And there is one place in particular I dare not think of going, or of sending any of my associates to. You, however, are a stranger to us. They wouldn't connect you to me unless they had the security tapes from this fortress…and they wouldn't bother with that."
Crouch had a very bad feeling about who "they" were. "Who else do I need to find for this…venture?" he asked.
"Just three more," Osborn said. "Come with us. We'll give you detailed profiles of each of them."
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
A large flat-screen television was mounted on the upper wall. Before it was a comfy-looking couch upon which two people sat. One was a man wearing a masked ensemble similar to that of Captain America, though yellow and black instead of red, white, and blue, and bearing no emblem but that of a yellow winged insect on the chest. His mask revealed only the lower half of his pale face; even his eyes were obscured by thin white mesh. He tinkered with a gun-shaped device, fitting a screwdriver to a piece as he hunched over his work.
Next to him reclined a young woman, thin and pale, with dark brown hair that flared out over her shoulders; she wore a loose pink shirt that hung off one shoulder over a pair of jeans. "You gonna stop messing with that thing and watch the show?" she asked.
"If I can figure out how to stabilize the device's effects," the man muttered in response, "we can FINALLY kiss all our enemies goodbye!"
"Suuuuuure," the woman groaned. "Because it's worked so well every other time."
"Jan, if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem."
Jan stuck her tongue out at him. "Whatever. You're missing the best part, party pooper." She returned her eyes to the screen.
Steve walked in, leading his tour group of six. "All right, everyone," he said.
"Hey!" The man in yellow looked up. "Who're the new girls?"
Steve pointed to each. "Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy. They helped us out with the Graviton incident. One thing led to another, and now we're letting them stay here." He turned back to the six Equestrians. "This is Ha…" He paused. For a moment, his gaze wavered. Then he cleared his throat. "This is Yellowjacket."
"Is that your field name or your name name?" Pinkie Pie asked.
"It's the only name I need," Yellowjacket said with a shrug.
"Yellowjacket is a strong fighter in the field," Steve explained, "but he's also a genius. He's working on a device that will allow us to instantly and nonviolently capture criminals."
"Nonviolently," Yellowjacket sighed. "There are some times I wonder if that whole concept is just overrated."
"Hank," Jan scolded.
Yellowjacket bristled at being called by that name. "Whatever," he grunted, going back to the gun device.
"Sorry," Jan said. "He's…going through some stuff." She leapt over the back of the couch, extending her right hand. "Janet van Dyne! But in the field, you can call me Wasp!"
Pinkie Pie seized Jan's hand with both of hers and pumped it enthusiastically. Jan broke out into a grin. "Nice to meet you!" Pinkie Pie chirped.
"So what are your civilian names?" Jan asked.
"We…don't have any," Twilight said. "Those are our names. I guess there's no hiding it. We came here from another world."
"Oh, cool!" Jan replied. "They're AWESOME names, by the way. And I LOVE your hair," she told Pinkie directly. Turning back to the rest, she said, "So, are we thinking a team-up?"
"Well, we fight bad guys, and you fight bad guys," Pinkie Pie explained, "so we SHOULD team up!"
"Especially because we wouldn't be on this planet if something weird wasn't about to happen to it," Twilight said.
Steve's, Jan's, and Yellowjacket's eyes turned to her quizzically. "It's a long story," Twilight explained. "Let's just say we go where we need to be. Anyway, Yellowjacket, I'm glad to hear you're coming up with nonviolent solutions."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be," Yellowjacket told her. "In the end, it's a dog eat dog world, you know? Sometimes you've just gotta drop the whole tree-hugger act and kick some butt before the world kicks yours."
Jan rolled her eyes.
"O…kay," Twilight said, unsure.
"Let's keep going," Steve suggested. "You two have fun with your show."
"I will, anyway," Jan said. "You're joining us for the new Downton Abbey tonight, right? I still can't believe Carol got us all hooked on a frilly English drama."
"Would you all like to join us?" Steve asked.
"Sure!" Applejack stated. "Why not?"
"Speaking of Carol," Steve transitioned, "I want you to meet her next. Let's go."
"See ya round!" Pinkie Pie told Jan.
"Can't wait!" Jan replied.
As Steve led the six Equestrians away, Rarity asked softly, "So, erm, far be it from me to pry in private business, but…are Yellowjacket and Jan together, so to speak?"
"Yes," Steve answered. "Sort of. It's a long story for right now, but…Yellowjacket used to be a different person when we first met him. Even back then, his relationship with Jan was weird. And now, it's even weirder. We're still sort of getting used to him. But Jan convinced us to give him a chance. And he is still just as smart as ever."
"I hope he's happy," Twilight said.
"Well, at the very least, since he came back, he's been surrounded by friends," Steve pointed out. "And I think that helps."
The blonde woman clothed in a simple white dress sat behind an administrative desk within one of the offices of the Xavier Institute. Alone, door closed, she moved some papers around, looking at schedules – training regiments, correspondence from team members, notes regarding the students. Every so often, she would pause, lingering on a paper before moving it to its proper location.
"I know what you're thinking," a male voice said from behind her.
With a start, the woman leapt to her feet, balling her fists. Her hands transformed from flesh and blood into clear, sparkling diamond.
Crouch disregarded the defensive maneuver. "Oh, I know I can't LITERALLY know what you're thinking," he clarified. "They told me Occlumency is one of your powers. If you don't want me to read your mind, I can't. But I can take a guess anyway."
"How did you get in here?" the woman seethed.
"You're asking me?" Crouch posed. "You know what it's like to have the ability to do what people think is impossible. Where I come from, the school for the gifted actually took measures so that I couldn't just drop in unannounced."
"State your business," the woman growled.
"To speak with you, Emma Frost."
Frost's fists unclenched slightly in surprised. "How do you know my – "
"Hear me out first. Like I said, I know what you're thinking. The best road of action for you was to join Xavier's team. Assist the X-Men. Try and make peace between humans and mutants that way. But it isn't working, is it? Not for you. There's a small part of you in there somewhere that says you made the wrong choice. That what you REALLY want is to do things the way Erik – Magneto – did things. To show the humans where they stand: below the mutants."
Frost raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think all that?"
"Besides what I've been told about you?" Crouch replied. "I'm the same way. Where I come from, there's a rift between those of us who have rightful power and those of us who were meant to stand below those with power. I'm like a mutant, in a way. But I think the term you and I would both use for me is…'wizard.'"
"That would explain some things," Frost stated. "Show me something else. Something harmless."
Crouch drew his wand. Without speaking the word "Lumos," merely thinking it, he lit the end of it. He waved it back and forth, then doused the light.
"Fair enough," Frost conceded. "What does any of this have to do with me?"
"What if I told you that you could leave this all behind and stand up for your mutant brothers and sisters the way you REALLY want to?"
"Magneto and I are not on speaking terms," Frost seethed. "Right now, he isn't on speaking terms with anybody."
