The hatch behind him sealed, cutting him off effectively from the outside world. Through the glass of the cockpit, the bright daylight shimmered through the leaves of the trees, the canopy sheltering the quinjet from above. Steve seated himself at the side console, tapping his fingers at the keyboard and checking that the stealth panels were still in place. That accomplished, after a mental walk-through (Tony had insisted on teaching him slow and easy, the tone he'd taken earning him a sock in the shoulder as he did so from an unamused captain), he opened up a channel to establish contact with the Tower. The reception out there wasn't the best, but it would do for the time being. Following the prompts to find the correct outlet, he took a few deep breath as he waited for the call to be answered.
The blankness of the screen disappeared after a few more seconds, the display filling with light. The living area of his quarters came into view, the glass walls letting in the natural light. His eyes were greeted by the sight he wanted to see most: his fiancée. Disheveled, clothes thrown on haphazardly and her face deeply exhausted, but it was his fiancée nonetheless.
"Holly," he said, relief flooding through his chest to see her there, having arrived safe and unharmed. In turn, she gave him a tired smile, her red-rimmed eyes showing pleasure at seeing him. Guilt hit him again, even harder than before.
"Steven," she murmured, her fingers actually reach out to touch the screen on her end. Something in her throat caught, and she had to cough to clear it away. "I'm...I'm so glad to see that you're, well...okay."
He shrugged at that, gazing at her for a few long moments. "More or less."
It was an answer he'd given her often enough when he'd returned from missions, but this was one of the few times where he felt he fell into the lesser end of the statement. Something in his expression must have given that away, as her face creased with concern. Looking at the shadows under her eyes, the pallor of her skin, he could see for himself that she had not fared better.
His eyebrows drew together, worry lacing his voice. "And you? Are you okay?"
"At the moment?" she replied, a snort coming out before she could stop it. Lifting a shoulder, she sighed. "I guess so."
Silence cropped up then, in which the pair simply looked at one another. Her fingers went to the ever-present chain at her neck, fiddling with the dog tags that were hanging at the end of it. A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed painfully as she grinned ruefully at him again.
"It's good to see you," she said, the latent longing she'd fought to keep at bay surfacing right then. His heart thumped harder at hearing it, knowing how much he reciprocated. A flash of memory, her face racked in pain, life falling away from her, hit him squarely and he squeezed his eyes shut. Guilt, shame, rose up and he did not bother to beat it down. Inhaling sharply, his blue eyes latched onto her brown ones, his elbows resting on the console as he leaned forward.
"I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry that...I guess I'm just sorry." He let his head droop, a sarcastic snort of derision at himself coming out. "For a lot of things."
Glancing up, he noticed that although she nodded in commiseration, she had nothing to say to that. His eyebrow inclined as she continued to keep her mouth shut.
"Are you waiting for me to list them?" he inquired then, tipping a palm out at her. Her head slanted to the right, and her attempt at a humorous quirk of the lips was not lost on him, but it wasn't very strong.
"You could start with the crosshatch on my head, if not for calling sooner," she supplied soon enough, pointing at the stitches, and she tried to chuckle a little. "Because that one is totally on you, Coffee Table Flipper."
When he did nothing but wince and look away, she realized that perhaps making light of the situation was not called for at that instant. Sighing deeply, she curled her arms around herself, chewing her bottom lip for a moment.
"But it's not like you're the only guilty party here. And it's...this has been just..."
There was a lot unsaid in the pause that followed, but it did not merit an explanation. Steve knew what she was feeling, was feeling it to a stronger degree himself. It was hard to deal with, but it had to be done.
"I know," he told her, the weight of his words keeping her attention. "Everything has been changing, good and bad."
"A lot of bad. Some of it out of our control," she remarked, eyebrows inclining pointedly. He nodded to that.
"Some of them hard choices to make, no matter what the circumstances," he responded, sitting up straighter in his seat. Swallowing again, Steve found his gumption, and went on. "I...I've been forced to think, consider everything. Priorities...have changed, and I've got to change with them."
