May 7th, 2013. 20:45
Having your mentally unstable and superstrong mother-in-law sulking on a bench in your Entrance Hall after she socked you in the jaw within seconds of meeting you is something that I would've considered somewhat out of the ordinary in my previous life.
Now it was just the latest thing to happen in the crazy cascade of occurrences that my new life had become.
Looking away from the frustrated Alisa, I glance at Trish from the corner of my eye. The beautiful blonde is looking somewhat haggard, but it's impossible to tell whether it's from Harper's brutal training regimen or from her mother hanging pitifully on her arm.
A bit of both, probably.
Dorothy was cradling her arm (even though I made sure that it had fully healed already) and was glaring daggers at Alisa whenever she thought I wasn't looking, even though she was making sure that she kept Trish in between herself and Jessica's resurrected mom.
She even managed to summon a couple of tears whenever she did catch me looking in her direction, adding a few sniffles for dramatic effect.
It seems Trish isn't the only Walker with a knack for acting then.
"You good?" I rumble at what was technically my sister-in-law.
Trish looks conflicted, and I can spot the miniscule twitches in her muscles and overall stance as she slightly leans away from her mother. Clearly, she hasn't forgotten the abuse that her mother put her through during her childhood. Still, Dorothy had been brutally attacked by Alisa, and it seemed for the best to just fix her up instead of sending her off to the mainland with a mangled arm.
"I will be. I'm tired though. I'm going to bed. Goodnight Michael, Alisa. …Mother."
And with those words, Trish smoothly moves her arm out of Dorothy's grip, quickly turning on her heel and stalking off towards the elevators at the far end of the Hall. Her mother seems gob-smacked for a moment, but a quick glance at Alisa's intensely focused expression quickly snaps her out of it.
"Wait! I came all this way just to see you, can't we first-"
"No, Mom! We can't! Because you didn't come just to see me, or Jess, did you?! Jess told me that you tried calling her just days after she got on the news fighting off the Chitauri, after years pretending she didn't even exist! She told me how you've tried to haunt her every step for a year! If it wasn't for Phineas and Othrys, you'd be pestering her every day, desperate to leech off of her fame, just like you did with me! That's all you are, just this… this… this fucking parasite! Well, guess what, mom! Jess and I are doing fine without you! Better than fine: she's going to be a mom, and I've got powers and we'll never look back at our fucked up childhood. We don't need you in our life, and we don't want you either! Just… just leave us alone." Trish finishes in an exhausted tone, the raging fire that filled her gaze slowly dissipating.
Not even bothering to give her mother a second look, she turns away and continues on to her room.
It's only my superior senses that allow me to pick up on her hitched breathing and the soft pattering sounds of tears falling against the marbled floor.
For a moment, the three of us merely look at Trish's retreating back in silence, before it's broken by the surprisingly dry voice of Alisa.
"I like her. She's got spirit."
Her words break the stunned Dorothy out of her funk, and she's quick to turn on the psychotic woman, who seems eager to respond to the challenge, leaping out of her seat with a worrying gleam in her eye. While Dorothy blanches and quickly tries to back away, Alisa doesn't seem to get far, seemingly frozen in place, even tilted forwards as she is.
Both women's eyes are wide as they stare at Alisa's frozen lunge, until I speak up, irritation clear in my voice.
"Sit. Down." I bite out, flexing my psychokinesis and shoving Alisa back down onto the bench.
Restraining a superstrong woman isn't the easiest task, but considering the fact that I've ripped entire skeletons of Eldritch Abominations straight out of their fleshy bodies, this was rather doable. Even if Alisa had managed to break my hold, I still had the Mind Stone to boost my powers, so there really wasn't any danger of her managing to get her hands on Dorothy's neck.
Not that I was going to tell Dorothy that. That woman could use some humbling. She could do with a lot of humbling, actually.
I turn my heavy gaze on the woman in question, who seems to somewhat shrink in on herself, though she doesn't back away from me.
"Leave." I simply order, and despite her fear of me, Dorothy still tries to stand her ground.
"Surely I can at least stay the night? I'm an injured woman and-"
"Your arm has fully healed. You're not fooling anybody, cradling it like that. Your fine. Physically at least."
"… but your ferry, it's closed for the rest of the day!" she's quick to respond, and though her face does an adequate job of hiding it, I can still pick up a sense of satisfaction from her defenseless mind.
I don't even bother responding this time, merely waving my hand in a circular motion, glowing sparks shooting off as I brush it through the air. Following my movements, a glowing circle springs into existence, large enough that I could walk through it without even having to duck my head. Briefly the air inside the casting circle shimmers, before the docks on the other side of the East River can be seen.
Looking back towards the gob smacked Dorothy, I merely raise a single eyebrow.
"Leave." I repeat, but from her emotions and swirling thoughts, I can tell that even now the woman is desperately trying to look for excuses to remain in Othrys.
Pity clearly didn't work, so instead she settles on… indignation, coupled with guilt? How is she gonna-
"Really now, young man! I took in your wife when she had no-one else! I'm her mother, your mother-in-law! You have no right to treat me-!"
-Ah. Bad idea.
That's as far as she gets, because with an animalistic roar, Alisa has once again launched herself at Dorothy, her eyes wide and her fingers splayed. Her killing intent is clear to see, even to someone like Dorothy, who lets a terrified scream as she back-pedals fast enough to trip over her own feet.
This time I let Alisa get significantly closer before I once again shut her down with my telekinesis, her fingernails mere inches away from Dorothy's terrified eyes.
"You are not her mother! I am! I am her mother, no-one else! She's mine!" the damaged woman screams, before I flex my power and she's sent careening back into her seat again, though this time I don't release my hold on her.
Looking at the prone Dorothy, who keeps staring wide-eyed at the fuming Alisa, I speak up, seeing her gaze snap towards me.
"I have every right to treat you this way, Miss Walker. In fact, it's because of your relationship with Jessica and Trish, however toxic it may be, that I'm not treating you even worse. I'd just as happily hand you over to the police, or throw you into my dungeons, but even as much as they despise you, they still consider you their family, so they'd protest. That doesn't mean that you are wanted in their lives and if I ever catch you trying a stunt like this again, the police will be the least of your worries."
I stalk closer to her, sinking to a knee and leaning forwards so that my burning eyes are less than a foot away from the prone Dorothy's wide-eyed and panicked look.
"The reason why I allow you to be treated this way is very simple, Miss Walker: you're an abuser. I hate abusers." I growl out lowly, making sure only she can hear me, my eyes two burning infernos.
"… I… I'm not… I-I would never-" Dorothy stammers, but I shut her down with a single word.
"Fatty."
It takes a few moments before I see recognition flood her eyes and mind, and in a way that's even worse. It meant that this type of abuse of her own daughter, where she forced Trish to throw up in order to slim down, was so casual, so fucking easy, she had forgotten about it completely.
"Get the fuck off my Island."
More of my rage must've slipped into my voice than I had actually intended to, because Dorothy pales even further, before she scrambles to her feet without a word, nearly leaping through the portal without looking back. With a annoyed snort that sends steam blasting from my nostrils, I allow the portal to snap shut behind her, before I rise and look at the still bound Alisa.