"So I've been informed," Crouch said. "But what if someone else could offer you the same opportunity? What then?"
"Who else?"
"I was told to give you this." Crouch withdrew from within his robes a large, glossy envelope embossed with the green emblem of a hammer; fittingly, the letters "H.A.M.M.E.R." were also displayed across the top. As Frost tentatively took the envelope, removing the papers within, Crouch contined: "Osborn, Doom, and Loki see promise in you. And after hearing about you, so do I. Ever since Magneto became little more than a human, you've been the next best thing for the mutant population."
Frost scanned the paper with her eyes. An outline of intent; signatures from Norman Osborn and Victor von Doom. Of course, Loki hadn't added his own hand to the paper, but she could smell his influence on the premise.
She stuffed the papers back into the envelope. "Doom is good enough," she said, "but how can I trust Loki not to exploit us for himself…and how can I trust the Green Goblin himself?"
"I was told to pass on a message that the Green Goblin was…how did he put it? 'A thing of the past,'" Crouch answered. "As for Loki, I think you're just going to trust that what he wants for himself involves you getting what you want."
Frost flashed Crouch a coy half smile. "You're very persuasive."
"Have you made a decision, Frost? As much as I'd love to threaten you by telling you that we could replace you with just any old mutant activist…we both know that isn't true."
Frost stole a glance at the door to her office. Thinking momentarily about the Xavier Institute and all she'd done for it ever since Magneto had fallen and she had been offered the opportunity to switch sides. Thinking about the mutants she'd let down. The youth that walked the halls. The X-Men that relied on her.
But the more she thought about it, the more she was surprised at how much she wasn't reluctant to let it all fall by the wayside. She didn't feel as though she truly belonged at the Xavier Institute. And it wasn't the first time she'd heard talk of H.A.M.M.E.R…Osborn had spoken to her in whispers in the past, but she'd thought it something that never would come to fruition.
She turned back to Crouch, smoothing back her hair. "I accept your proposition," she said with a grin.
"Come with me?" Crouch offered his hand. She clasped it with her own, tightly.
The pair vanished, Crouch taking Frost to Latveria to speak with Osborn and Doom.
Steve led Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Twilight through the forum on his way to the next location just as someone else was crossing the threshold of the mansion. "I really think," Steve began, "you're going to get along well with…" He halted, beholding the man who'd just walked in. "T'CHALLA?"
The new entrant wore a suit of jet black, his entire face covered with a mask shaped to resemble the face of a panther. This was ornamented with a flowing black cape bearing a high collar. "Yes, Steve Rogers," T'Challa said.
"Who's he?" Pinkie Pie asked.
"He's…not supposed to be here," Steve fumbled. "T'Challa, I thought you said Wakanda needed you."
"Although I hate to leave Wakanda in any time of need," T'Challa said, "as of now, its relationships with surrounding nations are stable. The military is well funded. The economy thrives. While I do not think this state of peace will last forever, I do see it as an opportunity to rejoin the Avengers. After all, if Wakanda does not need my help as much as it usually does, there is a strong chance America needs my assistance instead." He paused. "Not to mention that I did not want to pass up on the opportunity to rejoin old friends. Though I see that you have some new friends as well."
"Yeah!" Steve asserted. "T'Challa, this is Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, and Twilight Sparkle. They helped us out with an incident recently, and actually, Twilight brought us a message that we're probably going to be needing your help pretty soon." He turned to the six women. "I can't even BEGIN to tell you how much T'Challa has given to the Avengers. In the field, we call him Black Panther."
"It is pleasant to make your acquaintance," T'Challa said, reaching up to remove his mask. His face was quite dark, with piercing eyes, hair cut short. "I hope I was not interrupting."
"We were literally just doing introductions," Steve informed T'Challa. "Your timing was actually kinda perfect."
"Well, I am glad." T'Challa smiled at the six Equestrians. "I hope we can speak more later. I have to see to settling back into the mansion."
"Your room is the same as when you left it," Steve told T'Challa.
"Good to see you!" Pinkie Pie chirped.
T'Challa headed upstairs, and Steve explained, "T'Challa is the king of the African nation of Wakanda."
"He's a KING?" Twilight screamed. "And you didn't tell us that FIRST?"
"Hey, when you're one of the Avengers, sometimes you kind of forget that one of us is a king, one of us is a god, and one of us – who you haven't met yet – is an android," Steve explained. "You kind of just become…one of the team. And when he's Black Panther? He's a genius. He can think up things that even Tony, Bruce, and Yellowjacket miss. He's also one of our best fighters. I'm only slightly exaggerating when I say he could have taken Graviton on his own and won."
"Wow," Twilight commented.
"Anyway, let's keep moving," Steve suggested. "It's really funny to think about, actually, how many differences you forget when you've been friends for so long. I bet most of the others have stopped thinking of me as a guy that was frozen in time for half a century."
The group moved on in silence for fifteen seconds before Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie, Rainbow Dash, Twilight, and Fluttershy cried out in unison, "Wait, WHAT?"
ATLANTIS, 616TH EARTH
The great city towered over the ocean floor, its spires and walls tinted blue in the light that filtered through the watery depths. Within its heart, the king sat upon his throne, green and gold trident in hand. His skin was tanned to a shade of light gold, shown on his humanoid torso from the waist up. From the waist down, two legs were covered in shining green scales. The man's short hair was dark and sleek.
He provided a striking contrast to his subjects. One of his guards, bearing blue skin and altogether more fishlike features, hurried into the throne room. "A human requests audience with you, your majesty," he said.
"Show him in," the king commanded.
Three more guards brought Crouch into the throne room. Crouch, head encased in a bubble that supplied him air through a handy charm, looked around at the walls, the vaulted ceiling, comparing it to the Asgardian throne room. On that subject, he began to speak: "You're a lot easier to get an audience with than the king of Asgard."
"You will NOT refer to our king with such impudence!" a guard barked.
"My apologies," Crouch said, smirking. "Your majesty, Namor."
The king Namor regarded Crouch with an eye of interest. "Why have you, a human, come to these depths?" he asked. "And by what manner of magic are you breathing?"
"Just magic, plain and simple," Crouch answered. "And I'm here with a message. Do you trust me enough to speak to me alone? I'd rather this not get out among…riffraff." He eyed each of the guards with contempt.
"Give me a reason to speak with you alone," Namor prompted.
"I'll give you three," Crouch said. He pronounced each word with deliberation: "Osborn. Doom. H.A.M.M.E.R."
Namor was taken aback. "…Leave us," he commanded his guards.
"But your majesty!" one commanded.
"Go!" Namor ordered. "No harm shall come to me." He gripped the shaft of the trident tightly.
"Yes…yes, your majesty," said the guard. All of them retreated, leaving Crouch and Namor alone in the throne room. Dejá vu, Crouch thought, remembering Loki. Though there had been far less water then.
