Chapter 1
Notes:
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Chapter Text
AN: For Assistive Technology users, you should know the next two chapters are in Times New Roman and have a light yellow background. The desired effect is to make it look more like a paperback novel.
Chapter 1: The Perfect Stranger
Los Vengadores: the city that avenges. Not that she’s doing much avenging anymore. Maybe she did once, but these days, the people of Los Vengadores just keep right on hurting as the city looks on with the dead eyes of her broken street lights, letting that pain reflect and reflect on the cold, unfeeling glass of the windows of her high rises. If they were hurting bad enough, sometimes those people would come to a run-down office hidden away in one of those high rises. They’d heard from friends of friends that Tony Stark, PI, could get you that vengeance, that satisfaction of justice served and a world put to rights. But that had been a long time ago. These days the only thing I was raining vengeance on was my liver. The clink of ice in a glass and the oblivion at the bottom of a bottle were the only things between me and a memory of a dark cave in Afghanistan and some long cold vengeance of my own.
“Don’t let any trouble in, Pepper, I’m off the clock,” I said as I brushed past my receptionist’s battered pinewood desk on the way into my office. Pepper was a firecracker; long red hair and longer legs, but don’t be fooled by the pretty smile and the lilac perfume. She was all fire and ice cold, the kind of broad that’d burn you up inside just as you were freezing to death, a bombshell in stilettos and cherry-red lipstick. We’d had a thing once, but it was never meant to be. She was too good for an old lech like me, and easily worth double what I paid her. At the moment, she had her signature high heels up on the desk and was reading one of her harlequin romances, this one with a picture of a blonde woman in a green dress on the cover. I didn’t think Pepper had even heard me until she replied without looking up.
“You might be off the clock, Tony, but trouble’s got a way of finding you anyway. In fact, he already has.”
“He?”
“Says his name is Captain Rogers, and he’s waiting for you inside.”
A captain, huh? I always did love a man in uniform. I hung up my hat and trenchcoat and spat on my comb to slick down my hair. I probably still looked like hell, what with running on two days of no sleep and forty-four years of broken dreams and seeing too much, but a guy had to make an effort. Once I checked to make sure my black tie was knotted right and my suspenders weren’t crooked, I opened the door just as the first flash of lightning outside lit up the shadow of a figure looking out the window.
Trouble, Pepper said. Trouble wasn’t the half of it. Captain Rogers was a tall drink of water in an unforgiving desert of a world, a regular all-American heartthrob with a jawline made to cut glass and a face made to break hearts. Not a hair was out of place on his sandy blonde head, and when those baby-blue eyes took me in, he looked almost amused. It was like he’d known me all his life and it was all some big practical joke, the two of us meeting here. Joke or no joke, Captain Rogers must’ve been in real trouble to come all the way out here. And if the strange state of his clothes was anything to go by (Knickers on a man his age? And that sleeveless shirt was easily two sizes too small for him, not that I was complaining), he was a real fish out of water in Los Vengadores. The city didn’t take kindly to fish out of water.
“The retro look is good on you,” said Rogers, a blush just starting to heat the apples of his cheeks.
“I dunno what retro is, dollface, but I’m glad you like it,” I said as I walked over to the liquor cabinet. “Go have a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment. Want a drink?”
Captain Rogers didn’t move. In the corner of my eye, I could see he was frowning, looking my way like I was a piece that didn’t fit, like he was too young to realize the whole damn world was just pieces that didn’t fit. The city hadn’t crushed his spirit yet, but in a town like this it was only a matter of time.
“Tony, do you know who I am?” he asked.
“Glad we’re at first names already, darling, but I’m sorry to say I don’t know yours,” I said as I crossed the small, untidy room, filled with odds and ends from cases I’d solved and broads and fellas I’d burned hot for, for a time: a backgammon tile over here, a baseball signed by Sam “The Falcon” Wilson over there, an old dummy all the way back from my first case in the corner. Eventually I got behind my old, scratched-up oak desk, drink in hand, and sat down on the worn leather chair.
“I—,” the captain stammered, “When Pepper didn’t recognize me I assumed it was because she wasn’t the real Pepper, but you—”
“Whoa, slow down and have a seat, darling. I can tell you’ve had a rough time of it, what with the clothes on your back getting stolen on your way here. I can lend you a coat on your way out, if you like, but maybe first we can get to why a pretty fella like you came all this way to see a washed-up old PI like me.”
He hesitated, then came over and sat himself down on one of the cheap wooden seats across from my desk, the ones that I’d promised myself I would replace as soon as I got my PI business off the ground, a lifetime ago. The rain was starting to pound against the windows in earnest, but here in this office lit by the glow of the single light bulb gently swaying with the draft over our heads, it was like nothing in the whole damn city mattered except this poor kid and the trouble he’d brought to my door.
“Tony, listen to me. This isn’t you. You’re not a PI, you’re a genius billionaire playboy philanthropist superhero. You and everyone else who lives in the tower have all been put under a spell, and you need to come with me to break it.”
I suppose that’s what I get for saying I’ve heard it all before.
“Figures,” I said as I threw back some of the scotch, feeling it burn all the way down.
“You believe me?”
“No, doll, but I know what it looks like when the cats at the station send someone to play a joke on me. Who sent you? Was it Hill?”
“I’m not from the station. I live a few floors above you, and you’re one of my closest friends.”
“Well now I know you’re clownin’ around, ‘cause if what you said was true, there’s no way I’d just be friends with a fella that looks like you.”
The blush spread from the apples of his cheeks, like a rumor in a church on Easter Sunday. It was sweet, but it stung a little, having that reminder that at the end of the day, he was just a lost kid in a lonely world. The captain might have come here as a prank from the guys at the station, but he still had a look in his eyes that spelled ‘danger’. Something was weighing him down, something big.
I never could stay away from a pretty face in distress.
“Look, dollface, I know you might’ve come here to get an extra nickel in your pocket, but at the end of the day, nobody comes here ‘til they’re at the end of their rope. And judging by the look on your face and the way you won’t stop fiddlin’ with the arm of that chair, you’re not just at the end of your rope. You’re at the end of the pier and you’re about to step off. You’re not a looney and you’re not a floozy, so how about you tell me what’s really goin’ on that brought you here today. You can start by tellin’ me your full name.”
The captain furrowed his brow just as the lightning flashed again. And for a moment, I could see all the lines that had already etched themselves into his face, like he was a hundred-year-old man in a thirty-year-old body. I must’ve been wrong about the city not getting to him yet. He had a face like everyone got eventually in Los Vengadores: careworn and tired.
“My name is Captain Steven Rogers. Everyone calls me Steve or Cap. And you’re right. I’m here because I’m… I’m looking for someone.”
“Ain’t that the way it goes? Who is she?” I said.
“He is the man I told you about. Rich, brilliant, kind, never sits still. He’s got a razor-sharp wit that could cut anyone to ribbons but it’s covering a heart of gold.”
“Quite a fella. Where’d you see him last?”
“Here in this building, if you’ll believe it. That’s… that’s why I took the job to come here. I figure the more floors I see the better idea I can get of where he’s gone.”
“And when did you last see him?”
“Last week. Then he went out of town on a business trip to San Diego. But he was seen walking into the tower last night.”
“A missing lover in the tower, huh? Could be interesting.”
“No, we, um, we weren’t lovers.”
“But you wanted to be, didn’t ya, sweetheart?”
Steve said nothing with his words and everything with the shift of his eyes and the tightness in his jaw.
“To young love,” I toasted, then I downed what was left of my scotch. I took a pencil stub from a cup that used to be a gadget, back when I’d taken a stab at being an inventor, and wrote down a few notes.
“What’s your honey’s name?” I asked.
“T— Howard. Howard Krats.”
“And a description?”
“He looks a lot like you, if you’ll believe it. Strong build, goatee, brown eyes.”
“Glad to know he’s a handsome fella at least.” I put down the pencil, stood up, and gestured toward the door. “C’mon, let’s take a stroll.”
“Really? You’ll help me?”
“If he’s stashed somewhere in the tower and he turns up from us just takin’ a walk, that hardly counts as help now does it, doll?”
Steve let out a low chuckle as he followed me out the door. He said, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. It’s just; T— Howard, he makes fun of me all the time, for using words like ‘doll’ and ‘fella.’”
“Your Howie’s got a strange sense of humor. Now c’mon. Where do you wanna start our Tour de Tower?” I asked as we left my office.
“Maybe we could take the elevator up to the top floor and work our way down,” said Steve.
Over my shoulder I heard Pepper snort. We both turned to look at her. Eyes still on her book, she said, “Captain, that elevator’s as likely to get repaired as I am to wear tennis shoes. Didn’t you notice on your way up?”
“No. I took the elevator here, so it must be working again,” said Steve.
That finally got Pepper to look up at me, a question in her eyes. It was the same one I felt in my gut. There was no way the elevator was fixed, which meant Steve was lying. But why was he lying about something so trivial?
“Humor me, darling, I’m an old man and I could use the exercise. Let’s take the stairs up a floor and start from there,” I said.
“Don’t look so old to me,” said Steve, a dangerous kind of smile playing across the corner of his mouth. I had a feeling that when it came to Steve, the only smiles he had were the dangerous kind. I was a fly and he was a pot of honey, and I could already feel myself starting to drown.
But that didn’t mean I had to go down easy.
Once Steve was out the door and out of earshot, I turned to Pepper and said, “Pep—”
“If you’re not back in thirty minutes I’ll call the station,” said Pepper, already back to reading her romance novel. “I’d ask if you’re planning on carrying, but you and me both know the answer to that one. So instead I’ll say don’t do anything stupid, Tony.”
Did I say she was worth double what I paid her? She was worth ten times that.
I put on my shoulder holster and checked the handgun inside was loaded, then pulled on my hat and trench coat for good measure, before I walked out the door to catch up with the captain. One way or another, I was going to figure out what had driven Steve Rogers to my door. At the same time, I vowed not to look too closely at what was driving me to him.
Chapter Text
Chapter 2: The Spider's Web
A short flight of stairs later, Steve and I were on Natasha’s old floor. Maybe it was my imagination but I could swear there were still traces of her perfume in the air, the sort of spicy, musky fragrance that was the only warning you’d get that you were caught in the black widow’s web. She was a white Russian rose hiding a deadly viper beneath, but she knew just how to play the meek little mouse to lure in the fat cats from Barton’s casino or Odinson’s gentlemen’s club. Married four times while she was in Los Vengadores, only to have her husbands either disappear mysteriously or suffer unfortunate accidents. I tried to nail her for it more than once, but the second I started to get close, she was in the wind, nothing but an echo of a laugh and a memory of wicked green eyes. In more ways than one, she’d always be the one that got away.
“This floor’s been abandoned since Mrs. Romanov skipped town last year. Not a bad place to stash a missing beau,” I told Steve as I glanced around, taking in the cracked paintings and bits of furniture with beads and old, dead flower petals scattered on top of them. When she’d left, she’d left in a hurry.
“Mrs. Romanov?” said Steve, as if he knew the name (another interesting clue I’d file away for later), “So… ok, if we take the stairs we stay in the sp — nevermind.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head on the way over here, dollface? Maybe when the mook stole your clothes?” I asked.
“No, I’m alright, these are just my exercise clothes. Hey, are you sure we can’t take the elevator up?”
Again with the damn elevator. Whatever Steve wasn’t telling me, it always came back to the elevator.
“Do you have something against stairs, doll?” I asked, not quite keeping the wariness out of my voice.
“It’s an army thing,” said Steve quickly. “I like to do things efficiently. Quickest way from point A to point B, start at the top and work your way down, you get the idea.”
Steve added an apologetic little smile to seal the deal on the hooey he was trying to sell me. I had half a mind to tell him what I thought of his phoney army efficiency, but I decided to call his bluff instead.
“Look, darling, I’m not pulling your leg here. It just ain’t working. See?” I said as I walked over to the elevator and pressed one of the buttons.
There was a ding. A moment later the doors opened and the elevator carriage was there, working and intact.
I’ll be damned.
“Great, let’s get started,” said Steve brightly, doing his damnedest to sound as innocent as a choirboy. And somehow, that’s what it took for everything to click into place in my mind. I reached inside my coat, pulled out my gun, and pointed it at Steve.
“Whoa! Tony, what’s—”
“You thought you were bein’ real slick, didn’t ya?” I said as I started to inch toward him, “Oh Tony my lover’s missing, oh Tony can you please help, oh Tony— ”
“I don’t know what you’re implying.”
Losing my patience, I quickly closed the distance between us and used my free forearm to slam him against the wall and pin him under the chin, my gun poking into his gut.
“Who sent you really, huh? Was it Killian?” I breathed into his cheek.
“No one sent me,” he choked out.
“Sure, and you just happen to be lookin’ for a fella with my last name spelled backwards and my old man’s first name. Did you really think I’d be dumb enough not to notice you tryin’ to get me to the roof as fast as possible so you could push me off, make it look like I’m just another hard-luck PI whose luck got a little too hard? Or no, I’ll bet the elevator’s rigged to drop as soon as I step inside, isn’t it?”
“We don’t have time for this,” said the captain irritably, that good boy veneer finally starting to crack.
“You’re damn right we don’t, sweetcheeks. I’m gonna need you to—”
A moment later my arms were pinned at my sides. But before I could fight him, Steve’s lips were against mine and he was kissing me, deep and hot and hungry. All this time I thought I’d caught a small-time sheep trying to make it in with the wrong people, but I was wrong. Steve was a wolf, and all I could do was stand there and be devoured.
Then I felt the cold press of metal poking into my gut.
“Get into the elevator, Tony,” said Steve in a low, dangerous voice, still breathless from that kiss. He was a real pro, taking my gun when my mind was on cloud nine. A real fella fatale if I ever saw one.
“Or what?” I said, refusing to back down.
“Or I’ll shoot you and make it look like you did it yourself. Killian doesn’t care either way.”
“So it is Killian, huh? Figures. He knows my type. He was my type once, did he tell you that?”
“Quit talkin’ and get into the elevator.”
“Oh I never quit yakkin’. I’m famous for it. And no, I wouldn’t get in that elevator now for all the money in the world. You’ll have to force me, angel.”
Steve looked me up and down, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, not quite hiding the naked desire lingering in his eyes. But now it was warring with something dangerous. It shouldn’t have sent a shiver running down my spine, but the feel of Steve’s eyes on me was intoxicating .
“Works for me,” said Steve, and a second later he was bum rushing me backwards into the open elevator doors.
Chapter Text
AN: If you're reading this with a screen reader, you should know I've configured the horizontal rule that starts this chapter, and all future horizontal rules in the story, to look like green and black stars. The look I was going for was something like magical energy. Also, the text is no longer configured to look like a paperback novel.
Tony woke with a groan. He could feel his legs buckling awkwardly to fit his recumbent frame within the confines of a small room.
Great. Passed out in a closet. Well, it’s been a while, I guess I was due, he thought to himself.
“Tony?” said Steve's tentative voice over him.
Tony opened his eyes a fraction and hissed at the harsh lights above him. Judging by the lack of coats, he was actually in an elevator. Been a while for that one too. A second later he made out Steve’s frame, standing over him with—
“Jesus, Rogers! What the hell!?” said Tony as he backed into the wall. Steve had a gun pointed at him. And it might’ve been some antique from the 20’s, but the hammer was down and Steve was ready for a kill shot.
Steve lowered the gun a fraction of an inch, but then he said, “Where did we meet?”
“On the SHIELD helicarrier. Was I just mind-controlled or something?” said Tony.
Steve lowered the weapon and sagged against the side of the elevator with a relieved sigh. Whatever they’d just been through must’ve been rough.
“Or something,” said Steve dully, as he reached down to help Tony up. Then he added, “You really don’t remember anything?”
“Pretty sure I’d remember a situation that made you point a gun at me, Steve.”
Tony suddenly became aware of his clothes.
“Steve, why am I dressed like my dad?” asked Tony.
Steve hesitated, then said, “There may have been some magic—”
"Magic?” Tony groaned. Then he closed his eyes, took a breath, and said, “What’d I miss?”
TWO HOURS EARLIER
“Hello, Captain Rogers. Please, have a seat.”
Steve blinked as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness. A moment ago, he’d been starting his morning run through Central Park. Now he was in what appeared to be some sort of study. Between the ornate oriental rug on the floor, the walls lined with books that looked older than he was, and the light fixtures just barely new enough to be hooked up to electricity, it was like he’d been transported into an old movie set marked “The Professor’s Study.”
He turned toward the voice that had spoken to him and immediately felt his blood pressure rise.
“Goddamn it, Strange, we’ve talked about this! You used to be a doctor, you know how to use a telephone!”
“I apologize, Captain, but I’m afraid in this case the transportation truly was necessary. I couldn’t risk you going back to the tower, and the magic that has trapped the other Avengers already might have extended to you as well if I had waited another moment.”
Steve felt his anger and his stomach drop. Someone had attacked the tower while he wasn't there. It was something straight out of his nightmares. The other Avengers, the closest people Steve had to family, could be hurt or worse and Tony was—
Steve banished the thought before it could trigger a panic.
“Are they ok? Are they hurt?”
“By all indications the Avengers are safe, for now," said Strange airily.
Steve felt his fear lessen, and some of his anger come back.
“How did this happen? I thought you and Thor put wards on the tower to prevent this sort of thing,” said Steve, perhaps a bit louder than was called for.
“We can only protect against what we know. The spell that has trapped your friends is a very new, very creative application of magic that neither Thor nor I could anticipate. What’s happened is the equivalent of a medieval castle coming up against a cannon for the first time.”
Steve was about to tell Strange exactly what he thought of that excuse, but Strange cut him off and said, "Captain Rogers, we may not have much time. I understand you're upset, but if you'll let me speak, then we can get to the part where we rescue your friends from a malicious sorcerer. So please." Strange gestured at the empty armchair across from him.
Steve let out a slow exhale, sat down in the armchair and said, “Tell me everything I need to know.”
Strange reached out into the air. A book flew off the shelf and he caught it.
“This book is an artifact: an item that has been imbued with a spell. Something similar was snuck into the tower. Our wards usually stop all artifacts before they can get through the front door but again: castle, meet cannon. The artifact I’m holding contains an imprisonment spell, and I believe something like it has trapped everyone in the Avengers section of the tower. I’ve already placed a ward to prevent anyone new from entering the affected floors, but the spell is preventing me from getting anyone out.”
Strange held the book out to Steve. Steve took it, opened to a random page, and started to read.
Doranon paced in front of the large dome window. He’d tried everything he could think of to escape his paper prison, but it was no use; he couldn’t do anything without his enchanted staff.
“When I get out of here, I am going to turn Strange into a field mouse and feed him to a python,” he growled.
“Books like these are useful for imprisoning people with little to no magical ability,” said Strange. “They’re cheaper, smaller, and more humane than a prison cell, and we can periodically check to see if the prisoner has learned their lesson, and free them when they have.”
“And something like this has trapped the Avengers?” said Steve as he closed the book.
“Like it, but not the same. The sorcerer, whoever they might be, had the brilliant idea to trap your friends not in a specific medium, like a book, but within stories themselves. Unfortunately, they had the skill and aptitude to make it plural.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Did you see that Doranon is aware he’s imprisoned? Your friends are not. They’re each folded into a type of story, in a genre that’s known enough to them for their minds to fill in the gaps and details whenever they subconsciously notice that something is wrong. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to convince them that they’re trapped when you meet them, although of course you’re welcome to try.
“As for what kinds of stories, any kind is possible, and not just within the medium of books. Ms. Romanov may be the hero in an 80’s action movie. Mr. Stark may be a tragic hero in a Shakespearean play. It’s impossible to know until you enter their world and try to find them. They may or may not recognize you. They may not even know who they are.”
“How do we get them out?”
“The only method I can recommend with any certainty of success is to find the artifact and destroy it. However, I’m afraid I can’t give you any guidance as to what it might be or where you might find it. My suggestion would be to free the Avengers from their individual stories first and then work together with them to determine what and where the artifact could be.”
“That makes sense,” said Steve. “Alright, how do we free them individually?”
“This is a very unusual application of magic and so nothing can be certain, but I do have an idea of something that should work.”
“Let me guess: I’m going to be the one actually risking my life, and you’re going to be on the outside helping, but not endangering yourself.”
“I don’t set things up this way intentionally, Captain, but magic does tend to operate like that.”
Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“What do I need to do?”
“The spell has a weakness. Each floor is its own locus of magical energy, which likely means each floor is its own story or genre. But there’s a space that is and isn’t a part of every floor of the tower—”
“The elevator,” finished Steve.
“I could put an enchantment on the elevator that ensures whoever enters it is free of the spell’s mind imprisonment. You would go in first, giving yourself immunity to whatever you encounter, and then it will be a matter of going to each floor and convincing your friends within the context of the story to follow you into the elevator. I should warn you though: once you and the elevator enter the field of the spell, there’s no way out except to destroy the artifact.”
“That sounds like a workable plan to me. Is there anything else I should know?”
“Yes. As I said, the minds of your friends are filling in the gaps of the world around them. That means you may see other people you or they are familiar with. The only real people present are the five remaining Avengers; anyone else is a figment of your friends’ imaginations, but they can still harm you. I’ll do my best to maintain the spell on the elevator and guard the world outside the tower in case this sorcerer has plans for the earth while the Avengers are out of commission, but I recommend apprising Colonel Rhodes and Sam Wilson of the situation as well, so they can cover for you while you conduct your rescue. And finally, a spell like this may become more powerful with time, so if we’re going to do this, we need to get started right away.”
Steve stood up, straightened his back, and said, “Alright. Let’s get to work.”
THE PRESENT
“You’ve got the first residential floor on the way up the tower, so you were my first stop,” continued Steve. “Your floor was some kind of 1920’s noir detective novel with you cast as the PI, and your imagination's version of Pepper as your receptionist. It took some uh… some doing, but I got you into the elevator. You were unconscious for less than a minute, and then you know the rest.”
Tony chose his next words very carefully.
“Fuck magic,” he said finally.
Steve snorted, shook his head and said, “I won’t tell Thor you said that.”
“You can tell Thor and Strange and anyone else what I said. The laws of physics exist for good goddamn reasons, and one of them is to make sure bullshit like this doesn’t happen. Now, that being said, I guess there’s not much we can do except go onward and upward. Once we’ve got the team together, we can get to work trying to find the artifact powering this shitshow.”
“That’s the plan,” said Steve.
“Before we do that, I have one more question: why do you look like you want to die right now?”
Steve did that thing where he tried to make his face blank, but he was such an open book that any idiot could see he was panicking, then he replied, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Steve, it’s fine. If you had to, I dunno, do something forceful to get me into the elevator, it’s ok. Retro-active consent, I’m granting it.”
Steve gave Tony a look he couldn’t read, and then said, “Alright, let’s just… c’mon, Nat’s floor is next.”
Tony felt the gears in his head start to churn. Something wasn’t adding up, and he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he’d missed something important while he still thought he was Tony Stark, PI. In the end he just shook his head slightly and pressed the elevator button for Natasha’s floor. Right now there was goddamned magic in his tower, and the sooner they kicked its ass the sooner Steve could tell him whatever was eating at him.
Tony never could stay away from a pretty face in distress.
Chapter 4
Notes:
The next couple of chapters are intentionally riddled with typos. I know that's a real barrier for dyslexic and screen-reader using readers, so I'll be posting a link up here in the chapter notes for a typo-free version if you need one. You can find typo-free chapter 4 here.
The only thing you're missing out on by going to that link is the skin, which is intended to spoof mid-aughts fanfiction.net.
You should also be vaguely aware of the existence of My Immortal for the joke to really land here.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
Imagine anything... unless it's about Interview with a Vampire
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark - Chapters: 1 - Words: 417- Reviews: 0 - Favs: 0 - Follows: 0 - Updated: March 19, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 1
DISCALMER: I du not own Stev & Tony & Natasha & evry1 else PLS DONT SUE lol
How can you see into my eyes, like open doors
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb
Hi my name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov & I have blood redhair with black streaks and purple eyes with gold flecks. I am half campire half werewolf half fae & becuz of that I can see the future & tlak to aminals & I work for Hydra which means I live with a lot of vampires & we save the world from prep vampires who arn’t goth like us. I use knifes tipped in Nightshad (thats how I got my name) & I always wear black. Lik today I am wearing a black leather dress with red lace, black dock Martinis, sparkle skull earrings and riped red fishjets. I had white foundation and black lip stick and lots fo black eyelinner. 2 prep boys came to my floor of the Hydra tower & 1 even laughed at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
“I would trade half my fortune for a picture of you right now, Nat,” said the prep who was dressd liek a granpa. I pit up my other midle finger.
“What the — what genre is this?” said the blonde prep who has eyes like limpid tears n was wering exercise cloths.
“Steve, there is literally no way I could explain this to you unless you were reading a very specific kind of terrible fanfiction on the internet circa 2006. Suffice it to say Nat is going to dress weird, talk weirder, and make the weirdest decisions until we can get her into the elevator.”
I roled my eyes all the way up till there was nothing but white & pot up my other middle figer. Then I went to see my hawt boyfriend. The prepz tried to followed me because they are jelous haters so I throwed a knif at them.
“This is yoru only warning, u prepy motherfuckers!” I shooted moodily & I beard my fangs. Blood dropped down my chin & onto my tits & made a pentagram (I am a Santanist).
"What the hell!?” said blond prep who loked at the blood on my tatas.
“Wait! Wait we uh… we want to be goths like you!” said the old one.
“We do? Ow! Ah, yeah. We do,” said the blonde prep sadly.