Right. One less than ideal mom down. One more to go.
I quickly decide that, whatever I'll end up deciding on doing about Alisa, it's better if I do it somewhere more private. The confrontation with Dorothy already had the majority of the people currently still in the Hall glancing our way with varying levels of subtlety (ranging from barely to nonexistent). I anticipated that dealing with Alisa was definitely going to be worse than that, and there was no need to have it out in public like this.
Loosening my psychic hold over the woman (though I'm keeping my powers ready to respond at a moment's notice) I quickly create a second portal, this one leading to my office.
"Follow me."
I don't bother looking over my shoulder as I step through the glowing ring of power and I don't need to: within moments I can feel Alisa quickly stand up and step through the portal after I went through. I let the portal snap shut as the soft LED's around my office smoothly light up, revealing the gleaming surfaces and intricate furniture, the very epitome of tasteful luxury.
Standing in the middle of it, the somewhat bedraggled Alisa Jones definitely appears out of place.
I let myself flop down on my favorite sofa in the lounge area of my office with a heaving sigh, easily picking up a crystal glass from a small table beside me, as the doors of my drinking cabinet seemingly open themselves, a fancy bottle flying out towards me. The top is quickly screwed off by an invisible force, before I extend my glass and allow myself to pour myself a generous helping of Limoncello, before I direct the bottle to gently land on the table at my side.
Telekinesis. Not only great at combating the evils of the multiverse, but also surprisingly effective at pouring yourself a drink when you don't want to get up from your comfy seat.
I suppose it could also work wonderfully in concert with a TV-remote for similar reasons, but since all devices in Othrys are voice-controlled, I haven't had an opportunity to try it out.
Raising the glass to my lips, I see that Alisa is still standing in the same spot, appearing somewhat… confused. I wonder why. Indicating the sofa on the other side of the coffee table across from me, I give her a rather pointed look.
"Sit."
She sniffs at the authorative tone, but nonetheless acquiesces, taking a careful seat across from me, one the very edge of the sofa, looking as if she's ready to bolt at any moment. I'll take it for now, I suppose, and gratefully knock back a significant part of my Limoncello, smacking my lips with a satisfied sigh.
For a moment, silence falls between us, before Alisa speaks up, sounding surprisingly calm and not… murder-y.
"Aren't you supposed to drink ridiculously expensive whiskey instead of… whatever that is?" the superwoman asks with an arched eyebrow.
I let out a slight smirk as I look at the bottle beside me, my smile turning somewhat more wistful as I spot the hastily scribbled message written with marker in the margin of the label.
If I can't stop you from drinking crap, I can at least stop you from drinking cheap crap. Am I the best or what? – Love, the greatest woman you've ever known
"It's an acquired taste." I say softly, before looking back at my mother-in-law.
She seems unsure of what to do, and doesn't press me further, curling slightly in on herself as her eyes start flitting around the room. No doubt scanning for exits and defensive positions or something like that.
"Why are you here? Why now?" I suddenly ask tiredly.
I know that Alisa has an unhealthy obsession with Jessica, but I also thought that it was precisely because she feared that obsession that she's been staying out of Jess' life, scared of what she might do, who she might harm, if her instability makes her become volatile against her daughter's friends and loved ones.
While I never watched Jessica Jones Season 2, I did read through the wiki and from what I remember, Alisa's fears were entirely grounded. Thinking on the Netflix shows is so… weird. They just used to be entertainment, a show that I'd watch from the comfort of my couch. Now I was starting a family with Jessica, I have utterly decimated the Defender's overarching villains and probably butterflied away the plots of both Luke Cage and Iron Fist. As for Matt Murdoc and Wilson Fisk… honestly, considering how close I was to finally completing the final Steps of my Plan, they were simply too far beneath my notice to bother worrying about.
One does not consider petty criminals and masked vigilantes when dealing with the balance of the universe.
I briefly wonder if any of them got any new seasons after the Defenders? Surely Daredevil would continue to pump out more episodes for years to come. A critically acclaimed series connected to Disney's greatest cash-cow, shown on one of the most prolific streaming services in the world? Yeah, like anybody'd be stupid enough to mess with that.
Pushing the sudden thoughts about my past life away, I focus back on my current problem as Alisa hesitantly speaks up.
"I wanted to come here earlier. After the One Day War… after seeing her fight the Chitauri… Do you have any idea what it's like? To know that your child, your little baby girl, thinks you're dead? That's she's being forced to carry around that grief, because there's something wrong with your mind? That you can only watch them live their lives away from you, grow up without you, slowly forget you? It hurts, Mister McCole. It hurts more than anything I have ever experienced. It gnaws at you, easts at you, eroding who you are bit by bit, day by day. Forcing Jessica through that… was killing me slowly, ever so slowly. A cruel punishment, wouldn't you agree?" Alisa slowly says with a wavering voice, tears springing up in her eyes as she looks at me, desperation clear on her face.
"And at my deepest point of despair… there she is! On TV! She's not hiding her power, but using them to save people! Soaring through the skies, battering aliens left and right with her powers, a bastion for humanity… she was so beautiful. So glorious! My baby girl. I… I had to try. I couldn't stay away any longer. But my mind… just wanting something isn't enough. I knew I would have to work for it. And I did! I trained, McCole! I trained until my hands were bleeding! I trained until my lungs were struggling! I trained until I thought my heart would explode! All just to control this power, to make it my own, just like my Jessica has done! I have issues, I know I do, but I tried!" she almost shouts, having sprung up from her seat as she tries to articulate the desperate need she felt to reconnect to her daughter.
I simply raise a hand as I mention her to calm down, gently pushing her back down into her seat again, trying my best to send out positive empathic energies in order to lessen her stress. Fighting to the death for several centuries will do wonders for your combat-abilities, but it hardly leaves time to grind your empathy skills.
It's why I'm somewhat struggling in dealing with the news surrounding my children and the cult that had sprung up in my honor. Give me a fearsome beast and I'd have hundreds of new and gruesome ways to deal with it, but things like how to deal with being a dad to triplets or handling your own personal zealots without instigating a bloody massacre are hardly something that I've spent much thought on when I was being torn apart and eaten alive.
As Alisa takes her seat again, trying to regain control over her heavy breathing, the bottle behind me springs back into the air again, filling up my glass as I leisurely lean back into my seat, eyeing the woman across from me.
"Your control, or lack thereof, over your power isn't the issue, Alisa. Many people here in Othrys are fully capable of, and even used to, dealing with your levels of strength. It's your mentality. You are… well, you're-"
"Don't you dare say I'm crazy!" Alisa warns me, nostrils flaring.
"Volatile then." I say instead, and Alisa grits her teeth before giving a reluctant nod.
"I know that. I've been trying but it's… difficult." She admits, before she sends me a determined glare.
"But I'm not leaving! I've worked too hard for this! Besides, Jessica needs me! If she's going to be a mom, then she'll need the support of her own mother!" Alisa is quick to state, apparently ready to defend her point of view with passion, but her voice dies in her throat when she sees the sudden rictus of sheer rage in my expression.