When the door to the throne room shut, Namor said, "Victor von Doom had contacted me with talk of H.A.M.M.E.R. before. He stated his intent to form a Cabal with me and other people of powerful stations. For the good of Atlantis, the good of the mutant nation, the good of the Asgardians…" He paused. "The good of the demons. I assume that is what you have come to tell me."
"I would have brought the envelope," Crouch said, "but it got wet."
"I had thought Doom was only dreaming," Namor went on. "I did not know, either, if I could trust him. But now his words have come back to me in the form of you. But there is one thing you did not mention. Something Doom told me, and if you do not know it, then this is an elaborate ruse." Namor leaned forward. "Who else spurred you to carry the message, and why didn't you say the name of that person?"
"I thought it was best NOT to bring up Loki when the entire multiverse is supposed to think he's dead at the moment," Crouch answered.
Namor closed his eyes and nodded. "Then you do know the truth. Has the time finally come?"
"If you want Atlantis to get what it deserves," Crouch said, "and the humans to know their place, you'll know where to meet us."
"That I will," Namor said. "Tell Norman Osborn, Victor von Doom, Loki, and any others they may have recruited that I will meet them at the proper time and place. For the time for Atlantis has finally come."
"I'll let them know," Crouch promised. "Oh, and by the way, if you back out now…they'll all make sure you regret it."
"I do not intend to back down."
"Good."
Crouch walked out of the Atlantean palace, satisfied. He knew Namor knew exactly where the group was planning to gather. That just left the matter of the other candidate Osborn and Doom had mentioned.
Right on cue, a voice sounded from Crouch's left, muffled underwater: "You're doing very well. But I sense you're having a little trouble figuring out how to get to that last one, aren't you?"
Crouch turned to see Discord, in full draconequus form, treading the water, wearing a scuba mask over his eyes and an inflatable duck ring around what passed for his waist. "After all," Discord said, "if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had a way to just pop in and out of the Underworld whenever he liked, well, that would have changed the whole game! As it stands, you could just go back and tell Osborn and Doom there was no way for you to get there, and they'd scrounge up some common thug to sit on the last seat of their Cabal. But neither you nor I really want that, do we?"
"What are you saying?" Crouch asked.
"I'm saying that I have business in the place you're going anyway," Discord clarified. "I just so happen to want to have a little chat with the one who runs the operation. I figure that if you and I are headed for the same place, I might as well take you, since, let's face it, you're not getting anywhere NEAR the gates without my help. Oh, and that's funny…that last person you're looking for? Kept under STRICT lock and key by…why, the very being I wanted to have words with! It seems to me that while we're having our conversation, a mortal wizard could just slip right by him unnoticed and find who he's looking for!"
"I get your point!" Crouch spat. "You distract the…prince of darkness, as it is, and I sneak past him to get my target!"
"Very good," Discord replied. "Of course, you'll need this." He held out a large key, almost as large as Crouch's palm. It was wrought of black metal, the shaft twisted, the teeth of uneven lengths, and the handle a convoluted mess of metalworking.
"You happen to have a key to the exact cell?" Crouch questioned.
"Actually, this key is made of my power, made physical and solidified," Discord explained. "It's just a drop in the bucket, for me. But for you, that's a key that can open ANY lock. No matter how big, how small, or how cosmic. And before you go running around toying with every lock you find, that key is a one-time use deal. Pick one lock. Use the key. It disappears. I can't have my powers floating around willy-nilly in the hands of mortals, after all."
Crouch pocketed the key. "Understood. Let's go."
"ROAD TRIP!" Discord cried before snapping his fingers, and he and Crouch vanished.
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
The blonde woman, hair flowing past her shoulders, wearing a simple red shirt and black pants, sat before a computer terminal, taking in the data upon it intently. She didn't even notice, at first, when the seven entered the room.
"Carol?" Steve knocked softly on the door. "Is this a bad time?"
Carol shook her head, turning away from the screen to face Steve, Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash. "No, I was just looking over this data Mar-Vell sent me from what was left of the Kree central intelligence before we took it out of commission. I just think it's best at this point to know more about the Kree rather than less. I'm sorry…who are your new friends?"
Steve ran through the names of the six one more time, quickly explaining their assistance in the Graviton incident. "This is Carol Danvers," he told the six Equestrians. "Known in the field as Ms. Marvel. She's kind of an expert on the Kree race of extraterrestrials."
"Well…I'm working on it," Carol corrected. "So you six took on one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most wanted?"
"With a little help from Steve, Tony, Thor, and the Hulk," Applejack admitted.
"I thought Graviton was under maximum security imprisonment," Carol thought out loud.
"He was," Steve confirmed.
"So how did he get out?" Carol asked.
The six Equestrians nervously looked at each other. "Uh…I think I might have an idea about how that mighta happened," Applejack said. "Remember how we said that we get dropped off on worlds that need us? We've also got a couple of enemies that tend to follow us. And wherever they show up, they either try to make the most chaos they can or the most evil they can."
"Maleficent OR Discord could have broken Graviton out of any prison," Twilight stated.
"Loki was the one who broke him out the first time," Carol pointed out.
"Loki's dead," Steve pointed out. "We can rule him right out."
Carol didn't seem too sure of that, but she held her tongue. "Well, welcome to Avengers Mansion," she greeted. "You're going to watch Downton Abbey with us tonight, right?"
"Watch what?" Rarity asked.
"A drama set in England at the turn of the century," Carol answered. "Trust me, you think it's going to be boring, but after one episode, you're hooked. I know you're behind, but we can catch you up."
"You're going to have to catch T'Challa up too," Steve informed Carol. "He came back today."
"What?" Carol was first stunned, then pleased. "Well, it'll be good to have him back with us."
"We should keep moving," Steve suggested. "Especially since you're in the middle of work. We'll leave you alone."
As Steve led the six Equestrians out of the room, Rarity remarked, "We'd love to join you, but first, someone's going to have to explain to us 'turn-of-the-century England'…"
"But that can wait," Applejack interrupted. "This got me thinkin'. Steve, if we stay with ya, our enemies might become your enemies. An' I don't want anypony gettin' hurt because of it."
"You might be safer if we leave," Twilight agreed.
"WHAT?" Pinkie Pie cried. "But…but we just got here and met everypony!"
Steve shook his head. "Don't even think that way. We've faced a LOT of powerful enemies. Everything from the trickster god Loki to the entire Kree army."
"But Maleficent and Discord are…special," Twilight explained.
"They've been known to turn up on multiple worlds," Rarity added.
"Maleficent has more dark power than anypony we've ever met!" Rainbow Dash asserted.
"And Discord…he's only trying to have fun, really," Fluttershy told Steve, "but his idea of fun is very destructive. He can change things about reality."
"And that's the thing," Twilight said. "Both of them have brought people back from the dead before to serve their plans. Meaning even your enemy Loki might not be as dead as you think."