The truth was sinking in, hard, permeating throughout his person as he finally made the admission. Holly appeared to be holding her breath for a few moments, and Steve, deep down, knew she was waiting for the other shoe to drop. But when he did not say anything else, she let it out slowly.
"We both do. For better or worse, right?" Her partial grin was punctuated by the lifting of her left hand, her thumb tapping the inside of her claddagh. Steve smirked, inclining his head as the expression melted away.
"It could get a lot worse before it gets better."
She nodded again, but did not let her dark gaze waver from his. "I know. But no matter what, I'm not going anywhere. I mean that, Steve."
The emphasis of her words, the guilelessness of her eyes, impacted him, and he let them do so.
"Me, too," he confessed shortly after, shaking his head. "We've got work to do when this is all over."
If everything turned out right, if Ultron was defeated...the future banked on the ifs. But he did not intend to let the possibility of it to be taken away from them. It would be a when, to him. Holly shot him a dismal look, but did not comment on his choice of words. Rather, she just snorted again, cutting her eyes away and pressing a finger to her temple.
"I'm well aware of that. I'm willing to do it..." she murmured, trailing off as she noticed Steve's expression turning sour, his jaw working as he thought. Considering it, she could not help herself. "It was really bad over there, wasn't it?"
The emotions on his face warred for precedence, all disconcerting. Despair coupled with sadness, muted rage and confusion joining together and chasing one another inside him, and it reflected outward. It was strong enough to make her gasp softly.
"Oh, baby," she breathed, the whispered endearment cracking something inside him. God, he wanted her with him so badly, wanted her close and in his arms. Hesitantly, she broached the subject again. "Can...can you talk about it?"
A common question between them, one that often was met with a negative, but this time, he didn't want that. Sighing, he muttered, "A little. If you've got time to spare."
"For you, always," she said, moving off to drag a chair over to place it in front of the display. The slowness of her movements, the lines of her face, became more pronounced as she did so, and the flutters came back to his stomach. However, she undercut his concerns with a snicker and a mumble. "Nerfherder."
Undeterred, he rolled his eyes, gesturing to the screen as she sat down. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours, Princess."
xXxXxXx
The cavern echoed, the water of the pool rippling as trickles of water dripped from the roof. Erik Selvig felt a chill run up his spine as he followed after Thor into the enclosed space, and he could not attribute it to the cool temperature inside. The water was no innocent pool, but a reflecting pool. A way to communicate to the creatures of old, connecting to each of the Nine Realms. The god had informed him of such when he'd arrived in London mere hours ago, taking the doctor from his planned evening of grading and prepping the next day's lecture. While Selvig was more than willing to assist the god in his venture, even when it promised danger, it did not sit well with him.
Much more was at stake than the necessity of finding answers. It was a dream that had driven the god on, at the hand of an Enhanced being. Reviewing the course of events over the last day, he left Erik with much to think about as he went to the shops in the city, gathering the necessary supplies while the god waited for him to return. The reports of what happened in Johannesburg did not tell much of what happened to the other members of the Avengers, merely that the Hulk had gone on a rampage. This...this was a strange twist of events. While the doctor did not put much stock into dreams, he knew better than to question his friend. Thor knew much of things that he, Selvig, understood little. And what was shown to the bigger fellow had given him cause for fear. But he did not let that fear stop him; he took a sip out of the flask he kept in his pocket, fortification against the scariness that awaited them.
The pool, if it chose to accept Thor, would use his life's essence as the needed sacrifice. Though the god had lived long and well, the beings he would have to trade with could not be content with a small offering. If they wished, they could take the lot and be done with it. Which was why he needed Selvig in the first place; he trusted the man to come with him, to ask the right questions, and if everything went wrong, he could be the one to forward what was learned onto the others. Knowing this, Erik felt the pit of of his stomach twist, and his fingers shook a little as he lit candles, placing them along the floor. This was out of his depth, something he often felt when Thor came into the picture. Certainly, the stories of the gods of old were the stuff of his childhood, but to have what he'd thought was nonsense in his adult days confirmed as true (more or less; human interpretation skewed much of it, the god had told him once) was still jarring, even now. He knew the legends of the pool, knew that men who went in seldom came out, but he still had no earthly idea of what was going on.