Without a soul
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
Notes:
Lightbulb icon in this and the next few chapters made by Good Ware from www.flaticon.com
Film reel icon in this and the next few chapters made by fjstudio from www.flaticon.com
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
We lost so many good tongues in the dominance wars...
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark - Chapters: 2 - Words: 764- Reviews: 4 - Favs: 0 - Follows: 3 - Updated: March 20, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 2
(AN: Stup flamming, Natasa is not Marie Sue she is goth!. Fangs 2 xXx3nch4n72355xXx 4 te beta ur ta bob PLS R&R)
(Wake me up) Wake me up inside
(I can’t wake up) Wake me up inside
(Save me) Call my name and save me from the dark
We went to the Hot Topic. Steve (that is the blonde preps name) got a GC tee shirt, black sk8r pants, checked vans and eyeliner & I panted his nails to look lik pentagrams. Tony wore a marilyn Mansion shirt with black fishnet rave sleeves over it, red color contacts, riped black jeans & black convers. I bought a corset with balck lace all over it, black fisnets, & black leagher boots with alot of fuckles.
“I hate every single thing about this,” exclaimed Steve.
“Like we hate everything! Because we’re goths,” said Tony depressingly.
“Why is there a clothes store in Natasha’s living space?” said Steve moodly.
“You can’t think too hard about details like that for a story like this. Besides, now that Nat can see we are appropriately goth and not posers, I’ll bet she wants to hear about the secret My Chemical Romance concert happening in the basement,” said Rony
I scremed “OMFG I luuuuurrvv MCR they are the best and Gerard Way is so HOTTT”
“Yeah, I’d tap that,” sighed Toly hornly. Steve loke confuse but TOny said “Well I would. And it’s a thing for this genre; the protagonist likes bi dudes. Just don’t be weird about it, ok?”
“I’d never be weird about something like that, Tony,” sed Seve all blushing bcause he’s closeteded (AN: AN: don’t u fik gay guyz r lik so hot! HOMOSOPES FUCK OFF!!!!!)
Tony srhuged & said, “Natasha, we need to hurry up and take the elevator to the basement or we’re going to miss it,” siad Tony.
“UR NOT GOIN ANYWERE WITH MY GF!” shooted someone.
It was Loki!!!!
(Wake me up) Bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up) Before I come undone
(Save me) Save me from the nothing I've become
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
We're what happens when schools cut sex ed
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Loki - Chapters: 3 - Words: 1161- Reviews: 7 - Favs: 0 - Follows: 4 - Updated: March 21, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 3
(AN: Stap Flaming m sersious if u flam it menz ur a preep or a posr! Natsia hez a HT on hr floor bcuz se work 4 Hydra n dey set dat up.0
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
“Wait,” said Toni putin his ram on Seves chest all protective, “I don’t think he’s rea— I think he’s like Pepper was on my floor. Let him say something to be sure.”
“Y R U HITTIN ON My GF!!!????” Loki howlde.
“Oh thank God he’s not,” seaid Yony, “I mean we’re not! She’s all yours. We’re um… Steve and I are boyfriends, see?”
Tiny frenched STeve all hawtt. Loki toatly got a boner waching them (hes bicurious).
“Uhhhhh,” said Steve all shy and aborsalbe.
“I— um. I was going for a peck on the cheek, but I guess no kissing except French kissing exists in this universe. I’m sorry, St… Loki. Sorry for making you worry. Because I’m happy with Steve. And Steve’s happy with me, see?” said Tonu.
“Ok den. Im sory Nashat I just love u sooooooooooo much!” ejaculated Loki
“Its ok” I said & we frenched, our tongues battling for dominance.
“I think I need to wash my eyeballs with bleach,” sad Stove grumpyly bcuz he had a crush on me “And maybe some holy water.”
“Bruce has an eye-wash station in his lab, but you’ll have to get in line behind me,” said Tony bcuz he had a cruss on me 2.
“I cnat wait 2 show u my tatoo baby,” laughed loki then he riped off his shirt. He had a tatoo that said “Nashata” in a <3 over his <3.
“I take it back, this whole universe is literally the funniest thing that has ever happened and I don’t want to forget a single second of it,” roared Tpny
lOKI TURned 2 faec him & said “Stop making joke at Nastasia she is my gf and I looooooooove her.”
“WHAT IS ON UR BACK!!1!” I creamed.
It was a tatoo of Steves name in a <3!!!!
Frozen inside without your touch, without your love
Darling, only you are the life among the dead
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
You only hate us because teenage girls like us
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Loki - Chapters: 4 - Words: 1586- Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 5 - Updated: March 22, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 4
(AN: Loki: Goglor y r u so mean I jus want 2 fuck Natashi :(((((
Me: Im sory bb <3<3<3
Loki: Waaaaaahhhhhh I m so hrony DX
Me: *Kisses. Then mebbe we mak out LOL HES SO HAWTTT!! NEway, stop flaming or I wil cut u! Fangs for da liekz, u goffs wo r reading u da bomb.com!!!)
All this time, I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me
I ran 2 my room & slammed the door so I could cry tears of blood. Then I put my iPod nano in the dock and lissend 2 Im Not Ok by MCR bu then Steve came & said, “Natasha, we should talk.”
I throwed a nife at him and shooted “GO AWAY U R STEALING MY BF U ASHOLE!!!”
“Natasha um… Loki and I are… um…” Ateve said all shily & then he looked out the dor & there was Tony who said, “Go on, tell her. It’s the only way, Steve. Try not to gag.”
Dteve looked sick butt he said, “Loki is my… ex-boyfriend. That is what he is. We used to… to date. Romantically date. Me and Loki, dating romantically. But we don’t anymore. But that’s why you saw the tattoo on his back. Because he got it when we were… dating. Romantically. Because that is a thing that happened, between me and… and Loki. The mass-murderer who almost took over the world. But it isn’t happening anymore because I’m dating Tony now, apparently.” sad Steve all sad.
Tonu was laffing but then he stoped & he said, “Ok, now we’ve straightened that out, let’s go to the My Chemical Romance concert.”
I put on a blac bra & a riped MCR shirt so ppl could see my pale skin under and then I wore a red plaid skirt with a black belt with loss of metal studs, black riped fishnets and combad boots. I put on white foundation with black eye shadow and purple lipstic & I wore 3 sets of studs i my ears that had moons on them bcuz I am a werwolf.
Den I went out were Stev an Tony were waiting. loki waiting too was playing Helena on speakers (that was wour song bcuz we made out the first time lisning 2 it) & he sad “IM SO SORY I PROMISE I OVE ONLY UUUUUUU!!!”
“Its ok” is aid while I frenched him (Tony & Steve sounded all jelos & disgusted) “Come on lets go to the concert!”
“UR NOT GOIN ANYWHERE!!!” said a dark voice evillly.
It was Nick Fury!!!!
I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
Chapter 8
Notes:
Typo-free version of this chapter here.
In case you are a Youth (tm) or what AU Gogglor would call a "posr," Gerard Way was the lead singer of My Chemical Romance, which was the emo band to end all emo bands (even though they're kinda more alt-rock? Idk, man, the mid-aughts were a weird time).
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
What if Harry Potter fucked?
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Loki, Nick Fury - Chapters: 5 - Words: 2015- Reviews: 17 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 7 - Updated: March 23, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 5
(AN: Sry 4 da long time btwn updatz I wuz grounded & my stepmom sed I cldn’t use da family computer & she wont get me a laptop bezus she is a BITCH!!11!1! Fangs 4 da liekz & STOP FLAMMING!!!” I WIL NOT UPDATE WIVOUT 5 GUD REVIOWS!!!)
Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul
Don't let me die here (there must be something more)
Bring me to life
“NATASHS U MUST KILL LOKI OR U WILL TURN BAC INTO A MERMAID” Nick Fury Showted.
“This is really a genre? People read this garbage?” assed Steve loudly.
“Hey, don’t be an asshole. This is what adolescents in the mid-aughts wrote anonymously on the internet to make themselves feel seen. And honestly? More power to ’em. At that age, most adults just stick a copy of The Outsiders in your hand and leave you to figure it out, so is it really so weird that some people want to go online and talk about themselves in whatever they’re reading? And yeah, it’s not exactly Shakespeare, but you have to write a lot of garbage before you can learn to write well,” said Tony.
“I WILL NEVER KILL KOKI UR NOT MY DAD!!!” I yelloed.
“Ok, yeah, I can hear the teenager part now,” wincd Stove, “You’re right. This is probably better than the poetry I wrote when I was that age. I’m no one to judge.”
“I would give half the cars in my garage for a look at that poetry Steve,” sai Tony.
“And you will never, ever see it,” grined Stiv.
“IF U DO NOT KILL LOKI I WILL KILL U BOTH!!11” scremed Fury evily as he floo away.
“Huh. Minus the typos, that is something the real Fury would say,” daid Tiny.
I fried terz of bloood & so did Koki & then we frenched.
“I wil never kill u baby.,” I said all weppy.
“We should runaway & make a band with Seve and Rony!!1” said Loki all excited.
“Ok, discourse on the quality of the story aside, we’re wasting time here. But whenever we get close to the elevator, some weird new nonsense like this pops up and derails us,” faid Xteve.
“Then clearly we need to be the weirdest nonsense on the whole floor.” said Tony “Hey! Natasha! Real sorry, but I can’t join your band because of my deepest, darkest secret. You see… I am… Gerard Way in disguise!”
(Wake me up) Wake me up inside
(I can't wake up) Wake me up inside
(Save me) Call my name and save me from the dark
Notes:
I have never held a fanfiction hostage for comments in my entire life and I never will again, but... well, you heard alternate universe Gogglor: I'm going to need 5 "gud reviows" on this chapter before we can advance to the thrilling conclusion of Natasha Nightshade Blood'ness Vampira Way Romanov's story. Remember: no flamming!
UPDATE: Wow, that's the fastest I've ever gotten 5 comments on anything. Final update for Nat's floor tomorrow! If you're coming here now, in the spirit of mid-aughts terrible fanfiction, please don't neglect to do your bit and leave a gud reviow.
Chapter Text
Fanfiction.fake
Very clever, using the elevator like that. I'll allow it, since I need to keep you busy somehow, and it won't help you in the end.
Movies > Marvel Cinematic Universe
By: Gogglor
Mmy name is Natasha Nigtshade Blood’ness Vampira Way Romanov an I am a goth fampire and I hav a hot boyfriend & we r in luuuurrrrvvvvv
Rated:Fiction M - English, barely - Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Loki, Nick Fury, Gerard Way - Chapters: 6 - Words: 2235- Reviews: 32 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 7 - Updated: March 24, 2005 - Published: March 19, 2005 - Status: Incomplete - id: 1029802
Chapter 6
(AN: Thaks 4 the gud reviows MANASHA IS NOT A GODSUE SE HAS FLAWS!!1! Loki is NOT OOC he got te tatoo becuas he lurves Katasha so much <3<3<3 PREPZ STOP FLLAMING))
(Wake me up) Bid my blood to run
(I can't wake up) Before I come undone
(Save me) Save me from the nothing I've become
“You see, I wanted to date Steve but if I did that publicly all the homophobic preps and haters would come out, so I put on this disguise. But that’s why we need to hurry up and get to the concert. I can’t be late for my own show,” Said GERAD WAY OMG OMG OMG!!!!!!!
“Yeah! Yeah, Nick Fury, he hates the Chemical Romance. He might try to stop us! We should hurry!” siad Steve.
We ran tooward the lift (Thats british 4 elevator bcuz I am half british thas y I have a accent) but then my eyes roled up & I strated 2 have a vison of the future. But b4 I could see it, Gerart shoted “Nick Fury is your real father!”
“I’m your evil twin brother!” ylled Stove.
“I’ve been cursed by your mother, the fairy queen!” yelled Gerard.
“Loki is actually an alien from Asgard!” shooted Steve.
“And he’s secretly a frost giant!” hollerd Ferard.
We went in the elevator and
Natasha didn’t open her eyes immediately when she regained consciousness. She was in a small, well-lit space with a polished stone floor that smelled relatively clean, most likely an elevator. Around her were two people who were shifting their weight uneasily. Her hands weren’t bound, and she wasn’t drugged. If they’d counted on her staying knocked out they were about to get quite a surprise.
“Was I unconscious this long after my floor?” said Tony’s familiar voice, and Natasha felt herself relax. She allowed herself to show signs she wasn’t unconscious.
“Just about. And it looks like she’s coming around,” said Steve Rogers’s voice.
Natasha opened her eyes and looked up. She very nearly burst out laughing at the sight of Steve and Tony standing over her wearing moody goth teenager costumes, but the laughter died in her throat when she realized she was wearing one too, and she didn’t remember putting it on. She wasn’t hungover, which meant… oh no.
“Did I kill anyone?” Natasha asked, fearing the answer but needing to know.
“No, Nat. Just some evil magic making us do stupid things, but nothing that bad,” said Tony as he held out a hand to help Natasha up.
“How stupid?” said Natasha, as she furrowed her brow at the skulls painted on her nails.
Ten minutes of explanation later, all Natasha could say was, “Thor is never going to let me live this down.”
“First of all, forget Thor, I’m never going to let you live this down,” said Tony. “Second of all, cheer up, for all we know Thor is in a porno with Red Skull and Modok right now.”
“Jesus, Tony, I did not need to picture that!” said Steve, his whole body visibly recoiling.
Natasha chuckled a bit and said, “C’mon. If the universe stays in place after we’ve left it, we can go back to the Hot Topic and find something less terrible to wear. They’ve got to have band tee shirts and jeans, right?”
“I mean, minus the contacts and the overshirt, this is pretty much what I wear every day,” said Tony. Then he paused and added, “I’m not sure what that says about me.”
“That you have the fashion sense of a moody teenager?” said Natasha.
“I resent that. My usual ripped jeans make my ass look much better than these do,” said Tony, turning around to illustrate his point, and utterly oblivious to the blush creeping up Steve’s neck.
Idiots.
“What if fake Loki or Fury tries to stop us?” asked Steve.
“Kill them or knock them out, I’m not picky if they’re not real,” said Natasha with a shrug. Then a thought struck her, and she said, “Boys, how bad is my make up right now?”
“We need to get going,” said Steve hastily. “Strange said not to spend too much time, and if we’re making a clothes stop we’re already—”
“Wow, that bad?” said Natasha, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. That bad,” winced Tony.
Chapter 10
Notes:
Scroll down
Chapter Text
You pull back from the microscope and rub your eyes. Sometimes it’s hard being equal parts scientist and superhero but you, Dr. Bruce Banner of the Avengers, do your best to strike that balance between work in the field and work in the lab. When you look at your watch, however, you wonder if this time you’ve leaned a bit too hard on the scientist side; you’ve worked through the night again, without intending to. Your counterpart, the big green raging creature known as the Hulk, tends to be more inclined to assert himself when you go on work binges like this, which is why you usually leave them to your friend Tony. But you also know there’s no way you would’ve been able to get a good night’s sleep knowing the samples were ready to be categorized and documented. The results are less promising than you’d hoped, and you know you’ll eventually need to revisit your original hypothesis, but that’s tomorrow’s task. Right now you still have more categorizing to do, although you can sit back for a minute or two.
You hear the lab doors open. In walk your friends Natasha, Tony, and Steve. All of them have that look on their face like they’re determined to get you to see some sunshine. It simultaneously fills you with warmth and twists you with annoyance. They’re always here like this, trying to look out for you.
“Oh thank God,” says Tony, throwing up his hands, “If we had to do one more layer of choose-your-own-adventure searching for Bruce in his own damn suite, I was going to get the suit and level the place till we found him.”
You decide to ignore the weird line about choosing your own adventure and reply, “I don’t think that would’ve turned out well for any of us, Tony.”
“Like you’ve never hulked out in your suite before,” says Tony as he pushes aside some papers and takes a seat on your desk. Then he opens his mouth as if to say something, stops, and says, “Steve, you’re driving. You’ve got to pick.”
“Hey Bruce, looks like you’ve been working hard,” says Steve. “Do you want to take a break and get some food?”
“I appreciate it, guys, but I really want to finish with these slides before I take a break."
“Yeah, these slides aren’t going anywhere. C’mon, I’ve got stuff for sandwiches in the kitchen.”
Everyone looks at each other for a moment.
“I mean, if anyone might believe us, it’s Bruce,” says Tony.
“Bruce,” says Steve carefully, “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re actually under an enchantment right now.”
“What? I haven’t even left the lab since this time yesterday,” you say.
“Someone snuck a magic artifact into the building and trapped all of us. But if you come with us you’ll be free of it,” says Natasha.
You roll your eyes and say, “You remember I was there at that meeting where we brainstormed lies to tell Tony to get him out of his lab, right? You’re really going to use idea fourteen on me?”
“Wait, what?” says Tony, as Nat and Steve studiously avoid eye contact with him.
“You can just say you think I need a break, no need for the subterfuge,” you say.
“Ok, one, we are revisiting the acceptable-Tony-lies later,” says Tony, “Two, it’s not a lie this time.”
“Where’s Strange then?” you ask. “I mean, undoing magic is his thing. So where is he?”
“Unavailable,” says Steve.
“What’s the magic artifact that spelled us?” you ask.
“We don’t know,” says Natasha.
“And who spelled us?” you ask.
“We don’t know that either,” says Tony.
“Look, if you guys are gonna lie to me like this, you’ve got to nail down the details a little better.”
Tony opens his mouth as if to continue arguing, but Steve holds up a hand to stop him.
“You got us, we’re lying. But do you want to take a break for some food anyway?”
“I appreciate it, guys, but I really want to finish with these slides before I take a break."
“Yeah, these slides aren’t going anywhere. C’mon, I’ve got stuff for sandwiches in the kitchen.”
You turn back toward the small box of slides, but suddenly, you feel strong arms grabbing you and pulling you away, forcing you out of the lab. If you hadn’t been awake for thirty-two hours, you probably could’ve told Steve to get the hell off before this got messy. But you’re sleep deprived and annoyed, and when you start to feel the other guy taking over, you don’t have it in you to fight it.
“Steve, you idiot!” Tony shouts, as your skin starts to green, “Trying to take him by force was the obvious dumbass option, why’d you pick that!?”
“Because the only other one was going back to the elevator!” Steve yells. “What, are we just supposed to give up?”
“That’s CYOA-speak for starting over, not giving up!” Tony shouts from below (you’re now eight feet tall and growing fast). “Did they not have CYOA in the 40’s?”
“No, they didn’t, Tony!” Steve yells back.
“Both of you shut up!” yells Natasha.
It is a glorious day and you are now a terrible Hulk. What would you like to do first?
The glass tanks of animals and plants are rapidly locking down, although there’s no need for the precaution. The plants and animals make the small you feel happy. The glass squares were making the small you upset, though, and keeping him awake. And they might be locking down with the desk, but you’re faster than you look. You raise your fists over your head and reduce Bruce’s carefully organized slides on the desk to glass powder and plywood. You reach for the computer monitor and throw it against the wall, where it explodes into a shower of circuit board fragments. You tear apart the wall that has come down to protect a table of delicate-looking glass vials before it can cover them (because really, glass smashing is so nice, the small you will understand) and tear it apart. Then you punch through the glass containers and feel the burn of something caustic as they shatter and get their contents on your skin. Nothing enough to seriously hurt you, but it does make you angrier. So you take the table that was supporting the glass and hurl it in the direction of your fight-friends. They duck, and it breaks apart with a thunk and a clatter.
It feels fantastic.
Your fight-friends have not kept the small you safe, and they will feel your rage. You roar and start to barrel in their direction. They are already out the puny door, which becomes a Hulk-sized hole in the wall as you smash through it. You hear them moving to your left and continue to run. They have a lot of distance ahead of you, but you know you’ll catch up quickly.
“JARVIS, is the containment elevator ready?” says fight-friend Tony, who is not in his armor, but you recognize his voice.
“Yes, sir,” says the sky-voice.
“Wait,” says fight-friend Nat (she’s the small you’s favorite, and your favorite too). “Jarvis, open the regular elevator doors.”
“We can’t fit the Hulk in the unspelled elevator!” says fight-friend Steve.
“Trust me,” says Nat.
By now you’ve caught up and they have no place to go except the tiny room. They all stand just in front of it, and you lunge for them. All of them move out of the way as your head goes into the small room.
You barrel through your fight-friends and through the wall, and go towards a place where you can see large windows and natural light. You ignore the couches and chairs and stacks of books you run through and immediately begin to pound your fists against the windows. It’ll take a little time for them to give way, but nothing can withstand your fists and your rage for very long, and they’ve already begun to groan and crack.
You feel something hit you on the back of your head. You turn around and see your three fight-friends, spread out. Any of them could have thrown the book that hit the back of your head, and you are very angry about it.
Fight-friend Nat immediately runs for the hallway. You hear the other fight-friends shouting behind you but don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying. Nat gets to the end of the hallway, where there’s a small room with the doors already open. Nat runs inside, and you dive in after her.
Fight-friend Tony bolts for the hallway before you can grab him. He’s slippery, but not very fast. He seems to be trying to get you to the little room that takes you to the big quiet room, but you grin with the knowledge that he won’t make it in time. Just as you reach out and almost close your fingers around him, he banks right, through a doorway and down a set of stairs. You take a moment to tear another Hulk-sized hole in the Tower to barrel after him, and then another when he goes through another door two floors down. By the time you catch up, he’s in his shiny shell, and he’s firing hurt-light at your face. Which, of course, makes you furious.
You lunge after him and while he flies to dodge, you manage to hit the bottoms of his hurt-light-shoes, which causes him to fly through and shatter the giant windows on this floor. You’re about to lunge after him when you feel strong arms close around your neck, the same strong arms that tried to drag away the small you.
“I’ve got this, Steve!” shouts Tony, who is now buzzing around you.
“Like… hell…” Steve grits out as he continues to latch on to you, ignoring the times you’ve slammed your back against various hard objects.
Eventually you start to get dizzy. A moment later you lose your footing and start to stumble.
“No!” shouts Nat just as you stumble out the window.
You feel air whoosh by your face. You’re vaguely aware of Steve letting go and the whine of repulsors. But then there’s literally an earth-shattering SLAM!
You don’t move for a few seconds as you process how much that hurt. But when you hear the repulsor whine a few feet away, you get very angry again and start to stand up.
“Will you let me handle it this time? I have a plan, believe it or not,” says Tony.
“Yeah. Just… give me a second to catch my breath,” says Steve as he lies on the pavement. Those hits you gave him up in the building seem to have caught up to him.
“Steve? Steve!” cries Tony as he kneels down next to Steve, lying on the ground.
The small you would no doubt find it touching. You find it enraging. You’re about to roar when you hear, “Whoa, there big guy!”
You turn and see Nat, with her hands raised in what appears to be a calming gesture.
“Heyyy buddy,” says Nat carefully. “It’s good to see you again. I know you’re here because you thought Bruce was in danger. But he’s not. I swear to you, he’s not in danger from us.”
A low, guttural growl escapes your lips.
“But, this is important,” says Nat hastily, “Bruce is in danger. The kind of danger you can’t protect him from. Magic danger. All of us are. And we need him to get out of it, alright? If we’re going to keep Bruce safe, we have to talk to him, to get his help. But the danger you can protect him from? That’s passed. And you’ve made your point. Steve won’t ever try anything like that ever again,” says Nat.
You don’t fully understand everything she’s saying, but you do feel calmed by her words. You feel the small you start to take over, and you decide to let him. After all, if the small you comes into danger again, you’re never far away.
You ignore Natasha and barrel after Tony and Steve. Tony flies up and fires a hurt-light at your face. You immediately forget about Steve and chase after him.
“That’s right, big guy, follow me,” says Tony as he flies ahead of you.
You run after him for a couple of blocks, smashing through cars and tourist buses and street lights in your way, leaving a wake of destruction behind you. Eventually you come to a park and the wake of destruction picks up trees, bushes, and benches. Then the things in front of you all give way at once as you reach a clearing.
Before you is a pond. Tony is hovering over it, and beneath him are—
“Ducks,” you say and you find yourself sitting down hard on the ground.
“Yeah, I knew the ducks would get you, big guy,” says Tony, as he flies over next to you, then sits down with you.
You stay like that for a little while, just watching the ducks. A blonde woman in a green dress passes by and scoffs at you, and you almost get angry again, but then Tony points out a row of ducklings coming out from under the bridge and you’re back to appreciating the waterfowl. The small you starts to feel stronger. You know you’ve made your point about protecting the small you from the fight-friends’ forces. So you close your eyes and think of ducks as your body starts to shrink.
You wake up and the first thing you see is open sky.
“Banner’s back. Meet me back on his floor, we’ll head into the elevator together. Grab a tee shirt for Bruce,” says the mechanical voice of Tony in the Iron Man suit. You groan.
“What set me off this time?” you say weakly.
“Steve tried to force you somewhere you didn’t want to go,” says Tony as he reaches down to help you up.
“What? Why?” you ask as you take his hand and stand up.
“Tell you when we get back to the tower. There’s something in the elevator you need to see,” says Tony as you step onto his boot. Minutes later you’re back on your floor of the tower, peering into the regular elevator, with Steve, Nat, and Tony at your back.
“I don’t see anything,” you say.
“There’s a really weird bug,” says Natasha. “It’s up in the corner you can’t see from out here. We wanted it to be a surprise. I’d’ve just let it go, but Steve really wanted to make sure you didn’t miss it. He won’t do anything that stupid again, though, will he?”
“No,” said Steve, sounding appropriately chastised.
You’re fully aware Nat’s story is probably bullshit, but even the slightest possibility of seeing a weird bug is enough to tempt you to enter the elevator and see for yourself.