Steve smiled. "Dark powers? Changing reality? Bringing old enemies back from the dead? Trust me. We've seen it all before. But if it's really that much worse with those two…well, we hate to back down from a challenge. ESPECIALLY Tony." He winked. "There's nothing to worry about, really. Now, there's just one more Avenger left in the mansion for you to meet."
MEPHISTO'S REALM, TARTARUS, THE UNDERWORLD
Mephisto's corner of Hell – or Tartarus, or whatever one chooses to call it – was exactly as Crouch had always heard the place of punishment should be. Cavernous rock walls of glowing red and copper. Rivers of lava. Copper-colored walls rising to form various structures.
Discord took Crouch as far as the gate of the largest building: Mephisto's palace. "When we go in," Discord told Crouch, "you head left right away. Mephisto will come out to meet me, and I'll hold his attention elsewhere. Then you can do what you need to do. If you're lucky, the very one you came to find will take you back to the mortal world with him. If you're unlucky, he goes back alone, and I'm just going to leave you here because picturing your reaction to being trapped here forever amuses me. Got it?"
Crouch nodded, gritting his teeth.
"But have fun with it!" Discord grinned madly before throwing open the gates.
Crouch ran into the great hall of Mephisto's palace and ducked to the left immediately, heading down a shadowy hallway. Discord strode directly into the center of the hall alone. "Ohhh, MEPHIIIII-STOOOOO!" he called out; his voice echoing through every hall.
Discord then waited. He heard the slow, deliberate steps as the devil approached the entryway. When Mephisto appeared, Discord beheld his preferred visage: that of an elderly man with pale skin and wispy gray hair, clothed in robes of black leather. "You don't have to yell," he told Discord.
"But the echo is fun," Discord protested with a pout.
"I'll admit this is somewhat of a…surprising reunion," Mephisto told Discord. "I didn't expect ever to see you again."
"Oh, you should know by now, Mephisto. It's impossible to get rid of me. Isn't that wonderful?"
"By your definition…" Mephisto sighed.
"As a matter of fact," Discord went on, "I'm gathering a rather large crowd of those of us who used to reign over chaos. Mirage and the Titans are already on board. And that means good news for you: your years of torment are…OVER!"
Mephisto waited for Discord to say something else; a punchline, perhaps. When none came, he broke out into a grin. "Torment, Discord? Is that what you think is going on here?"
"Well, for your victims, definitely," Discord admitted, "but I just KNOW you aren't too happy at having to follow Hades' rules about coming up with punishments for the ones that the courts find guilty. You can't REALLY like working for the man, can you?"
"You'd be surprised, Discord."
Discord underwent a double take. "You mean you WEREN'T biding your time until I showed up to break you out of the system?"
"It's a long story, Discord."
"The kind of story best told over a glass of wine?"
"Like the old days. I'll go for that."
Crouch slipped further and further down the hallway, which sloped downward, leading under the ground. Eventually, he saw the doors. Large, imposing doors of iron with only small squares, five by five inches and cut through with bars, to offer sight into each room beyond. Crouch only had to glance at the first few to see the selection of Mephisto's prisoners with whom he had the most personal grudges, those who went beyond mere sinners. If there was so much as movement beyond the door, Crouch knew it was the wrong one. He was looking for someone who would be held in the tightest confinement possible.
When he didn't see anyone moving, he peered into the squares that showed the cells beyond. He saw all manner of prisoners, from the horrified to the horrifying, but none of them matched the profile he'd been given by Osborn and Doom.
When he came upon the last door, he knew. The last door had no square to offer a view inside. It was the largest door, with a great X scratched out over it. Perhaps to warn all who came upon it that it was to be stayed away from. There was no handle; only a lock. Crouch shivered momentarily at the sight of it, then removed the twisted key from his pocket. He fitted it to this door's lock. There was a click; the key popped into a shower of confetti with a sound like a party favor going toot. Crouch shook his head at Discord's sense of humor before pushing the door open.
The cell within was spacious but austere, carved of solid rock. It probably was hollowed out of the very walls of Mephisto's Realm. There was no furniture of any sort except the metal pinions that held the chains firmly to the ground. The chains crossed over the prisoner in the center of the room like a spiderweb, wrapping around him several times for good measure. The prisoner lay on the floor in these chains; a pentacle had been inscribed on the floor below him, in a circle large enough to contain the prisoner's body. The pentacle emitted a light that passed through the prisoner's body, appearing as though the glowing pentacle itself was overlaid upon him, holding him down.
And then there was the prisoner himself. He appeared to be a young man. His skin was white as eggshell; his hair was black as moonless night, cut short but for slight sideburns. His thick eyebrows were also dark. The color of his eyes was hidden, for his eyelids were shut tight, and an expression of repose was washed over his face – he slept. Like a fairy tale princess, Crouch thought, though he was about as far from the concept as you could get. Crouch could see between the chains that the youth was dressed in black robes.
He'd been instructed exactly what to say. "Wake up, Blackheart," Crouch commanded.
Blackheart's eyes flew open, revealing dark pupils. His mouth, formerly in the neutral position of sleep, twisted into a smile. He stared straight upward, at the ceiling.
"H.A.M.M.E.R. wants you," Crouch said. "Would you happen to know anything about that?"
"Loki," Blackheart stated, his smile growing wider. His voice echoed in such a way that it seemed as though two people, not one, had spoken. "I was wondering when he'd get around to it. I take it you're his messenger boy."
"Yes," Crouch said, frustrated, "though the draconequus only did give me one key. No one told me about the chains. I'm guessing this is his idea of a joke."
"The chains aren't as big of a problem as they seem," Blackheart told Crouch, still staring directly upward. "They're just here to keep up appearances until I could get the door out of my way."
He writhed; one by one, each chain snapped, falling to the floor with a loud clank. Blackheart stood; his body passed through the pentacle's light, and there was a sizzling sound, but it seemed to have no effect on him. "My father tends to underestimate me," he said, finally on his feet. He made eye contact with Crouch.
Crouch was simultaneously repulsed and entranced. Looking into the young demon's eyes was like staring at fear itself, but at the same time, they were beautiful in a way Crouch couldn't have described. As frightening as eye contact was, Crouch couldn't bring himself to look away.
"What were you serving a sentence for, anyway?" he asked.
"Nothing much," Blackheart replied. "Just the sins of six hundred souls. But I've had enough time to move past it." He paused. "Oh…you meant what I did that made dear old Dad put me under lock and key. Nothing more than a little betrayal, that's all."
"Betray Loki," Crouch warned, "and he'll do worse."
Blackheart laughed so loudly Crouch feared Mephisto would hear and come storming into the dungeons to see what was going on. "I'm not afraid of Loki," Blackheart stated when he finally quieted his laughter. "But as long as he follows his agenda, he's the last person I'm going to betray. After all, there would be no better way to show my father what REAL power looks like."