Thor shed his shirt, taking a deep breath as he waded into the shallows. Careful steps brought him to the center of the pool, the water waist high and shimmering in the low candlelight. Poised, he waited there, Erik's flashlight shifting in his hand as he pointed it at the god. Watching closely, Thor dipped his entire body into the water, resurfacing quickly, his back stiffening and his eyes widening. A pale bolt skimmed his sides, his arms, lightning coming from his fingertips and electrifying the water. He writhed and groaned, and Erik felt his heart leap into his throat. If he had to, he would brave the waters himself, pull Thor out, but just as he shucked his jacket and prepared to go into the pool, a screech made him jerk back.
"Fool," a voice crowed from the god's mouth, not his own. It was split into several tones, as though more had chosen to speak through him. All of them were too high-pitched, too...feminine. The eyes that turned to look at the doctor were clouded, white film masking the blue irises and haunting him. Fumbling with his flashlight, Selvig crouched at the pool's edge, holding it out. "All of you, fools."
It spoke in a tongue that was unfamiliar to the astrophysicist, spitting at him foully. Summoning his courage, the older man did not turn away. He had been tasked to remain on watch, to retrieve the god from the pool if things went awry.
Inside the god's mind, he was in the pool with the creature, female in form. Her skin was gray as the mists in the morning, her eyes black as night. Robes were twisted about her body, and behind her stood two others, identical in appearance but different in expression. Each one had laid their palms upon her shoulders, connecting to one another fluidly as she reached for him. She sat upon a rock at the edge of the water, her hand tangled into the long strands of his hair, fingers digging into his scalp. The Norns, the women of old, creatures of Jotun who were the holders of past, present, and what could be. The weavers of destiny.
"Odinson," they spoke in unison, a wrenching pain searing him. "You have come to us in need, and in fear. Not for yourself, but for others. What do you wish?"
Wincing and groaning at the grip on his head, Thor forced himself to still, forced himself to look upon the Three with humility.
"The truth. I wish to see the truth of my dream, and what it means." Attempting to bow his head, he let his eyes fall upon the seated Norn's feet, trailing through the water lazily. "I offer my years of life to you for your aid."
A pregnant pause followed his words, but he did not look upon them again. Beats of silence passed in which he could only hear the thumping of his heart in his ear, the breath leaving and returning to his body. As one, they exhaled, the pressure upon his head decreasing for a moment.
"...We accept," they murmured to him, and before he had time to say another word, whether it would be in gratitude or not, the Norn on the rock gripped his skull in both hands, lightning coursing between them and the water. A heady cry tore from his lips, the water splashing as he jerked around, the intensity overwhelming him.
The flashes of the golden hall returned, the carvings of the All-Father and the figure of Heimdall standing before him. The fire of the torches shining upon the dancers, the twining hands of revelers at a banquet he did not belong at. Heimdall approached again, palms laid about his shoulders and shaking him. He was commanded to wake up, to open his eyes and to see what would be wrought. Bolts of electricity shot up, thunder rolling as his vision blurred and focused. The passing images revealed to him made him gasp. Stones, gems broken from scepters, rocks, torn from red mists and from the Tesseract flew by, impact upon the world shattering as the mechanical voice promising extinction came back. His friends' faces flew by, Stark's smirk turning into Captain Rogers' smile, Barton and Natasha passing a friendly look as the doctor looked on. Jane looked on him, the promise of her eyes fading with each passing second as the Norns' shouts could be heard in the growing blackness.
"The six...the infinite six...he holds the Mind Stone," they chanted, keeping him awake as he felt the weakness flooding his form. "Within it lies the power to destroy one of the Nine. Know your task, Odinson, and heed the warning."
