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mrskatha · 2 years

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AWAY

Fear.

It was what had woken him again. He hadn‘t slept the whole night. No matter what he tried, he kept tossing and turning. Sighing, he turned to look out the big, gold-framed balcony doors beside his bed. The dawn was breaking. Soon, he had to be in the big hall, leading the kingdom until their ruler comes back.

„He will come back. He will…“

His throat constricted as the cold fist of fear wrapped it’s gruesome grip around it.

He dressed in the dark. His formal wear was only granted an annoyed glance. Then he strode out of his chambers, clad in a soft linen tunic, fine wool breeches and his riding boots.

He knew his destination and his big strides carried him there in mere minutes. When the scent of hay and horses filled his nose, he inhaled deeply. It had calmed him down since he was a young prince. It was his hiding place. Nobody looked for the noble, arrogant prince in the place that was dirtier than everything else.

He picked up three apples from a barrel at the big entry before he shut the gates again. Taking a bite of one of the apples, he walked calmly towards the far end of the stables. The two stablehands were used to seeing him here- more often just lately - so they bowed quickly and resumed their work when he walked by.

In the last bay, there she was. The beautiful, white mare, Magni. And, hidden behind her underneath a heap of straw, her foal, Hófvarpnir. He was born six weeks previous and as strong as his mother and his father, Svađilfari, combined.

She walked towards him and put her soft nose on his shoulder, nudging him to make him give her the treat she knew he was hiding behind his back.

Chuckling softly, he held up the apple.

„Good morning to you too, Darling. You are a bright one, aren’t you?“

He fed her the apple and slipped inside her bay. The foal eyed him suspiciously but, he could smell the apple on him, so he trotted over to his side to wait patiently.

He ruffled his mane and held out the apple.

„Here you are.“

He fed the remainder of his own apple to the mare and sat down on the cool stone floor near the exit to the meadows on the back of Magni’s bay.

For a while he sat there, only staring outside. Watching the sun rise from behind the trees.

The foal laid down next to him, blowing his hot breath on the hand that rested on his knee.

He smiled weakly, but furrowed his brows. He felt hot tears stinging in his eyes.

He missed him. More than he probably should.

It wasn’t only his brother he missed. No, he missed his love; his strong arms around his body, his sweet words whispered into his ears in the darkest nights, his assuring gaze on him when he fullfilled his duties - even his booming laughter when he caused mischief again.

It brought a sad smile to his face.

He had been gone for month now. He had left him behind. Them behind.

Him, because he had to take over the position of the ruler until his return. His mare, because she carried an heir to the famous bloodline of their stables. She hadn't been suited for battle in her condition.

And, now her foal was born, their master still has not returned.

He had sent messages. The battles had taken some unexpected turns. They were trapped on another realm, their forces depleted to only a fraction of their former strength.

He knew his brother would come back. He always came back, even if it seemed impossible to win his battles, he always came back. ALWAYS.

He must.

Because, if he didn’t, he would simply wither away. He couldn‘t live without his love anymore. Not when he finally found it after years of hiding and denying himself. He had thought it was wrong, absurd… Disgusting, even. To have such thoughts… Thoughts that invaded his mind every second of his day, awake or not. It almost made him go mad. He had begun to hurt himself. The silver lines on his arms and thighs were a daily reminder of that. He had argued with himself in his head. That he imagined it all inside his mind. The lingering touches, the stolen glances, the unspoken words.

And, when he finally got what he craved so long for, he almost ruined it all by running away and hiding himself again.

But he was found. Pulled from the dark, the shadows, into the light. He had struggled and screamed and cried. But his brother was stronger than him. He forced him to listen, muffled his cries with kisses, let him hit his broad chest with all his force, endured all his curses with patience. Because he knew he didn’t mean it. He knew he had fallen back in old habits. Hurting himself, physically and mentally, because he believed he never deserved to be loved. Because he wasn’t normal. An abomination with no place to belong.