The room's temperature skyrockets as the air around me begins to waver due to the heat I'm giving off. My eyes are twin suns as I snarl at the woman in front of me.
"If you come anywhere near my children right now, I'll spread your fucking ashes across the surface of the sun." I seethe, before fighting back my own rage, quickly cooling down again, my Amber Armor efficiently trapping my heat inside my body.
Alisa seems shocked at my sudden outburst, and in the tense silence that follows I clear my throat.
"Of course, that being said, there should be no trouble after you've been cured. I'd have to take a deeper look inside your brain and mentality, but isolating the damage and fixing it should be easily within my powers. Your unique physiology might complicate any physical remedies slightly, but we have extensive data on your power due to Jessica, so that shouldn't slow us down much. Then there's of course my mastery of mental energies which can be used as well."
Alisa stays silent as her eyes widen in shock, before she hesitantly speaks up.
"You… you can heal me?" she asks in a small voice, drawing a surprised look from me.
"Of course. This is Othrys. We have the most advanced medical equipment on the planet, and quite a significant part of the Galaxy as well. Surely you were aware of this?"
"I… I just thought, because of what IGH did to my body… to my DNA…" the stricken woman softly says, the implications clearly getting to her.
I could've healed her well over a year ago.
Rising from my couch, I drain the last of my Limoncello, before walking over to the seated woman, laying my large hand on her narrow shoulder, speaking in a reassuring voice as she looks up at me with wide eyes.
"Everything's going to be alright, Alisa. Not immediately, but eventually. I promise that you'll be able to be a part of your daughter's life. Of your grandchildren's life." I say with confidence as the vault-like door of my office smoothly swings open (courtesy of Phineas this time, not my TK).
"Now, I suggest you rest up. It's not too late, but you've just gotten a lot dumped in your lap, not to mention some world-shaking revelations as well. Soter will lead you to your room, just follow his lead-"
"Wait!" Alisa shouts as she suddenly jumps up (the sudden movement makes me immediately grasp for my scythe before I manage to slam down on my instincts, making it appear as if I were merely tugging on my cufflinks).
Unaware of just how close she got to being split straight down the middle, Alisa struggles with what she's trying to say, before her shoulders slump and she looks away from me, unease and hope easy to read in her expression and mind.
"Is she… is she here? Can I see her? I won't get close, I swear! I just… If I could just see her…" she tearfully asks and I remain silent for a moment.
"Jessica is… away, for the foreseeable future. I don't know when she's going to come back, but I hope it's soon. I'm keeping an eye on her though. Phineas? Last known location of Jessica and Susan?"
The LED strip running across my ceiling signifying Phineas' physical presence briefly lights up, before his voice comes from various cleverly hidden speakers around my office.
"She was last seen in Eastern Europe. I can't be sure, but I think that she tried to intercepting something from the far East. According to the Masters of the Mystic Arts, something crazy went down there, but Mordo is overseeing the Hong Kong Sanctum for now and is stone-walling us. He keeps telling us to take it up with the Ancient One or the Chase. Anyways, whatever came out of that whole mess, it moved to the West and seems to have slipped past Jessica. She's looped around though and from what I can tell, she's moving towards either the UK or the Netherlands."
Between the impression that I got from Shuri's mind, and the fact that something (or rather, someone) was clever enough to slip even past her notice, showing great skill in travelling unnoticed, on a heading to the Low Countries and I had a pretty good guess as to who Jessica and the Ghost Rider where hunting down.
"She's going to Belgium. Seems Klaue's trying to go home. Keep an eye out. Got anything else for me?" I ask.
"Not much. I did get some footage of her. It's even as herself, thankfully." He says and a screen pops up in the room, projected from the strip in the ceiling.
It shows a rural area, rolling hills spreading in every direction as far as the eye can see, barely any hints of civilization visible other than some far-off towns. And in one of the closer fields, mid-stride, a T-Rex is tearing across the landscape, a woman wearing a leather trenchcoat perched at the base of her neck.
Both are flesh and blood instead of bones and flame, and without my prompting, Phineas enlarges the image as he zooms in on the two figures, enhancing the image the best he can. Considering that this picture seems to have been taken with a simple mobile phone, the best that Phineas can do is rather impressive, as I'm looking at a poster-worthy HD-quality picture.
Without a word, I place my fingers on the top right edge of the screen, before I send it to one of the glass plates lying on the coffee table. The picture flies into it, filling the screen and extending slightly beyond it and above it. Calling the advanced iPad to my hand, I extend it to a mesmerized looking Alisa.
"Here. Keep it close for now. Soon enough you'll be able to embrace the real deal." I say, trying to project as much warmth in my voice as I can.
Alisa takes the glass plate with trembling fingers, but when I let go, her other hand shoots forwards, grabbing my forearm in a surprisingly strong grip. I can see the roiling cocktail of guilt and self-loathing swirl inside her mind as she tries to speak.
"Listen… The reason I know I'm sick… I've lost control before. I have killed, Michael. I'm… I'm a murderer." She painfully admits, and I don't really need my telepathy to know that she fears I'll send her away after her confession, but her guilt making her not want to lie and live under a pretense.
If she's going to be Jessica's mom, she's determined to be herself, not some murdering machine that needs to hide a horrid past from her own daughter.
For a moment, I remain silent, before I slightly squeeze her shoulder, my voice soft and somber.
"As am I, Alisa. Jessica will… understand. It's better if she hears it from you, than if she figures it out on her own. And she will find out. Trust me. Just… just try to be the best you that you can be. That's all she'll ever ask of you." I say with a small smile, before extending my hand to the opened vault door.
"Goodnight, Alisa."
The superwoman gives a small nod, moving away from me and towards the exit, before halting when she's close to the door. She glances back at me over her shoulder, a whole range of complicated and conflicted emotions whirling inside her, before she settles on a weak smile.
"Goodnight, Michael. And thank you."
And with that, Alisa leaves my office with the picture of her daughter clenched close to her chest, following the guiding holographic projections that Phineas helpfully places on the walls for her, my heavy door sliding shut without so much as a whisper of a sound.
For a moment, I stand alone in my silent office, before I look up at the ceiling, appearing to speak into the thin air.
"Phineas. Clear my schedule for tomorrow morning. Make sure that Sterns is free as well. And contact Harper. Tell him I want Karl Malus in my lobby first thing in the morning. I really don't give a shit what for excuses or protests he has: either he's here of his own volition, or I portal over to him and carry his entire house back with me. We're going to fix Jessica's mom."
"Sure thing Michael! But, uhmm…"
Hearing my AI-ghost friend hesitate, I just know that the craziness for today is far from over, and letting out a deep sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, I brace myself for the latest outlandish event in the tragic comedy my life has become.
"Just spit it out, Phineas."
"Well… it seems that Alisa isn't the only estranged mom that thought today would be a good day to check in on her daughter."
Before I can question him, a screen pops into existence in front of me, and what I see makes me face-palm, giving a strained 'of course'. Because right there, clearly visible from several angles, are the contained forms of Jiaying and Gordon, encased almost completely in restrictive foam, well over half a dozen varying Soter platforms surrounding them, while four thick pillars create a box of hazy, distorted air of several feet across around the pair of Inhumans.