Suddenly he was submerged, the pressure upon him relieved as he struggled to kick to the surface. Fingers wrapped around his wrist, hauling him up slowly. Breaking up, he gasped, groping the water's edge and allowing Selvig to help him out of the pool. Sitting at the water's edge, swiping the long strands of blond hair out of his face, he felt rained. Years of his life were taken from him, but not all. It was not yet his time to depart from the universe, and the Norns knew that. They had taken their pay, and left him with his duty. A duty he would see come right.
xXxXxXx
Though perhaps the world wasn't truly brighter after she'd talked with Steve, Holly at least felt better for it happening. Even if he didn't expound on the hellish nightmare that the female twin had forced him to endure, she got the gist of him seeing something unspeakable. It made her ill, seeing that flash of fear in his eyes as he mentally recounted it, no word of it escaping his lips. She didn't push him on revealing it, feeling that if she forced it, he would never tell her, and so she let it be. Instead, they changed the subject and spoke about what happened on her end. She summed up her job loss as succinctly as possible, minimizing her issues as much as possible (because, to her mind, the grand scheme of things weren't affected by it), but Steve did express outrage on her behalf, and she was comforted to know that he still had her back an supported her even in something like that. They also went over the other events in South Africa, the suffering the team was going through at the moment. She told him about the public backlash; while people were definitely upset over the events, and Doctor Banner's future was hanging in the balance, opinion was that there had to be an important reason for it all, and further speculation about a new terrorist threat or another alien invasion cropped up as a result. More and more were popping up every hour, and she had been deputized by Maria to monitor it, as long as she wished to stomach the task.
The sadistic automaton knew what he was on about. The trouble was, what exactly was his aim wasn't evident. Making off with vibranium was a big part of the plan, but for what purpose? To that, Steve had no answers, and Holly certainly had no earthly idea, either. And the possibilities scared her; Ultron was promising destruction, on a global scale. The form it would take was still up in the air, and it frightened her to think about it, frightened her to know that the person she loved most was willingly meeting him headlong.
Pressing the heels of her hands over her eyes, she exhaled sharply. After taking a much needed break (and catching up on her sleep that afternoon), she was back at it with Maria. They were situated in one of the public offices upstairs, a long table running down the center of the room, their separate work divided on either side. Keeping an eye on the circling hashtags, posts, news reports, and the like, Holy had taken to printing them off for filing at a later date. The sun was setting, the glow of low light dancing along the glass walls. A chirping noise on Maria's tablet pierced the air, and without thinking she swiped it open. As a familiar voice called out and a dark face filled the screen, Holly's head jerked up in recognition. Furrowing her brow at her companion's reaction, Maria was cut off from explaining or leaving the room by the caller.
"Hill, it's Fury."
"Sir..." she hesitated, watching color flood into Holly's face and scooting her chair back. "I'm not alone here."
Holly sprang up, moving around the table into frame to stare at the older man. Eye patch, stern expression, and looking like a walking advertisement for Black Coats, Limited? Yep, it was the ex-director of SHIELD, all right. She hadn't seen or heard from the fellow since January, since he arranged a meeting with her to show her the lay of the land, from his side. Staring down at him, at his unamused look, she could see that this was not part of the plan. Gaping openly, she shuffled on her feet, not sure whether to leave the room or stay. A sharp snort pulled her train of thought up short.
"Holly Martin." Nick Fury shook his head, leaning back into what appeared to be an airplane seat. Not much else could be seen from their vantage point, but it could be assumed he was at least on a private charter; there was no way he would do public transport nowadays, not with being officially declared dead. Sizing her up, he tipped a hand at her. "You should've called. I did give you that phone number for a reason."
Confused for a moment, the younger woman felt the blood drain from her face when she remembered. Months ago, when he'd unwittingly predicted things getting tough, he'd given Holly a telephone number, the starkness of the card it was etched into striking her mind. It was programmed into her phone the same day, but when it came down to it, she had not thought to use it. Reflexively, her palm felt over her jeans pocket, even though her phone was at the other end of the table.
Taking advantage of her silence, he simply indicated for her to go about her business as usual. To Hill, he began to hash out plans. The team would be leaving shortly, their heads cleared enough to finally go after the demented automaton. Walking as lightly as she dared, Holly eavesdropped, but from the way Maria was half-glaring at her over the tablet's edge, she knew she wasn't getting away with anything. Still, she was not shooed away, like she would have in another situation, most likely. It turned out that Thor was still missing, Stark was headed to the Nexus in Oslo (Holly made a mental note to look that up just to know what that meant) and the others would be heading out to track down their lead. Unfortunately, it seemed that Helen Cho had not been heard from in some time, from anybody, and given her brilliance, it would seem that the robot had designs upon her. Something about the need to evolve...Holly wasn't quite sure about it all, but she knew that both of the ex-spies were tempering their language in front of her. Groaning inwardly, she decided to pick up a few more pages from the printer, passing behind Maria just as Fury chose to speak again.