You grab at Steve, but he’s strong enough to push your hand away and run down the length of the hallway. Behind you there’s the sound of your other fight-friends shouting, but your quarry is in your sight. He runs to the large room you recognize as the one that can take you to the quiet place. You do not want to go to the quiet place. You want to smash Steve. You’re about to turn away, not taking the bait, when you feel something else hit the side of your head: a shoe, thrown by Steve.
You bellow with rage and lunge into the room. Steve jumps out at the last second and the doors slam, and you feel the room plunging down until it abruptly halts and opens into the quiet room. Your rage is endless, and you promptly take it out on the floors, the ceiling, the walls, everything. Some time later, you find yourself sitting in a corner, too angry to think of what to try smashing next. You feel the small you starting to come back, and you decide to let him. You’ve had a good smash, and the fight-friends know better than to hurt the small you. So you close your eyes and feel yourself start to shrink.
“How about we go out instead?” says Tony as you walk toward the lab doors. “Been meaning to try out that new Ethiopian place up the block. My treat.”
“Nah, the lunch meat’s gonna go bad if I don’t eat it soon. And I know you don’t care about that, Tony, but Steve makes puppy-dog eyes whenever we waste food, and my heart can’t take it.”
“You know, just this once, I think Tony’s right. Ethiopian sounds really good right now,” says Steve.
You squint hard at him.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Steve Rogers?” you ask, only half joking.
“Same old me. I just really want to try Ethiopian food today,” says Steve brightly.
You briefly consider the likelihood of a Skrull taking over Steve, but you dismiss the possibility when you realize Steve’s revulsion for food waste would probably be item number two in whatever packet they would study to impersonate him correctly, right after ‘is hopelessly in love with Tony but is being a huge idiot about it.’
“Alright, you go on over and get Ethiopian. I need to keep this break short. I’ve got a lot of work to do before I call it a day, and I don’t want to go too far or take too long.”
Tony looks like he’s going to object, but Steve cuts in with a, “You know what? Sandwiches sound great. Let’s go make some.”
You lead them to the kitchen and make a stack of ham sandwiches, which everyone devours greedily. Tony, Nat and Steve all seem to be covertly whispering something to each other as they eat. Something about, “All of these options are terrible” and “Try them anyway.”
“Guys, I’m serious about going to get Ethiopian food if you want it. I can feed the extra sandwiches to the hissing cockroaches. Been a while since I gave them a treat,” you say.
“You… Bruce, tell me there isn’t a tank of cockroaches in my tower,” says Tony.
“I mean, I could tell you that. But I would be lying,” you say with a grin.
Tony looks ready to blow his top, but then Steve says, “Hey Bruce, why don’t we go down to the gym and spar?”
“Spar? I thought we agreed sparring with the other guy was exclusively a middle-of-nowhere activity after what happened last time with the hammer and the donut shop,” you say.
“Yes. Yes we did,” says Steve glumly, before he immediately says, “Hey Bruce, why don’t we go swimming on the pool floor?”
“Yes. Yes, Bruce, there’s a surprise party. I know you have work to do, but could you come, please?” says Steve.
“Whose party is it?” you ask.
“...Yours?” says Tony uncertainly.
“Mine? My birthday’s not till December,” you say.
“Don’t listen to Tony, he’s an idiot,” says Natasha. “The party’s for Coulson. Having Captain America show up to his birthday party has been his dream since he was five, and we figured we owed him one after the IKEA incident.”
“Really? Ow! Yeah, of course,” says Steve. “Anyway, we didn’t want to bug you with details since you’re busy in the lab, but would you mind coming up to the party for a little bit, just to make an appearance?”
“Sure, but I can’t stay long.”
“No thanks, I just want to finish this sandwich and get back to the lab. Give Coulson my regards.”
You finish the rest of your sandwich and head over to the elevator.
“Oh shoot, I don’t have a card or anything,” you say.
“Don’t worry about it, Steve’s got a card we’re all signing,” says Tony.
“Oh, ok. At least tell me what we got him as a gift so I’m not surprised when I see it,” says Bruce.
“It… is… a… tie,” says Tony. “Yep, it’s a tie. You know how Coulson just… loves ties.”
“Just one? From all of us?” says Bruce.
“It’s a really nice, expensive tie,” says Natasha as the elevator doors open.
“It’s reversible,” says Steve.
“No, because reversible ties are tacky as hell,” says Tony.
“They are not,” says Steve.
“Steve, if I ever see you wearing a reversible tie I am cutting it off with scissors,” says Tony.
You roll your eyes and privately resolve to get Coulson a better gift later as you step into the elevator.
You go back to eating your sandwich contentedly. Tony sighs.
“We’re getting nowhere. C’mon, I think the main character’s whoever gets out of the elevator first. Let’s go reset with me driving and see if we get better options,” he says.
“What?” you say.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it Bruce,” says Tony quickly. “I just… need to talk to Steve and Nat about something real quick. Back in a sec.”
They leave momentarily.
“JARVIS?” you say. “What the hell is going on?”
“Please narrow request parameters,” says JARVIS.
“Why are Steve, Tony and Nat acting so weird?” you ask.
“Please define normal behavior for Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark, and Ms. Romanov,” says JARVIS.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” you say with a chuckle. You’re confident that whatever’s going on isn’t malicious, so you might as well roll with whatever weird practical joke they’re playing.
A few seconds later, they’re back in the kitchen and Tony’s saying, “Bruce, did you see that paper Connors just put out on folding space?”
“What? No it wasn’t,” says Tony.
“His p-value’s fine for working at the quantum level,” says Tony with a wave of his hand.
“Just because the particles are small doesn’t mean statistical significance matters any less, Tony.”
“Well, by that metric, gamma radiation producing a Hulk isn’t sound science, because it only happened once.”
“It isn’t sound science. There’s a reason nobody’s made any more Hulks, Tony, other than the fact that the other guy’s not exactly amenable to experimentation,” you say. Even the merest thought of subjecting the Hulk to experiments is enough to make the Other Guy rumble somewhere in your brain.
“But it did happen, or are you gonna deny the statistical significance of that?” says Tony.
You and Tony get to discussing statistical significance in quantum mechanics for about ten minutes before a yelp from Tony reminds you there are other people in the room.
“Ah! Nat! What the hell, I was about twenty layers of choices in! We were getting somewhere!” says Tony, as he tries unsuccessfully to bat Nat’s hand away from where it’s now pinching his ear.
“No we weren’t,” says Nat, who is pulling Tony by the ear toward the hallway. “C’mon, my turn to drive.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head as Nat, Tony and Steve disappear down the hallway toward the elevator bank. This is definitely the weirdest prolonged prank you’ve ever been a part of, and you hope your friends get to the punchline soon.
A few seconds later, everyone’s back in the kitchen and Nat says, “Hey Bruce. There’s a really weird bug in the elevator. Want to come take a look?”
You are already on your way to the elevator to see the weird bug.
“I’ve got a new suit down in the lab based on it. If it works, I’ll be able to condense the suit down to something that’d make Hank Pym cry. If it doesn’t… well, I’d say let’s not worry about it, but Steve will probably get really upset if the suit folds down to the size of an atom with me still inside it. Want to check my math?”
“Tony, that paper was garbage. What were you thinking?”
“You know I’ll never say no to a chance to catch you in a math mistake.”
“Of course. You’re one of my closest friends. I’m always available to help keep you safe.”
“I mean, there’s not gonna be any mistakes,” Tony says with his usual swagger.
“Oh really?” you say as you finish your sandwich and stand up. “And that off-by-one error I found in your chest repulsor code was—”
“Put in by JARVIS, not me,” says Tony.
“Mmhmm. And who programmed JARVIS, Tony?” you say as the four of you walk toward the elevator.
“Oh, I have no idea. I found him in a box of kittens on the street one day and just didn’t have the heart to leave him there,” says Tony.
“Sir is very generous to AI’s without a place to call home,” says Jarvis drolly, as In the Arms of An Angel plays in the background.
All of you are laughing as you step into the elevator.
“Oh,” says Tony, who is now looking everywhere in the room except at you and shifting from foot to foot. “Um. Thank you.”
You chuckle a bit and say, “Nat, why are all of our friends so emotionally constipated?”
“I don’t know, Bruce,” she says with a shake of her head.
“You know, Tony, ah… I’m always here to help keep you safe too,” says Steve with a blush as you all walk down the hallway toward the elevator. “I mean, we all are.”
“Careful, Steve. Keep that up and you might talk about some actual feelings there,” you say.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” says Steve.
You’re about to return another innuendo, but Nat shoots you a look you’re intimately familiar with: the “let them figure it out for themselves” look. So instead you roll your eyes and say, “Nothing. C’mon, let’s go make sure Tony doesn’t accidentally fold himself into an alternate dimension.”
Your last thought before you step into the elevator is God, I love my idiot friends.
Bruce had woken up face-down and semi-naked in more places than he could count, although this was the first time he’d done it in an elevator. How the hell had the other guy even fit inside?
“We dragged you in here while you were still unconscious,” said Natasha’s voice from above, as if reading his mind.
Bruce pulled himself into a sitting position and blinked at the three blobs outlined in the bright lights of the elevator. One leaned down and put a pair of glasses on his face, and the forms of Steve, Tony and Nat came into sharp focus. Nat also pressed a tee shirt into his hand.
“Ah… why?” asked Bruce as he pulled the shirt over his head. It was Tony’s Christmas present from last year, and it read, “Call me DNA helicase, because I’m unzipping those genes.” That’s what I get for feeling too guilty to throw it out, Bruce thought dully.
“Your turn at the explaining wheel, Nat,” said Tony.
Ten minutes of explanation later, Bruce was leaning against the elevator bar, taking it all in.
“Before we continue, Nat, would you do the honors?” said Bruce.
Nat hit the back of Steve’s head with an audible smack.
“Yeah, I deserved that,” murmured Steve, rubbing the back of his head.
“You deserved a lot more than that,” said Bruce. “I could’ve killed you, you moron.”
“I thought going back to the elevator meant giving up on rescuing you!” said Steve indignantly.
“No one’s denying you’re a very noble moron, but you’re a moron all the same,” said Bruce.
“Is this what it’s like for all of you when Steve’s yelling at me?” said Tony. “This is… wow, the not-a-moron high ground is great, I’m never leaving here again.”
“I give it a week,” said Natasha.
“Alright, now that we’ve established that Steve’s used up his dumbass decisions quota for the next forever, we’d better keep going. Whatever whammied the tower didn’t do it for fun,” said Bruce.
“Hope there’s food in Thor’s universe. I’m getting hungry,” said Tony and everyone else murmured their agreement as Nat pushed the button for Thor’s floor.
End of chapter
Bruce awoke slumped and held up against something that felt like a pillar of muscles.
“Thor?” he said, taking a stab in the dark as he pushed away and found his feet to stand up straight.
“Wrong beefcake,” said Tony’s voice behind him. “Don’t worry, we’re getting him next.”
Bruce started to take stock of the situation. He was in the tower elevator (the regular one). He’d just pushed away from Steve, and Tony and Natasha were looking him over with matching you’re safe, please don’t hulk out expressions. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“The other guy’s not coming, you can stop worrying,” said Bruce. Then his thoughts caught up to him and he said, “Wait, I’m— the other guy wasn’t just here, was he? Did you dress me or something?”
“No,” said Steve. “You… Nat, I think it’s your turn to explain.”
Ten minutes of explanation later, Bruce was rubbing his chin in thought.
“Well, thank you for not trying to drag me into the elevator against my will. That would’ve ended poorly,” said Bruce.
“We’re not idiots,” said Steve.
“So what now? Get everybody else and search the tower for the artifact?” asked Bruce.
“That’s the plan,” said Natasha.
“I’m just glad we stopped for food first,” said Tony, “Thanks for the sandwiches, Bruce. I’m stuffed.”
Everyone else murmured their agreement as Natasha pressed the button for Thor’s floor.
End of chapter
Bruce awoke slumped and held up against something that felt like a pillar of muscles.
“Steve?” he said, taking a stab in the dark as he pushed away and found his feet to stand up straight.
“Yeah. Doing ok, Bruce?” Steve asked tentatively.
Bruce straightened up and took stock of his situation. He was clothed, in an elevator with Steve, Nat and Tony, and he had been unconscious a moment ago.
“What the hell happened?” he asked. “And why do I feel like there should be a cool bug in here?”
Tony and Steve immediately stiffened and looked around the elevator for insects. Nat just smiled, shook her head, and said, “Let’s see if I can give you the short version.”
Ten minutes of explanation later, Bruce asked, “How long have you been sitting on the ‘weird bug’ excuse to get me out of the lab?”
“About a year. But you’re much better about getting out and taking a break than Tony is, so I haven’t needed it ‘til today,” said Nat.
“I won’t take it personally then,” said Bruce. Then he turned to the group and said, “Sounds like there’s nothing to do but keep collecting Avengers. Onward and upward?”
“Onward and upward,” confirmed Steve with a press of the elevator button for Thor’s floor.
End of chapter
The year is 2030. You’re standing on a pile of rubble that used to be the Empire State building. Judging by the position of the stars, first watch is about to end, and you’re looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep, albeit with an empty belly. For a moment, you think back to your old life, when you used to look up and long to see the stars in New York City. You belatedly wish you’d combed the tower for a monkey’s paw.
You walk back down the pile of rubble to where your friends (what’s left of them) are sleeping around the remains of a fire, and shake one of the bundles of blankets awake. Nat grabs your wrist the moment you touch her shoulder, but years of this routine has converted her instinct from kill-on-touch to just this. You’ll never admit it, but her hand on your wrist is the most human contact you usually get these days. Part of you looks forward to it.
“All quiet, Nat,” you say gently, as you watch her eyes go from fearful to hopeful to stony in a flash. She must’ve been dreaming of the good old days.
“Thanks, Bruce,” she says as she pushes down the threadbare blankets and stretches.
For a moment, neither of you does anything but sit there, looking into the embers of the fire.
“Bruce,” says Natasha, and her voice is thick with emotion. She must’ve been dreaming of the really good old days. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” you say.
She turns to you, her eyes sparkling with tears and starlight and firelight, and says, “How do you put it behind you? That decision you made that started all of this, putting hot sauce on your sandwich, how can you—”
“Nat,” you say, barely choking out her name over the familiar guilt you feel, rising in your throat. You take a moment to collect yourself and continue, “I regret it every day. Every. Day. I tell myself I couldn’t have known, that none of us could have known, but—”
“It’s still your fault,” says Natasha, the sorrow now converted into anger. “All of this is your fault, Bruce.”
She gets up and stalks up to the position on top of the rubble to keep watch. You know she’ll probably apologize in the morning, but right now, her words weigh heavily on you. She’s right, of course; all of this is because of you. The death, the destruction, the devastation — all set in motion because you wanted hot sauce on your damned sandwich.
Your last thought as you drift off to sleep is, My fault. Always and forever my fault.
End of entire story
Chapter 11
Notes:
I got a lot of comments praising the skin I used for the last chapter. I didn't want to leave a note there since notes wouldn't disappear as you scrolled down, but while I did have to hook up all the routes through the fanfic, I can't take credit for making that skin. You can find the CYOA skin instructions here.
The skin for the next couple of chapters, on the other hand, was all me. A billion thanks to lomku, for the AMAZING "About Me" drawing. You can find lomku's AO3 here.
Chapter Text
Welcome to ValChallah!
Vegan Three Bean ChiliI simply cannot believe that the Midgardian season of Fall is already upon us! Why, it seems only yesterday I was partaking in the Spring fertility festival of Easter with my beloved Jane and her family in the great city of Ann Arbor! But alas, Fall has come, and so it is time to turn toward the warm, heartier recipes of the colder months. I had planned to make a roast this week, but my dearest friends the Avengers came to visit (except for Clint, who is recovering in medical at the moment). And since Dr. Banner is a vegetarian, now seems to be a great time to share with you my unbelievably easy (and vegan!) three-bean chili recipe, adapted from this recipe here. 
This recipe is so incredibly easy, part of me shudders at the idea of calling it a recipe. When I asked my dear friend Tony what he thought, his reply was, “Oh my God, you’re a recipe blogger. Guys, we’re in a recipe blog. Thor, the only man I know who can burn a salad, is running a recipe blog, and now we’re in it too. This is hilarious.” (Tony does tend to go on strange tangents. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe such a genius can be as dense as this, but I’ve seen his workshop with my own eyes. While Midgard is still far behind my own home in terms of technology, he is quite brilliant for his time). Like all chili recipes, it is easy to swap out an ingredient here or there and still get a delicious and hearty meal, but one thing I’ve learned is that if one intends to keep it vegan, DO NOT SUBSTITUTE THE COCOA POWDER! For reasons I cannot explain, cocoa powder seems to be the difference between something that tastes like bean soup versus something that actually tastes like chili. It adds that elusive smokey, umami flavor profile that tends to be lacking in vegetarian dishes on the whole. 
Also, while there is certainly room to play around with the type of beans used, the amount should probably stay the same. Beans add that toothy fullness quality that beef usually provides in a chili recipe. I’m pleased to say when I served this at our impromptu dinner party, it was met with rave reviews! “Can we keep this version of Thor that can cook?” — Tony “I’m with Tony on this one. Anybody can swing a hammer, but figuring out vegetarian chili that doesn’t taste like sad beans in sad bean water is like finding El Dorado in the vegetarian world. The fact that it’s vegan makes it even more unbelievable.” — Bruce “It’s... ok, yes, this is delicious, but let’s not lose sight of why we’re here.” — Steve “Hey Thor, this is so good we should bring some to Clint. How about we serve up an extra bowl and ride the elevator to medical to give it to him?” — Natasha Of course that was when my beloved Jane came back from her work, so Clint will have to wait for another recipe to try, but luckily, dear reader, you don’t! 
Vegan Three Bean Chili
This chili recipe is sure to warm your bones and fill your belly. Truly a feast fit for the warriors of Asgard and a cozy night in.
prep time:
10 minutes
cook time:
4-7 hours
servings:
6
Ingredients
Instructions
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About Me
Hello! I'm Thor, and I am simply delighted you've decided to partake in my recipes! Here you'll find everything from week-night dinners to special occasion sweets for the whole family to enjoy. Past Recipes |
Comments
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YouKnowWhoIAm Well, this definitely wins for the weirdest medium we’ve been in so far, although I think Nat still wins for the weirdest genre. Any of you guys feeling weirdly incorporeal right now? |
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CallMeDarcy FIRST |
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CatNat Yep. I think we’ve reached the comments section. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Nat, why are you a cat? |
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CatNat I like cats. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Oh man, I cannot wait to see what Steve and Bruce have as their handles and avatars. |
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steve_rogers TEST |
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YouKnowWhoIAm
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DrBanner Some of us don't live online, Tony. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Ok I’m not surprised Steve went for the bland and functional, but I am so disappointed in you, Bruce. “StopBannerTime” was RIGHT THERE! Or “BruceyImHome” or “BruceTracks”. You’ve got at least fifty different levels of pun possibilities and you go with “DrBanner”? |
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steve_rogers Focus. We need to figure out how to get Thor into the elevator. Any ideas? |
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CatNat We could suggest a picnic. That’s recipe blog gold, and he’d have to leave the building to do that. |
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steve_rogers Worth a shot, I guess. How do we um… do that? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm I think we have to wait until the next blog post, Steve. I dunno, I’ve never had my entire essence distilled into an internet comments section before. |
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DangerStrange I served this at my cult potluck and everyone just loved it! Thank you so much for sharing! |
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steve_rogers You guys are right, this is extremely weird. |
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Welcome to ValChallah!
Chocolate Crinkle CookiesRemember my friends, the Avengers? One of them, Natasha, had an absolutely marvelous idea: that we should all go on a picnic in Central Park! Picnics are one Midgardian tradition that I really wish we had in Asgard. Where I grew up, food is either functional, or it’s a feast. Midgard has so many wonderfully nuanced and delightful ways to consume food: in restaurants, at themed parties, from food trucks, and at festivals... alright, we do have festivals in Asgard, too, but every day in New York City there is a festival for something somewhere, whether it’s Pickle-fest or a Puerto Rican pride parade or Food Truck week. Asgard only has two major festivals and three minor festivals every year, mostly because we have so many feasts instead. But Midgard has such a marvelous diversity of culinary cultures it makes much more sense to have more specifically themed festivals, and the result is some truly exquisite cuisine. 
Pictured: An example of some exquisite Midgardian cuisine from the New York City Taco-fest Unfortunately, just as we were about to head to the elevator, there was a clap of thunder and I could see the rain pouring against the windows. And while my friends begged me to use my powers to clear out the weather, interfering in the climate when there isn’t an emergency is a recipe for disaster. And I’d much rather partake in much yummier recipes, like this one for Chocolate Crinkle cookies! 
I found this recipe on a now-defunct food blog several years ago. These cookies strike that perfect balance between cakey and chewy, and that tiniest hint of cinnamon really brings out the chocolate. 
I had made these cookies for the picnic, although they can certainly be enjoyed on any occasion. And it turns out that picnic was not quite cancelled. I was informed by my friend Bruce that the spirit of a Midgardian picnic is in consuming food somewhere outside your typical eating places. Not being Midgardian, I took him at his word, but I did have to nix his suggestion that we lay down the blanket in the tower’s elevator. Between myself and Steve, we simply wouldn’t fit! Then Steve suggested we take the elevator to the gym, but I really didn’t want a smelly gym to be the backdrop for eating sandwiches and rosehip iced tea and cookies, but then it hit me: why not have a picnic on my own living room floor? All in all, the experience was quite fun and memorable, no less because of these delightful little cookies. Now, a few tips concerning the chocolate:
These cookies also have an excellent track record of bringing budding lovers together! It’s one of the first recipes I made for Jane when we were just getting together, and look where we are now! Here’s hoping it works on two members of this team with enough unspoken longing to be one of my beloved Jane’s romance novels ;) And now, without further ado, here is one of my favorite cookie recipes! 
Chocolate Crinkle Cookies
These cookies will conquer the mightiest sweet tooth and leave you wishing you had more!
prep time:
1 hour 30 minutes
cook time:
10-12 minutes
servings:
4 dozen cookies
Ingredients
Instructions
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About Me
Hello! I'm Thor, and I am simply delighted you've decided to partake in my recipes! Here you'll find everything from week-night dinners to special occasion sweets for the whole family to enjoy. Past Recipes |
Comments
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SerikElvig This recipe needs work. I substituted all of the ingredients for ground beef and taco seasoning mix, and instead of rolling the end result in powdered sugar and putting it in the oven, I cooked it over the stove top and served it in a tortilla. It tasted nothing like chocolate cookies! |
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WelcomeToValChallah I'm sorry to hear this recipe didn't work out for you! |
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steve_rogers Thor? What were you talking about in that last paragraph? |
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DrBanner
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CatNat Let them figure it out on their own, boys. |
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steve_rogers Let who figure what out? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm I think they mean you and me, Steve. We never really did talk about what happened on Nat’s floor. |
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CatNat Something happened on my floor? |
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DrBanner I was referring to everything that’s happened before this whole spell business, but now I want to know what happened on Nat’s floor too. |
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steve_rogers It's nothing important. Can we focus on the task at hand, please? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm ...nothing important? |
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DrBanner
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CatNat
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steve_rogers Can we talk about this later, Tony? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Fine. |
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steve_rogers Just seeing “fine” in a comment format makes me think you’re not fine, Tony. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing important. |
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CatNat
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steve_rogers Why do you always do this, Tony? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Do what, Cap? |
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steve_rogers Pick stupid stupid fights with me. Flirt with me. Avoid me. Kiss me. It’s non-stop mixed signals with you, and I’m sick of it. |
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DrBanner KISS!? Is that what happened on Nat’s floor? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Don't call the tabs, it was a one-off thing to convince emo Loki that we weren’t interested in emo Nat. |
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steve_rogers actuallyithappenedonyourfloortoo |
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CatNat
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YouKnowWhoIAm I’m sorry, WHAT!? |
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steve_rogers You were pointing a gun at me! I had to distract you! |
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YouKnowWhoIAm And you did it by kissing me? What, did they not have “hey, look over there!” in the 40’s? |
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steve_rogers That wouldn’t have worked on a PI! |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Well, Steve, you picked a hell of a day to roll out your bicurious side. Pretty sure Thor's dated men before, maybe you should lay one on him too. Really get the full experience out of your straight-boy-experimentation phase. |
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steve_rogers I never said I was straight. |
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CatNat
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DrBanner
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YouKnowWhoIAm Jesus CHRIST, Steve. Got any other bombshell confessions you want to get out there? Are you a Hydra agent too? |
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steve_rogers See, this is why I never told you. You take everything I say and you turn it into one big joke, because that’s what the whole damn world is to you. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm You self-righteous |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Stuck up |
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YouKnowWhoIAm High and mighty |
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YouKnowWhoIAm All-American |
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YouKnowWhoIAm ASSHOLE |
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DrBanner Wait! Wait, guys, are you feeling something right now? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT I’M FEELING SOMETHING RIGHT NOW |
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DrBanner No, I mean, we’re in an internet comments section. You two are flaming each other, and Nat and I are egging on the drama. That’s not like any of us, but it is very on the nose for this medium. |
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CatNat Bruce is right. It’s like we’re getting pulled in. |
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steve_rogers Yeah. Yeah, I see what you mean. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Ok, yeah, I think you’re right. Agree to put a pin in this until we’re out of here, Steve? |
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steve_rogers Oh, you mean like what I was asking for from the beginning, asshole? |
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steve_rogers I’m sorry. I don’t know why I wrote that. |
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CatNat The spell is getting stronger. It’s like there’s a current to it now, guiding our actions, pulling us along if we’re not careful. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm The sooner we get out of here the better. Let’s try to get Thor to some food trucks in the next post. That’s another standby for NYC recipe bloggers. |
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steve_rogers Sounds like a plan. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Of course it sounds like a plan, idiot, it IS a plan. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Shit, sorry. |
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steve_rogers Whatever, Tony. |
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CallMeDarcy FIRST |
Notes:
Yes, Bruce's entire meme folder is Star Trek memes. No, the author did not have to look hard in her own meme folder to find them.