And Jiaying looks pissed.
Somehow, she manages to pick out the Soter-platform providing the feed for the main screen, staring straight into its "eyes", thus staring straight at me. Others would've find it creepy. I'm simply annoyed.
Not that I hadn't expected contact with the Inhumans of Afterlife at some point. After all, the moment that I put Skye and Darryl through the Terrigenesis process using my Diviner, the Diviner at Afterlife would be lighting up like an alien Christmas tree in response. Still, I had expected the fact that it took place inside Othrys, the most secure fortress on Earth, would throw the Inhumans of my trail.
Of course, since there was plenty of footage of Skye (or Bia, as she was regularly called on the news and the internet, in keeping with the whole Greek mythology theme I had going on) reducing demons to giblets, it made sense that Jiaying would link her glowing Diviner to her daughter suddenly showing up with superpowers.
Right, no sense putting this off then.
"Phineas, where are they?"
"Sublevel One. I detected a teleporting signature that didn't correspond to the magical portals wizards used and I checked it out. I found these two trying to make their way deeper into Othrys' sublevels."
"How did you notice them? For that matter, how are you keeping them from teleporting out right now?"
"I worked on it with Dr. Selvig and Dr. Foster!" my AI friend says happily, and briefly the screen expands to show several videos and dissertations detailing the two scientist's theories and experiments considering the very fabric of the space-time continuum. I quickly see that it's based off their research on the Tesseract.
"Taking into account how The Ancient One just pops over whenever she wants and the implications for stealth and infiltration that Pym Particles have, I have been brainstorming with Harper on how to boost Othrys' security, especially against non-conventional methods of entry. We went over the work of the Think Tank and tried to find ways to apply it to defense and capture, like this here! I call it… The Pillars of Hercules! They project a Non Plus Ultra field, literally stopping people from moving any further! Cool, right!?"
For a moment, I just silently stare at the screen, before shooting the LED strip running across the ceiling a very dry look.
"Dude. You've gotta get over your Xenaverse obsession man. It's bad enough you stole Hercules' body for your avatar, you gotta claim his pillars too?" I ask with amusement lacing my voice.
Phineas sputters for a moment (an… odd thing to do, for an AI), before he just gives a slightly irritated sigh.
"Just use your bullshit-magic to come over here, okay? This lady is staring hard enough I think one of her powers might actually be heat-vision or something."
If only it were something as simple as heat-vision. That'd be easy to deal with. But no, Jiaying happens to have powers similar to Rogue from the X-Men, and a rather justified dislike of humanity, considering a Nazi literally vivisected her while she was still alive. Having your husband having to find your corpse in the trash and stitch your body back together, only to figure out someone stole your baby?
Yeah, people have done far worse over far less. Honestly, it's rather amazing that in the intervening twenty years, there hasn't been an Inhuman War. Either running the Afterlife is a very time-consuming job, or some of the world's shadow-organizations were actually rather damn good at keeping any such conflict out of the public eye.
With a sigh, a wave of my hand and a single step, I go from standing in my office on the highest level of Othrys to standing before the two trapped Inhumans down on Sublevel One (like Phineas said, magic is bullshit). Jiaying's eyes smoothly slide away from the Soter platform she's been glaring at to look at me instead. Other than a slight widening of her eyes at the fading magical portal, she remains remarkably composed. Gordon on the other hand… his expression is somewhat difficult to read at first, considering the lack of eyes.
Not that I haven't seen (and then killed) plenty of creatures without eyes before, but this is the first time I've seen it on a humanoid.
Still, judging from his clenched teeth and the way he periodically blurs (each time he does, the hazy confines of Non Plus Ultra field flicker in accordance, the exotic spatial effects created by SCIENCE! counteracting his own powers), he seems to be somewhat panicked at having been caught.
Must be a novel experience for a teleporter, I guess.
Focusing back on the leader of Afterlife, I give a deep sigh as I step closer to NPU-field.
"Right. I've had a very long day, I'm tired and I honestly just wanna try to get some sleep today. I know who you are. I know that you know who I am. I can guess as to what, or rather who prompted you to seek me out. So how about this: let's skip all the stuff where we're being all coy and mysterious and evasive and shit like that. You just tell me what the hell you want, and I'll let you visit your daughter. 'Cause I'm guessing that she's one, if not the reason you're here in the first place, instead of ambushing me somewhere outside of Othrys." I say, raising an eyebrow as I challenge Jiaying to refute what I just said.
The Inhuman's eyes widen slightly at my knowledge, before they narrow in thought, her features still composed and neutral. She briefly mulls over my words, before she gives a small nod.
"Very well. Gordon. It's okay. I do not believe that we will be harmed here. If he wanted us dead, we would be already."
At his leader's voice, the eyeless man stops struggling, bowing his head in deference to her orders.
"So, no running then?" I ask, just to be sure, touching Jiaying's mind with my own as I test her trustworthiness.
Interestingly enough, her mind reminds me of Carter's. A veritable labyrinth of strategies, hidden thoughts and countermeasures. But unlike the superspy, there's something dark and wrong deep within Jiaying's mind. Underneath it all there's a… fire, almost, except it's freezing cold to my touch. When Whitehall cut apart her body, he scarred her mind as well. There's an icy and near universal disgust of humans, hidden away deep in her mind. Controlled enough that she doesn't turn into a homicidal maniac, but prevalent enough that, if she were given the chance, the excuse to, she would happily wage war on humanity.
It would seem that mental health issues amongst the mothers of my people is rather more prevalent than I'd like.
"No running." Jiaying affirms in her smooth voice and while I can tell that's she's looking for ways to turn her situation to her advantage, I also see that she's currently willing to play ball with me. After all, she wanted to get into Othrys in the first place. Not much use in running away when you have an invitation of the owner of the place you were trying to infiltrate after all.
I glance at the nearest Soter platform from the corner of my eye, giving him a nod.
"Alright Phineas, shut it down."
Almost immediately following my words, the Pillars of Hercules shut down, the various lights quickly shutting off as they go dormant. The Non Plus Ultra field dissipates with a snap of cracked air, almost like the sound of a whip. As the Pillars shrink in on themselves, panels shifting and moving while they retreat into recesses in the walls, several Soter platforms step up, a thick nozzle extending from their right forearm.
A thick spray comes out. It looks like water, but the chemical smell is rather strong (though thankfully not disgusting. If anything, it just reminds me of some very potent cleaning products). Wherever the spray lands, the thick foam just melts away, like cotton candy being put into water.
In less than a minute, the two Inhumans are freed, and despite the fact that I can literally look in on their thoughts (though Gordon's mind is… weird. He doesn't seem to think in the same 3D-patterns that humans do), I still tense, looking out for any hidden tricks that I might have missed.
Centuries in a warzone make you paranoid, who would've thought?
Still, after a few tense moments of silence, I relax somewhat as both Inhuman remain simply standing there, Gordon not quite being able to hide his nervousness, whereas Jiaying is expertly manipulating her body language to come across as non-threatening as possible.
Not that she fools me but it's the thought that counts, I suppose.