"With any luck, they'll stop it before everything gets too out of control."
At that, Holly frowned, an act over which she had no control. Something about the way the pronouncement came out made her curious, and so she began to think hard about Fury's words. Unfortunately, said man spotted the downturn, raised an eyebrow at it.
"Do you have something to say, Miss Martin?"
Caught out, pink tinged her cheeks as she stumbled to speak. "Just...what comes after?"
Most of the missions the Avengers had gone on were outside the realm of the civilian population. With the exception of the D.C. raid last October, their targets had been either in deserted areas or far away from cities. She was wondering how, with the circumstances being so altered, they would all handle the aftermath of the last three days. And to that, Nick simply stared at her, his face betraying nothing.
"After comes after."
"What? You have no contingency plans for this?" she gasped, brow furrowing. These individuals, these agents...weren't they supposed to have an outline for every outcome? This was her first real glimpse into the behind-the-scenes work for the Avengers, and they had nothing to go on. It seemed implausible. "For the people who have been affected?"
The sardonic look Fury shot her spoke volumes, though he did voice his concerns as well. "Currently, we're a bit more worried about whether we'll all actually survive this. If we do, then we do what we can, and attempt relocation as needed."
Maybe it was the lack of adequate sleep that drove Holly on, or maybe it was a concussive after-effect of the collision with the coffee table. Maybe it was the high level of stress leaking its way into her life, touching her in a way that could not be ignored, or maybe it was the fact that she was too prone to opening her mouth at the wrong moments. Most likely, it was a combination of all of those things. And perhaps it was compiled by the urging in the back of her head, the little voice telling her what a load of crap that idea was. In any case, she could not keep herself silent, as Fury's words dug under her skin.
"That's not enough. Homes and businesses have already been lost, without a word being said on the issue. And if Ultron is brought down, all you can do for the potentially affected is catch 'em and dump 'em when the job's done?" She scoffed out loud, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's kinda bullshit."
The ex-director let a notable pause hover between them, the outward manifestation of his displeasure at her exclamation. That, and the magnificent stink eye he was able to give her. "Miss Martin..."
Immediately her hands flew up, her brain catching up with her words in that moment and screaming at her for being far too blunt with him. She'd had every intention of showing respect when he came on the line, but she couldn't help herself from spewing forth the honesty of her mind. She wouldn't backtrack, but she could change her tone to something a little less hostile.
"Look, I'm not claiming to be a genius or a tactician or whatever. I'm just an average Joe here. I mean, look at me, for God's sake," she said as calmly as possible, flicking a few fingers towards her person. The eyes to her left and on the screen examined her critically, basically affirming her statement without saying anything. Taking that into account, she drew in another deep breath, taking a chance. "Just hear me out on this: ignorance and denial only goes so far. There needs to be a plan for afterward, no matter which way the endgame goes. The team is still very popular, yes, but that can't last forever, not when they aren't reaching out after battles to do damage control. The tag 'em, bag 'em, and run routine? It's pissing people off; I get told this daily. Well, I would be still if I hadn't super-blocked my social media, but before that happened...holy balls."
Memories flooded back, things and slurs cast at her over the last few months, just for being associated with one member of the Avengers. As she's said, for the most part, the team was still looked upon with favor, but not everyone felt that way about them, and they would tell the person with the easiest accessibility their grievances. Granted, it was mostly people who had clearly not been involved directly in any of the major events involving the Avengers, but they did like to share their opinions regardless. And while Holly did support the team wholeheartedly, she could not deny that there were foundations for some of the anger out there. It bothered her deeply, another worry to add to the growing list in her mind. Perhaps that could change now.
Maria cast a curious glance at her as she grabbed the chair beside her, sitting down and further ingratiating herself into the conversation. "On your social media, huh?"