"I'm sensing you hate your father. I was never too keen on mine, myself."
"And Loki makes three," Blackheart finished. "Shall we leave? You have to be getting as sick of these walls as I am."
"That would be a good idea."
"We have to be outside the palace in order for me to take us out to the mortal plane," Blackheart informed Crouch. "How exactly did you get past my father to get in?"
"I think he's going to be distracted for a while," Crouch replied.
And while Blackheart and Crouch made their way out of the dungeons, out of the palace, and out of the very realm of the undead, a small table was set on a balcony of black stone that protruded outside a tower of the palace over an ocean of lava. Mephisto and Discord sat at opposite ends of the table. Mephisto swirled a glass of red wine. Discord's own glass was sitting upside down, though whenever he lifted it to take a drink, the wine didn't spill out of its container.
"Don't you miss it?" Discord asked. "Back when you and yours were devils and the angels were angels, before you got sorted into this whole 'good afterlife' and 'bad afterlife' business where you had…DUTIES?" Discord made a choking sound to emphasize his contempt.
"I work under Hades," Mephisto explained, "because I want to be here."
"You're kidding."
"With Hades' system, I can contract mortals from any plane. I have a say in what's done with the damned. And the angels stay on their side and don't breathe down my neck. I'm living in luxury, Discord. I can have anything I want."
"Except, oh, I don't know, freedom…"
"I have that, Discord. What Hades doesn't realize is that the set of rules he gave me for Tartarus is exactly what I want to do. I don't have any need to break away for the sake of breaking away. In the old days, I didn't have mortals under my control. I didn't have contracts. I didn't have souls for my own use."
Discord sighed. "Well, then, it looks like when we rebuild the Age of Chaos, we're going to have to leave the mortals running around for you to play with."
"What makes you think you can actually succeed in rebuilding the Age of Chaos?" Mephisto inquired. "Just because you have a few allies on your side."
"Well, let's see…" Discord mulled it over. "I want it…so I'm going to get it."
"Do you even have a plan?"
"Of course I have a plan, Mephisto. I don't just charge into things without a plan. If I'd have known you were going to be a fuddy-duddy about it, I would have gone to a different devil first." He thought it over. "Is Cherny still where I think he – "
"Yes."
"How about Infernal?"
"Still at large," Mephisto said, "though the less business I do with him, the better, and I'm NOT looking forward to the day when the two of you reunite."
"Oh, come on. You know we livened things up."
"Either one of you on your own is bad enough."
"Mephisto." Discord pouted. "Do you really hate me that much?"
"No," Mephisto admitted. "I'm at a point where I can't bring myself to hate what you stand for. But you also know how I feel about the unpredictable."
"So you're in."
"I never said that."
"So you're out?"
"I never said that either."
"If you're going to try and get me to sign a contract," Discord stated, "it won't work."
"No contract you sign is ever binding anyway," Mephisto countered.
"So what do I have to do for you to take me seriously?"
"Start by drinking your wine right side up."
Discord rolled his eyes, turning the glass over. "There. Happy?"
"It's a start." Mephisto grinned. "To tell you the truth, so long as you can let me have what I want along with what you want…I'll go along with your plan. But all this…this realm you see around you…" Mephisto looked up and around; Discord's gaze followed. "I get to keep this."
"I have a mansion I'm rather attached to myself," Discord replied. "We can attach both of them to the old hangout."
"On the condition that the sinners are still mine, and the ones who sell their soul to me are still mine. I don't have to have anything in the Underworld…but I want what's TRULY mine."
"You know the Underworld as it stands has to go, then."
"It was obvious, Discord."
"Then it's a deal," Discord said. "You help me bring back the old days and the old ways, and I'll let you keep everyone you have under your thumb…AND give you the opportunity to collect more. Mortals, mortals, everywhere. Sound fair?"
"Perfectly."
NEW YORK CITY, 616TH EARTH
In the kitchen, an android who looked the spitting image of a male human scrubbed a dish over the sink. His synthetic skin was a deep red color; his clothing was a green and yellow suit that left his face bared, a billowing yellow cape with a high collar fastened at his neck. He neatly lay the plate on a pile to the left of the sink and then plucked another dirty dish from the right.
Steve, Applejack, Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, Pinkie, and Rainbow Dash entered the kitchen. "There you are!" Steve laughed. "Took me a while to figure out where you were. What are you doing?"
"I am contributing to the efficiency of the Avengers Mansion by taking on menial tasks so that others may focus on tasks of more importance, such as executing criminal justice," the android said.
"Well…thanks," Steve replied. He turned to the six Equestrians. "This is Vision. Civilian name AND field name. Our newest Avenger."
Without turning away from the dishes, Vision explained, "I am an android formerly created to serve the artificial intelligence known as Ultron. However, Ultron's perception of humanity was flawed. His objective was to eliminate humanity based on its imperfections. I believe that imperfection in humanity is not only necessary but good. The Avengers allowed me to be a part of their team, and we have formed a bond."
"Long story short," Steve reiterated, "Vision worked for one of our toughest enemies, but now he's a friend."
Vision turned to see Steve's guests. "Who are these newcomers?" Vision asked, curiosity in his tone.
Steve ran through the six names one more time, explaining what had happened with Graviton.
"I must thank you for your contribution to this team, especially against the powers of Graviton," Vision said with an earnest smile. "I hope your stay here is pleasant."
"Thank you, Vision," Fluttershy replied.
"Well, now you've met everybody," Steve said. "Wanna see your rooms?"
As Steve and the six Equestrians moved toward the hallway with the guest bedrooms, Steve explained, "Because we've worked with so many people, we have rooms ready in case any of our allies need to stay here. One of the guest rooms is just reserved for Natasha, but the rest of them are fair game for anyone. We have more than six open." He began to open doors, revealing spacious bedrooms with wooden dressers and beds covered in fluffy white bedding. "Take your pick!"
"This is all real nice, Steve," Applejack said. "I'm gonna ask you one more time: y'all SURE this ain't no imposition?"
"Not one bit," Steve replied. "I'll wait for you to decide on rooms. After that, we can head down to dinner. I'll tell you…with T'Challa back and you as our guests, it's going to be a fun crowd tonight!"
Director Nick Fury, a tall, dark-skinned man with his left eye patched and his body clothed in a formal blue uniform, paced the main room of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, watching his various agents type away at the computer screens that lined the area.
"It does NOT make sense," he barked. "We had Graviton under maximum security. There were no breaches. The only way he could have escaped is if he just teleported out!"
"Impossible, of course," Hill added.
"Maybe," Fury said. "Or maybe not." He turned to face all the other agents at work. "I'm going to need all files on ANYTHING we've observed that has that kind of power!"
There were a few moments of silence. Then a solitary voice: "Director Fury, I think I have a match."