"Right. Phineas, where's Skye right now?"
Jiaying raises an eyebrow at the name, but otherwise remains silent as one of the Soter-platforms steps closer, a hologram springing to life above his upturned palm.
"She's in the Courtyard, with several others. With most of Othrys' people inside while our lawn was being filled with Michaelites, there was an impromptu barbecue and several of them are sharing a couple of drinks and swapping stories. The Racoon especially has some… unique ones."
Ignoring the ridiculous name Phineas gave to the people who thought I was a God, I instead focus on the scene visible on the screen. A long, low wooden table (extremely durable, of course) is covered in empty plates and beer bottles, despite the fact that the majority of my people can't get drunk of anything less than a case of lagers.
Skye and Darcy are sitting opposite Beta Ray Bill, Darcy giving the cyborg looks that are straining the definition of 'flirting' and are just shy of 'utterly outrageous'. Good for Bill, though Quill, who's sitting next to him, seems rather disappointed that he isn't receiving such looks. The cyborg in question seems more relaxed than I've seen him so far, leaning one the table and apparently with a pleasant expression on his face, though considering it is rather… horse-like, it's difficult to tell. On the tabletop in between the four of them, stands Rocket, who appears to be… completely drunk off his ass and telling a raunchy story that involves way too many hip-thrusting to be told in a public setting like that.
Jiaying's eyes widen in shock at the colorful group (Gordon's would've as well if… you know… if he actually had any) and I waste no time in snapping a portal to the Courtyard, stepping through with Jiaying and Gordon hot on my heels.
"-and that's when I realized: the third one was missing their shoe! AHAHAHAAH!" Bradley Cooper's voice rings out across the courtyard, muffling the sound of my entrance.
Bill immediately spots me, and is quick to stand up, which catches Quill's attention. When his eyes land on me, he also tries to stand up, only to almost topple over backwards over his bench. Rocket Racoon… simply topples over, snoring away softly, completely dead to the world.
How much have they been drinking? If they've tried to keep up with Bill… I pity their heads tomorrow morning.
Seeing the men rise so suddenly makes Darcy and Skye turn around in their seats. They appear somewhat confused and interested at the two people standing next to me (especially Gordon's face causes some raised eyebrows), but other than that, they simply respond with a wave.
Right, Skye of course wouldn't know what her mother looked like.
Glancing to my left, I can see the same realization hammer home with Jiaying, genuine sorrow filling her mind as she gives a weak, brittle smile.
Somewhat weirded out by the looks the unfamiliar woman is giving her, Skye rises to her feet as well (thankfully she at least seems… somewhat sober) addressing me as she crosses her arm in front of her chest.
"Hey Michael, what's up? Did you need anything?"
Shooting another glance at the Inhuman leader, I take a step to the side, extending my hand at the Chinese woman.
"Skye? There's someone that I'd like you to meet."
At my words, Jiaying steps forwards and I can see/feel her struggling with what she's going to say. Eventually, she simply settles on straightforward.
"Hello, Skye. I am Jiaying. I am your mother."
Right. Make that blunt, instead of straightforward.
The general clutter of background noise completely dies down at the Inhuman's words and I can see both Darcy and Peter's mouth fall open simultaneously. Bill gives off a sense of shock, but hides it well (when your muscles are artificial, you become a master at keeping a poker face). Skye…
Skye is simply floored. The simply statement causes a whirlwind of thought to explode in her mind, each question screaming for attention so much that they start drowning each other out, eventually leading to a chaotic silence as Skye literally doesn't know what to make of the woman in front of her.
She hesitantly opens her mouth, ready to start the complex progress of reconnecting with her mother, when an unfamiliar middle-aged man walks back into the Courtyard, letting the door to the men's room fall shut behind him as he speaks and finishes up zipping up his pants, a large smile visible on his face.
"Right, where were we!? I think the Raccoon was telling this marvelous story about that time he caused three dynastic successions with a single scandal-"
As he looks up and is greeted with a wall of silence, I see his face for the first time and let out a frustrated groan.
'Of course!'
Jiaying, who couldn't see the man at first, steps around me, ready to lay into the boorish oaf that dared interrupt her emotional reconciliation moment with her daughter. Both lock eyes, which widen in shock.
"You!"
"You!"
"Who?" Skye weakly asks as she looks between the two people.
Looking from Jiaying to Skye, the man draws himself up to his full length, a mix of hesitation, anticipation and hope swirling inside of his mind.
"Very well. If your mother has approached you so brazen as this, then it seems that the need for subtlety has gone. Skye. It's time you know the truth: I'm not David Johnson like I said I was. When I approached you during Hell Week, it wasn't because I wanted to fight demons on the front lines. I approached you, because I wanted to fight demons alongside you. Skye… I am your father." Calvin Zabo says with pride.
The silence from before returns even more pressing than before, as Skye keeps looking desperately between her suddenly-revealed parents, Jiaying keeps staring at Calvin, Calvin keeps staring at Skye and Peter keeps staring at Calvin with a wide-eyed look and a gleeful expression on his face as he almost inaudibly whispers 'Darth Vader!' under his breath.
Finally, the tense silence is broken by Skye herself.
"What. The. SHIT!"
Seems appropriate.
I sent all three of them to a large common room in one of Othrys' residential wings, allowing them to work through their history together with some privacy. Gordon had declined my offer of giving him a room for the night, merely teleporting back to Afterlife, citing that he would know when Jiaying required his services again.
Of course, while the estranged parents and lost daughter were reconnecting, I ordered Phineas to keep listening in on them. I didn't want Jiaying putting any anti-human sentiments in Skye's head after all, and while Calvin wouldn't wage war against the humans (unless they upset his daughter) he still wasn't exactly an ideal model for fatherhood.
As it turned out, Calvin had apparently approached my forces on the third day of Hell Week under a pseudonym, showcasing his own hack-job version of the supersoldier serum and claiming it as a genetic anomaly, pretending to be an Inhuman himself, completely ignorant about the source of his powers and Inhumans in general.
Considering the way the demonic invasion had been going, Harper hadn't exactly minded the extra manpower (especially of the superpowered kind) and Skye was just happy to meet another Inhuman. While Harper had been suspicious of the man, he had proven his worth during Hell Week and had gotten close to Skye, striking up a friendship. When Hell Week ended, he had petitioned Harper to come back to Othrys with the rest of the team and Harper (apparently under the idea of 'I'd like to keep him where I can see him') had let him. Of course he had also given Phineas the order to keep an eye on the man and perform a background check, but Calving had covered his tracks well and was a model citizen within the walls of Othrys, so Phineas hadn't really bothered all that much with the man.
I was going to have words with my electronic ghost friend.
Apparently, Calvin's plan had been to settle in at Othrys, and then once he and Sky had gotten close, do a dramatic reveal of his identity, hoping that his earlier friendship with Skye would keep her from sending him away from Othrys.
Of course, when Skye asked him why he didn't approach her as her father in the first place, the man was at a complete loss for words, eventually only being able to offer a weak 'well, it seemed like a good idea at the time?'.
Like I said, not the ideal dad.