Holly's deadpan glance back was not missed, nor was her snort of derision.
"And in the grocery store check-out line, walking to the mail box..." she trailed off, shaking her head and clearing her throat. "Anyway, back to the point. New York recovered alright, but that's because that had literally never happened before."
Maria nodded, conceding the point. "And D.C. did absorb most of the damage due to it being a case of corruption of power."
"But Johannesburg...and future places?" Holly's eyebrows rose, punctuating her words. "It's not going to cut it. There needs to be more from the team than an 'oops, destroyed your city, here's a Band-Aid and an apology.'"
Fury inclined his head, letting out a slow sigh. "That's why the Stark Relief Foundation exists. And that, Miss Martin—"
"It's not enough," Holly repeated, warming to her theme now that she knew she wouldn't be entirely disregarded. At least, not to her face. "The team needs to be part of the rebuilding process, show the world they get the consequences of their actions. Even the unpredictable ones. If they actively tried, even a little, it would go a long way, right?"
The older man settled back in his seat, the leather creaking as he did so. "That's true. But we personally don't have the manpower or the materials to do more than what we can."
To her left, Maria held up a thumb and forefinger, rubbing them together in the universal sign for money. She grimaced at that, unable to deny the world-altering power of the dollar. However, she breathed hard through her nose and looked back at Fury, the steadiness of his features belying the glint in his eyes.
"You know people who do, though," she murmured softly. It was mostly a guess, but she figured as prominent a figure as he'd been over the last twenty years—more likely thirty—he'd have made connections with all sorts of people. People who could help. The corner of his eye twitched, and he exhaled again.
"I do, which is why..."
This was the opportunity, an opportunity that she couldn't let slip by, one that could do some real good in the real world. Something that would help, a tangible sign that this giant universe she was part of could be touched, even by her words. Holly had no desire to be an agent, an Avenger, or anything, but she didn't want to just sit by and let things spiral out of control if she could do something about it. She couldn't control her life at the moment, but maybe she could prevent someone else from losing that control, in the smallest way. Even if all she could do was speak, then she would speak.
"You should start using those connections, the others outside of Stark Industries. Investing in the world's foremost tactical team outside of any army, gaining a foothold in foreign countries that would be beholden to them after the relief efforts went down...they'd be helping rebuild economies." The pleading in her voice was apparent, and perhaps it made her sound desperate to their ears, but she kept going on, nearly blabbering as she rambled. "I know lives won't be the deciding factor, but you get in a good legal team, too, because Tony has to know a few, and if they have the chance to turn it into a viable venture—"
"We have considered this, Miss Martin. Extensively," Fury spoke over her, halting her diatribe and finally getting a word in edgewise. "Which is why Hill has been compiling a list of nonprofits and government support from around the globe since she started working for Stark. Off the books."
The revelation hit her with the intensity of being struck with a sack of potatoes, and her jaw dropped. Later on, she would admit that it made sense; Maria was the team liaison, and had a personal stake and interest in the Avengers' well-being. But given the magnitude of how much she was managing behind their backs in that pursuit, it was still stunning to learn about.
For her part, Maria just smirked and rolled her eyes. "What, you thought I was just around to fetch coffee and put up with Stark's ridiculousness?"
Finding her tongue (and feeling utterly absurd about putting so much of herself on the line when it wasn't actually needed) Holly meekly shook her head. "...Oh. No, no, of course not."
The ex-director of SHIELD shrugged one shoulder to that, and sat forward again. "But it hasn't been a main focus."
"It should be. It needs to be, for all our sakes," the younger woman told him quietly, fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt beneath the table's edge. "One wrong move, and it could all be over. You piss off the right people, then it opens up a newer, bigger fight. And frankly, they can't afford to be fighting with the world."
That was a little too true for comfort, and it showed on all their faces as they considered the notion.
"We're aware," Fury intoned, stating the obvious. "With the shift in gears, though, this is the perfect opportunity for some strings to get pulled."
"It'll also help that you're reversing your declaration of death, sir," Maria pointed out, another surprise dropped on the single civilian in the room. Watching her out the corner of her eye, the assistant went on, "Seriously, a word from a live Nick Fury goes a long way."