Fury approached the agent who had spoken. Agent Daisy Johnson, codename Quake, dark hair cropped short, wearing a red jumpsuit. She had loaded a profile onto her screen, showing a picture of a certain being as well as several statistics S.H.I.E.L.D. had collected about him. "Impossible Man," she said. "Resident of the planet Poppup. Has visited Earth on several occasions, causing phenomena that defy physics and reality. Able to manipulate matter, shapeshift, and transport people from one location to another by means of teleportation." Johnson looked up at Fury. "There's no real pattern to his visits. Documentation suggests he visits our planet for…entertainment."
"Good work, Agent Johnson," Fury replied. "Which leaves us with this question: WHY would Impossible Man want to break out Graviton?"
"For his own amusement?" Johnson suggested.
"You think the destruction of Times Square was some kind of JOKE?"
"I don't," Johnson asserted. "But he would."
The doors to the main room opened; a rather awestruck-looking young man, dark of skin and hair, clothed in a standard blue S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform, entered. "Director Fury…" he began, but was unable to continue.
"WHAT is it, Agent Wilson?" Fury barked. "PLEASE tell me you came here for some other reason than to waste my time!"
"You're not gonna believe this, Director Fury," Sam Wilson said shakily. "A dead guy just boarded the helicarrier with the Latverian dictator."
"A dead man?" Fury repeated. "Agent Wilson, I order you to start making sense – "
Fury's own speech left him when Osborn walked into the room, Doom close behind. "I wouldn't be too hard on him," Osborn told Fury. "After all, I did put on a convincing performance."
"Norman Osborn," Fury said softly. Then, in a louder tone, "Well, to Agent Wilson's credit, you are listed as legally deceased. You'd better have a good reason for that."
"After the Green Goblin fiasco, I needed time and space to myself," Osborn explained. "After all, escaping the temptation of globulin green isn't easy. I cut myself off from the entire world to remove the pressure. As of today, I can safely say I'm clean. The globulin and the Goblin are things of the past. But now that I can appear in public again, there's a matter that Dr. Doom and I have an urgent need to discuss with S.H.I.E.L.D."
Fury nodded. As stained as their records were, both men had such high positions of power that they were allowed past certain levels of S.H.I.E.L.D. clearance, which was to say both were allowed on the helicarrier. Fury owed a lot to both of them, and he knew it. "Well, make it quick," Fury said.
"I'm afraid it isn't a matter that can be discussed quickly," Doom pointed out. "It concerns the very leadership structure of S.H.I.E.L.D."
A hush fell over the room. All eyes were on Doom. Osborn quickly drew attention to himself: "During the incident in which the Skrull army invaded Earth and compromised S.H.I.E.L.D., which I believe you refer to as the 'Secret Invasion,' you, Director Fury, stepped down and left S.H.I.E.L.D. in the care of Agent Hill. Not only was your organization infiltrated by militant Skrull, but you never produced a successful countermeasure. Dr. Doom and I were aware of the Skrull invasion due to the discovery of some of our own replaced by Skrulls. Key Latverian civilians and some of my employees." This was a lie. Both had been compromised by Skrulls, it was true, but Osborn had been tipped off to the Skrulls' existence by Doom, and Doom had been tipped off by Loki. "We came together to develop a technology that could track Skrulls and reveal who was human and who was not. Doom delivered this tracker to Tony Stark, and he in turn delivered it to you. It was because of that that the Secret Invasion was thwarted." That part was true, and Fury knew it as well as Osborn.
"It has not escaped the two of us that we performed S.H.I.E.L.D.'s duty in the world's time of need when S.H.I.E.L.D. itself failed to do so," Doom picked up. "As a Latverian, I have no right to dictate America's agencies. But in this circumstance, I believe that Mr. Osborn's actions, along with his American citizenship, qualify him for Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."
There was one gasp: Johnson. She quickly ducked her head to avoid attention.
"And does Mr. Osborn also think he deserves to be Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. more than I do?" Fury asked condescendingly.
"As a matter of fact," Osborn said, "yes."
"A known terrorist," Fury reiterated, "and a man who used to go by 'Big Man of Crime,' laying a claim to MY position. Is this some kind of goddamn joke?"
"As I said," Osborn, "the Green Goblin is in my past."
"You're expecting me to buy that the globulin was one hundred percent responsible for your mental state as well as your physical?" Fury retorted.
"It dulled my comprehension and logic abilities," Osborn retaliated. Lies, of course. Goblin was Osborn's creation, not the globulin's.
"With all due respect, Director Fury," Hill interrupted, "we do owe the victory of the Secret Invasion to Mr. Osborn." She paused. "And Dr. Doom."
Agents began to whisper to one another.
"They protected our world," Hill went on. "They basically saved us all. Without Osborn, we wouldn't HAVE a S.H.I.E.L.D."
The whispering intensified. Fury bristled. "So what are you suggesting?" he snapped.
"Simply that we settle this the democratic way," Osborn replied. "We put it to a vote."
"The man who protected America in its hour of need with his brilliant mind and quick thinking," Doom posed, "or the runaway who advocates for anti-mutant prejudice and deception of the public. It's S.H.I.E.L.D.'s choice."
The Avengers team and the six Equestrians moved as one from the dining room to the television room. They chattered with each other as they began to pull furniture from all over the room to face the television.
"So basically," Jan told Pinkie Pie, "I decided to put the fun back into fighting crime."
"ANYTHING can be made into fun!" Pinkie Pie agreed.
"We tend to think of such things as commonplace in Asgard," Thor told Twilight. "But I suppose you are right. My control over weather is indeed magic."
"I'm a little jealous," Twilight admitted, "but then again, you are a god."
"Well, what I was really wondering," Rainbow Dash asked Tony, "is…can I see some of the suits?"
"So long as you promise to look and not touch," Tony replied. "My workspace is down the third hall to the right of…"
"Pardon my askin'," Applejack inquired of Steve, "but when ya woke up from that ice…was it cold?"
"Oh, believe me," Steve laughed, "I was freezing!"
"My REAL talent lies in fashion," Rarity informed Clint. "In fact, I've thought of a few designs I'd like to put together here for our next mission out."
"Good," said Clint. "Then you can tell everyone else that purple isn't stupid or sissy."
"I still think you should stick to black!" Yellowjacket jeered at Clint.
"Oh, don't listen to him, darling," Rarity reassured Clint. "Yellow is a striking color, but purple! Why, it's the color of royalty! It suggests elegance!"
Fluttershy and the Hulk were the first to sit, on the couch in the very center of the room. They waited there in silence as the conversations went on around them, content just to listen. Then Fluttershy's sense of obligation caught up to her, and she cleared her throat. "Um…excuse me, Mr. Hulk?"
"What do you want?" the Hulk growled.
"I just wanted to thank you for letting us stay," Fluttershy said sincerely.
"Hmph." After a pause, the Hulk finally replied, "You're welcome."