Chapter 13
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Welcome to ValChallah!
Vegan Rainbow Vegetable CurryToday was the two-year anniversary of the battle of New York. I don’t talk about it very much because the subject is rather painful, but every year on this day, it weighs heavily on my mind. It’s not every day one’s own brother does something that hurts so many people, several of whom I’m privileged to call my friends. Part of me hopes they can forgive me for not stopping Loki before he brought so much death and destruction to a planet I’ve come to think of as my second home. Part of me wonders if they even should. I had vowed that this planet was under my protection, and I failed. Can you forgive something like that? 
Pictured: Some of the aftermath from the Battle of New York On days like this, I like to have my friends and the people I love close to me, and at their insistence I had planned an evening out on the town, sampling the best food trucks of New York City with my friends and my beloved Jane, but of course I couldn’t, since Amora was coming over for dinner tonight. When I told my friends that sadly our plans would have to wait, I realized I’d have to fill them in. For the readers who are new to this blog, Amora (or as she’s known to her enemies, simply “Enchantress”) is a powerful Asgardian sorceress. Before I came to Midgard, I once faced off against her in a battle to enslave the minds of the entire population of a minor planet. I had thought she was serving a life sentence in Asgard’s dungeons, but she must have either escaped or gotten released, because now she comes here frequently to have dinner with Jane and myself. You can see previous accounts of dinners with Amora in my blog entries for dijon garlic pork tenderloin, rainbow cupcakes, vegetarian lettuce wraps and lemon poppyseed scones. 
Pictured: Amora the Enchantress “Now we know who the ringmaster is for this circus,” my friend Tony said (I promise he’s not crazy, just very, very eccentric!). “Thor, if Enchantress is your enemy, why do you keep having her over for dinner?” my friend Natasha asked me, although I can’t imagine the reason. Why in Odin’s name shouldn’t one have people over for dinner? Is that not the entire point? Of everything??? And at the end of the day, her critiques always push me to make better and better recipes for this blog! In any event, that was when my friends went off to go discuss their meeting with Enchantress and I was free to get to work planning dinner. Since Dr. Banner was joining us again, I decided to dust off another old standby: Vegetarian (and Vegan!) Rainbow Vegetable Curry adapted from this recipe. 
Honestly, the pictures don’t do it justice (and I remain a learner in the realm of food photography). The reds and yellows of the peppers, the green of the kale, the orange of the carrots and the sauce... the end result is always so visually arresting. And then there’s the taste! If one is looking for a way to make vegetables the star of a dinner dish, I cannot recommend this recipe enough. 
Sadly, I can’t say what the Avengers or Enchantress had to say about this recipe. Apparently my friends decided to try attacking her the moment she came through the floor, which resulted in a lot of scorch marks on the wall, broken furniture, and the whole pot of curry splattered all over the new carpet! There were also some words exchanged… just the usual battle banter, but I’ve been told my readers enjoy hearing some more about my work as a superhero, so here’s what I can remember. “So nice to finally speak with all of you directly. I was so disappointed when I hadn’t captured all of you this morning, but it was very kind of you to jump in the spell yourself, Captain.” — Enchantress “You can’t keep us here. We will find a way out.” —Steve “If I believed that for a moment, all of you would be dead where you stand. It’s been so informative, watching all of you running around my little maze, but I think I’ll watch from a distance now. Thor is such a domestic delight here, but I have a feeling you won’t let us enjoy our little feasts in peace.” —Enchantress “Where’s the artifact, you discount David Copperfield?” —Tony After that it was a lot of promising they’ll never find it, promising they will, then some more fighting for good measure. Honestly, I can’t remember much else because that was around when the curry pot was tipped over and I was so devastated I stopped paying attention. Enchantress and the Avengers never got the chance to try my curry, which means if you try this curry recipe, I want to hear about it in the comments! Let my friends (and Enchantress) know what they missed out on! 
Rainbow Vegetable Curry
This curry is a beautiful and tasty way to make vegetables the star of the dinner table.
prep time:
30 minutes
cook time:
30 minutes
servings:
8
Ingredients
Instructions
|
About Me
Hello! I'm Thor, and I am simply delighted you've decided to partake in my recipes! Here you'll find everything from week-night dinners to special occasion sweets for the whole family to enjoy. Past Recipes |
Comments
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YouKnowWhoIAm Well, this sucks. |
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WelcomeToValChallah I'm sorry to hear this recipe didn't work out for you! |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Not the curry, idiot, the fact we’re all stuck here because the wicked witch of Asgard dropped our own house on us! |
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WelcomeToValChallah I’m glad the curry recipe isn’t the problem then! Please report back if you end up trying it! |
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YouKnowWhoIAm I take back everything I said about keeping the Thor who can cook. |
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CallMeDarcy FIRST |
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YouKnowWhoIAm DARCY STOP TRYING TO COMMENT FIRST YOU ARE REALLY BAD AT IT |
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CatNat I doubt she’s coming back any time soon. She made her point, and in her mind we’re all safely trapped. I wonder why she said watching us was “informative.” I would’ve expected “enjoyable.” What information is she getting from us being here? |
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steve_rogers Thank you for not hulking out, Bruce. Thor might’ve kicked us out if we smashed up his kitchen as well as his dining room. |
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DrBanner I was really looking forward to that curry. It smelled really good, and coconut milk and ginger is just such a natural combination! Thank you so much for sharing this recipe! |
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DrBanner Oops. |
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CatNat It is so hard not to ask a question about the best way to de-seed a bell pepper right now. |
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steve_rogers Let’s stick to the plan we had and try again to get Thor to go to a bunch of food trucks. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Actually, I have a better idea. |
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steve_rogers Let’s hear it, then. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Oh NOW you want to hear from me. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm God dammit. I promise I’m not trying to start a flame war, it’s just like I’m getting pulled under by the current here. |
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steve_rogers I know, Tony. My brain is screaming at me to tell you how much I want to kiss your stupid fat mouth, but we need to push through this. |
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CatNat That’s… not typically what people say in a flame war, Steve. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Yeah, I’d love to add how badly I want to shove you against a wall and lick that arrogant smirk right off your face, but I guess that’s not important right now. |
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steve_rogers Are you ever going to let that go? |
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DrBanner STOP WRITING |
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steve_rogers Bruce is right. We need to focus. |
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DrBanner No, stop writing! Or at least stop writing out our plans here. She said she’d be watching, right? What if our last plan didn’t fail because of bad luck? What if she’s reading the comments? |
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Leet form of the word "Enchantress" xXx3nch4n72355xXx You can either plan or not plan here, it makes no difference to me. |
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CatNat Crap, Bruce was right. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Hey Enchantress, 2004 called to say that even in 2004, leet 1337 was stupid. |
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steve_rogers How are we going to get out of this if we can’t discuss a plan to get out of this? |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Do you trust me, Steve? |
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steve_rogers Yes. Unreservedly. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Then let me handle it, sweetcheeks. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Asshole. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Sugarbear. |
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YouKnowWhoIAm Damn, this is confusing. |
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steve_rogers I KNOW. |
Notes:
"Hey Gogglor, did you foreshadow Enchantress as the villain" SURE DID ON EVERY FLOOR GO BACK AND SEE FOR YOURSELF
Chapter 14
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Welcome to ValChallah!
Nonna Foster's MeatballsBy Odin’s beard, I’m so excited I can barely type! Do you remember my dear friend Tony, the eccentric one? Yes, his eccentricities can be quite strange at times (you would not believe the places I’ve found him falling asleep after many hours of inventing in his laboratory. Once, I saw him kneel down to tie his shoes and moments later he was snoring with his head on his knee, still kneeling!) but he has a very kind, and generous heart. He’s been known to show it in the form of spontaneous and extravagant gifts from time to time. Well, I’m delighted to say I’ve just been on the receiving end of one such gift. Tony has just offered to fly me, my beloved Jane, and all of the rest of our little Avengers family to Rome! 
Italian food is one of my favorite cuisines that I’ve discovered since I’ve come to Midgard, and the Foster family recipe book is a huge part of that. Jane’s family on her mother’s side is Italian (actually Sicilian — I’ve been told the distinction is important!). Her great-great-grandparents immigrated to America at the start of the twentieth century and settled in an Italian neighborhood outside of Philadelphia, and they've been passing down delicious recipes incorporating the taste of the old world with the available ingredients of the new world over five generations. 
I am delighted to share this recipe from the Foster family cook book with all of you before I set off for Rome this very night (Tony was quite insistent we leave as soon as possible. Eccentricity, remember?). I have just enough time to post this before the flight leaves, although not enough time to cook it (please excuse the lack of pictures). Rome, here I come!
Nonna Foster's Meatballs
These meatballs are a marvelous complement to a marinara sauce, or delicious to eat on their own.
prep time:
20 minutes
cook time:
30 minutes
servings:
10
Ingredients
Instructions
|
About Me
Hello! I'm Thor, and I am simply delighted you've decided to partake in my recipes! Here you'll find everything from week-night dinners to special occasion sweets for the whole family to enjoy. Past Recipes |
Comments
|
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CallMeDarcy FIRST |
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CallMeDarcy Yeah!!! Up yours, Stark!!! |
Thor awoke with a start on the floor of the elevator at Avengers tower.
"Free trip to Rome for a recipe blogger," said Tony with a little self-satisfied smile. "Thor never stood a chance."
“Welcome back, big guy,” said Bruce, offering his hand to help him up.
“Why am I here?” said Thor as he stood up. Then he added, “And why am I wearing an apron?”
Fifteen minutes of explanation later, Thor had turned his face to the wall to hide his deep sense of shame.
“I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I truly am sorry,” said Thor.
“Thor, this isn’t your fault,” said Steve.
Thor slammed his fist against the side of the elevator hard enough to leave an indent.
“Of course it is! If I hadn’t come to Midgard, not only would Loki never have attempted an invasion, but Enchantress wouldn’t be here settling a millennia-old score with me. I am a danger and a menace to everyone on this planet and the moment this is over—”
“You’ll what, run away?” said Tony.
There was dead silence for a moment, as everyone’s hair stood on end with a sudden abundance of static electricity.
“Don’t test me, Stark,” said Thor.
“Why? Will you run away from me too?” said Tony.
“That’s enough, Tony,” said Steve.
“You’re right. If we’re going to throw down, we shouldn’t do it in the elevator. Want to go have a flame war in the comments section? Or maybe I'll get my suit and we can see what she did to the gym. But I’ll take a brawl with you any day over you running away with your tail between your legs.”
"Stark,” breathed Thor as electricity crackled around his fingers.
Tony leaned in close and said, “I know you were off-world for my origin story, Odinson, but the long and short of it is I’ve been where you are. I’ve made choices that have led to a hell of a lot of people getting hurt. Only where you did it to protect people, I did it to make a quick buck. But one day I got wise and I could’ve done what you want to do now. I could’ve run. But I didn’t. I turned around and faced the consequences of my choices head-on. And if you can’t do that, Sparky, if you can’t face the things you’ve done like a man, then you don’t deserve to call yourself an Avenger. And you definitely don’t deserve that meat tenderizer in your hand.”
“It isn’t fair for you and the people of Midgard to suffer for the choices I’ve made,” Thor insisted.
“Life’s not fair, Thor,” said Natasha, “And if you were in Asgard right now, don’t you think Enchantress would’ve done the same thing there that she did here?”
“You’re right. There’s nowhere that’s safe from me,” said Thor.
“Well what about me?” said Bruce quietly.
Everyone looked at Bruce, who then added, “If we’re looking for the person in this elevator who most deserves to be banished to a hut on a barren asteroid where he can’t hurt anybody, I’m definitely the winner here.”
“Bruce—” said Thor.
“That’s what you believe, right? That if you’re dangerous, you don’t get a chance to try to protect people, or to be happy, or to make up for your mistakes. So who’s getting ejected off-planet first, Thor, you or me?”
“That’s enough, all of you,” said Steve. It wasn’t loud, but every syllable resonated with authority, and it was enough to bring instant silence to the elevator. Then Steve turned to Thor and said, “If you want to go off-world after we’re done here, none of us will stop you. You’re not a prisoner here. But if you’re making that decision because you think this world is better off without you, then I would ask if you feel the same way about us. You’ve saved each of our lives countless times out in the field, Thor. What we do is only possible because you’ve made sure we stayed alive to do it. And if you can’t think highly of your own actions, then at least I hope you don’t think so little of ours.”
Thor straightened up and held his head high.
“I would never disgrace your names with my shame. And I will never regret the time I have spent fighting by your side,” he said.
“Good,” said Tony, “Now let’s go get Clint so we can kick your ex-girlfriend’s ass.”
“I never said Amora and I were lovers,” said Thor.
“Weren’t you?” said Tony.
Thor said nothing.
“When we get out of here, all of us are making a list of evil exes that could potentially come and ruin our day,” said Tony as he pressed the elevator button for Clint’s floor.
“That’s going to be a long list,” said Natasha.
“Ain’t that the truth. Nat, you know Fury’s criteria for becoming an Avenger. Was ‘romantic taste for evil’ one of them?”
“I sure hope not,” said Steve.
The elevator dinged and the door opened to let everyone out, but Steve put his hand on Tony’s shoulder before he could join the others.
“I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you. We’re going to talk about what happened later,” said Steve.
“What? Oh that,” said Tony, pretending he’d forgotten but failing badly. “Yeah, that was… you deserved a much better reaction to coming out than my comments section rage, I’m sorry about that.”
“We are going to talk about what happened later,” Steve repeated. His voice was low, and there was immovable certainty in it.
Tony shivered slightly, looked back at Steve, and said, “If you ever go over to the dark side, I’m going to point to this conversation and say, ‘I told you so’.”
Steve chuckled and said, “If I ever go over to the dark side, who says I’m not taking you with me?”
And Tony really should not have found that as hot as he did.
Notes:
Yes, that's a picture of my actual recipe book.
Jane's family history is taken from my own. This recipe here is probably the way it is because meatloaf mix was cheaper and more readily available than ground veal when my great great grandmother came over to the United States. We've also had a family cannoli recipe for five generations that has 0 ricotta in it, because you couldn't get ricotta reliably back when they came to the states.
It's a part of my family's food ethos that we never, ever keep secret recipes, so if you decide to make this, know that on the other side of the pearly gates, my Mommom, my Nana, and her mother are all delighted you're eating well because of them.
This chapter is dedicated to their memory.
P.S. I haven't made this recipe in a while, and the proportions are as best as I can remember (recipes from my family tend to be of the "add however many eggs you feel like" variety). If the end result seems a bit off, sorry. The next time I make this I'll go back and make corrections.
Chapter 15
Notes:
I can't begin to tell you how excited I am to give y'all this chapter today. Words/story by yours truly, art by a guest artist who asked to remain anonymous, but holy CROW what an unbelievably amazing job they did! Please leave them some love in a comment, they absolutely deserve it for the incredible work they did with my goofy little rhyme.
For assistive tech users, there's screen reader only text describing each of the images below in lieu of alt text.
Chapter Text
The following seven images are styled and illustrated to look like a Dr. Seuss-style children's book. Steve is wearing a blue shirt with a white star, and red and white striped pants. Bruce is wearing an over-sized green shirt and purple pants. Tony is wearing a red shirt with a blue dot in the center and yellow pants. Thor is wearing red pants and a grey shirt with six white circles on it. Natasha is wearing a maroon shirt with grey pants.
Page one text:
There once were six heroes who lived in a tower, and their super-friendship was their super-power. But one day it happened, without trace or hint— Those six became five. They had lost their friend Clint.
Page one image:
Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, and Natasha all look around as though something's missing and they're searching for it. There's a conspicuous spot where Clint should be.
Page two text:
And so they went up to Clint's floor of the tower, to see if he'd slept to a very late hour. But Clint was stil missing, and they in a lurch. So these friends got together, and started to search.
Page two image:
A Seuss-ified version of Avengers tower, but in purple. There's a target on one side with arrows sticking out, a disco ball, and a bird cage dangling from the roof.
Page three and four text:
They searched under arm chairs. They searched under rugs. They searched under tables, and labels, and mugs. They searched under pillows, and under bedsprings. They searched under archery what-cha-ma-things.
Page three and four image:
The Avengers search a living room mostly decorated with purple. Bruce looks down by a small tree in a pot with a fluffy top. Thor lifts a purple striped couch to look underneath it, seeing only coins and dust-bunnies. Tony angrily tosses things over his shoulder, including Cap's shield, a pair of underpants with an A on them, and a spring, and a pillow. Steve looks at a quiver of arrows on an armchair. Natasha looks behind a television. Playing on the television are tsums of Steve and Tony, with hearts around them.
Page five text:
"We've made a mistake," said the one who's called Nat, "We'll never find Clint under sofa or mat. Our Clint is a friend who enjoys being high. We need to search higher, clear up to the sky!"
Page five image:
Natasha as seen from the waist up, pointing a finger upwards as she speaks
Page six text:
They searched over fridges and over TVs. They searched at the top of Clint's grickle-grack trees. They searched in the vents hidden over the ceiling. They searched through the cookie jars Clint had been stealing.
Page six image:
Thor sits on top of a refrigerator eating pop tarts. The fridge has on it a drawing of Tony signed "SR", magnet letters that spell "CLINT," and various magnets, and a sticky note that says 'Buy More Pop Tarts! Bruce climbs on top of a TV that shows Enchantress peeking out from behind a tree. Tony and Steve are in the vent over the ceiling. Steve is looking inside a cookie jar and frowning, Tony is looking up at a spider.
Page seven text:
"We've made a mistake," said the one who's called Thor, "We need to go higher, above clint's own floor. Our Clint is a friend who enjoys being high. We need to search higher, clear up to the sky!"
Page seven image:
Thor seen from the waist up, toughes his pointer finger to his chin as he speaks.
Page eight text:
They climbered and clambered away up the stairs, to the top of the tower, out in the clear airs. They all looked around on the top of the roof, and they hoped to see Clint standing there all aloof...
Page eight image:
Everyone is climbing over-large stairs. Natasha at the top climbs up a step. Tony behind her wipes sweat from his brow. Bruce behind him looks anxious. Steve from behind is posed with one foot on a stair above his, and is pointing upward.
Page nine text
But there was no Clint on the top of the roof. There was no Clint standing there all aloof. And since they saw neither Clint's hide nor his hair, the friends bowed their heads and began to despair.
Page nine image:
The top of Avengers tower. Tony frowns as he drops a little bird seed from a box. Thor sits with his legs between a railing, looking sad. Natasha leans over the edge of the tower to examine the bird cage hanging off of it.
Page ten text:
"Oh where could he be?" said the one who's called Steve, "He could be in Boston, or London, or Kiev. We haven't a clue, and we haven't a hint, of anywhere, any place where we'll find Clint!" "I miss him so much!" said the one who's called Bruce, "From the top of his head right down to his caboose." "We miss him so much!" They all wept and cried. "But where could be be? Oh, where could he hide?"
Page ten image:
Steve looks sadly at a map. Bruce sits with legs crossed and a hand on his face, looking dejected.
Page eleven text:
"I know our mistake," said the one who's called Tony, "We have to remember that Clint is alone-y. And if we all miss him as much as we do, then maybe, just maybe, he misses us too." "And what would Clint do?" Tony said with a smile, "If he had been missing us all of the while? He'd look for us downwards, and he would search low. So we should be searching as low as can go."
Page eleven image:
Tony smiles and points up as he speaks from the highest point on the roof.
Page 12 text:
They went down the stairwell, and down past Clint's floor, down past their own levels, past the front foor. They went down until they could go down no more, down to the bottomest, bottom-most floor. And there, rure enough, was Clint all alone. And he sighed as he spoke in a somber-most tone. "Oh I miss all my friends who like places down low. But they are not here, I've gone low as can go!"
Page 12 image:
All are walking down stairs. At the top is Bruce, carrying the bird seed box and standing next to a target with an arrow in it. Below him is Steve, holding a hand above his eyes as if to look, and in the other hand is a wrapped pop tart. Right in front of him is Thor, who is holding his hand out to Steve as if asking for the pop tart. Below them is Natasha, who is kneeling and looking concerned in front of Clint, who is sitting and hugging his knees with his eyes closed and a tear dropping down his cheek. Visible from the side of the stairs, as if in cross section, is a skeleton in the dirt, shaped like a dragon.
Page 13 text:
"We've found you!" said five of them shouting with glee. "I've found you!" said Clint, just as glad as could be. They hugged, and they couldn't believe that they'd found, their high-loving Clint, down so low in the ground.
Page 13 image:
All of the Avengers are standing next to each other very close with lots of arms around shoulders. All are looking toward Clint and smiling.
Page 14 text:
"Let's meet in the middle next time," Clint decreed. They nidded and nodded, and said they agreed. So they walked to the lift, as they giggled and chattered, all together again, and that's all that mattered.
Page 14 image:
The Avengers, all seen from behind, walk toward open elevator doors with an arrow to the side indicating they're going up.
Clint regained consciousness with his arms slung over two people’s shoulders. That usually meant there’d been an injury somewhere, but he felt strangely light, like he’d been celebrating. Was he hungover?
“That was um—” said a voice in front of him that he instantly recognized as Bruce’s.
“Delightful? I’m gonna go with delightful,” said Tony’s voice.
“I was going to say ‘really easy to get wrapped up in’, but delightful also works,” said Bruce. Then he added, “Also, the spell’s changing our clothes now. Add that to the fact that all of us were just rhyming for sixteen stanzas and I think we’ve confirmed the ‘spell’s getting stronger’ hypothesis.”
“Yeah but, we’re staying focused on our end goals,” said Tony pensively. “What if — ok, by definition, magic makes no damn sense, but if Strange said our minds are filling in the gaps of the medium when we go to a floor. Maybe it’s only getting stronger because there’s more of us thinking the same thing. More brains, more gaps that can be filled. Also explains how we’re staying focused, if it’s our own minds that are mapping the pattern.”
“Quit letting the team carry your weight, Clint,” said Natasha.
Clint opened his eyes and let himself fall from Steve’s and Thor’s shoulders down to his feet.
“Sorry, old habits,” said Clint, shrugging his shoulders. That was when he noticed that everyone was wearing what looked like Dr. Seuss versions of their combat outfits.
“Costume party or drugged? Or both?” asked Clint.
“Neither. Thor, it’s your turn to explain,” said Tony.
Fifteen minutes later, Clint was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Can we stop at Natasha’s floor again? I cannot begin to stress how badly I want to meet emo versions of the people we know. I have to see this. Please.”
“Soon. Now we’re all together, we should visit all of the non-residential floors of the Avengers suites, then each of our own floors again. We’ve got six pairs of eyes now. If we’re lucky, one of us will spot the artifact and we’ll be able to destroy it before Enchantress can stop us,” said Steve, as he pressed the button for his own floor.
“Makes sense to me,” said Tony. “Alright. Let’s tour the tower.”
Chapter 16
Notes:
Thank you to FestiveFerret for her photoshop touch-up on this picture! You can find FestiveFerret's AO3 here.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Pictured is a spoof of a page from an I, Spy book. It features a photograph of a flat white surface cluttered with various round and round-adjacent things, including buttons, an orange, washers, sea shells, coins, and bottle caps. There is also a smartphone, a sticker that says "city of Ann Arbor," a button that says "Stay Gold Ponyboy," a keychain for the San Diego Zoo, a bottlecap that says "Enchantress Original," and round plastic tokens with pictures of Steve, Tony, the Hulk, Natasha, Clint, and Thor on them. At the bottom of the page is the following rhyme: "I spy a seven, the word 'love,' some hamburger art, a rainbow, a thimble, a half moon, a heart, a class ring, two sea shells, an orange that's peeled, three quarters, and Captain America's shield." All are hidden in the picture.
Clint blinked and said, “I’m sorry, were we just—”
“Collector’s medallions? Yeah, we were,” said Nat.
“And I thought being disembodied internet comments was weird,” said Tony, who was running his hands over himself to make sure he was appropriately three-dimensional again.
“I think I was the Hulk too?” said Bruce, who was looking down at his now shirtless torso.
“The kids like the stuff where we’re suited up. Don’t take it personally,” said Tony.
“Why do they always show me with my hair down?” muttered Natasha, as she produced a hair tie from nowhere and started tying back her now waist-length hair into a ponytail.
“May I have one of those as well?” asked Thor, whose hair was also much longer than he usually kept it.
Tony was going to make a quip about having a hair braiding night, but it died in his throat when he noticed Steve, looking like a kicked puppy as he cradled his maybe four-inch shield in his hands.
“Hey, cheer up Cap. It’ll change back with the next floor,” said Tony, patting Steve on the shoulder.
Steve pressed another elevator button.
“Let’s see what’s at the pool.”
Note for Assistive Tech users: this is stylized to resemble fancy handwriting on old paper.
My Darling U,
It’s been less than a day since we shipped out from New York City, and yet all I can think about is you. The sea is harsh, and Captain Jarvis is harsher, but I am determined to prove myself among the men and earn my fortune so that we may one day be married. I already miss you so desperately.