Holly swallowed, a dry snicker flying out. "I bet."
"However, the people we reach out to are going to expect something in return."
The hard line in Holly's forehead sprang up as she thought about his words. "Like what, advertisement?"
"Power and control, Miss Martin, over the world's leading specialist group," he retorted flatly. "Most companies want more power and control over entities than anything else, and you're wanting to put the team at their mercy."
A hot flush spread over her face; she didn't want that at all.
"Stark already technically owns them as it is; they're going to have to cooperate with him and the others if they want any stake in this, right? Even if it means they don't hold rights over the group themselves."
"Not everybody jumps on charity. And not everybody will be willing to put up with it."
"Maybe not, but it makes them look like a bag of...garbage," she replied, replacing her chosen phrase with something less graphic. "Not exactly good for PR, no matter how you slice it. And there's no way to avoid that other stuff? No way to not surrender to the whims of a company?" Not for nothing, but she knew why the team retained autonomous control over themselves, why they were privately funded and operated. On Steve's part, at least, she understood his lack of trust outside his team and his friends, and her. It was, as Maria mentioned, a corruption of power that led to SHIELD's demise, and if another agency tried to get its claws into the Avengers to dictate their actions, without the best of intentions, it would rankle. At worst, it would destroy the team, if not the world itself. Her gut twisted as she thought about it. "What about being granted something overarching like...a form of diplomatic immunity, but like as a...not an army, but a world-sanctioned police force? Something's gotta work."
It was most likely an incredibly naïve idea, but it might be doable, in her eyes. Holly would be the first to admit that she had a very low understanding of politics and law, but those very things were altered day in and day out. With the appearances of enhanced beings, it could change again. And could it not be changed to their benefit, instead of the benefit of others? If the team gave, the world should be able to give back, in theory. That was her reasoning. If they showed trust in the people, the people should be able to trust them in turn.
"The world has changed, and...everything can't remain the same as it was," she nearly whispered, gaze focusing on a point on the far wall. Truer words, she thought to herself. One day, she was an assistant manager at a bookstore, the next she was talking policy and planning with a master spy and colonel, with the intention of backing up what was essentially a team of superheroes. Life was complicated enough when she was merely dating one of them; actively participating in that world in this way was...mind-blowing.
In all honesty, she was thinking she preferred the days when Clint threw her down onto the mat and laughed at the angle she'd landed, and then afterward Steve would hand her an ice pack and a glass of wine while she bitched about it. All in good humor, of course.
Maria took a long, hard look at her, before allowing her blank face to crack into a partial smirk. Turning to the screen, she asked lightly, "Yes, sir, what about it?"
Curiously, the other woman's attention latched back onto her, hearing the lead in the tone, but not quite sure what it was leading to. For his part, Fury merely lifted a corner of his mouth, but did not give anything else away.
"We'll need to do one better..." he responded, the wheels turning in his mind. Under his breath, he muttered, "Hmm..."
Focusing on the other girl, the one who in other circumstances would have no right to meddle in the business of heroes, he nodded once more. The kid had guts, and HYDRA had been right to think her a person worth targeting on those blades all those months ago.
"Alright, Martin. Ball's rolling, but we'll start picking up momentum. If you'll do your part." Off her surprised expression, he lifted his chin. "I hope you didn't think you'd be getting out of this yourself."
The well of relief sprang up deep in her soul and right away she bobbed her head in agreement with his words. "No. I can make a couple calls myself."
Skeptical looks darted over her, and she shrugged her shoulders.
"What? I know some people, too. You don't have to be a secret agent to make connections."
"Get crackin', then," he commanded, softening it with his placid look. A significant glance shot to Maria, his eyebrow rising minutely. "Hill?"
She dipped her chin, acknowledging the unspoken that passed between them. "Yes, sir."
The screen went dark, leaving both the women to set about their tasks. Holly jumped up from her seat, going over to the sitting area claimed as her workspace, fetching her phone and starting to filter through her contacts. As Maria marched over to her desk, furtive looks kept flying to the younger brunette, her pallid face set determinedly, her fingers idly running over the row of stitches up to her hair as she contemplated something. Catching Hill's gaze after a second or two, she blinked.