"Okay, two minutes!" Jan yelled, and the furniture was all shoved into place. Everyone took a seat, either on the floor or on furniture, except for Vision, who stood behind the couch as if standing at attention for an investigation.
As the show began, Carol started trying to catch all the newcomers up. "So there are basically two sets of characters," she said. "The upper class family and the servants. Last episode, the upper class family's youngest daughter ran away with the chauffeur…"
"I'm not following a word of this," Rainbow Dash muttered under her breath so Carol couldn't hear.
T'Challa, who was seated to Rainbow Dash's left, leaned in to whisper to her, "Nor am I." The pair exchanged a short glance, a slight smile of amusement, before tuning out Carol's long-winded exposition.
After the show ended, those watching the room left in a trickle. First Steve, wanting to "call it an early night." Then Twilight for the guest rooms, wanting to catch up on her sleep as well. The others watched what followed – several episodes of detective shows – until they tired. Tony got bored with it and made his way to his room, doubling back when he thought no one was working to reach his workspace. Applejack realized she was quite drowsy and left as well.
Soon it was only Jan, Fluttershy, and the Hulk sharing the central couch, watching a troubled detective try and piece together clues. Fluttershy wondered if she could piece together the solution before the character, but the more she thought about it, the more her thoughts became hazy, and her eyelids drooped. She dropped off to sleep right between Jan and the Hulk, right there on the couch.
Fury stood before the entire population of the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, looking over them all with his good eye, knowing he had to deliver the truth.
"You all cast your votes," he said. "They were tallied. And you almost unanimously voted for my replacement with Norman Osborn."
Osborn, standing slightly to the side of Fury, nodded. Even through the armor, the various agents could tell Doom was pleased as well.
"Then it's my obligation," Fury concluded, "to step down as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." He practically hissed the next words: "So everybody welcome Director Norman Osborn."
He then literally stepped down – away from the front of the room. Osborn took his place. One agent began to clap. Then the entire room was filled with applause, from all but six people: Fury and the five who'd voted for him.
As Fury passed Hill, he noted her quiet applause. "Agent Hill?"
"My apologies, Director Fury," Hill said, "but he was there for us when you fell short."
"I understand," Fury snapped before storming out of the room, through the doors, down the hall.
"DIRECTOR FURY!" a female voice cried out from behind him. Fury turned to see four people standing some ways behind him, in front of the closed door. Between Wilson and Johnson were two women. One, the one who'd spoken, was blonde and pale, clothed in a pale blue leotard striped with white, baring her legs but covering her arms in long, sweeping sleeves. A black mask covered her eyes. Bobbi Morse, codename: Mockingbird. The other was a redhead woman wearing a tight black jumpsuit. Natasha Romanoff.
"For what it's worth, Director Fury," Morse said plaintively, "we all voted for you."
"Osborn has no place here," Natasha seethed.
"Your sympathy doesn't mean a DAMN thing," Fury replied. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has spoken, and if you think this isn't fair, you're forgetting what our mission was in the first place. We protect the homeland. Osborn did, and I failed. So you're going to put on a smile and address Mr. Osborn as Director. From here on out, I am AGENT Fury, understand?"
"But Director – " Natasha attempted.
"AGENT!" Fury snapped before turning on his heel and storming away.
That left Johnson, Wilson, Morse, and Natasha standing in isolation in the hall. After a moment, Natasha said, "I'm going to the Avengers."
"You have to," Wilson agreed. "WE have to."
"And we're bringing him," Natasha decided.
"Wait," Johnson said sternly. "We were ordered directly not to let the Avengers know of his existence."
"By Director Fury," Natasha pointed out. "Who just told us that he's not the Director anymore. And I doubt Director Osborn knows the protocol surrounding that particular issue. If anyone can talk Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in particular into paying attention to this…it's him."
"Then let's go!" Wilson insisted.
"I think Morse, Wilson, and I should stay here so Osborn doesn't suspect anything," Johnson suggested. "If everyone who he gets the feeling disagrees with him disappears at the same time…"
"But…" Wilson protested.
"But what?" Natasha asked.
"But…I've always wanted to meet the Avengers in person," Wilson said softly. "Kinda silly, I know, but…"
"Well, ONE more missing agent won't make as big of a difference, I guess," Natasha relented.
"You mean it?" Wilson beamed.
"You and I leave tomorrow," Natasha told him. "With him."
"We have to tell him," Morse pointed out.
The four agents turned to make their way back to the main room, to find the fifth person who had voted to keep Fury in the lead, and to inform him of their intentions.
Fluttershy awoke with a start. The room was dark but for the television, which was still playing a detective show, from the looks of it. Fluttershy wondered what time it was and how long she'd been asleep on the couch.
Looking to her right, she was startled. Beside her sat a man she hadn't seen before. His skin was pale; his hair dark and slightly curly. He wore nothing but a pair of baggy purple pants, which seemed familiar, though Fluttershy's groggy instincts couldn't tell her why.
"Oh…you're awake," the man said with an awkward smile. "I didn't want to bother you, so I let you sleep." He turned his eyes toward the television. "I always did like the mysteries. I used to dream about being a detective myself, once."
"What time is it?" Fluttershy asked.
"Just midnight," the stranger said. "It's not that late, especially considering that Tony's probably still awake."
"Pardon me," Fluttershy then asked, "but who are you? I don't think we met."
"Well…we sort of did," the man said. He put out his right hand, and Fluttershy grasped it tentatively. As they shook hands, the man said, "I'm Dr. Bruce Banner. You met…well…the other guy that lives in here." He let go of Fluttershy's hand to point to his head. "You know. The…green one."
"Oh!" Fluttershy realized.
"We have sort of a trade-off arrangement for living in the mansion," Banner went on. "He lets me out more often when we're not on a mission. He likes you, you know. You don't…well, 'intimidate' isn't the word. He doesn't think you're as judgmental, I guess."
"Does he think my friends are judgmental?" Fluttershy asked with concern.
"He's kind of a pessimist about that," Banner explained. "I'm trying to explain to him that none of your friends are afraid of him."
"If I can ask," Fluttershy went on, "what do you think? About us staying here, I mean."
"It's kind of funny," Banner said with a slight laugh. "A while ago, I would have been, well, uncomfortable having this many people around. But now, I think it'll be good to have more company. The six of you already get along great with the team."
"I hear you're really smart," Fluttershy told Banner. "So is Twilight. You should talk to her."
"I'll be around more often," Banner confirmed with a nod. "I do better when things are calmer. The other guy comes out more often when there's more of a…situation. I'd like to be able to talk to Twilight about what she studies. Magic, right?"
"Right," Fluttershy confirmed. "She treats it like a science."
"That would turn Tony and Thor on their heads," Banner pointed out. "Anyway, you're probably tired. You should head up to your room for the night."
"What about you?" Fluttershy asked.