Today I had the opportunity to meet some of the other sailors here. One, named Tony, looked at me with astonishment and said, “Butterfingers?” We must have met at The Emerald Witch over a pint some time ago, although he had the strangest things to say. “I forgot I left some of the bots on this floor to test their water-proofing. I guess this is anthropomorphic Butterfingers,” he said. You know my education stopped at learning my letters, but I’m sure you’ll make sense of what he said. We chatted for a bit about what brought us here upon The Avenger, but it wasn’t long until he and the other sailors retreated beneath the poop-deck, no doubt to go about their chores.
Captain Jarvis is calling me to swab the deck, again. I’m beginning to think he has an axe to grind with me. I’ll write you again the moment I’m free.
All my love,
Butterfingers
“Oh my God, Tony, your bots are in love!” said Clint, pressing his hands to his face as a broad grin spread from ear to ear.
“They — no. They’re robotic arms made to help with basic tasks. They’re not programmed for that,” said Tony insistently.
“JARVIS isn’t programmed to be a snarky little shit either,” said Clint with a smirk.
“But Butterfingers also isn’t a sailor in a 19th century epistolary! This is a completely fictional version of my bots!” said Tony.
“I’m not so sure about that, Tony,” said Steve with a small smile. “Butterfingers and U make a lot of excuses to hang out together while they’re in the lab.”
Tony snorted and said, “Well, by that metric, the two of us are practically married, Steve.”
There was an excruciatingly awkward silence, before Bruce said, “Gym next?”
“Yes please,” said Steve.
Note for assistive tech users: This is stylized to look like a very old computer screen, with green, blocky text on a black background
The elevator doors open. You and the Avengers walk out into the tower’s gym. There is EXERCISE EQUIPMENT, a BOXING RING, a SNACK BAR, and TOWELS. There are two LOCKER ROOMS to the east and a SAUNA to the west.
“See! THIS is a proper choose-your-own-adventure!” says Tony with a smile. “Steve, since you came out of the elevator first, you’re the star. Try saying, ‘EXAMINE SNACK BAR’.”
>EXAMINE SNACK BAR
The snack bar is stocked with ENERGY BARS, ORANGE SLICES, and SPORTS DRINKS.
“I’m actually kind of peckish. Steve, could you put in the command to take a few of these energy bars?” says Clint.
>LET CLINT TAKE ENERGY BARS
I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Try to be more specific.
>LET CLINT TAKE ENERGY BARS PLEASE
I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Try to be more specific.
>WHY CAN'T CLINT TAKE THE ENERGY BARS?
I'm sorry, I don't understand. If you need help, please enter TALK TO TONY
>TALK TO TONY
“You have to take the energy bars in one command, then give them to Clint in the next,” says Tony.
>TAKE ENERGY BARS
You take five (5) ENERGY BARS.
>GIVE CLINT ENERGY BARS
Clint takes the ENERGY BARS. CLINT STAMINA: +2
“Nice! Now let’s see if what’s in the LOCKER ROOMS,” says Tony.
>GO TO ELEVATOR
You re-enter the elevator.
“Steve, you are the opposite of fun,” said Tony with a pout.
“No, I’m pretty sure that was the opposite of fun,” said Steve. “That’s really what video games used to be like?”
“I— ok, I can see how that’s a bit of a let down compared to Mario Kart,” said Tony. “But that’s just because I didn’t write it. When we’re done here, I’ll introduce you to a CYOA game that I wrote in my teens that’ll blow your mind.”
“It’s no use, Tony,” said Bruce, “Steve might be a child of the depression, but waking up when he did means he’s practically got a kid’s taste in video games. You and me are just old.”
Tony looked down at his feet and started doing that uncomfortable shuffle he always did when he was reminded of his and Steve’s age gap.
“I’d like that Tony,” said Steve. Even though Bruce was probably right, he’d play a hundred boring video games if it made Tony happy.
Tony looked up and smiled. Everyone else either rolled their eyes or sighed.
“What?” said Tony.
“Nothing,” said Bruce. “Hey Thor, remind us all to pick up more chocolate crinkle cookies when we revisit your floor.”
Notes:
"Hey Gogglor, how long did it take you to track down every round thing you own and arrange them to make that picture" a normal human amount of time, that is not even a little bit excessive for a one-off bit in a fanfiction.
By the time I am done with this fanfiction, that lamp is gonna be SO FRIGGIN BUMPED.
Chapter 17
Notes:
This chapter features original art by me, Gogglor! I am quite pleased to say this is a highly representative sample of my artistic prowess.
EDIT: I've since become aware that one of the genres represented in this chapter isn't as well known as I thought and googling it returns not very useful results. So when one of the characters names it, I've added a link to a clarifying article in the Guardian, which covers it in the first 2 paragraphs and the article picture (you can ignore the rest of the article), and isn't necessary to read if you're already familiar.
Chapter Text
“What’s left of the non-residential floors?” asked Clint, who was counting floors on his fingers.
“Strange said it’s only the Avenger’s suites,” said Natasha, clearly mulling over her mental map of the suites in her mind, “Probably doesn’t include medical, since there’s 100 floors of offices between us and them, so… the Hulk containment floor and the common room are all that are left.”
“Let me go out first for the HC floor, please,” said Bruce as he pushed the appropriate button. “I don’t really have a reason, other than it’s sort of also my floor, and I’d like to drive if it happens to have a driver.”
“Are you sure?” said Steve.
“Yeah,” said Bruce. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
Note for assistive tech users: This is stylized to look like an e-reader
I walk out of the elevator and look around. At first I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, just my regular wide, empty, reinforced space where I become an extremely attractive and shredded green rage monster.
“What could this be?” says my bud, Thor.
“Anything you want,” says another voice. I turn around and see him there. He is shirtless, with ripped abs and a perfectly sculpted body, but also somehow very architectural, like he contains the very space we are standing in. And he is very handsome.
“Oh no,” I say, the anticipation already ratcheting up inside me, “If this is what I think it is, and I’m the main character, then I need to get back in the elevator right now.”
“Relax, buckaroo!” says the handsome and familiar stranger. “All butt-pounding is 100% enthusiastic and consensual here. We can just be two buds with washboard abs and giant cocks.”
“Wh— is this porn? Are we in a really weird porno right now?” says buddy Steve.
Tony starts laughing so hard he collapses onto Steve’s side. Clint is doubled over, shaking with laughter. Even Natasha is chuckling into her hand, her eyes sparkling with repressed mirth.
“Oh my God!” Clint howls. “It’s a Tingler!”
“He is the anthropomorphic manifestation of the Hulk containment floor, buddy Clint, but you can call me Donny,” the handsome buckaroo says with a wink.
I turn to Donny and say, “Ah, listen. I’m flattered but I’m not looking for any, um… for any butt-pounding right now.”
“Are you sure about that Bruce?” says Tony as he wipes the tears of mirth from his eyes. “I mean, you’re probably never going to get the chance to bone an anthropomorphic tower floor again.”
“Yeah, um… no thank you,” I say, because while I am titillated by the idea of the anthropomorphic manifestation of the Hulk containment floor slamming me with his huge rod (Or am I really? It might just be this floor’s current pulling me under), something tells me I’ll regret it later.
Tony takes a look at his bud Steve, who is blushing, and says, “Yeah, tempting as it is to bone my own creation, I’m gonna to take a pass too.”
“That’s ok, I only have eyes for Bruce’s hot body,” says Donny with a wiggle of his butt.
“In that case, I suppose we should proceed to the next floor,” says Thor, sounding a bit dejected.
Clint turns to Thor and says, “Seriously?”
“Jane and I have an understanding that anthropomorphized versions of inanimate objects don’t count as cheating,” says Thor with a shrug.
Nobody knows what to say to that, except Donny who shouts, “They sure do, buckaroo!” as we walk into the elevator and the doors close.
“Can somebody else go out first next time? I think I’ve had my fill of driving,” Bruce said uncomfortably.
Clint clapped Bruce on the shoulder and said, “Bruce, we’ve all been there: right at the precipice of being seduced by a tower floor. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“It’s true," said Tony with mock solemnity. “Stronger men than you would be having their butts pounded right now, Bruce. Thor is proof of that.”
“What can I say? I have a type,” said Thor with a shrug. “Although personally I’d much rather sleep with the gym.”
There was a moment of silence where everyone tried to figure out what to say to that, except Natasha, who nodded sagely.
"Hey, quick question, what does it mean for my sexual orientation if I'm considering third base with an anthropomorphic swimming pool?" asked Clint.
“I should never have rescued any of you,” said Steve.
1. INT. COMMON ROOM FLOOR - NIGHT
The elevator doors open and THE AVENGERS enter. The walls are already oozing — whether with blood or something else, it’s too dark to tell. There’s a scream of something haunting and bloodthirsty in the wind that whips across the jagged shards of glass from the broken floor-to-ceiling windows. The shadows move with demons unseen, and the only source of light is the television, which is showing static that periodically breaks into a series of images. A disembodied smile with too many teeth, ants devouring a blood red fish on a beach, a close-up of a terrified eye.
TONY
Nope!
THE AVENGERS get back inside the elevator and the doors close.
“All in favor of searching there last?” said Tony.
Everyone voiced their agreement, except Natasha, who grumbled, “As if any horror movie could be scarier than me.”
“That’s all the non-residential floors,” said Clint. “Do I get to meet emo Fury now?”
“I think we should try to escape first,” said Natasha.
“Strange said we can’t until we’ve found the artifact,” said Steve.
“But Strange said this magic is also unprecedented, right? He may not know. And what’s rule number one of espionage?”
“Getting rid of a body is more of a pain in the ass than you remember?” said Clint.
“That’s rule number three. Rule number one is ‘They always forget to look up’,” said Natasha, as she pressed the button for the roof.
“We need to do a PR campaign with the kids so they know that I exist too,” said a yet-again-shirtless Bruce with a sigh.
“You’ll get your shirt back on Clint’s floor,” said Steve, as he pressed the appropriate elevator button.
“Hey Cap, if we make it all the way down to Tony’s floor and none of us spot the artifact, what’s our next move?” said Clint.
“We pick the floor with the weakest pull and the least ridiculous clothes and we make a plan on how to search more granularly,” said Steve as he scratched at his waxy blue armor shirt.
“I’m going to have to beat up my boyfriend, aren’t I?” said Natasha.
“Oho, you have a lover on your floor? Who is it?” asked Thor with a grin.
Natasha just patted his arm and said, “You’ll see.”
Chapter 18
Notes:
I had some really beautiful code that would remove options you'd already selected, and then AO3 was like, "lol, nope." So instead I'll say here that there's no point in choosing the same Avenger twice, you'll just get the same blurb. And, just like last time, remember to scroll down.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
You feel the corner of your mouth turn up into a smile as you look out across the table with fondness. After stopping on everyone’s floors just in case someone can see an obvious candidate for the artifact that no one else can (which had meant concomitant magic costume changes on every floor this time, much to Tony and Clint's delight when they all found themselves wearing pancake goth makeup on Natasha’s floor) you’d all decided to regroup on Bruce’s floor to discuss next steps, with you driving as the team leader. But the moment you’d all sat down around the table, everyone started chatting at once. It was as if everyone sensed this would be the last break they'd get before seeing this through to the end, and they were going to take full advantage while it lasted. At the moment, Clint and Natasha are ranking tower floors based on which would be the best in bed if they became anthropomorphic (“We used to date, Clint, I know you’re great in bed, but your floor definitely wouldn’t be.”). Thor is chiming in to their discussion occasionally through a mouth full of pop tarts from a box he'd conjured from who knows where, but he mostly seems to be agreeing with Natasha. Bruce and Tony are finishing each other’s sentences discussing some kind of hypothetical device that could neutralize magic, and keeping up with what they’re saying makes your head spin and your gut twinge a little with envy. Bruce and Tony have always been on the same wavelength like that, and while you know it’s just a mark of how brilliant they both are and how deep their friendship runs, it’s still a piece of Tony you’ll never really get to share.
When it looks like Clint and Nat are about to go and ask the Hulk containment floor his opinion on the sexual prowess of the pool, and Tony and Bruce are about to run off to Bruce’s lab to build something that, on the napkin blueprint, has the words ‘14% chance we all die’ scribbled underneath it, you chime in and say, “Alright, break time’s over.”
Usually something about the serum makes everyone stop what they’re doing and listen when you speak, but this floor seems to be interfering with it, since everyone’s still talking with each other. You’d chosen Bruce’s floor because it felt like it had the weakest pull and wanted to be yourselves while planning your next move, but maybe the pull here is stronger than you thought.
“Hey!” you say, raising your voice just a bit, which manages to quiet everyone for now. “Listen, we don’t know what Enchantress is doing right now or what her plans are. We need to get to work if we’re going to get out of here and stop her.”
“About that—” starts Tony.
“We need a plan that doesn’t have a fourteen percent chance of us all being killed,” you say pointedly. Bruce nods with a sigh and crumples up the napkin, while Tony grumbles something about his suit and sixteen percent, which you will definitely be revisiting with him later.
“There is only one sure way to break free of this enchantment,” says Thor. “We need to find the artifact that is maintaining the spell on our home and destroy it.”
“I don’t see much reason to deviate from our original plan,” says Bruce. “Enchantress sounded like she’s not interested in coming back to rattle our cage, now that we’ve un-whammied Thor. That leaves searching the tower for the artifact, which Strange said could be literally anything. And with ten floors and one roof to go through, we’ve got a lot of searching to do.”
“Will we know for certain when we find it?” Clint asks.
“Only when you touch it,” says Thor. “Here, it’s easier to show you.”
Thor holds out mjölnir and gestures for everyone to touch it. You do, and feel a sensation that is equal parts extremely present, completely indescribable, and very easy to miss if you’re not looking for it.
“There is a charm on mjölnir laid by the All-Father, ensuring only the worthy may wield it,” says Thor. “It is very limited, as it only concerns the hammer, but also very powerful, which is why you can feel the sensation of magic when you touch it. Whatever artifact is maintaining the spell on our home is both very powerful and very expansive. When touched, the feeling should be unmistakable.”
“So… touch every single object on ten floors of the tower, plus the roof, until we find it,” grumbles Tony.
“Maybe we can narrow it down a bit,” says Natasha thoughtfully. “I know rule number one of spying turned out to be a bust, but rule number five seems to apply here.”
“The weirder the kink, the easier the seduction?” asks Clint.
“That’s rule number six. Five is ‘Make educated guesses’,” says Natasha. “If we’re going to be searching, we might as well focus on places and things that are more likely than others.”
“Ok. Who’s got an educated guess?” you ask.
Everyone starts talking at once again, so you say loudly, “Either we all take turns talking, or I am resurrecting the talking-shield from those team-building exercises we did last month.”
Instant silence falls over the table.
“That seems a little extreme, Cap,” says Clint.
“Yeah, talk about the nuclear option,” says Tony.
“Something about this floor has us all talking over each other, and we all need to hear each other’s educated guesses if we’re going to get out of here any time soon,” you say as you rotate the shield a bit threateningly in your hands. “Now, who's going first?”
“It may be the case that the artifact doesn’t match its environment,” says Thor.
“How do you mean?” you ask.
“Magical artifacts are often immune to their own effects. Suppose, for example, the artifact is an enchanted chalice. If there were a floor of the tower entirely comprised of swords, it is unlikely it would be able to change into a sword to disguise itself.”
“Interesting,” says Natasha, “So if we see something like a cell phone in the noir novel, or a gun in the kids’ book, that could be it.”
“Yes, precisely,” says Thor.
“If I’d been given the mission to sneak something into Avengers tower, ideally I’d want it to be something small and easy to conceal. Something that wouldn’t stand out on an ordinary day, like a quarter or a pair of sunglasses,” says Natasha.
“Great so… something small that doesn’t stand out. That narrows it down,” grumbles Tony.
“It rules out the furniture and Clint’s grickle-grack trees, whatever the hell they are,” says Natasha with a shrug.
“I don’t think it’s on my floor or Natasha’s,” says Clint.
“Why is that?” you ask.
“If you had to sneak something into Avengers tower, would you do it under the noses of the trained spies?” asks Clint. “Maybe it’s just my ego showing here, but I think Nat and I are probably the least likely to have something snuck into our pockets and the most likely to notice if something shows up on our floor that isn’t supposed to be there.”
“Yeah, I can get behind that,” says Bruce.
“One more educated guess: I don’t think it’s on the Hulk containment floor either. You remember what it was like there: empty except for the floor itself and his shredded, shredded abs. No haystack to hide a needle in there.”
“I mean, it’s a Tingler. It could be in his butt,” says Tony. “I’m sure he’d let Bruce search him for it.”
Bruce turns scarlet and mumbles something not even your ears can pick up.
“I think we can make another educated guess that it’s probably not… there,” you say.
“None of you have any sense of sexual adventure,” Tony sighs as he leans back and puts his hands behind his head.
You eye the strip of skin on his abdomen that was exposed when his shirt rode up, and catch yourself thinking, We’ll see about that, Stark.
“Thor, why is the artifact in the tower instead of, say, on the moon, or anywhere so far away we can’t reach it?” asks Tony.
“Magic is limited by proximity. For an artifact-based enchantment to affect the tower from Earth’s moon, it would require a likely unsustainable amount of power from thousands of sorcerers working together,” says Thor.
“Let’s pretend it’s not magic for a second. Let’s say it’s something else proximity-based, like a bomb,” says Tony. “And it’s a really powerful bomb, but you want to be extra sure that it reaches all the floors of our part of the tower. Where do you put it?”
“The center floor,” says Natasha.
“Exactly,” says Tony, as he writes a quick list of the Avengers section of the tower on a scrap of paper. You look at the paper and read:
ROOF
CLINT’S FLOOR
COMMON ROOM FLOOR
THOR’S FLOOR
BRUCE’S FLOOR
HULK CONTAINMENT FLOOR
STEVE’S FLOOR
NATASHA’S FLOOR
MY FLOOR
GYM
POOL
“If we include the roof, the containment floor is in the center, but I don’t think that necessarily means it’s definitely there,” Tony continues, as he starts drawing concentric circles starting from the containment floor and working outwards. “We already know this artifact packs a kick, so it could hypothetically be anywhere. But if we’re making educated guesses, then I say we put the roof, Clint’s floor, the pool, and the gym in the unlikely pile. And that we start looking in the middle and move outward.”
“I don’t have anything to add apart from what Enchantress told us herself,” says Bruce.
“Wait, what? I don’t remember her saying anything revealing,” says Tony.
“It never made it to the blog post, but she said, ‘you’re more than a few steps from freedom’,” says Bruce.
“That doesn’t sound like anything about the artifact,” says Thor.
“It does if you’re egomaniacal and evil,” says Bruce. “I mean, she could’ve meant something else, but to me that sounds like her stroking her own ego with a hint she thinks we’re too stupid to get.”
“Yeah so, I have a friend who is too stupid to get the hint. What should I tell him it is?” says Clint.
“Thank you, Clint,” says Thor without a shred of irony.
Bruce shakes his head a bit and says, “It could mean that not only is the artifact not on Thor’s floor, but it’s not on the floors above or below it. The ‘more than a few steps’ might be the literal steps to another level of the tower,” says Bruce.
“She does seem like the type to mean it that way,” says Natasha thoughtfully. “So that rules out Thor’s floor, Bruce’s floor, and the Common Room floor, potentially.”
“I’ll take anything that lets us rule out the horror floor as the gospel truth,” says Clint with a shudder.
You take a moment to choose your words and then say, “Thor, if I wanted to cast a fire spell, could I do it with a bottle of water?”
“Yes, if you were a sufficiently powerful sorcerer,” says Thor. “However, it would be very, very difficult, since you would be fighting water’s natural properties. It would make more sense to use almost anything else. Why do you ask?”
“Before I came here, Strange showed me an example of an artifact,” you say. “It was a book with a person trapped inside its story. Strange said he thought something similar is trapping us here in the tower. But… there’s a natural connection between a book and a story, right?”
“Right,” says Natasha carefully.
“So what if whatever it is, it’s got some kind of connection to what we’ve seen?” you say.
“What could that be?” asks Bruce.
“It’s a spell with a lot of story-telling elements, so it could also be a book, or maybe a DVD. And it’s also got a lot of different elements so maybe it’s something that could show examples of everything we’ve seen, like an encyclopedia.”
The whole table snorts a little at that, Tony the loudest.
“If Enchantress managed to find an encyclopedia current enough for a Chuck Tingle page, she deserves to keep us trapped for a bit,” says Tony.
You roll your eyes and say, “Yes, the old man is old, but maybe… hey, could it be a TV or a smartphone? Something that could display examples of everything we’re seeing?”
“Maybe,” says Clint with a shrug. “Ok, not bad for an educated guess. We can keep our eye out for an evil-looking TV.”
“It may be the case that the artifact doesn’t match its environment,” says Thor.
“How do you mean?” you ask.
“Magical artifacts are often immune to their own effects. Suppose, for example, the artifact is an enchanted chalice. If there were a floor of the tower entirely comprised of swords, it is unlikely it would be able to change into a sword to disguise itself.”
“Interesting,” says Natasha, “So if we see something like a cell phone in the noir novel, or a gun in the kids’ book, that could be it.”
“Yes, precisely,” says Thor.
“If I’d been given the mission to sneak something into Avengers tower, ideally I’d want it to be something small and easy to conceal. Something that wouldn’t stand out on an ordinary day, like a quarter or a pair of sunglasses,” says Natasha.
“Great so… something small that doesn’t stand out. That narrows it down,” grumbles Tony.
“It rules out the furniture and Clint’s grickle-grack trees, whatever the hell they are,” says Natasha with a shrug.
“I don’t think it’s on my floor or Natasha’s,” says Clint.
“Why is that?” you ask.
“If you had to sneak something into Avengers tower, would you do it under the noses of the trained spies?” asks Clint. “Maybe it’s just my ego showing here, but I think Nat and I are probably the least likely to have something snuck into our pockets and the most likely to notice if something shows up on our floor that isn’t supposed to be there.”
“Yeah, I can get behind that,” says Bruce.
“One more educated guess: I don’t think it’s on the Hulk containment floor either. You remember what it was like there: empty except for the floor itself and his shredded, shredded abs. No haystack to hide a needle in there.”
“I mean, it’s a Tingler. It could be in his butt,” says Tony. “I’m sure he’d let Bruce search him for it.”
Bruce turns scarlet and mumbles something not even your ears can pick up.
“I think we can make another educated guess that it’s probably not… there,” you say.
“None of you have any sense of sexual adventure,” Tony sighs as he leans back and puts his hands behind his head.
You eye the strip of skin on his abdomen that was exposed when his shirt rode up, and catch yourself thinking, We’ll see about that, Stark.
“Thor, why is the artifact in the tower instead of, say, on the moon, or anywhere so far away we can’t reach it?” asks Tony.
“Magic is limited by proximity. For an artifact-based enchantment to affect the tower from Earth’s moon, it would require a likely unsustainable amount of power from thousands of sorcerers working together,” says Thor.
“Let’s pretend it’s not magic for a second. Let’s say it’s something else proximity-based, like a bomb,” says Tony. “And it’s a really powerful bomb, but you want to be extra sure that it reaches all the floors of our part of the tower. Where do you put it?”
“The center floor,” says Natasha.
“Exactly,” says Tony, as he writes a quick list of the Avengers section of the tower on a scrap of paper. You look at the paper and read:
ROOF
CLINT’S FLOOR
COMMON ROOM FLOOR
THOR’S FLOOR
BRUCE’S FLOOR
HULK CONTAINMENT FLOOR
STEVE’S FLOOR
NATASHA’S FLOOR
MY FLOOR
GYM
POOL
“If we include the roof, the containment floor is in the center, but I don’t think that necessarily means it’s definitely there,” Tony continues, as he starts drawing concentric circles starting from the containment floor and working outwards. “We already know this artifact packs a kick, so it could hypothetically be anywhere. But if we’re making educated guesses, then I say we put the roof, Clint’s floor, the pool, and the gym in the unlikely pile. And that we start looking in the middle and move outward.”
“I don’t have anything to add apart from what Enchantress told us herself,” says Bruce.
“Wait, what? I don’t remember her saying anything revealing,” says Tony.
“It never made it to the blog post, but she said, ‘you’re more than a few steps from freedom’,” says Bruce.
“That doesn’t sound like anything about the artifact,” says Thor.
“It does if you’re egomaniacal and evil,” says Bruce. “I mean, she could’ve meant something else, but to me that sounds like her stroking her own ego with a hint she thinks we’re too stupid to get.”
“Yeah so, I have a friend who is too stupid to get the hint. What should I tell him it is?” says Clint.
“Thank you, Clint,” says Thor without a shred of irony.
Bruce shakes his head a bit and says, “It could mean that not only is the artifact not on Thor’s floor, but it’s not on the floors above or below it. The ‘more than a few steps’ might be the literal steps to another level of the tower,” says Bruce.
“She does seem like the type to mean it that way,” says Natasha thoughtfully. “So that rules out Thor’s floor, Bruce’s floor, and the Common Room floor, potentially.”
“I’ll take anything that lets us rule out the horror floor as the gospel truth,” says Clint with a shudder.
You take a moment to choose your words and then say, “Thor, if I wanted to cast a fire spell, could I do it with a bottle of water?”
“Yes, if you were a sufficiently powerful sorcerer,” says Thor. “However, it would be very, very difficult, since you would be fighting water’s natural properties. It would make more sense to use almost anything else. Why do you ask?”
“Before I came here, Strange showed me an example of an artifact,” you say. “It was a book with a person trapped inside its story. Strange said he thought something similar is trapping us here in the tower. But… there’s a natural connection between a book and a story, right?”
“Right,” says Natasha carefully.
“So what if whatever it is, it’s got some kind of connection to what we’ve seen?” you say.
“What could that be?” asks Bruce.