He knew now that he was mistaken. His love… No, the love of his life… Had made that clear. He had a place where he belonged. At his side. For eternety.

It was why he was afraid everytime his love left the realm to fight in seemingly pointless battles, fruitless wars that had no victor and only brought death and destruction.

If he ever lost the love he found, there would be no place in the nine realms to hide from his rage. He would turn loose to seek vengeance for his loss and he knew he was so powerful nothing could stop him. Nothing but HIS love.

It was why he needed him to come back. He can’t lose himself and bring Ragnarok upon the worlds. He would feel that guilt forever. But he couldn‘t change who he was - no matter how hard he tried.

He needed him to ground himself, to keep the monster inside at bay. To keep it from coming out of the darkness and swallowing every light that ever was and ever will be.

He felt it rattling in his cage. His moods were known to everyone around him and, the longer his love was away, the worse they got. He couldn’t do this any longer. He craved to be touched. He even tried to still his cravings with various lovers. But he sent them away everytime. They weren’t his love. They couldn’t satisfy his needs.

And so, he sat there, in the stables, sharing his pain with a creature that he knew would understand him.

„You miss him too, hm?“

The mare huffed and put her soft nostrils in his hand. No one was allowed to go near her apart from the princes. She would kick and bite everyone that tried to put a hand on her. She was as stubborn and fierce as her master.

He laughed. A sad, soft laugh.

The mare lowered her head to his face. He looked in her intelligent brown eyes, seeing himself in them. His face was wet and reddened from his silent tears. She looked at him for a long moment until she finally lifted her head again and bumped his fingers with her nose.

He knew what she wanted. But he wasn’t sure if it was helping their longing or made it worse.

However, he craved it as much as she did.

His fingers began to glow an eerie green; sparks flew from his fingertips.

In front of them appeared a cloud of green mist. At first, it was only a swirl of colours, but slowly the colours took forms and created an image.

A man, blonde and bulky, armed in a heavy breastplate but his muscular arms were bare. He held a hammer in his right hand, his long hair was losely held up by two strings bound in the back. His blue eyes stared at them… But, also, not. They stared straight through them.

He twitched his fingers and the image began to move. It smiled, the eyes focused, it lifted a hand to wave at them, turned the head and looked around.

It was almost as if he was here. Here with them. But they knew he was not. Not for a while longer.

When the sun reached her peak, he snapped his fingers and the image was gone.

He wiped his face with the hem of his tunic and unfolded his legs to stand up to his full, imposing height.

Waving his hand, he conjured his formal attire from his chambers onto his body and held his head high.

He braced himself for the angry questions on his whereabouts that he knew were to come. He had ignored his duties for too long already today.

He was surprised when he walked across the paths that lead to the palace and he saw the whole of the servantry scurrying around like ants. Confused, he grabbed one of the maids to stop her from running to wherever she was headed.

„Tell me girl. What is all this furore about?“

The scrawny woman looked at him with wide eyes.

„Haven’t you heard it, Lord Regent? The King is back! He has just arrived at the gates!“

She winced at his painful grip and, when he realised, he let go of her with a nod.

He needed a moment to grasp what she had said.

The King is back!

Taking two deep, calming breaths, he let his face fall into his long-learned, royal grimace of slight annoyance and strode towards the palace.

Internally, his heart was racing and his thoughts were falling over themselves in their eagerness to be expressed.

The King is back.

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blankdblank · 2 years

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The White Dove Pt 35 - Kanelbulle, the Menace and the Spanish Inquisition

... Masterlist ...

Still pushing through a rough week, but the fun story-wise continues. As always would love to hear what you might think of how the story is going or what you might think could be coming up around the corner. Sending warm wishes to your corners of the world and hope all is going well there.