"What?" she asked. Maria lifted a hand to the air, as if to brush at the question.
"You've really given this matter a lot of thought." A surprising amount, if Maria's tone was anything to go by. Holly canted her head, gesturing with her phone.
"I'm effectively living on both sides. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize changes do need to happen. Plus, when your SO is off busting heads and leaving you on your own more days out of the week than most, you do have time to consider how he and his team does things."
As she turned her attention back to the device in her fingers, she could still feel Maria's bright eyes watching her. Not knowing what to expect, she waited, breathing carefully as the other woman examined her.
"You know, what you're doing could potentially keep Steve in this line of work until..." the assistant said softly. There it was, the harsh reality: a quiet future surrendered to the will and evil of the world, if Holly went through with it and helped. But it wasn't as if it was an option to spare her the truth; Hill knew she needed to hear it, to know it in her heart. It made the other woman flinch, refuse to meet her sight. There was a layer of fear surfacing below, but aside from biting her lip, she did not verbalize it in any way. Lifting a shoulder, Maria looked back down at the surface of her desk. "Provided we pull this off, of course."
A shaky breath, followed by another, and Holly looked back up at her again. There were no tears to be shed this time, but the grim expression found there was compelling. Maybe not grim but...a form of acceptance, maybe? In truth, Holly wasn't sure herself what she was feeling about it all, but she did have an answer.
"Yes, I do know," she said, setting her shoulders and sniffing once. "It's what needs to be done."
"Uh-huh." Letting the statement slide, Hill struggled to find something to lift the stifling air in the room. Moving to unlatch a window along the far wall and let in a breeze, she let her lips pull up in a smarmy grin. "You do also know that your contacts are the same ones I have?"
A low, strangled groan was the younger woman's witty retort. Rolling her eyes, Holly was stopped by the notification playing on her cellphone. Looking down, she could see a text had come in, the display number overridden so it wouldn't show. A part of her was suspicious, but when she opened the message, she felt her gut clench with a different emotion.
BACK ON MISSION. STAY SAFE. LOVE YOU.
Another breath escaped her lips, face creasing as she cleared throat once more. Swiping the illicit message away, she brought back up her contact screen, ready to make her first call. She just prayed that Jane Foster wasn't dead asleep on her end, wherever she was.
"Let me have this one thing, okay, Hill?" she requested woodenly, tacking a stipulation on as a chuckle reached her ear. "And don't tell Fury. Or...anyone else."
"Alright, Martin."
A/N: Well, well, well. Look who is uploading before Friday again...
So...we got a lot going on in this chapter. Steve and Holly finally talk again after the craziness over the last day. It's nice for them to start leveling things out.
Finally, I get to a Thor-centric part of a chapter. Honestly, he's the character I feel the least equipped to write, simply because he is Thor. He's literally the stuff of legends, and frankly, my poor little human brain doesn't feel like it can do him justice. The scene in the caves is a culmination of the film and the deleted scene stuff brought forth, with my own little twist on it. I just hope it came across alright.
And yes, Holly is stepping up majorly to the plate in regards to helping out the team. At this point in her life, she's already so deeply involved that it doesn't make sense to keep her out of it all. Granted, in this version Maria and Fury have mostly beaten her to the punch, but she wants things to go well for the team, even if it means that Steve might be involved for the rest of his life. HOWEVER. She is not an agent, she is not a member of the Avengers, she is not affiliated in that way. She's just expressing herself in the way she thinks is right.
Also, with the plans being laid down as they are, the future of these people are going to be greatly affected. As in, one path being diverted to another. As has been mentioned many times, things are changing and changing again, for everybody, in many ways. At this point, it can be said that the story is truly switching gears into an AU. I mean, it basically became that way when I introduced an OC way back in the first story, but now I'm altering it a little further (it will be more evident the closer we get to the end of this story). Some of you may not be on board with that decision, and that's fair, but that's how it is. I just hope you enjoy the writing anyway.
I don't own anything from the MCU, nor do I own any other pop culture references/references to Star Wars.
Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!