“It’s a spell with a lot of story-telling elements, so it could also be a book, or maybe a DVD. And it’s also got a lot of different elements so maybe it’s something that could show examples of everything we’ve seen, like an encyclopedia.”
The whole table snorts a little at that, Tony the loudest.
“If Enchantress managed to find an encyclopedia current enough for a Chuck Tingle page, she deserves to keep us trapped for a bit,” says Tony.
You roll your eyes and say, “Yes, the old man is old, but maybe… hey, could it be a TV or a smartphone? Something that could display examples of everything we’re seeing?”
“Maybe,” says Clint with a shrug. “Ok, not bad for an educated guess. We can keep our eye out for an evil-looking TV.”
“It may be the case that the artifact doesn’t match its environment,” says Thor.
“How do you mean?” you ask.
“Magical artifacts are often immune to their own effects. Suppose, for example, the artifact is an enchanted chalice. If there were a floor of the tower entirely comprised of swords, it is unlikely it would be able to change into a sword to disguise itself.”
“Interesting,” says Natasha, “So if we see something like a cell phone in the noir novel, or a gun in the kids’ book, that could be it.”
“Yes, precisely,” says Thor.
“If I’d been given the mission to sneak something into Avengers tower, ideally I’d want it to be something small and easy to conceal. Something that wouldn’t stand out on an ordinary day, like a quarter or a pair of sunglasses,” says Natasha.
“Great so… something small that doesn’t stand out. That narrows it down,” grumbles Tony.
“It rules out the furniture and Clint’s grickle-grack trees, whatever the hell they are,” says Natasha with a shrug.
“I don’t think it’s on my floor or Natasha’s,” says Clint.
“Why is that?” you ask.
“If you had to sneak something into Avengers tower, would you do it under the noses of the trained spies?” asks Clint. “Maybe it’s just my ego showing here, but I think Nat and I are probably the least likely to have something snuck into our pockets and the most likely to notice if something shows up on our floor that isn’t supposed to be there.”
“Yeah, I can get behind that,” says Bruce.
“One more educated guess: I don’t think it’s on the Hulk containment floor either. You remember what it was like there: empty except for the floor itself and his shredded, shredded abs. No haystack to hide a needle in there.”
“I mean, it’s a Tingler. It could be in his butt,” says Tony. “I’m sure he’d let Bruce search him for it.”
Bruce turns scarlet and mumbles something not even your ears can pick up.
“I think we can make another educated guess that it’s probably not… there,” you say.
“None of you have any sense of sexual adventure,” Tony sighs as he leans back and puts his hands behind his head.
You eye the strip of skin on his abdomen that was exposed when his shirt rode up, and catch yourself thinking, We’ll see about that, Stark.
“Thor, why is the artifact in the tower instead of, say, on the moon, or anywhere so far away we can’t reach it?” asks Tony.
“Magic is limited by proximity. For an artifact-based enchantment to affect the tower from Earth’s moon, it would require a likely unsustainable amount of power from thousands of sorcerers working together,” says Thor.
“Let’s pretend it’s not magic for a second. Let’s say it’s something else proximity-based, like a bomb,” says Tony. “And it’s a really powerful bomb, but you want to be extra sure that it reaches all the floors of our part of the tower. Where do you put it?”
“The center floor,” says Natasha.
“Exactly,” says Tony, as he writes a quick list of the Avengers section of the tower on a scrap of paper. You look at the paper and read:
ROOF
CLINT’S FLOOR
COMMON ROOM FLOOR
THOR’S FLOOR
BRUCE’S FLOOR
HULK CONTAINMENT FLOOR
STEVE’S FLOOR
NATASHA’S FLOOR
MY FLOOR
GYM
POOL
“If we include the roof, the containment floor is in the center, but I don’t think that necessarily means it’s definitely there,” Tony continues, as he starts drawing concentric circles starting from the containment floor and working outwards. “We already know this artifact packs a kick, so it could hypothetically be anywhere. But if we’re making educated guesses, then I say we put the roof, Clint’s floor, the pool, and the gym in the unlikely pile. And that we start looking in the middle and move outward.”
“I don’t have anything to add apart from what Enchantress told us herself,” says Bruce.
“Wait, what? I don’t remember her saying anything revealing,” says Tony.
“It never made it to the blog post, but she said, ‘you’re more than a few steps from freedom’,” says Bruce.
“That doesn’t sound like anything about the artifact,” says Thor.
“It does if you’re egomaniacal and evil,” says Bruce. “I mean, she could’ve meant something else, but to me that sounds like her stroking her own ego with a hint she thinks we’re too stupid to get.”
“Yeah so, I have a friend who is too stupid to get the hint. What should I tell him it is?” says Clint.
“Thank you, Clint,” says Thor without a shred of irony.
Bruce shakes his head a bit and says, “It could mean that not only is the artifact not on Thor’s floor, but it’s not on the floors above or below it. The ‘more than a few steps’ might be the literal steps to another level of the tower,” says Bruce.
“She does seem like the type to mean it that way,” says Natasha thoughtfully. “So that rules out Thor’s floor, Bruce’s floor, and the Common Room floor, potentially.”
“I’ll take anything that lets us rule out the horror floor as the gospel truth,” says Clint with a shudder.
You take a moment to choose your words and then say, “Thor, if I wanted to cast a fire spell, could I do it with a bottle of water?”
“Yes, if you were a sufficiently powerful sorcerer,” says Thor. “However, it would be very, very difficult, since you would be fighting water’s natural properties. It would make more sense to use almost anything else. Why do you ask?”
“Before I came here, Strange showed me an example of an artifact,” you say. “It was a book with a person trapped inside its story. Strange said he thought something similar is trapping us here in the tower. But… there’s a natural connection between a book and a story, right?”
“Right,” says Natasha carefully.
“So what if whatever it is, it’s got some kind of connection to what we’ve seen?” you say.
“What could that be?” asks Bruce.
“It’s a spell with a lot of story-telling elements, so it could also be a book, or maybe a DVD. And it’s also got a lot of different elements so maybe it’s something that could show examples of everything we’ve seen, like an encyclopedia.”
The whole table snorts a little at that, Tony the loudest.
“If Enchantress managed to find an encyclopedia current enough for a Chuck Tingle page, she deserves to keep us trapped for a bit,” says Tony.
You roll your eyes and say, “Yes, the old man is old, but maybe… hey, could it be a TV or a smartphone? Something that could display examples of everything we’re seeing?”
“Maybe,” says Clint with a shrug. “Ok, not bad for an educated guess. We can keep our eye out for an evil-looking TV.”
Bruce’s eyes go wide.
“Oh my God,” he says quietly.
“What is it?” you say. Everyone is looking in the direction Bruce is staring, but there doesn’t appear to be anything there for him to react to.
“No, sorry,” says Bruce hastily as he adjusts his glasses. “It’s… I know what it is. And I know where it is.”
“Well, by all means, take your time telling us, then,” says Tony impatiently.
“No. She’s still watching,” you say quickly. Then you add, “Bruce, are you sure?”
“Well, 'sure' is a strong word, but… yeah. I think so. If I’m wrong, we can go back to searching in earnest, but I don’t think I’m wrong.”
You stand up and say, “Alright, Bruce. Lead the way.”
Notes:
Yes, this is deliberately coded so that you only get three hints. Of course, there's nothing stopping you from refreshing the page to get the other three. I'm an end-note, not a cop.
To make things easier on y'all, here's the floors of the Avengers section of the tower from top to bottom in this universe (medical's down in the lobby, so not included in the spell field): The roof, Clint's floor, the common room floor, Thor's floor, Bruce's floor, the Hulk containment floor, Steve's floor, Nat's floor, Tony's floor, the gym floor, and the pool floor.
I know it's not proper CYOA unless there's at least one option coming out of left field that leads to catastrophe, but I didn't want to mess up the simplicity of "You've got six possible hints, choose wisely." So just know that all throughout this chapter, Steve felt Bruce's hot sauce calling out to him like some kind of Eldritch abomination and decided any choice that weird and specific was probably bad news and he ignored it. And if you don't get that reference, go back to chapter ten, choose to take a break, and then choose to add hot sauce to your sandwich.
Chapter 19
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
FADE IN:
1. EXT. THE MOUTH OF A MINE SHAFT - DAY
Sheriff STEVE ROGERS(mid-30s, commanding, reserved, protective), walks out of the mouth of a MINE SHAFT. He is joined by his deputy THOR ODINSON (late 30s/ancient, sage, friendly, honorable), local smith TONY STARK (mid-40s, brilliant, sarcastic, showy), cowboy CLINT BARTON (mid-30s, puckish, quick, decisive), wealthy widow NATASHA ROMANOV (mid-20s, deadly, focused, perceptive), and local doctor BRUCE BANNER (late 40s, bookish, soft-spoken, disciplined). All of them are squinting or shielding their eyes as they look out into the harsh, desert sun from near the top of the small hill containing the entrance to the now disused GOLD MINE. Below is a GHOST TOWN in a valley of scrub land.
TONY
At least we’re not cereal box toys this time.
CLINT
She changed the setting? How did she know?
BRUCE
Either she saw me press the button for Steve’s floor or she changed it as a precaution once she heard me say I knew what and where the artifact was. Looks like the search is going to be more difficult than we thought.
NATASHA
There is some good news here. She wouldn’t have had to change the floor if she’d had time to move the artifact. And she wouldn’t have changed it at all if you were wrong.
THOR
Natasha is correct. Amora would have liked nothing better than to watch us think we’d succeeded, and then fail, which means we’re in the right place. But she is likely either here already or on her way to move the artifact, so we must work quickly to find it again.
TONY
In the interest of working quickly, it seems like there’s no point keeping it to yourself anymore, Bruce. What is it we’re looking for?
Before BRUCE can reply, there’s a gunshot and he’s bleeding at the shoulder. A second later he’s turning green and growing in size. The rest of the group takes cover as more gunshots rain down on them, and THE HULK roars and runs toward one of the SHOOTERS. STEVE reaches for his shield, sees it’s not there, and realizes it’s become the sheriff’s star on his shirt in this universe. He gives an exasperated sigh, takes out his hand gun and starts returning fire. NATASHA digs into her little beaded purse, pulls out a small revolver and also fires. THOR takes his hand gun out of his holster.
THOR
Ah… this floor’s pull is telling me to use this, but I believe that would end poorly.
STEVE
Give it to Clint and use your hammer, Thor!
THOR reaches to his other hip and pulls an ordinary hammer out of his belt loop. He tosses it in his hand, then taps it against a stone, which reverberates with the familiar *clang* of a hit from mjölnir. THOR smiles, tosses his gun to CLINT, who starts using it, then flies off with the hammer towards the SHOOTERS. TONY hides uselessly behind a rock.
TONY
God dammit, why am I a smith? Why couldn’t I be an eccentric inventor with a giant mechanical spider?
STEVE
He’s the bad guy in that movie, Tony.
TONY
You... no, you have a whole century of cinema to catch up on and you’ve spent your free time watching Wild Wild West?
STEVE
I’ve also watched the Saw movies.
TONY
When we get out of here, JARVIS and I are fixing your Netflix queue.
CLINT
Flirt later, fight now!
TONY
We’re not—
A bullet hits the stone right by TONY’s head, shutting him up.
STEVE
How many are left?
CLINT
Three...
Sound of THE HULK roaring and a man screaming
CLINT (CONT’D)
...Two...
Sound of THOR hitting something hard
CLINT (CONT’D)
...One
STEVE
Wound him for me, Clint?
CLINT
This’d be much easier with my bow, buuuuut...
CLINT fires.
ZOLA (O.S.)
Ahhh, my knee cap!
CLINT grins as everyone puts away their weapons.
NATASHA
Show off.
CLINT
Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me.
NATASHA
If you ever say that again I am hurting you in places you didn’t know could hurt.
STEVE
Where’s the Hulk?
CLINT
Looks like he ran off into the foothills.
TONY
Leave him. We can’t waste any time.
STEVE
Bruce is the only one who knows what the artifact is.
NATASHA
Tony’s right. It’s going to take time to find and catch up with him, then even more time to convince him to de-Hulk. Enchantress could already be here. We need to start looking.
THOR walks over half-carrying ARNIM ZOLA (60s, brilliant, snivelling, evil) and throws him at their feet.
THOR
This man claims to be acquainted with you, Steve.
STEVE
Zola?
ZOLA
We meet again, Sheriff Rogers!
TONY
Yeah, I can see Vanko sprawled out behind the boulder. Looks like our brains are casting the bad guys appropriately.
STEVE
Do you have any usable information for us? Such as the location of the artifact or Enchantress?
ZOLA
Yes, I do. You may surrender yourselves at—
STEVE punches ZOLA and knocks him out cold.
STEVE
Been wanting to do that since the 40’s.
NATASHA
We need to get going. Looks like the town’s the only other place around here to search.
(gestures over toward where the SHOOTERS had tied up their horses)
Who here knows how to ride a horse?
THE AVENGERS start walking over toward the horses.
CLINT
I do. Sort of comes with the bow and arrow territory.
TONY
Three years of equestrian lessons and hated every second, but yes, I can ride.
STEVE
Thor, you fly overhead with Natasha and we’ll meet you in town. Tony, Clint, each of you take a horse. I’ll catch up soon enough if I run.
TONY
Don’t be stupid, Cap, you’re with me.
STEVE
Tony—
TONY
It’s just like riding behind on your damn motorcycle, Rogers. Just hold on tight and don’t backseat drive.
2. EXT. DESERT - DAY
THOR flies overhead with NATASHA as the rest of THE AVENGERS, minus BRUCE, gallop across the desert toward the GHOST TOWN. STEVE is looking half terrified as he’s riding behind TONY, who is loving every second of STEVE clinging onto him for dear life. They pass by an old wooden sign that says “Welcome To Avenger, population 1000 500 100 20”
3. EXT. GHOST TOWN MAIN STREET - DAY
THE AVENGERS arrive in a one-road GHOST TOWN. Almost all of the buildings are falling apart. The only ones that look like they have any life left in them are the SALOON, the JAILHOUSE and the WHOREHOUSE. The CLOCK TOWER overlooking the town is at 11:00. STEVE dismounts the moment he’s able to.
STEVE
That was nothing like riding a motorcycle, Tony.
TONY and CLINT dismount and tie up the horses while THOR and NAT touch down next to them.
TONY
Yeah, but if I didn’t tell you that, you’d still be doing your Forrest Gump impression five miles down the road.
(waits for STEVE to give an indication that he understood the reference)
Really? Wild Wild West and Saw, but not Forrest Gump? You’ve at least seen Star Wars, right?
STEVE
I got bored around when the Gunguns showed up.
(takes advantage of TONY’s stunned, sputtering apoplexy to look around)
Could go for a few more educated guesses on where to start looking.
CLINT
Aw, Cap, didn’t you read any Western pulps growing up? Everybody knows there’s only three locations that exist in a Western: The saloon, the jailhouse, and the whorehouse.
NATASHA
Don’t forget the bank if it’s a heist movie.
CLINT
Oh sure, but I don’t see one here.
STEVE
What? The General Store’s right there...
A gust of wind hits the “General Store” and its door blows open, revealing nothing but desert on the other side. A beat.
STEVE (CONT’D)
...Ok, that narrows down the where. How about the what?
THOR
It will not have changed its appearance since the spell began, which means it will be in the same form now as it was when we visited this floor earlier.
CLINT
My perspective was pretty limited, being two-dimensional and all, but I remember a lot of round things. Bottle caps, buttons, earrings, marbles… and I don’t think anything there was bigger than an orange or smaller than a washer.
STEVE
Let’s split up. Natasha, you take the whorehouse—
TONY
I’m going to the whorehouse. No way am I missing out on the opportunity to see who our brains cast as old-timey sex workers.
STEVE
No, Tony. You and me are going to the saloon.
TONY
Cap, I’m not going to get my goddamn dick wet, ok? Besides, Nat should take the saloon. There’s probably some rough-and-tumble types there, and we need someone who can get close enough to their pockets to see if there’s an artifact in them without raising any eyebrows. I can do that for sex workers, Nat can do that for cowboys.
NATASHA
Tony’s right. You and him should go to the whorehouse. That leaves Clint and Thor with the jailhouse.
STEVE
Fine. Thor, Clint, once you’re done there, go high and be on the lookout for Enchantress or the Hulk. Remember, everyone, we’re looking for something smaller than your hand, possibly round-ish, but it stood out to Bruce so it might not be. If it hasn’t changed since we were here earlier, it might look out of place for this setting. If you find it, don’t wait for the rest of us, just smash it. Let’s move out.
TONY and STEVE head for the WHOREHOUSE. THOR, CLINT, and NATASHA walk in the same direction for a while on the way to their locations.
CLINT
Very big of you to let Tony have his way back there. And wise to get Steve to watch him. In a whorehouse. I’m sure that won’t dredge up any suppressed emotions.
THOR
Well played, Natasha.
NATASHA
If they don’t get a clue after this, we’re locking them in the Tingler until they bone it out.
They laugh, then part ways. THOR and CLINT split off to the JAILHOUSE, while NATASHA continues down main street to the SALOON.
[CONTINUED]
Notes:
Props to everyone who guessed Steve's floor! As for what the artifact is, you'll have to wait just a little bit longer, or head back to chapter sixteen and see if you can spot it ;)
Chapter Text
4. EXT. WHOREHOUSE - DAY
The WHOREHOUSE is well-kept and clearly used to be busy, but has dwindled with the rest of the town. STEVE and TONY walk toward it, looking uncomfortable and excited respectively.
TONY
We are probably about to see a lot of my one-night-stands in here, so please don’t be weird about it, and let me take the lead.
STEVE
Just remember to stay focused on why we’re here.
TONY
Of course. I am a consummate professional at all times.
STEVE
Mmhmm. And what happened at last year’s Christmas charity gala was...
TONY
Still consummate professionalism. Just a bit heavier on the consummation.
STEVE
(laughs a little uncomfortably)
I thought Pepper was going to flay you alive when she found you and that starlet in the broom closet.
TONY
Hey, Pepper and I had just broken up and I was looking for some rebound sex. She knew what to expect when she made me go to that party.
STEVE
Most people eat a lot of sweets and commiserate with their friends.
TONY
(shrugs)
Rhodey wasn’t in town and I didn’t have that kind of relationship with you guys yet. Especially you.
STEVE
(hesitantly)
And what kind of relationship do we have now, Tony?
TONY quirks a smile in the corner of his mouth, and he’s about to reply.
PEGGY (O.S.)
Is that you, Sheriff Rogers?
Madam PEGGY CARTER (mid-30s, professional, coy, affectionate) stands in the open doorway of the WHOREHOUSE in a red satin dress, fanning herself with black lace fan.
PEGGY
Haven’t seen you around here in a while, sheriff. Was beginning to think you’d forgotten little old me.
STEVE
Peggy!?
PEGGY
Oh dear. Sounds like you really might have. I’m sorry, Tony, Rumiko’s picked up and moved to Defender, but she’ll be back next week to take the rest of her belongings.
TONY
Rumiko? Really?
PEGGY
Afraid so.
TONY
(to Steve)
I think our brains are casting our actual exes in here, not the people we think of as… you know.
STEVE relaxes a bit at that, then goes up to PEGGY, who steps out onto the porch to meet him halfway, and folds her into an embrace. He eventually pulls back and puts his hands on the sides of her face, covering her earrings. TONY’s doing his best to look unbothered.
STEVE
Of course I didn’t forget you, Pegs. You’re my best girl.
BUCKY (O.S.)
Aww, sheriff, I thought I was your favorite.
STEVE pulls away from PEGGY a bit, turns, and sees sex worker BUCKY BARNES (mid-30s, loyal, daring, stubborn) step out of the open WHOREHOUSE door as well.
STEVE
Bucky…
STEVE gapes at BUCKY for a moment, then walks over and embraces him, hard, getting swept up in the emotion of seeing him again.
STEVE (CONT'D)
...I’m so sorry, Buck, I’m so sorry.
BUCKY
Hey there, sheriff, nothing to be sorry for. We know you’re a busy man.
STEVE steps back and puts one hand on the side of BUCKY’s face while the other is on his chest, the conflicting emotions of grief, joy, and disappointment playing over STEVE’s face as he touches his best friend and lost lover for the first time since he fell from the train.
TONY
(clears his throat)
Steve, why don’t you stay here and catch up? I can just—
STEVE
No, wait...
STEVE runs his hands over BUCKY’s buttons and pockets, casts final, wistful glances at both BUCKY and PEGGY, then his hands drop to his sides and he straightens up and goes back to play-acting the Sheriff.
STEVE (CONT'D)
...As much as I care for the both of you, I’m afraid I’m here on business. An outlaw passed through here not long ago and left some contraband, and it might be here. I know you’re both honest, but what was left, it might be something you wouldn’t even notice. Do you mind if Tony and I search the place?
PEGGY
I don’t mind. What about you, Bucky?
BUCKY
The sheriff’s already seen every inch of MY bedroom. I don’t mind him looking again.
Both STEVE and TONY look uncomfortable for both the same and different reasons.
STEVE
Thank you, both of you. I promise we won’t be long. C’mon Tony.
STEVE and TONY disappear into the WHOREHOUSE
CUT TO:
5. INT. SALOON - DAY
The SALOON is mostly deserted. Travelling musician GALAGA GUY (mid-20s, quick-fingered, furtive, fun-loving) plays a ragtime rendition of the Galaga theme on a tinny upright piano. HAPPY HOGAN (mid-40s, friendly, eager, chatty) tends the bar, although at the moment he’s wiping down one of the tables. The only occupied table has several poker players sitting around it, including prospector ODIN ALLFATHER (70s/ancient, wise, stern, grouchy), army colonel CHESTER PHILLIPS (80s, curt, stubborn, commanding), and a STRANGER (60s, quiet, dangerous, gaunt) whose back is to the door. He’s dressed like an outlaw and wearing a wide-brimmed black hat. NATASHA enters through the classic double-doors and takes in the scene as she removes her lace gloves.
HAPPY
(blushing, with a noticeable bulge in his pocket)
G-good morning, Mrs. Romanov. The usual?
NATASHA
(with a wry grin)
Is there something in your pocket, Mr. Hogan, or are you just happy to see me?...
HAPPY blushes harder and walks behind the bar. NATASHA walks over to GALAGA GUY by the piano and playfully drapes herself over his shoulders. He jumps and plays some wrong notes at her touch, as if he’s been discovered doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing.
NATASHA (CONT'D)
...Sounds good, piano man.
GALAGA GUY
Th-thank you, Mrs. Romanov.
NATASHA smirks then walks away. A moment later she examines what she picked out of GALAGA GUY’s pockets: a quarter, a comb, and a hard candy. She sighs and puts them in her purse, then walks over toward the poker table.
ODIN
If you don’t stop cheating, Phillips, you and I are going to have words outside.
PHILLIPS
It’s not my fault you’re terrible at poker, Odin, you old spittoon.
STRANGER
Both of you ante up or shut up.
NATASHA
Why hello there, gentlemen.
ODIN
Good morning, Mrs. Romanov.
NATASHA
How much are we betting today?
NATASHA reaches to casually touch the tallest stack of chips, which is the one in front of the STRANGER. The STRANGER catches her wrist roughly. There’s a flicker of violence behind NATASHA’s eyes.
STRANGER
Where I come from, a lady knows not to touch a man’s things.
NATASHA
Where I come from, we say the same thing about men grabbing women’s wrists, Mr...
The STRANGER lets go of her wrist, then tilts his head so he and NATASHA can both look each other in the eye. There’s shocked recognition in both of their faces, as NATASHA sees her foster father IVAN PETROVICH for the first time in years, and IVAN sees his in-universe daughter.
NATASHA
(whispers)
Papa.
ODIN
Mrs. Romanov, I don’t believe you’ve met our third player. This is John Peters. He’s a bible salesman passing through on his way to Defender. John, this is Mrs. Romanov. Her late husband owned the gold mine.
IVAN
We’ve met.
NATASHA
Yes, John and I are old friends. How’s the bible-selling business these days?
IVAN
Busy as ever.
NATASHA
You always were gifted at making people think of their mortality.
(beat)
You know, I have a little time to myself today. Deal me in, please.
PHILLIPS
Now now, Mrs. Romanov—
IVAN
Deal her in, Colonel...
IVAN takes one of his tall stacks of chips and tosses it over to NATASHA.
IVAN (CONT'D)
...It’s been a long time since Mrs. Romanov and I played cards. I’d like to see how she’s progressed.
NATASHA gives IVAN a look that would kill a lesser man, and starts to play.
[CONTINUED]
Chapter 21
Notes:
Early update today!
CW: Reference to an abusive parent.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
CUT TO:
6. INT. JAILHOUSE - DAY
CLINT and THOR have made a proper mess searching through the desk and shelves of the small JAILHOUSE. There are two cells, one empty and one with a lump of blankets in the corner, with a dirty bare foot sticking out and an occasional snore escaping as a DRUNK (40s, permanently drunk, mercurial, petty) sleeps beneath. Behind the desk is a bulletin board with various wanted posters on it with recognizable bad guy faces from the AVENGERS’s past, including one for IVAN PETROVICH offering a $1,000 award, and one for AMORA ENCHANTRESS, offering a $10,000 award.
CLINT
(shaking out the pages of a book)
Check the tacks on the bulletin board, Thor. If it’s not there, we’ll only have the drunk left to search...
THOR runs his hands over the bulletin board, giving a clear shot of IVAN’s wanted poster before it falls to the ground after coming loose under THOR’s hands. He eventually gets to AMORA’s poster, and he stops, shame immediately clouding his face again.
CLINT (CONT'D)
...This isn’t your fault, Thor.