Not that Jiaying wasn't much better. It wasn't like she was telling Skye to hate all humans, but she was campaigning pretty hard for her daughter to leave Othrys behind and come with her to Afterlife. The way she was telling it, Jiaying had set the place up specifically so that it could be a safe haven for her daughter.
Who knows? She just might have.
Thankfully, Skye had been very firm in shutting that down, citing that all of this was too new, too sudden to commit to that. She wouldn't say no to visiting Afterlife in the near future, but it would be a visit and nothing more. She had made too many connections to the people within Othrys to just up and leave like her mother wanted her to.
As she said that, I thought of Radcliffe and Agnes. Ever since Radcliffe had contacted Skye through a digital cat-and-mouse game, leading her along a trail of breadcrumbs towards Othrys, the two had grown closer. At first, Radcliffe was merely an Uncle of sorts, but as he reconnected with Agnes and the three of them spent months together on the outskirts of the Kree City, they had grown closer still.
While I don't think that Skye would ever call Radcliffe 'dad' (at least out loud), there was no denying that the two had built a father-daughter bond over the years.
Breaking the news to him and Agnes about Skye's biological parents resurfacing would be… interesting. Especially considering neither parent had an exactly clean ledger (though again, in terms of MCU trauma cases, they were certainly in the Top 10).
But even more interesting was what I was going to do with the source of all that trauma: Werner Reinhardt, nowadays known as Daniel Whitehall. When I fucked up with the Mind Stone and briefly shut down Phineas (and through him, most of Othrys), Harper had been right on Whitehall's tail, scoping out the old Nazi's fortress. When he suddenly lost all contact with the base, a worried Harper decided to return as quickly as possible, but not empty-handed.
Breaching Whitehall's castle had been a bloody affair, but nothing that my Hysminai couldn't handle with ease. Taking Whitehall back with them to New York was another hassle entirely, especially because the wily Nazi was trying to make the trip as aggravating as possible.
He had tried to bite off his own tongue no less than four times and Jim had been forced to prevent close to a dozen suicide attempts. He couldn't exactly rely on the lobotomized Winter Soldiers either: give them an order to kill someone or destroy something and nothing short of Thor or the Hulk (or me) would stop them in carrying out their order with the utmost silent precision.
When Harper told one to make sure Whitehall didn't hurt himself, the soldier had intended to rip the man's arms off.
So, when it came to keeping someone healthy and alive, the Winter Soldiers weren't the greatest option. Of course, I or Pangborn could've just popped over with a portal, but Harper declined. He was using the trip back as a way to throw various organizations of his trail and cement the Hysminai as a unit that was wholly independent and that had no relation to Othrys whatsoever. He argued that this would increase the Hysminai's effectiveness in future missions.
Seeing a giant man in golden armor step through a portal would kind of defeat that purpose. So I let Harper to his self-imposed challenge in wrangling the Nazi back to the States, Whitehall kicking and screaming all the way. Which would be fine if the man didn't have a knack for doing it at the most inopportune moments, for instance right when my Hysminai had to dodge the special forces of a dozen European countries or the smattering of Hydra remnants that were trying to retrieve their prized scientist.
All in all, they arrived a mere two days after I left with Sam for Sakaar, and without a way of contacting me, Harper had simply decided on throwing Whitehall in my dungeons and wiping his hands off the man. A few subroutines from Phineas made sure that Whitehall remained in a healthy condition, but otherwise, people didn't really want to bother with him.
Radcliffe had tried interrogating the man, trying to get the Nazi to reveal his knowledge about Inhumans, but after a few days had stopped in disgust of the man's (effective) attempts at riling him up. Considering that he had all but adopted an Inhuman, that wasn't entirely surprising.
Of course, then Hell Week happened, and everybody just straight up forgot about him.
I hadn't had a chance to properly deal with him yet, other than a quick visit where I bruteforced my way into his mind in order to extract his vile Nazi secrets, but I didn't stay for too long. I may have become desensitized to a lot of fucked up shit, so I wasn't truly bothered by his disgusting memories and thoughts, but still.
A Nazi mind is not a nice play to be for any length of time.
I had merely dumped all of Whitehall's Inhuman knowledge in Radcliffe's lap, had given some Hydra black-sites to Harper and Carter to raid (depending on if the base had anything that I wanted retrieved for myself or not), while also giving Carter the names of several Agents that Whitehall had turned and then told the Thompsons to start incorporating his mind-control technology into their own research, using Whitehall himself as their Guinea pig.
By now, Kilgrave's parents had long realized that I had killed their son (or rather Jessica did, but that's semantics), and without any projects to work on and basically trapped inside Othrys, the two had fallen into depression, not helped by the fact that everyone else in Othrys knew exactly what they had put their son through and what he had subsequently done with his terrifying powers.
To say they were the most disliked people in Othrys was an understatement.
Eager to escape their guilt by throwing themselves into their work, they had accepted my order (not that they really had a choice in the matter) and had been working over Whitehall these past few days with a twisted (yet effective) combination of their own and his torture devices.
Couldn't have happened to a nicer person.
Still, I think it could help Skye and her parents (Jiaying especially) if they got some… cathartic alone time with the Nazi at some point. Work through their issues, before they worsened and became humanity's (and thus, my) issues. Not now of course, but after things have had a chance to settle down a bit.
Finally reaching my bedroom, I push all thoughts of resurrected moms and vile Nazi's out of my mind as I shrug on my pajama's. It had been a long day. Things were already moving along at breakneck speed and I'd rather tackle them tomorrow, after some good rest.
Of course, I still can't fall asleep as my eyes keep shooting towards the shadows that I swear are getting longer and growing teeth whenever I look away and in desperation I use my psychokinetic powers to put myself to sleep again.
I haven't properly slept a single day since Hell Week ended.
May 9th, 11:30
The church is the same as the one where Peggy's funeral is held. The service is of course impeccable, but still somewhat stale. Or impersonal, rather. That tends to happen when the vast majority of the deceased's life is classified information.
Still, the church is packed to the brim and even out on the streets people are paying their respects. Some of the highest politicians of the US are here and even some foreign dignitaries (Russia is of course absent). The Avengers and their respective families fill the first row and surprisingly, a select few from Othrys and myself are on the second row (which must be frustrating for the people sitting behind me).
The usual songs are sang, and several people come up to say a few words. In some cases literally only a few words. The Avengers of course elaborate more on the life of their comrade, but most of them knew her only for a year of that life. Steve is surprisingly heartfelt and elaborative, having apparently stricken up a similar friendship with Natasha as was shown in the Winter Soldier movie.
Good for them.
It's only when Barton comes up that the tone of the funeral changes. Becomes deeper, somehow, more genuine. Like we're talking about the actual woman behind the title of the Black Widow, Agent of SHIELD and one of the Avengers.
Other than going a little misty-eyed, Barton remains remarkably composed, talking about Natasha in a fond tone with barely a waver in his voice. Interestingly enough, his family isn't here. I suppose with that many shakers and movers in a single room, he'd be more than happy keeping his family away and hidden, even if it means they have to miss Auntie Nat's funeral.
