24 emergency landing
Introducing a new Avenger! I love Bruce so much and have been waiting to finagle him into this story.
I woke up completely astride a snoring but full-sized Scott. While I could feel the heat from the sun in the air, a canopy of helpful trees stretched across the sky to keep it from touching us. Grass rose up over our forms and would probably block our line of sight even if we were standing. What I could see over it was tree trunks thicker than trucks and either a lot of vines or enough snakes dangling from the branches to make me begin earnestly searching for the pouch of magic sand that had apparently transported us where Menzel said it would instead of what I requested of it.
I located the supply bag a few feet away, one of my shoes, but no magic sand. I threw a curse into the air, but the chatter from the bugs swallowed it before it could dream of bringing us help.
A kick to Scott's metal clad foot only resulted in him snoring louder. So, I dropped down to his ear and whispered obscene things about food that had him moaning and blinking open those forest green eyes.
"Did we die? Is this eden? Where's the forbidden apple tree?"
"Pretty sure we're somewhere in South America. Brazil most likely."
"Sweet, I always wanted to be eaten by a python." Scott hit a button on his suit that rendered it pocket sized and tucked it away in said pocket of his dark jeans. His white shirt was already doused with pinpricks of sweat and his hair damp from either the same of the humidity.
I remade the bun on my head, patting at the flyaways hopelessly and tugged the hem of my lightweight dress. Mezel had picked it out from a gas station for me, but anything was better than the prison getup.
Scott hopped to his feet, stretching his arms high over his head. "I vote north. There's got to be a town somewhere."
"What happened to your tracker?"
He produced it from his other pocket, wires splitting from a crack in the plastic. "I may have landed on it when you knocked me out. Chest still hurts by the way, thanks for that. I can fix it if I have the right equipment, but as it is, your pretty face isn't enough to get the job done."
My jaw slipped and I dove back to where we landed in search of something else that may have been broken in the chaos. The vial sat on a bed of grass as if waiting for me to pick it up. I did, cradling it against me before tucking it carefully into the backpack.
"That your energy juice?" Scott asked.
"This is what is going to take Hugh down. Joy died to protect this. North?"
He nodded and fell into step with me. It was slow going, with the grass fighting their every step and Scott shrieking every time a critter appeared before them. It only took minutes for sweat to claim every expanse of their skin. It took hours to find any sort of sign from human life, an abandoned camp site with the brush hacked away. Scott swayed towards the ground, exhaustion weighing down on him as the brief glimpses we caught of the sky continued to dim. I caught his arm, dragging him along in my wake.
"That's as good a place to crash as any. It's getting dark and I don't fancy the idea of sleeping in a tree just in case your completely thought through plan of finding a town doesn't pan out."
"It's not a plan. I can feel it," I said.
"And I can smell a cheeseburger. Doesn't mean either of our dreams is coming true, avatar."
"I can feel the shifts in the air, Lang. I…I can feel the life. We can make it before sundown just trust me."
"Because you've totally earned that."
"Fair. Alright. We walk one more hour and then we come back here if we haven't found anything."
"Don't get me wrong, I want to believe you. Just, these aren't my trapped in the middle of a rainforest hiking boots. These are more for downtown, I don't know, Vegas. I've never been to Vegas. Bet you could call a man's bluff by the way he breathes. Let's go when we get all this sorted out."
"Think I'd just rather go home. I haven't seen Costa Rica in years."
"You gonna invite the Sargent?" Scott teased, jarring her ribs with his elbow.
"He's fucking pissed," I muttered, tucking a few stray curls behind my ear. "He's never gonna trust me after this."
"Why? Because you gave yourself up for us twice? Because the woman who manipulated your mind, convinced you she was right?"
"Because she was."
"Right. Right. I'm just giving you shit. Anyway, I'll go regardless. I've been meaning to even out my tan. The Sargent probably needs to as well from you know, cryofreeze and all. That lighting can't be good for his natural pearly skin."
"Shut the fuck up," I laughed, rolling my eyes at the ridiculous man.
The trees parted, the ground dipping down into a valley. Her eyes settled on the little village nestled in the crevice of the mountains. Smoke wafted up from a few chimneys and distant sounds of laughter carried through the air. I exhaled in relief, gripping the nearest tree for support. The fading sun set the sky as an eerie gray color. I thought about flying there for the joy of it. Joy.
Scott was the one to shove the thought away, by distracting me with another. The mountain immediately to our left was the source of the unrest in the atmosphere I felt. It drew in the dull colors of the sky and created storm clouded just itching to break. Scott licked his lips and squeezed my hand where it had landed in his own. "So, my vote is the inviting houses instead of the foreboding doomsday hill."