THOR
I know the blame is with Amora, but I am nonetheless responsible for dragging all of you through my own unfinished business.
CLINT
Thor, if this is the last time we face down someone on the team’s “unfinished business”, I’ll eat my bow. It comes with living our lives the way we do. And we’re a team, aren’t we? When it inevitably happens again, we’ll face it again like a team.
THOR
I am aware you’ve all made enemies, but it always seems to be mine that wreak the most devastation on the people and places I hold dear.
CLINT
Give it time, Thor. You’ll be up to your neck in our own unfinished business before you know it.
DRUNK (O.S.)
‘Scuse me?
Both THOR and CLINT turn in the direction of the DRUNK, who is now leaning on the bars and sticking head out, waving around a tin cup. CLINT goes wooden as he recognizes his father, HAROLD BARTON.
THOR
Yes?
HAROLD
Would either of you mind gettin’ a feller something to wet his whistle? Anything stronger than water would do nicely.
Before THOR can answer, CLINT is rushing out the door, breathing hard. THOR follows him to…
7. EXT. JAILHOUSE - DAY
There’s a small porch shaded with an overhang with a bench placed against the exterior wall of the JAILHOUSE. CLINT is already sitting on it, doubled over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, breathing hard.
THOR
Clint?
CLINT
(without moving)
Give me a minute, Thor...
They’re quiet for a moment except for CLINT slowly coming back from hyperventilating. THOR sits down next to him and almost puts hand on CLINT’s back, but hesitates, then brings it back to his knees, unsure of what to do. Eventually CLINT drops his hands and sits up.
CLINT (CONT'D)
...Looks like you get to meet some of my unfinished business before we even finished yours.
THOR
I don’t understand.
CLINT
(gestures inside)
Harold Barton, my father. Tony was right, our brains must be type-casting this place. The real Harold definitely fits as the perennial drunk who belongs in a prison cell.
THOR
Is he dangerous?
CLINT
To us now? Not at all. But let’s just say kids from safe, happy homes don’t run away and join the circus to become trick shot superheroes.
THOR
I’m sorry. It’s a terrible burden to have such a vile, shameful father.
CLINT
Not like I’m unique in that regard. One of these days, me, Nat and Tony are gonna get matching tee-shirts for the shitty dads club. Dammit, I was really hoping to never see the old bastard again...
CLINT stands up, as does THOR. CLINT’s face is determined, but he’s visibly swallowing down fear.
CLINT (CONT'D)
...Let’s go check dear old dad for artifacts.
THOR stops CLINT mid-stride with a hand to his shoulder.
THOR
You go up to the clock tower for reconnaissance. Leave Harold Barton to me.
CLINT
Thor—
THOR
You’ve been dealing with one of the monsters in my past all day. I can deal with one of yours...
CLINT looks like he’s going to object again, but THOR cuts him off.
THOR (CONT'D)
...We’re a team, aren’t we?
CLINT gives THOR a look, then visibly relaxes when he realizes he really doesn’t have to go back in there, that his team has his back on this one.
CLINT
Thank you. I know he’s no match for you, but watch him anyway. If he’s anything like the real Harold, he’ll go from happy to vicious at the drop of a hat. He might try something stupid.
THOR
(casually tosses his hammer in the air and catches it deftly)
I hope he does.
A small smile breaks across CLINT’s face, and a moment later he’s caught the porch overhang and hoisted himself up on top of it.
CLINT
I’ll give a signal if I see something important. And if you hear an owl hooting you’ll know Stark and Rogers are kissing in the whorehouse window.
THOR and CLINT both laugh and part ways, CLINT scrabbling like a monkey over the rooftops toward the CLOCK TOWER, and THOR back into the JAILHOUSE, looking gratified that he can do something to ease ENCHANTRESS’s burden on his friends.
CUT TO:
8. INT. PEGGY'S ROOM - DAY
PEGGY’S ROOM is neat and clean, but with enough scarves on the mirror and costume jewelry on the wardrobe to remind you where she works. STEVE is going through a hope chest at the foot of her bed, and TONY is digging through her underwear drawer, looking like he wants to die.
STEVE
That’s everyone’s rooms. I don’t think it’s here.
(waiting for Tony to say something)
You’ve been quiet for almost forty-five minutes, which I don’t think you’ve ever done, even in your sleep. What’s wrong?
TONY
Nothing’s wrong, Cap.
STEVE
You’re a much worse liar than you think you are, Tony.
TONY
I’m in a whorehouse with you and all your exes, ok? I’m allowed to feel a little weird about it.
STEVE
(considers for a moment)
I guess that’s fair.
TONY
(not expecting Steve to take that explanation so easily)
Alright.
(beat)
I’ll go see if Nat needs some help in the saloon, you go downstairs and play house, ok?
STEVE
(standing up)
What? Tony, those aren’t the real Bucky and Peggy. Why would I go talk to them?
TONY
That didn’t stop you from feeling them up on the porch.
STEVE
Feeling them up? I was checking their buttons and pockets and earrings to see if they were the artifact.
TONY
Well, thank you for being so thorough.
STEVE
Is this jealousy?
TONY
We’re in a Western, Steve, not a rom com.
STEVE
That wasn’t a no.
TONY
Alright, forget I said anything. It’s nothing important anyway.
STEVE
Nothing im— are you still mad about me saying us kissing on Nat’s floor was “nothing important”?
TONY
Can we talk about this later, when we’re not in a brain-whorehouse full of your ex-lovers?
STEVE
Who’d I take with me, Tony?
TONY
What?
STEVE steps into TONY’S space. The temperature in the room goes up considerably.
STEVE
If you’re going to psychoanalyze my actions, do it properly. Who’d I take with me to the house of my lovers, Tony?
(raises his hand to TONY’s chin to tip his face up, and make sure they’re making eye contact)
Who’d I end up in a bedroom alone with?
TONY takes a moment to register the now unguarded want in STEVE’s eyes, then grabs the back of his head and pulls him down for a searing kiss. Not to be outdone, STEVE, walks TONY back to the wall next to the window and presses him against it. Both of them seem intent on kissing the life out of each other. The hooting of an owl is audible outside.
STEVE
Is that an owl in the middle of the day?
TONY
If you’re listening to bird calls right now, I’m not doing this right.
STEVE
I’m not—
STEVE breaks off into a moan as TONY kisses his neck and presses his thigh between STEVE’s legs.
9. EXT. WHOREHOUSE - DAY
We’re seeing STEVE and TONY kiss from the outside through the window. STEVE releases the curtain holder to give them some privacy, including privacy from us.
[CONTINUED]
Notes:
No, boys, you're supposed to talk, not kiss! How are you so bad at talking!?
Also, idk who needs to hear this, but you don't owe abusive shitbags anything. Not a confrontation, not a goodbye, not an explanation, not closure. Cathartic "You don't scare me anymore!" moments are overrated. You know what's not overrated? Accepting help from the people who care about you to make sure you never have to see the asshole again.
Chapter 22
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
CUT TO:
10. INT. SALOON - DAY
NATASHA is sitting at the poker table in front of a mountain of poker chips, as well as both ODIN’s and PHILLIPS’s clothes (they’re both in their long johns). IVAN has a small stack of chips in front of him. GALAGA GUY is now at the bar chatting with HAPPY in an undertone, and both are watching the poker game with unease. The hooting of an owl is still audible, and NATASHA looked up slightly when she heard it, and quirked the corner of her mouth into a small smile.
NATASHA
(muttering to herself)
About time.
IVAN
All in.
NATASHA snaps out of her reverie and sees IVAN pushing all of his chips into the center of the pile on the table.
NATASHA
That’s not even a quarter of my chips. What do you say we make it interesting?
IVAN
I’m not taking off my clothes for you, Natalia.
PHILLIPS
Natalia? Who the hell’s Natalia?
NATASHA
I’m not interested in your clothes. But I’ll put in all of my chips if you throw in whatever’s in your pockets, your gun, the buttons on your shirt, and the buckle on your belt.
ODIN
What on earth is that good for?
IVAN
She means to humiliate me. To make me vulnerable. I do not expect you to understand...
IVAN stands up and puts all of the above items on the table. He takes out a pocket knife to cut the buttons off his shirt.
IVAN (CONT'D)
...You’ll sew those back on later.
NATASHA
You’ll sew them yourself, Ivan.
PHILLIPS
Ivan?
IVAN
No. When we’re done here, and I’ve taken all you have, you’re returning to California with me, Natalia, where you belong.
(laying his cards on the table)
Straight flush.
For a moment, there’s nothing but the light creak of the saloon doors moving with the wind. Everyone’s eyes are on NATASHA, who’s giving nothing away. Then she lays her cards on the table.
NATASHA
Royal flush...
NATASHA takes in all of the content on the table and runs her hands through all of it. IVAN looks furious enough to spit nails. NATASHA’s smug smile turns into a frown as she realizes that among everything on the table, nothing is the artifact.
NATASHA (CONT'D)
...Keep your money, Ivan. We’re done here.
NATASHA stands up and walks away.
ODIN
Does that mean we can have our clothes back?
PHILLIPS
Ivan Petrovich? The outlaw!?
Quick as a flash, IVAN takes the gun off the table and points it at NATASHA’s retreating back.
CUT TO:
11. EXT. AVENGER - DAY
High crane shot view of the town. There’s the sound of a gunshot. Crows that had been roosting in the CLOCK TOWER all take flight. The shot echoes all around the valley, so it’s like we’re hearing it over and over again.
CUT TO:
12. INT. PEGGY'S ROOM - DAY
TONY has his back to the wall, his neck covered in hickies. STEVE, on his knees, his shirt open in the front, stops unbuckling Tony’s belt and turns his head as if listening for the direction of the gunshot.
TONY
I am going to invent a time machine just to murder Anton Chekov.
STEVE
We need to—
TONY
Yeah, I know. Let’s go.
STEVE and TONY rush out of the room, putting their clothes back in order as they go.
CUT TO:
13. INT. JAILHOUSE - DAY
HAROLD's hands are against the wall, and THOR is down on one knee behind him, patting down the bottom of HAROLD's pant leg by his ankle. HAROLD is whining miscellaneous phrases about the impropriety of it and asking how soon he can get back to drinking. Upon hearing the gunshot, THOR stops and looks out the door. HAROLD takes advantage of the distraction and kicks THOR’s face with his foot still wearing a shoe. The kick catches THOR off-guard and he’s temporarily knocked back.
HAROLD
(turning around)
That’s what you get for puttin’ yer stinkin’ paws all over me, ya yellow—
THOR punches HAROLD in the gut, causing him to double over.
THOR
(standing up)
From your son...
THOR taps HAROLD on the back of the head with the hammer, instantly knocking him unconscious, leaving him sprawled out on the floor.
THOR (CONT’D)
...From his friends.
THOR runs outside into the street.
CUT TO:
14. INT. SALOON - DAY
The scene is exactly as we left it, with NATASHA frozen in place and IVAN standing behind her, pointing a gun at her back. Fast as lightning and fluid as silk, NATASHA turns and takes the gun out of IVAN’s hand, then uses the handle to hit IVAN in the back of the head, knocking him out cold. She stands over him for a moment, pointing the gun at his head, clearly debating whether to finish the job. Instead, she raises the gun and checks the chamber, then closes it and hurries out the door. GALAGA GUY peeks his head out from behind a bar stool. HAPPY sticks his head up over the top of the bar.
GALAGA GUY
What just happened?
PHILLIPS springs into action, immediately moving IVAN to a post and taking some rope sitting on top of a barrel to start tying his hands.
PHILLIPS
Two things. One, this is Ivan Petrovich. Wanted dead or alive in five states.
HAPPY
What’s the other thing?
PHILLIPS finishes tying up IVAN and moves to put his clothes back on.
PHILLIPS
I had a clear view of the chambers in that gun from where I was sitting. All of them were full. He didn’t miss, so he didn’t fire. That gunshot came from outside.
CUT TO:
15. EXT. CLOCK TOWER ROOF - DAY
CLINT has his gun pointed in the air, a thin trail of smoke coming out of the end. He is surrounded by the last of the crows flying away from the tower, but his eyes are fixed on something in the distance. As he hurries down the exterior of the tower, we get a shot of the face of the clock. It is now 11:55.
16. EXT. MAIN STREET - DAY
THE AVENGERS (minus BRUCE) assemble at roughly the same time at a place in the center of the town.
STEVE
What happened? Who fired the gun?
CLINT
I did. Who’s armed?
NATASHA
Me, Steve, you, Thor with his hammer. Why?
CLINT
Look...
CLINT points down main street in the opposite of the direction they’d originally come from. There is a giant, ominous green cloud closing in on the town like an unnatural dust storm.
CLINT (CONT'D)
...We’re out of time. She’s here.
THE AVENGERS all turn to face the cloud. It stops just at the edge of where the town turns into the desert. Out of the mist steps a black stallion carrying AMORA THE ENCHANTRESS (mid-40s/ancient, cruel, petty, scheming), wearing a green outlaw outfit and cold smirk. In her hand is a chain that extends backwards into the mist. It seems to grow or shrink with her movements.
ENCHANTRESS
Oh dear, am I early? I really did try to get here at high noon, but the anticipation was killing me. I even dressed for the part.
ENCHANTRESS dismounts her horse, gives it a tap on the flank to send it walking off. She’s still holding the chain in her hand.
STEVE
Give it up, Enchantress. One way or another, we’re getting out. You can’t keep us here.
ENCHANTRESS
Oh but I can. You see, I originally came here to kill two bilgesnipes with one arrow. First, I had a score to settle with a traitorous old flame of mine, and I’m pleased to say I’ve done that. Thank you, Thor. Not only do you make a wonderful pasta puttanesca...
THOR’S grip tightens on his hammer.
ENCHANTRESS (CONT'D)
...but you and your fellow warriors also served my second goal marvelously: to test a new application of magic. Now that I know this artifact’s power compounds itself the more minds are concentrated on the same purpose within it, I know I just need to place it somewhere crowded with minds intent on the same thing. I believe your Grand Central Station at rush hour will do nicely. And when that’s done, its power will grow enough for me to expand its boundary. As it takes in more minds and grows in potency and range, it’ll only be a matter of moments before the entire planet is trapped in a story. And if I happen to choose a setting where I’m a beloved despot for this planet and everyone’s intent is to worship me, well… it sounds like a great story to me.
CLINT
(quietly to himself)
Why do they always monologue?
STEVE
We’ll stop you.
ENCHANTRESS
Of course, how could I forget your disenchanted elevator? Speaking of which...
ENCHANTRESS snaps her fingers. There’s an explosion high on the hill, as the GOLD MINE collapses in on itself, blocking the path back to the elevator.
ENCHANTRESS (CONT'D)
...Mine safety is so precarious. I certainly hope you designed the elevators in your tower to be dynamite-proof, Mr. Stark.
TONY
Joke’s on you, because I totally did.
STEVE
Why are you here, Enchantress?
ENCHANTRESS
Oh dear, I thought that was obvious. I’m just here to pick up the artifact. But, I can’t have all of you knowing what it is or trying to steal it once it’s powering an Earth-sized spell field, so as much fun as this has been, I’m afraid this is where your stories come to an end.
CLINT
Cap?
STEVE
Take the shot.
CLINT
Finally.
Clint raises his gun and fires a shot at ENCHANTRESS. A giant green hand reaches out of the mist and catches the bullet directly in front of her, then withdraws.
ENCHANTRESS
I’m sorry, did I give the impression I would be killing you? He will.
The chain goes slack as THE HULK steps out of the mist, a black metal collar on his neck attached to the chain in ENCHANTRESS’s hand. He looks almost drugged, but he’s still very dangerous and very angry.
NATASHA
(softly)
Bruce.
ENCHANTRESS
I heard Loki said at his trial that he lost his gambit for your planet because he didn’t have a Hulk. Well, I took his advice to heart...
The CLOCK TOWER strikes noon.
ENCHANTRESS (CONT'D)
...There we are! Just in time after all. Hulk, be a dear and kill your friends for me.
THE HULK roars and braces himself to start running forward. ENCHANTRESS laughs and turns to walk back into the mist. THE AVENGERS start running forward to attack, as does THE HULK. But before they can meet, the CLOCK TOWER finishes its last chime, which gives way to a different sound: a cell phone ringing. Everyone stops and turns in the direction of the SALOON, where HAPPY is hiding behind a barrel just outside of it, peeking over the top to watch the events on MAIN STREET. He reaches into his pocket and takes out the item that had been causing the bulge before and he looks at it with a puzzled expression: it’s a smartphone. A beat while everyone realizes the artifact has just been revealed. Then there’s a mad scramble to get to it. HAPPY yelps, tosses it in the direction of the fight, and dives back into the SALOON. ENCHANTRESS drops the chain in her dash for the smartphone, which causes the chain to disintegrate, freeing THE HULK with a roar. It’s close, but ENCHANTRESS fires a beam of green energy at the phone just before NATASHA’s fingers can close around it. The phone turns that new energy into a swirling vortex of green.
FADE TO GREEN
Notes:
Props to the folks who guessed the phone was the artifact!
Chapter 23
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Roll for initiative,” said a very young-looking Rhodey with a smile.
Steve blinked and looked around, as did almost everyone else sitting around the table with him. The beat up table and chairs were huge; Steve’s feet barely scraped the ground. Everyone was wearing pajama pants and hoodies and—
“Nat, do you have braces?” said a beardless, teenage-looking Tony.
Rhodey snorted. “You would only notice two years into your degree that Nat had braces, Tones.”
“Degree?” said Thor, his gigantic frame barely contained by a tee shirt that said, “Avengers University Athletics Department.” Then he paused and said, “I’m studying anthropology.”
“Not right now you’re not,” said Rhodey. “C’mon, the test’s not ‘til Monday and it’s Friday night. And we’re at the final boss!”
“Holy shit,” said Bruce, who was sporting coke bottle glasses and a patchy mustache, “Holy shit."
Rhodey looked at Bruce with concern.
“Gah! Headache!” Tony acted poorly. “Rhodey, you’ve got my room key and you know my balance gets weird when I have migraines. Could you—”
“Yeah, fine, be right back. Roll for initiative while I’m gone,” said Rhodey as he stood up. Before he left the small common room, he pointed at Steve and said, “Do not let Tony cheat.”
“I won’t,” said Steve and his voice seemed to resonate a lot less than it usually did. Which was when Steve looked down and saw that the table and chairs weren’t huge at all, they only seemed to be relative to his pre-serum body. He barely suppressed a shocked gasp before Rhodey was out the door of the common room, leaving them at a table strewn with dice, figurines, snacks, and what looked like some version of the Western town where they’d been a few seconds ago, only it was printed on paper covered with hexagons.
Steve started to breathe hard, and he felt an old, familiar tightness in his chest.
“Where’s your rescue inhaler, Steve?” said Tony.
Steve couldn’t think. He didn’t know about an inhaler. He didn’t know anything .
Tony got up from his chair and put his hands on either side of Steve’s face, and looked at him with warm, brown eyes. “Steve, listen to the pull. Where’s it telling you your rescue inhaler is?” said Tony evenly.
Even though Tony’s face was different, it was him. And now Steve had an anchor in an unfamiliar place. So he closed his eyes, sunk into the warmth from Tony’s hands, and tried to feel the pull. He was Steve Rogers, a sophomore art major. Tony was his mechanical engineering major boyfriend, and the rescue inhaler was…
Steve pointed to what he now knew was his backpack up against the wall on the opposite side of the common room. Natasha tried to get to it, but she stumbled (Nat stumbling? This was a very weird universe) and Thor got there first. A few seconds later, Steve had the inhaler in his hand, and he was taking the medication, his chest loosening, his breathing starting to slow down.
“There you go, Steve, you’ve got it,” said Tony, who was now rubbing his back.
Steve nodded, and tried not to sink into the feeling of warm pressure from Tony’s hand.
“Since Steve is ok,” said Natasha, her voice now thick with a Russian accent. “What is going on?”
“Enchantress changed the setting again, clearly,” said Tony, who was looking over the table with interest. “What do you think, Bruce, third edition?”
“Fifth. Which means we didn’t time travel, we just aged down,” said Bruce.
“I don’t understand. Is this football? The pull is telling me I play a lot of a game called football,” said Thor.
Tony snorted and said, “This is like the opposite of football, Thor.”
“Oh my God,” said Natasha, who was running her hands over her acne-riddled face, “This is even worse than my floor.”
“Back up,” said Steve, who now finally felt like he had enough breath to talk. “The pull is telling me we’re college students at Avengers University, that we’re all friends with each other, and that we’re playing a game called—”
“Dungeons and Dragons,” Tony said with him, as he grinned broadly. “ God , this takes me back.”
“Y-yes. I… that’s my character,” said Thor, pointing to a small plastic figurine on the table wearing a winged helmet and a long, flowing red cape. “ He’s a prince from Asgard, but I am not.”
“And that’s Captain America,” said Steve, pointing to his own figurine. “I’m just… I’m just Steve.”
“Nothing ‘just’ about you, Steve,” Tony murmured, and Steve felt his heart skip a beat (although that might just be his heart condition).
Clint crumpled up a napkin on the table and pitched it toward the trash can in the corner. He missed it by a wide margin.
“I guess Hawkeye’s the one that can’t miss here,” said Clint, nudging his little plastic figurine.
“It looks like where we are now, everything that’s happened today is just an arc in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign,” said Bruce. Then he added, “Whoah, that’s meta.”
“That must be Enchantress’s figurine,” said Tony, indicating a small plastic figure of a blonde woman with a green tiara and thigh-high black boots with green O’s printed down the front of them. “So what do we do, smash the little plastic her, call it a day?”
“Destroying Enchantress might not free us,” said Thor. “And whatever Amora did before we came here changed more than the setting. Can’t you feel it?”
And Steve could. Everything felt more tenuous. Like something had been thrown off-balance.
“Whatever she’s done, it doesn’t change the fact that if we find and destroy the artifact, we can get out of here. That has to be our priority,” said Steve.
“It’s a smartphone,” said Bruce quickly.
“Yeah, we figured that out when it rang in the middle of the showdown at the O.K. Corral,” said Tony.
“I can’t believe there actually was something in Happy’s pocket,” Natasha grumbled.
“How’d you know it was a phone, Bruce?” said Clint.
Bruce shrugged and said, “Everything on Steve’s floor was small and round, except for that. I was literally right on top of it too, and I remember it felt weird, like Thor’s hammer does, but I chalked it up to me being a plastic token at the time. It wasn’t until I heard everyone’s educated guesses that I put two and two together,” said Bruce.
A thought struck Steve suddenly. “Everyone, turn out your pockets,” he said.
They did. All of them had smartphones.
“An iPhone , really?” said Tony with disgust, holding his smartphone like it was roadkill.
“Any of them feel like the artifact?” said Steve.
Everyone shook their heads.
“It might be Rhodey’s,” said Natasha.
“What might be Rhodey’s?” said Rhodey as he re-entered the room, before he tossed Tony a bottle of pills and a bottle of water, which Tony caught deftly. “Sorry, the RD held me up. I swear Amora’s got it out for me. Don’t be surprised if she stops by — what? What is it?” Rhodey finished when he noticed everyone in the room had immediately stiffened.
“Nothing. Rhodey, what time is it?” asked Natatasha.
Rhodey took out his smartphone. Nat snatched it out of his hands, but frowned. Guess that wasn’t it either.
“Nat, what the hell?” said Rhodey, snatching his phone right back.
“Sorry, mine’s dead,” said Nat. Then she added, “Are you wearing a ball-gag on your lockscreen?”
Rhodey looked at his phone, then rolled his eyes.
“Tony, if you hack my phone one more time, I’m telling the Dean you’re using the library computers to farm for gold in World of Warcraft,” said Rhodey.
“Only when people aren’t using them!” said Tony indignantly.
“What’d you all roll on your initiative checks?” said Rhodey as he sat down behind his DM screen and pulled out a pencil.
Everyone looked at each other.
“Hey, Rhodey,” said Bruce carefully. “Am I— is my character the Hulk right now?”
“What? Oh, that depends on what happens next. Which I’ll tell you, once you roll for initiative,” said Rhodey.
“Right, and we’re going to a new universe because…” said Bruce.
“Roll an arcana check,” said Rhodey.
Bruce picked up his 20-sided die, rolled, and said, “19.”
“Yeah, that’s good enough. You’re no expert on magic, but what you think happened was Enchantress poured a lot of her magical energy into the phone as a last-ditch attempt to stop you from getting it. The result is that you’re falling into another story-telling universe, but it feels off, like it might change again at any moment.”
“Yeah that’s it. That’s the feeling,” said Tony.
Rhodey shot Tony a puzzled look, before he added, “Anyway, the artifact is super unstable with all this extra magical energy that got slammed into it, and now it’s changing settings more or less at random. Whether or not you’re the Hulk will depend on whether it fits whatever storytelling universe you all are about to be cycling through. Same goes for whether Iron Man will have his suit, and whether Cap’s shield will be in a useable form or not.”
“Cycling? Like, changing every few minutes?” said Steve.
“How long depends on what the dice say but… yeah. We’re going to be touching on a few different universes before this fight is over,” said Rhodey.
“Where’s the phone now?” said Clint.
“You don’t know. You’ve got to find it, while you’re fighting Enchantress in the way each new universe calls for fighting with her. And she’s going to be looking for it too,” said Rhodey with a little self-satisfied smile.
“I will pay you $10,000 to just tell me where it is right now,” said Tony.
“Yeah, and where are you gonna get $10,000, Mr. Student Loans?” said Rhodey.
Tony seemed to be stunned speechless at the idea that he was living in a universe where he wasn’t rich, so Steve chimed in and said, “I guess… I guess we roll for initiative then. Since that’s how we’re fighting her in this — in the next universe.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” said Natasha, picking up her die.