"I'll always remember when I first met Nat. Of course, a lot of our first meeting is classified, but I think most of you know the gist of it anyways. We weren't on the same side. Not yet, anyways. We were on opposite sides, our missions were to ki-… well, our missions were conflicting. I was looking for her, she was looking for me. But when I saw her, I realized something. She wasn't on the mission. Wasn't looking for me. I mean, she was, she was right there after all, gun on her hip and stiletto in her shoe. But mentally… she was very far away. And I realized… she was looking for something else. Something that I think, we're all looking for. At least in some point in our life. A place to belong. A side that you want to be on. A family. I had only a single moment, while I had that realization. A single moment to make the most important choice in my life. And, looking back on the years I've had with the greatest partner in the world at my side… I can definitely say that I made the right one. And I know, or at least I hope, that in doing so… I managed to give Nat what she had always been looking for." The archer finishes, a single tear rolling over his check, before he turns to the empty coffin at his side and places a calloused hand on its gleaming mahogany surface.
"I'm going to miss you Nat." he softly finishes, before he moves back to take his seat.
For a moment, the church is silent and I'm nearly buried in the emotions that flood the vaulted hall as Clint's words move well over a hundred people.
The aged priest walks up to his pulpit, indicating that we'll sing the final song and then the coffin will be buried in an idyllic part of the Green-wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. Since I doubt that the Black Widow made any provisions regarding her death other than perhaps 'delete my hard drives and give all my stuff to the Bartons', I'm fairly sure Steve Rogers is the one who arranged for that.
As far as cemeteries go, Green-wood is pretty nice. Idyllic even, some would say.
Somewhat less so with the sheer multitude of people that are now in said cemetery, flowers in hand, all of them wanting to pay their respects to the Avenger who died in defense of all of humanity. Once of the results of Hell Week is that people have begun taking 'holy' things a lot more seriously, so thankfully everybody is as respectful as they can be in order to not disturb the graveyard and the people laid at rest there. Once the coffin is lowered and dirt been thrown on top, the people who were inside the church for the funeral move back towards the cars, allowing the massive crowd to lay their flowers and pictures at Romanov's grave, turning it into a shrine.
As the crowd sticks around Green-Wood, our column of cars moves towards Avengers Tower. I didn't feel much like going there, but Foster had convinced me and after Barton's heartfelt speech I would've felt like a dick if I ghosted them now.
Besides, Othrys was far too busy anyways. While I had cured much of Alisa's mental instability yesterday, it was still a rather rough job (I'm good at ripping minds apart, not gently nursing them back to health) and I ordered Alisa to see a therapist and allow Sterns and Malus (who had immediately acquiesced when Harper had shown up telling him to get his butt over to Othrys pronto) to continue on healing any physical damage to her brain.
Still, at least now she was less likely to fly off the handle and had a better grip on her sudden rage, though the underlying issues that caused that rage still needed to be dealt with (she hadn't let go of Jessica's picture for the entire day).
Jiaying had left yesterday after a long talk and hug with Skye, promising to be back as soon as possible, but first she had to make sure that her people could deal with her absence for a few days. She had teleported out with Gordon, but didn't take Calvin with her. The two were as estranged from each other as they were from Skye, and while there was still love there, too much had happened in their life to simply pick things up as they were before a certain Nazi scientist removed most of her organs.
Skye had seemed somewhat grateful for the breather though, wanting to process the massive bombshells that had been thrown her way, one after the other. Interestingly enough, she had went to decompress with Radcliffe and Agnes, who were immensely supportive of the troubled young woman.
Which caused its own share of problems, because Calvin then became jealous, butting heads with Radcliffe as he felt that the man was stealing his position and Radcliffe didn't appreciate that Calvin had left a trail of corpses in his pursuit of Skye. Thankfully the headbutting remained metaphorical and not literal, because I really didn't want to deal with that mess.
Instead, I had Harper deal with that mess.
His (and Phineas') inattention was the cause of a large part of this mess even existing in the first place, so they could deal with it.
Harper, being a man who dislikes being fooled, had offered Calvin some one-on-one training sessions (he had given Trish a day off to recover from seeing her mom suddenly show up like that), citing that only by facing another superhuman could Calving hope to significantly improve his skills and raise his combat level.
Translation: Harper beat the ever-loving shit out of Zabo for several hours on end.
Calvin didn't complain for two reasons. Or rather three, the primary being that Harper didn't tolerate complaining and Calving was hurting enough as it was, thankyouverymuch.
The second reason was the fact that I promised him a perfected version of his supersoldier formula, making it more effective and less painful to use, once I knew I could actually trust him with such power. The third reason was simply that if he didn't obey Harper's every order, I'd boot him of Othrys, meaning that he'd be unlikely to see Skye ever again unless she went out and approached him first.
I had Burstein quickly look over Zabo's bloodwork, examining the serum the man had used, but it didn't seem to possess anything that I didn't already have. In the end, it was simply a subpar version of Erskine's formula, which was in itself a subpar version of the serum that I had enhanced myself with.
My very first enhancement, actually.
So I told Burstein to figure out how to perfect the serum for Zabo and then put it out of my mind. There was plenty that required my attention as well, after all. Hall and Cho had both said that they would be more than happy to work at Othrys, and would be here within the month. They had to take care of personal and professional business first before they could make the move, but since the Convergence was still half a year off, I didn't really mind.
I also received an email from Dormer and Gill, as well as FitzSimmons. The mail from the pair of now SHIELD Agents was very brief and polite, but declined my offer as they were "otherwise engaged in central operations of SHIELD that we believe vital to the safety of civilians on a global scale". The tone was obviously Jemma Simmons, but there was no way I was going to get Leo Fitz without her (a shame, since he actually seemed to be the more clever/useful one to me). Still, I wasn't too bummed out, because I had the next best thing: an email from one Donnie Gill which only read "we accept" and a videofile of a working Atmospheric Moisture Freezing Device.
I had only briefly met them personally before handing them off to Maya Hanssen, but considering the… edgy energy the two of them had, I was rather thankful of that. Gill of course had been pissed that I seemingly pawed him off to work for one of my scientists instead of immediately giving him his own lab and ordering him to make a Death Ray or something (kids, honestly).
Still, once I explained to him that I wanted him to become a genuine terraformer instead of merely fixing up Fitz' old junk, making the two of them the pioneers of human extra-planetary expansion, they agreed to simmer down and listen up. They would work under Hansen in order to learn how to fix up this planet first, drawing from the various papers on alien technology that Sterns had published (alongside a whole slew of scientific discoveries and alien cultures and… well, basically everything that could be found outside our own solar system) and of course Hansen's own forays into tampering with food production and sustainable agriculture (preferably the kind that was on fire all the time). They still didn't like the perceived limit on their independence, but Hansen would set them straight.
That, or feed them to a plant or something.
I'm shaken from my musings as I'm staring out of the long windows on the top floor of Avengers Tower (where only a year before, Loki threw Stark through one of said windows) by a softly cleared throat.
Glancing to my left (and then a bit down as well), I look at Clint Barton as he stuffs his hands in his pockets, staring out through the windows as well with a stubborn set to his jaw. I can see his eyes flit down towards the streets far below, which are still packed with people paying their respects to Natasha Romanov, even if they didn't even know of her existence a year ago.