"This is the first time I've been out today since Graviton," Banner told her. "I'm going to stay up to finish one more episode."
"Can I finish it with you?" Fluttershy asked.
Banner smiled. "Sure."
Across the many screens of his great switchboard, Impossible Man looked over the footage. Rarity and Clint competing. Crouch calling out Osborn. Pinkie Pie greeting Jan and Yellowjacket. Osborn and Doom conversing. T'Challa entering the threshold of Avengers Mansion. Crouch and Frost joining hands. Twilight expressing doubts to Carol. Namor speaking to Crouch in private. Vision scrubbing plates. Blackheart snapping his chains. The Avengers and Equestrians at dinner. Osborn taking the Director's position.
It was all perfect, too perfect, he thought, as he cut it together into a montage of scenes. He couldn't help but laugh, long and loud.
Within the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier, there was a conference room tucked out of the way, with a round table. All the lights in the room had been turned off but for one, that hung directly above the table, illuminating it. Seven chairs were arranged around the table; six were occupied.
Crouch thought the lighting was ridiculous. It could only have been done for dramatic effect. Then again, several of the people at the table had a flair for the dramatic.
Crouch himself occupied one seat. He looked around at the other occupants: Director Norman Osborn. Victor von Doom. Emma Frost. Namor. Blackheart. Their expressions ranged from content (Frost) to concerned (Namor) to apparently incredibly entertained (Blackheart). But all were silent. They were waiting for the seventh seat to be filled.
A rush of darkness erupted in one corner of the room – a portal. Out of it strode the one they'd waited for. In all his finery, carrying his spear, Loki approached the table, sitting in the empty seat.
"I hereby call to order," he said, almost laughing, "the first meeting of the H.A.M.M.E.R. Cabal."
Chapter 65
· This is one of the few chapters where, again, I knew what the title was going to be before I started writing it.
· You can probably tell that my Hawkeye is distinctly AEMH as opposed to MCU. That one's more fun. Actually, the rest of the Avengers team I introduce here, I filled in from AEMH. I'm a little sad that they won't be including Black Panther (apparently) in the MCU and also afraid they'll screw up Wasp, because I love both of them a LOT.
· Using Doombots is complicated because I read that they're supposed to be EXACT doubles of Doom, but it would have ruined the scene if Osborn and Crouch couldn't tell who the real Doom was.
· Yellowjacket is taken from the unresolved storyline from S2 of AEMH and will be the version I'm using for Hank Pym. He refuses to go by that name, BTW, because of how he claimed "Hank Pym is dead" in-series. And you know when I find an unresolved thread, I have to resolve it…
· The version of Emma Frost I'm using is based on X-Men First Class, but as of now, we don't know where she ended up during the present timeline. This is probably going to become AU as of Days of Future Past, but GAvillain let me know that in this timeline, by comic canon, she'd be co-leading the X-Men with Cyclops. But of course Cyclops is dead by the film canon (yes, I'm counting X3 as canon whether you like it or not…but this doesn't mean that any of those deaths are permanent, as Marvel never keeps them permanent anyway). And Magneto is no longer an option because he'd been stripped of his mutant powers by the end of X3 (like I'm going to keep THAT state forever either). Basically, I had to kind of come up with some stuff on the fly based on that.
· When I wrote the scene between Frost and Crouch, I realized how much chemistry they had. And I intended to ship it. But then dialogue between Crouch and Namor got weird, and then Crouch ended up thinking Blackheart's eyes were pretty. So I guess right now, I ship Crouch with everyone in Cabal.
· As of AEMH and the comic book canon (I look this stuff up when I need to), T'Challa/Panther is in Wakanda a lot carrying out royal duty. I wanted to definitely confirm that he'd be with the Avengers this time around and that Wakanda was okay without him present for the time being. Also, it bugs me that he doesn't have a last name.
· The only Namor experience I have is from Fantastic Four: World's Greatest Heroes. Just so you know.
· So you now know I'm doing an abridged version of Dark Reign. And you've noticed I not only added Barty Crouch for crossover goodness, but I replaced Hood with Blackheart outright. This is for two reasons. One is that I have no experience with Hood. The other is that I really love Blackheart. I read that Cabal was chosen because most of the members had ties to a certain population – Loki to Asgardians, Frost to mutants, Namor to Atlanteans. Hood's connection was to the criminal underworld. I find it more fitting that Osborn and Loki would want someone connected to the ACTUAL Underworld. I added the throwaway line from Discord about "If I wasn't here" to kind of say that yes, without the crossover interference, they would have picked up Hood instead…but I'm also making the implication, which I'm sure isn't canon, that Cabal would have wanted Blackheart instead of Hood in the first place and couldn't get him.
· My versions of Blackheart and Mephisto are STRICTLY the ones from the live action Ghost Rider film. Because those versions are great. I can't take any other version of either of them seriously. And I love Wes Bentley.
· The idea of chaining Blackheart to the floor on a pentacle comes from the "Marvel Ultimate Alliance" game, which also showed me how to basically design Mephisto's Realm (though I do make his palace more of a complete building here).
· Obviously this is post-film; I didn't want Blackheart to be bogged down in unnecessary PTSD, so, given that he's a demon with a strong constitution, I kind of just said he "got over" the Penance Stare of all the sinners within him when he was Legion. And honestly, I think for him, it would be easy to get over. Not for any human being, but for a son of a devil? Yes.
· What to take away from Discord and Mephisto's conversation: there is more than one Devil. Devils and angels in their purest form are actually Old Ones; the Heaven/Hell thing was something the Underworld structure made up. Yes, I realize I am giving Hades a CRAPTON of power here. (Also, wanna guess what happened to "Cherny" or who "Infernal" is? Your first guess on each count is probably right.)
· The mental imagery of Vision doing the dishes just came into my head and was too amusing to not do.
· I realize I shifted power in S.H.I.E.L.D. INCREDIBLY quickly. I didn't know how else to move the story along.
· I can't believe I actually wrote feels for Nick Fury. I HATE Nick Fury. I also once hated Maria Hill, and she came off being just as much of a bitch as I used to perceive her, so that's nice.
· I picked Downton Abbey for the heroes' bonding activity for a couple reasons. The image of Fluttershy waking up on the couch next to Banner was one that had been in my head for a while, so I had to set up for it. I also know that Downton Abbey exists as fiction in the Marvel universe because of IM3. And, to boot, I'm a Downton addict myself.
· The five people who voted for Fury as Director are incidentally the five S.H.I.E.L.D. agents outside of Fury and Hill whose names I actually know. No, I don't watch "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D."…I don't really feel like investing my time in a series about one of my least favorite fictional organizations without having the regular superhero and villain roster there to balance it out. Maybe someday, though. And if/when that day comes, I can name you more agents.
· I know Quake and Mockingbird from AEMH and Sam Wilson from Avengers Assemble. Make of that last one what you will…