"Hugh is up there. He was transported too."
"Yeah, that solidifies my answer. You gonna convince him to swallow that magic juice?"
"He's too far gone mentally. He killed his own wife. We should contact the team first. Let's go see if that village has any form of technology to help us."
"Look at you maturing and deciding not to throw your life to the wind. That was a pun by the way since you can manipulate the wind." Scott talked us all the way down the valley.
The trek was tiresome and my shins screamed by the time we reached the bottom and the beginnings of a dusty footpath leading between the petite buildings. Homes made from thin slices of wood and bound with hand-woven twine stretched down the street and outward in close knit rows that left barely any room for pathways between. Scott hunkered closer to me, body heat sticking to me more than the humid air about us.
The citizens milled about in the bare minimum of clothing consisting of muted colors and curious gazes. I felt like stripping away a few layers to join them; the sweat soaking through my shirt rendered it pretty much useless at this point.
While we treaded forward, the people parted around us, whispering in Portuguese. I could pick up a few similar words, but the rest was lost on me. One small girl planted herself directly in front of us, swaying back on her heels to crane her neck up to Scott's pale features.
"Hello there. Holla," Scott tried.
The child, maybe one at the most, still toddling and figuring out words in general, pointed to his face and cackled in delight.
Scott glanced at me. "I think I'm being mocked."
"You're sunburned without actually being in the sun today. It's pretty amusing."
Scott pressed his hands to his reddened cheeks while I turned to address the mother figure hovering close to the child. I put on a kind smile and offered out my hand. She glanced at it, scooped up her child, settling the girl on her hip and cut her head towards the smallest building at the far end of the street.
"Médico," she said.
"Doctor?" I asked. "No he doesn't need a doctor."
"Americano." She pointed at Scott then towards the shack again. "Americano."
"I think she means theres another american in there," Scott interrpreted.
"Yes, thank you," I clipped to him, then turned to the woman. "Thank you," I repeated more sincerely.
She grinned and ushered us forward, the others falling into step as our own little escort to the curtained doorway. I rapt my knuckles against the frame and Scott let out a little start of fright when it ripped back instantly. A man with small square glasses sat on his nose and dark hair mused in all directions of the compass stuck his head out. His mouth was open with a greeting but snapped closed when he spotted Scott and myself.
"Bruce Banner?" Scott asked.
Bruce took off his glasses, straightening and adjusting his loose white shirt. "Can I help you?" he asked.
Scott cackled and surged forward to hug the shorter man. "Oh man, I'm glad to see another Avenger. You happen to have any parts to help me fix this ear piece so I can call the others to come help with a little problem we may have set loose on your unsuspecting land?"
Bruce pushed Scott away gently and held the curtain open with his thin shoulders. "Why don't you two come inside."
Scott led the march and I followed while Bruce thanked the woman he called Estrela for bringing us to him. With the curtain shut and the contraining walls of the shack limiting his pacing area, Scott seated himself on the matress leaking straw. I leaned against the wall surveying our newest ally. Of course I knew tales of the timid man who could turn rampaging beast. His gaze was sharp, his intentions palpable and his face carefully neutral.
"How did you find me?" he questioned, propping himself up ont he hand-carved wooden table spilling over with notes.
"Oh, trust us. We weren't looking. I'm Scott by the way, Ant Man if you prefer. You get big when you turn on your powers, and sometimes destroy towns. I shrink, sometimes too much, haven't done that in a while. Anyway, Haven over there got a hold of some magic sand and poofed us here to get away from a general catastrophe of a man and broke our only communication device in the process."
"Saved our lives too. Nevermind that," I grumbled.
Bruce's gaze turned to me curiously. He was barefoot and wore fabric meant to be as soothing as the atmosphere around here. "Magic sand?" he repeated.
"It's a long story. Do you have anything Scott can use to repair our communication? I can explain while he works," I offered.
Bruce reached for a duffel in the corner and tossed it at Scott. He pulled out a powerless cellphone, laptop and a few music players.
"There's no signal out here. No electricity either," Bruce said.
"I can get catch a radio signal. Or make one if I have to. Thanks big guy."
Bruce nudged the one chair inside toward me and pushed himself up to sit atop the desk. He pulled open a drawer, revealing a bottle of whiskey. "I don't drink." He tossed it to me. "My patients do."
"Mind if i make you my acting physician?" I asked as I let the fire work its way down my throat.
Scott was too absorbed in his work to add in his own snappy comment. Bruce just smiled kindly and clasped his hands. "So, you have something to do with the brewing storm?"