"Good speech." I offer, but Barton only grunts in response.
Since he clearly approached me for a reason (and because I'm in no particular hurry to get back to Othrys only to hear Dormer and Gill whine on and on again) I'm content to merely stand next to the archer and wait.
It only takes a few moments before he speaks up, but pitching his voice low, his back firmly turned on the packed rooms behind us.
"What you said… couple of days ago. Souls and stuff. That true?"
I can already tell where he's trying to go with this (telepathy for the win, no wonder so many Jedi fell to the Dark Side if listening in on someone's secrets is this easy), but I don't interrupt him, merely giving him a subtle nod.
It's clear he doesn't really want the other Avengers to know about what he's going to ask me to do, so I'll meet him halfway and not try to draw any attention either. I may be a giant of a man with a body temperature more often found in volcanoes, but I can do subtle.
Sometimes.
My nod makes his shoulders tense up, his expression souring.
"Fuck. Alright. Right. So, what do I need to do?"
Seeing my raised eyebrow, he elaborates, some heat slipping into his voice even as he keeps it soft and low pitched.
"I know that people can be brought back from the dead. I've done my research. I've read through the transcripts of all your interviews, those of the others at Othrys and those of the Ancient One as well. I've read through every article Dr. Sterns has released concerning alien histories and civilization. People can be brought back. And I know, I just know, that you know how to do it too. I'd bet my life on it. So, tell me. Tell me what you want from me? What do I need to do to bring Nat back?"
I give him a slow blink as I consider that Barton is definitely a superspy instead of merely guy with just an arrow gimmick if he's been able to get that just from data-gathering and reading between the lines. As he was talking I followed his thought process and I can even see how he came to that conclusion, fueled by desperate hope as it was.
It mainly began with several statements made regarding the Hand, either from SHIELD dossiers or stuff the Ancient One and I have let slip over the past year. Working from there, he has tracked down corresponding mentions of similar legends and cases, building it up to the correct conclusion: resurrection in the MCU is entirely possible.
You don't even need to throw your loved one or closest friend off a cliff to do it either.
Briefly I consider what I should do, before I settle on something rather unusual for me: telling the truth.
"Yes, people can be resurrected. No, I don't want anything from you and no, I don't need you to do anything for me. Things are already in motion to bring Natasha back, though the means are… not entirely perfect. Given we're talking literal resurrection from the dead here, I think that's understandable. Still, this means that once she's resurrected, you should contact me. I have the means to heal the damage she'll bear from this ordeal. If left alone it'll… fester. Grow worse over time until the Natasha that you knew is truly gone and even raising her from the dead will not bring her back."
At my response, Barton's eyes widen in shock, and I can feel the truly massive amounts of willpower and self-control that he uses to keep himself from freaking out, cheering or collapsing on the spot. Maybe even all three at once. Still, he can't keep himself from letting out a shuddering breath as he briefly closes his eyes, while I can see his hands balling themselves into fists inside his pockets.
When he opens his eyes again, they're watery, but his gaze is filled with determination and hope.
"What's going on then? Who's bringing her back? You? God?"
"Nick Fury."
This time, the shock is much harder to hide and he can't quite help himself from turning to face me fully, his expression wide-eyed and disbelieving.
"Fury? Wha-… how?"
"A hidden program, specifically set up in case an Avenger falls in battle, using the blood of a species with an… interesting connection to human history and biology. It grants humans regenerative properties, powerful enough even to return from the dead, though as I said, there are drawbacks involved. If you don't believe me, just walk up to him and ask for a vacation to Tahiti. Make sure to mention that you've heard it's a rather wonderful place."
Barton's disbelieving look persists for a few moments, before it's replaced by an angry scowl as he realizes that Fury wanted to keep Natasha's resurrection from him. He turns on his heel and is about to stalk off into the room, in search of his director, but almost walks into a slim blond woman.
I had noticed her approaching, and while I could sense a surprisingly high level of energy hidden underneath her skin, I hadn't recognized her and hadn't really bothered with her. I was surrounded by immense energies all day long after all. She was probably just a SHIELD Agent that had been enhanced during Hell Week, as so many others in a desperate bid to counter Hell's and Dormammu's forces.
It hadn't always worked out so well for others as it had apparently for her.
Barton mutters a quick apology and makes to step around her, only to realize that the man he's looking for is standing right behind her, with Carter at his side. There's a lull in the buzz as a silence falls across the room. I notice that Steve looks somewhat pained, while the other Avengers merely look confused.
Fury and Carter are both scowling, but their frustration is more aimed at the woman and the world in general than at me (though a fair bit of it is firmly pointed towards me as well. They just seem to be two generally very frustrated people).
The woman is… interesting.
It's not often that I meet someone who is so utterly confident, so completely unafraid. Especially when it comes to the idea of facing me. This woman is either incredibly delusional… or incredibly powerful.
The biggest problem would be if it turned out she was both.
"Mister McCole?" she asks with a small smirk, her tone still within the realms of politeness.
Not that the question is necessary: I have a rather… unique appearance after all. Still, I play along for now, inclining my head at her, though her self-assured posture is already beginning to rub me the wrong way. If you plan on facing me, at least have the common decency (and sense) to be terrified out of your mind, for crying out loud!
"I'm going to have to ask you to come with us." The woman says, her smirk not wavering an inch.
Drawing myself up a little higher, I raise a questioning eyebrow at her, my own posture relaxed, matching her confident one.
"Oh? Whatever for."
"You're under arrest on the grounds of stealing SHIELD property and the suspected murder of US Military personnel. Alongside probably breaking every single law in the Geneva Convention, but we'll get to that eventually, of course." The woman says with a slight grin as she crosses her arms in front of her chest.
Looking down at the woman, I can't help but let out a slight chuckle at the absurd picture the two of us are making as she states her intentions.
"Right. Disregarding that you don't even have proof of the things that you're accusing me of allegedly having done, you want to arrest me? … how, exactly? I'm actually genuinely curious. You are aware of the fact that I've fought off entire armies before, right?" I say, my smirk mirroring her own.
I'm surprised when she merely lifts her chin in challenge.
"So have I."
…
'Come again now?'
"Phineas." I subvocalize, allowing my ghost friend to pick up my speech without the people in front of me noticing.
In response, the highly advanced lens I'm wearing in my right eye comes to life as Phineas runs the woman's face through his facial recognition software, pulling from a truly massive amount of databanks, even those that technically don't (or shouldn't) exist. Surprisingly enough for someone apparently very high up in the SHIELD food chain, it takes him less than a second to find a match, quickly overlaying the information he's found over the woman in front of me in my minuscule HUD.
It's a Military ID. US Air Force, fighter pilot with the rank of Captain, issued 1989, Carol Danvers-…
Ah, fuck.
Fun Fact: When counting up the different character's screen time in the MCU (only the movies), then Robert Downey Jr. has the most screen time. Not surprising, since he appears in 10 movies. The runner-up is Samuel L. Jackson with 'merely' 6. In total, Iron Man appears on screen for roughly 3000 minutes. Make of that what you will
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