As everyone rolled, Rhodey turned to Steve and Tony and said, “Oh by the way, are your characters dating yet? Please tell me they’re not going to pull the shitty communication thing again.”
Everyone at the table snorted. Tony and Steve looked at each other.
“There’s more imp— more urgent things happening now,” said Steve, catching himself this time. “We — they are going to talk about it once all of this is over.”
“I kind of want to end the arc on this encounter. Would it be alright if we just left it at, ‘They smooched, and they talked, and they’re dating now, the end’? This arc has already been so heavy on the role playing and I think I speak for everyone when I say, ‘Jesus Christ, Cap and Iron Man, quit drawing it out and get in the damn bedroom already’.”
Everyone at the table except Steve and Tony laughed and voiced their agreement, Thor with a hearty, “Hear hear!”
“Ah — do whatever you need to, Rhodey,” said Tony, not meeting Steve’s eye. But he was blushing . When was the last time Steve had seen Tony blush? Steve found new resolve in the promise he’d made earlier: they would definitely be talking about this later.
Everyone rolled their dice. Rhodey wrote down a few notes behind his DM screen and rolled himself, looked at his notes, and frowned.
“What is it?” asked Thor.
“Hm? Oh, I’m deciding what storytelling universe you’re going to next. But I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote this, because it just says, ‘D&D.’”
Everyone chuckled a little nervously.
“I guess we just do a regular attack round then?” said Tony.
“Nah, gimme a second to get you a proper universe,” said Rhodey rolling again. This time he looked at his notes and grinned.
“All of you are feeling somewhat… blocky,” said Rhodey.
And he was right. Steve felt his body start to change as the room began to dissolve into the same green energy that had taken them there.
"Blocky?" said Tony just before the room swirled into green. “What the hell does that mean?”
Notes:
Couldn't resist putting in a reference to another fic of mine. If you're looking for something fun to read while waiting for the next update, check out Stupid Sexy Avengers (specifically the chapter called "Bondage Forged in Fire") for the story behind the picture on Rhodey's phone.
Chapter Text
For Assistive Tech Users: This is styled to resemble a Tumblr post.
YouKnowWhoIAm
WelcomeToValChallah
Leet form of EnchantressxXx3nch4n72355xXx
THIS IS A CALLOUT POST: THE AVENGERS
- Freed their teammates from my enchantments without ever once considering if they were happier or better off there, which shows their unwillingness to center the needs and desires of others over their own.
- Physically cannot pass the Bechdel test, because there’s only one woman on their team.
- Regularly engage in harmful behavior.
- Specifically: Natasha Romanov punched me in the face, and I was harmed by her behavior.
AVENGERS DNI
CatNat
As soon as I’m three dimensional again I’ll show you “harmful behavior,” Enchantress.
RageAgainstTheMaGreen
MISAPPROPRIATING DISCURSIVE DIALECTIC TERMINOLOGY FOR THE PURPOSE OF SETTLING PETTY SCORES RATHER THAN DISMANTLING INSTITUTIONAL KYRIARCHY MAKES ME ANGRY!!!
SaveATargetNailAnArcher
Oh my God, I can’t believe one of the ways we’re doing this fight is internet-fighting. This is the dumbest spell ever, Enchantress.
steve_rogers
Looks like she’s getting sucked into the pull as much as we are now. She must not have the phone yet.
WelcomeToValChallah
Indeed. The rapid setting changes belie a lack of control, which would not be a problem if she had the artifact in her possession. However, I don’t believe we’ll be able to find the phone while we are in our current forms. We need to wait for the next setting change. I can already feel it happening.
YouKnowWhoIAm
Hey, before we go, you know what’s funny? With Nat’s reblog, we technically did just pass the Bechdel test.
7 notes
1. INT. BRIDGE
The viewscreen shows a Romulan bird of prey firing on THE AVENGER. CAPTAIN STEVE ROGERS shakes off the hit his ship just took from a photon torpedo. He takes in that he’s sitting in the captain’s chair on the BRIDGE and appears confused. With him are HELMSMAN CLINT BARTON, OPS AND SECURITY OFFICER THOR ODINSON, and COMMANDER NATASHA ROMANOV.
ROGERS
Sci-fi?
BARTON immediately starts pressing buttons
BARTON
Star Trek, specifically. Man, I wish Bruce was on the bridge, he knows this stuff backwards and forwards.
ODINSON blinks owlishly at the buttons at his station.
ODINSON
There’s a little blinking light here that I somehow know is a photon torpedo, about to hit deck ten.
ROGERS
What?...
The ship lurches with the impact of the torpedo. Sparks fly out of CLINT’s comms panel, although luckily he’s unharmed.
ROGERS (CONT'D)
...Stick with the plan, everyone: follow the pull for however we fight, but keep an eye out for the smartphone.
ROMANOV immediately stops running her fingertips over the points of her Vulcan ears and gets to work at her console.
ROMANOV
Aye, Captain.
ROGERS
Barton, evasive maneuvers, pattern gamma. Romanov, fire at will.
BARTON
Aye, Captain.
ROMANOV
Weapons are off-line.
ROGERS
Rogers to engineering, where the hell are my phasers and photon torpedoes?
STARK (COMMS)
(in a Scottish accent)
Give a man a minute, Captain. I’m still gettin’ used to the brogue.
ROGERS
(laughs)
It sounds good on you.
2. INT. ENGINE ROOM
CHIEF ENGINEER TONY STARK speaks into a comms panel as he presses buttons on a control screen.
STARK
Much as I’m enjoying exploring your accent kink, I should probably tell ye we just got phasers back online. I’ll have torpedoes in a few, but shields aren’t going to last if we keep taking knocks like this.
ROGERS (COMMS)
Can you reroute emergency power to the shields?
STARK
I’m givin’er all she’s got, Captain.
3. INT. BRIDGE
ROGERS
Then let’s make it count. Romanov, phasers!
4. EXT. SPACE
THE AVENGER maneuvers around the WARBIRD and fires phasers. The WARBIRD returns fire with phasers of its own.
5. INT. BRIDGE
BANNER (COMMS)
Banner to the Bridge
ROGERS
Bruce? I’m guessing you’re in... sickbay?
6. INT. SICKBAY
Orion DR. BRUCE BANNER is using a medical tricorder to scan new people coming in with various injuries and running triage in SICKBAY.
BANNER
You’d guess correctly. As someone who has watched more Star Trek than all of you put together, I suggest you run internal sensors and external scans looking for 21st century technology. That’s the kind of thing that’s detectable in a Trek universe, and it’ll give us a lead on the phone.
7. INT. BRIDGE
ROMANOV
Scanning. Internal sensors are reading a small piece of 21st century technology in cargo bay three.
ROGERS
Commander Romanov, you have the bridge. Keep us alive long enough for me to get to cargo bay three.
The ship takes a rough hit. Sparks fly from the ceiling and detritus spills out of a panel on the wall.
ODINSON
Direct hit. Shields are down. Captain, we’re being boarded.
CAPTAIN ROGERS gets up from the captain’s chair and LIEUTENANT COMMANDER ROMANOV takes his place. He runs into the TURBOLIFT.
ROGERS
Stick to the plan!
(to the TURBOLIFT)
Deck four!
8. INT. HALLWAY
CAPTAIN ROGERS exits the TURBOLIFT and runs down the HALLWAY. As he’s running, several ROMULANS transport on board in his way, and immediately open fire. ROGERS hides behind a corner, takes out his phaser and returns fire, stunning the ROMULANS in his way. He continues down the HALLWAY until he gets to just outside CARGO BAY THREE. Romulan CAPTAIN AMORA of the ENCHANTRESS transports there as well. She tries to fire her phaser at CAPTAIN ROGERS, but he immediately engages her in hand-to-hand combat. After some back-and-forth, they both tumble through the doors to...
9. INT. CARGO BAY THREE
Inside are various blue barrels and boxes full of materials. CAPTAIN ROGERS looks up and sees a 21st century smartphone sitting on top of one of the barrels. He tries to get up to go for it, but CAPTAIN AMORA grabs his heel. They continue to tussle, but then the ship takes another hard hit. In fact, it hits so hard that the edges of the room begin to dissolve into green energy.
AMORA
No!
She lunges for the smartphone, but the ship lurches with another hit, knocking it off the barrel and out of her grasp as the world dissipates into swirling green mist.
FADE TO GREEN
Once upon a midday sucky, six great heroes were unlucky,
All were trapped by magic and their way out was to them unknown,
So they stumbled through each story, not for fame or wealth or glory,
But to find their misplaced quarry: hidden somewhere was a phone,
“It’s a poem guys,” said Tony, “Quick, tell me what rhymes with ‘phone.’”
“I hate rhyming,” Clint did moan.
Ah, the fireplace cracked and sputtered, sending ghosts of ash that fluttered,
Over leather tomes and other bits and bobs of haunting tone,
This feels Edgar Allen Poe-y, Steve thought to himself, although he,
Knew it didn’t matter, so he went back to the plan he’d known,
“Everybody search the room until the phone’s location’s known,
Pick a section: that’s your zone.”
Suddenly they heard a shrieking, causing them to cease their seeking,
Something out the window beggared entry like an evil crone,
“Leave it closed!” Natasha shouted, but her warning then was flouted,
For Thor’s course was not rerouted. Window open, in she’d flown,
Feathered, green Amora as a bird had through the window flown,
Beady eyes in firelight shone.
“She’s the raven!” Tony snorted, all attempts to search aborted,
“We should put her in a cage and let her whine and quoth and groan.”
“No,” said Thor, “She is a danger, though this universe did change her,
Just to make our strange day stranger, still her magic is her own.
Our best course is to ignore her, simply leave her on her own.”
Quoth Amora, “Where’s the phone?”
Seconds later she was flying into all their faces, crying,
“Where’d you hide it? Give it to me! Tell me if its place is known!”
One degrading swat-fight later, no one’s dignity left greater,
All they could do was berate her, “We can’t find the magic phone!
Leave us be to search, and maybe then we’ll find the goddamn phone!”
Quoth the smartphone: *its ringtone*
Then they scrambled towards the ringing where the phone was sweetly singing,
All were fighting tooth and nail to get it, take it for their own,
But the air around them sizzled, as the setting cracked and fizzled,
All their essences then drizzled into settings next unknown,
Phoneless all, they gave up, waiting for the setting next unknown,
“Fuck this spell,” they all did groan.
For Assistive Tech Users: This is styled to somewhat resemble a paperback novel.
“Why do I keep getting cast as a detective?” asked Tony as he stroked his meticulously groomed facial hair and fiddled with his walking stick. When he heard the sound of his voice, he grimaced and added, “And why do I keep getting accents? What am I now, French?”
“Belgian,” Natasha corrected without lowering her pistol or looking away from Amora. Not even a minute ago they’d been sitting in a circle, with Inspector Steven Rogers and private detective Anton “Tony” Stark standing in the center of the room, the latter about to announce the identity of the killer of the Lord of the Avenger manor. Of course, since their own brains were casting the parts, the culprit was obvious, so before Tony could say anything, Natasha, the victim’s widow, had taken the bag from Amora, the maid, pulled the murder weapon out of it, and pointed the gun at her before she could try anything. Clint, the groundskeeper, was tying her up as they spoke, and Amora was not shy about voicing her displeasure.
“As soon as we switch universes again I am turning all of you into vermin,” spat Amora before Clint could stuff something in her mouth.
“I’m getting tired of changing costumes,” said Steve as he pulled at the starched collar of his policeman’s uniform. “This look-and-fight approach isn’t working. There has to be some way we can get to the phone before we change universes again.”
“Maybe that’s the problem,” said Bruce, the local doctor, “We’re always chasing it. But that runs against the grain of the story, right? Maybe we should try to let the narrative bring it to us.”
“How could we do that?” asked Thor, the wealthy Australian interloper. His eyes widened at his accent, then he added, “Blimey, am I supposed to be drunk?”
“I mean, you’re Australian, so maybe,” said Clint.
“Who’s the main character here?” asked Bruce.
Everyone looked at Tony.
“Don’t look at me. This is just a costume and a funny voice,” said Tony.
“It’s not though, is it?” said Steve, turning to face Tony directly. “I think you keep getting cast as a PI because you fit the part. You’re… well, you’re perceptive when you want to be, and empathetic, and incandescently brilliant, and…” Steve trailed off as the color rose in his cheeks, and Tony had to remind himself that if he dragged Steve off to a bedroom to blow him then and there, they might get caught hard and panting in See Spot Run. Then Steve found his voice and said, “Those are all attributes of a good PI in a detective novel. So let’s play this out, detective. A phone’s gone missing. You’ve concluded your investigation. What were your findings?”
So Tony took a breath, and tried to feel the pull.
“I think everyone but Steve has to be seated around me,” Tony said. “It’s part of the setting, somehow.”
Everyone took their places around the sumptuous manor sitting room that smelled of old money and family secrets. Even Enchantress stopped trying to shout things through her gag as she sat, rapt with attentive curiosity. Even the room itself, from the dusty upright piano to the silent grandfather clock, to the soft eyes of Lady Maria’s portrait over the fireplace — all seemed to lean in as if waiting with baited breath for Tony to speak.
A man could get used to this.
“Thank you for coming here today. At the beginning of this case, I was presented with two mysteries. The first, the murder of the lord of the manor, has been resolved as you all know. The second, however, is the disappearance of the telephone — God it’s weird saying ‘telephone.’ Sorry, hang on, let me get back into it. — These incidents were seemingly connected, and yet, when Ms. Amora was apprehended by the very capable Lady Romanov, she did not lunge in any particular direction for it, even though the merest touch was necessary to regain control of it, which leads me to conclude that she herself does not know where it is.”
Amora said something through the gag that sounded like, “No shit, Sherlock.” Tony’s hypothesis that the Asgardian Shakespeare in the Park schtick was just an act gained a new piece of evidence.
“When the inhabitants of this manor visited Dr. Banner’s quarters to divine information on the artifact, we had all assumed that the only pertinent information available to us was concerning what it might look like and which floor it might be on. However, there was one other piece of information that was known to us: a clue that had no use at the time but now has proven vital to the conclusion of this case,” said Tony.
“Better get to your point fast, detective, we’re running out of time,” said Clint uneasily as he eyed a few wisps of green swirling outside the window.
“Yes, you’re quite right, Mr. Barton. We have spent a great deal of time already in this particular story. And yet, if you will turn your attention to the grandfather clock, you will see no time has passed at all.”
“That’s just because the clock’s stopped, Tony,” said Steve with a frown. “Grandfather clocks like this—”
“Steve, I grew up in a mansion like this one. And even if I didn’t I’d know how a pendulum clock works,” said Tony breaking character for a second to voice his annoyance.
“Sorry, continue, detective,” said Steve hastily. The green energy was now dissolving everything outside of the room.
“As I was saying. The clock has stopped. You’ll note the time is 6:07 A.M. Captain Rogers, am I mistaken in noting that you leave for your daily exercises at—”
“6:00, every day,” said Steve with a grin.
“And it was just after you left that our series of misfortunes began, no?” said Tony with a matching grin.
Steve walked over to the grandfather clock and opened the glass door in front of the pendulum. There at the bottom, stopping its movement, was the phone.
“NO!” shouted Enchantress through the gag as she struggled against her bindings.
“Well done, detective,” said Steve as he dropped the phone to the ground and crushed it with the heel of his boot.
Notes:
The Hulk's read his Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza, ok?
Here's a link for folks who want to see a bigger version of Clint's and the Hulk's Avatars.
"Where was the phone in the Lego universe and the Tumblr-verse?" Taking the pictures and displaying the Tumblr post, obviously ;) Side-note: that actually is why the quality varies a lot in the Lego pics, I only had my crummy old phone to take all the pictures needed for this fic, here and for the food photography in Thor's chapters and for the I, Spy page. Also I'm, like, not even remotely close to a photographer. Ah well, I still think it turned out ok.
The Raven, by Edgar Allen Poe (which is the poem this parodied) is taught in every school in the USA multiple times over before you're done with your education, but for non-Americans/non-English-as-first-language folks reading this, you can find The Raven here. Also, in case the Belgian accent didn't give it away, Tony's playing the part of a pseudo-Poirot in an Agatha Christie novel at the end.
I can't believe we're getting to the end of this monster fic. Thank you to everyone who's been along for the ride, the comments and kudos are all very appreciated. Coming up, the thrilling conclusion!
Chapter 25
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Is this dubstep?” asked Steve over the choppy, arrhythmic sounds coming out of the garage’s speakers.
“Pause it, JARVIS,” said Tony as he rolled out from under the 1920’s Rolls Royce he was working on and sat up. His black tank top and jeans were half covered in grease, and he was clearly up to his elbows in whatever he was doing to the Rolls. Steve couldn’t recall if he’d ever found this look attractive on anyone else, but on Tony it was damn near close to lingerie.
“Not every weird thing coming out of a speaker is dubstep, Steve,” said Tony with a shake of his head and fondness in his voice. “Also, aren’t you supposed to have super-hearing? I’m surprised you don’t recognize it.”
“JARVIS, play back the last 10 seconds of whatever Tony was just listening to,” said Steve. He listened, and then he grinned.
“Speed read of The Maltese Falcon? I know what happened on your floor, but I never took you for the mystery type,” said Steve.
“Oh, I’m not. Three chapters in and I already know whodunit. But noir novels have nice imagery to enjoy while you wait for the detectives to catch up, and today felt like a day for revisiting the classics,” said Tony. He got up off the floor and added, “Anyway, I had a blind friend in college who turned me on to listening to books at high speed. Gives my eyes a break from reading code and lets me work while I read.”
“You can work and read at the same time?” asked Steve.
“Don’t tell Pepper,” said Tony.
“No, I — you’re incredible, do you know that?” said Steve.
Tony immediately became very preoccupied with wiping the grease off his hands with a nearby towel. Anybody who said Tony Stark was full of himself had clearly never met the man Steve had been getting to know over the past few years. Anything positive Tony thought of himself was more than merited, by Steve’s estimation, but whenever Steve tried to say anything to that effect, Tony always turned into some kind of shrinking violet. Steve wondered briefly if that had more to do with the messenger than the message, before he remembered that the time to wonder things like that was after the conversation he’d come down here to have: the one he’d promised to have in the elevator after Thor’s floor, and again around the tabletop game.
There was quiet for a few seconds, before Tony said, “Has Thor left yet?”
“Yeah. Asgard was eager to get their escaped prisoner back. Also to figure out how she got out and who else might be missing. If the breach is as bad as they think it is, we could be busy with Thor’s enemies for a while.”
“Ouch, he is not going to like that,” said Tony with a wince. “JARVIS? Ask Jane to call me later tonight. We need to up her security and deal her into Operation Keep-Thor-From-Combusting-With-Guilt.”
“I already took care of it. She’s going to be living with us for a while, at least until we get an idea of how bad it is,” said Steve.
Tony’s eyes lit up with excitement.
“JARVIS, we’re going to need more lab space,” said Tony quickly. “Start working on finding—”
“Tony, I know you’re really excited about another genius coming to live with us, but if I put off what I came down here to say any longer I’m going to lose my nerve. And I really don’t want that to happen,” said Steve.
Tony stopped abruptly, then went back to looking at anything but Steve as he leaned back against the car and crossed his arms defensively.
“Steve, listen,” Tony said carefully. “I’ve been thinking a lot since, uh… since everything. And I realized, at the end of the day, we were under a magic spell. I know that anything we did needs to be seen through that lens.”
“Oh,” said Steve, feeling his heart sink.
“It’s just... the pull was clearly coming from our own brains, and I’m not going to hold you to whatever my brain-pull made you feel was right at the time.”
“What?” said Steve.
Tony grunted with annoyance and said, “I’m sorry the way I feel about you made you do what you did, ok? I would’ve apologized earlier but it turns out there’s no Hallmark card for ‘Whoops, a magic spell made your best friend’s teenage pining bleed over into you.’ I feel terrible for taking advantage of you before I realized what was going on. And I’m at peace with the fact you don’t — I’ve had one-sided crushes before, ok? I’m a grownup, I can deal with it. I don’t want you to feel like it’s your responsib— you want to back up a bit there, Steve? You’re really close to mmmfffff.” Whatever Tony was about to say was cut off by Steve’s lips against his.
Tony didn’t move. For a moment it felt like he was getting ready to kiss back when he pulled away and said, “Um… it looks like the spell might have some lingering effects. So maybe we should just take a step back and count to ten or something.”
“I’ve felt this way long before the spell, Tony,” said Steve as he reached up to caress Tony’s cheek. Tony still wasn’t making eye contact with him.
“Yeah, this is literally a dream I had last week,” said Tony uneasily. “Damn, I hope Strange can help with this. Give me ten minutes to take a really, really cold shower and we can go.”
“JARVIS?” said Steve. “How many times in the past six months have I asked you to look up ways to tell your best friend you’re in love with him?”
“Thirty-seven times,” said JARVIS coolly.
Tony blinked as if taken aback, then finally looked Steve in the eye when he said, “That’s more than once a week.”
“You remind me that I’m in love with you more than once a week,” said Steve. “You remind me every day.”
Tony chewed his lip a bit and said, “I’m gonna need a second to process this.”
Now that he’d said what he came here to say, Steve felt his bravery start to wane. “Of course,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets and stepping back a bit. “I know this is a lot to put on you. And I don’t want to move faster than what you’re comfortable with.”
“Second’s over,” said Tony, as he reached behind Steve’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
They smooched.
And they talked.
And they’re dating now.
The end.
Notes:
This ending was brought to you by dm!Rhodey, from chapter 23.
And that's it! Thanks to all of you for the kind comments and for coming along on this wacky ride. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing (and coding, and photographing) it.
Chapter 26: EPILOGUE
Summary:
I have been vibrating out of my skin in an attempt not to spill the beans on this epilogue update, and I'm so glad I can finally share it with you all!
When I went to zappedbysnow with the idea for the comic epilogue on this story I knew she'd bang out something amazing, and BOY did she deliver (seriously, the melted shield? The puppets?? If you never see any more fics from me, you'll know it's because I combusted with excitement). Check out her other amazing work on her tumblr and patreon!
Also, for assistive tech users, there's hidden text describing the comic pages in lieu of alt text.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Three pages of comics. The first page shows an elevator door dinging open, revealing Steve kissing Tony's neck as Tony grabs onto his shirt and looks over his shoulder. Tony: "Um, Steve?" Steve: "Mm?" Tony: "Why is your room a comic strip?" There's two panels depicting Steve's quarters, one with a chair, a lamp, a rug, a view of the NYC skyline, and a cabinet with books on it and the shield resting in a stand, and the other a shot of a kitchen with a small island.
The second page shows Steve and Tony standing in the living room area we just saw in the last two panels, overlaid with the conversation Steve: "Oh yeah, Strange said the artifact left a lot of residual magic here. It'll dissipate eventually but it'll flare up like this from time to time until it does." Two panels of a close up on Steve and Tony, the first just of them talking, the second of Steve counting off on his fingers while Tony looks concerned. It's overlaid with the conversation Tony: "Wait, you've been living in a comic strip since the Enchantress thing?" Steve: "Oh no. It's been a lot more than just a comic strip." Tony: "What?" Steve: "Yeah, just this past week it's been... a silent movie, an infomercial--". New panel. Steve's speech bubble says "A puppet show", and the panel shows the same living-room setting, only with the background looking flatter and curtains on either side. Hand-puppet versions of Steve and Clint are talking to each other, with puppet-Clint saying "Hi Steve! Oh my God! Where are my legs!". The next panel has Steve's speech bubble saying "An Ikea Catalogue--" and shows the living room setting with more dynamic lighting, the word "IKEA" overlaid above the scene, and the words "MORABO sofa $399" next to the chair. The next panel has Steve's speech bubble saying "A Dali painting -- that one was wierd --" The same living room scene, only the books are floating and have odd markings on the front, the shield is melting off the cabinet, the lamp shade is floating off the lamp, and the NYC cityscape has the buildings in contorted shapes and the statue of liberty pointing its torch toward the viewer. The next panel cuts back to Steve with a hand on his chin and another hand still counting, as if in thought. Steve: "A radio play, a cooking show--" The final panel shows Tony taking Steve by the wrist and leading him back toward the elevator. Tony: "C'mon, we're going to my floor."
The final page starts with a panel of Steve somewhat resisting, and Tony making a dubious face. Steve: "Wait, it'll be back to normal in--" Tony: "Do you really want to risk a live tv broadcast of what we're about to do?". Tony's back in the elevator and Steve's being pulled into it. Steve: "I need to move floors." Tony: "Come stay on mine. Plenty of room." The elevator doors close on them with a ding, but Steve's speech bubble sticks out saying "Oh. Um... Alright. Thank you, Tony." The final panel just says "The End."
Notes:
EDIT: Thank you all for the huge outpouring of love for this fic. It's been wonderful reading all of your comments.
For those who didn't want it to end, I'd recommend checking out part 2 of the series for more shenanigans with mixed media magic.
And for folks who want different storytelling through weird media, I'm just gonna leave this here.
Chapter 27: BONUS ART
Summary:
It's hard to pick a favorite chapter in this story, but Clint's floor was so much fun to create and collaborate on with anon artist that I reached out and asked if they'd be interested in making a cover for it, so that it could be turned into an actual physical book to put on my shelf, plus an extra physical copy to auction off in the 2022 Marvel Trumps Hate auction. As I knew they would, they absolutely blew me away yet again with their creativity and talent, and because I'm incapable of keeping good things to myself, here's a bonus art update for y'all.
Chapter Text
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