Oh, and if you wouldn't mind would you consider this story crack fic? Been told that it's when things drift outside the realm of possibility, but it's for Marvel, anything can happen. So let me know what you think if it would qualify or not, I know a fair bit of my ideas can be out there but not sure if it measures up to that tag. Trying to make sure the story is tagged right so I might draw in more interest and possibly some feedback. :)

****....****

Thursday and Friday you had off, and after distraction days prior in the decathlon team meeting costumed and painted from the game with the half marching band uniformed team behind you into a sea of bodies at Columbia you led the way. For a puzzling sight your tigress self found your table to set up the project you had brought for this competition. Still after all you had done a lengthy description and stream of questions came from them on the several use smart watch like device that would help blind users or those hard of seeing, and possibly on a simpler area to translate things audibly into other languages.

Navigation, item descriptions by means of using installed scanning micro camera lens, text to speech also using scanner for item to translate, atmospheric changes to warn of weather trouble on its way to find cover and even a means of location to ping for help if an injury occurred paired with button alert if they found themselves unable to talk. Designs of what you couldn’t get to yet also had adaptations for those who could not speak or even those who are epileptic to warn of symptom of an impending seizure and alert for help. Several devices inspired at first by ways you had thought up possible gadgets to help Daredevil while Misique was on a mini exploration trip.

During the questioning that seemed to gain little ground, that had Eddie on the side with a second reporter who he bragged to on the project that wanted the scoop on. Having a legally blind sister he helped to look after, a new invention of a Queens local always seemed to draw in attention so this wouldn’t get pushed aside, the rest of your team accepted the offered tour of Dr Connor’s experiment.

A sneak peek of what the famed scientist was working on under the paycheck of Oscorp was stolen. Though irritatingly in second place you held a ridiculous melon sized crystal bull statue beside the gold statue wielding winner, who invented essentially a lego sized taser that could be marketed to parents of little kids for self protection, had you about ready to bash him over the head at the dangerous ways that could go wrong. But the military rep you knew fairly well was intrigued and surely greased the wheels mid judging.

All you could do was keep a straight face and wait until you could rejoin your group and brother’s side, focused only on how Michelle Jones had kept stealing looks Peter’s way as he rubbed the back of his neck mid conversation with Ned about a project table nearby. “I won the bull,” you said to Eddie in the beginnings of the talk with his fellow reporter to fill out your part of the story after his having spoken to everyone else, including the winner.

Isaiah curiously had been talking to another student himself but broke off to give you a side hug in pride to see that you at least were walking away with something for your hard work on top of the nightly ballet shows five times a week. Though focus on them wouldn’t last long as you had to head home and ready for the suddenly decided dinner with Eddie at the Stacy’s home.

“Hi,” you said with a grin to Mrs Stacy who grinned back at your emerald plaid sweater dress clad self.

“Hello, come on in, Pluto.” From the covered container in your hand she looked over your stockings that mid thigh were shown to be sheer then right above the knee were solid black to blend into your black heeled booties. The silver shorts seen under the skirt matched Eddie’s shirt he paired with black jeans and his nicer grey velour dress boots for this odd occasion as you lifted the container, “You brought food?”

“Kanelbulle,” you answered and caught her eye after a second look at the container, “Cinnamon buns. Gwen said you and Mr Stacy like cinnamon, it was this or Applekaka, which is Swedish apple cake, but she said your youngest has a thing with apples.”

“Yes, thank you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

Eddie said, “It’s a family thing, always bring food. Plus we are working our way through this huge book on Scandinavian recipes we’re weeding out for allergies and, it has been a blast.” Smiling as they shook hands. “Eddie Brock, heard all about you.”

“Helen,” she answered and gestured her hand to the side, “Come on in.”

“Gwen, your girlfriend is here!” the younger blonde boy darting across the visible living room called out as his darker haired older brother chuckled darting after him to finish putting away their games they had out in the wait for dinner.

“Ya, stop staring at yourself in the mirror!” the latter called out audibly gaining a scoff and opened door for her to reply when they were in their shared hall of bedrooms.

“You know we’re-,” Gwen was heard by you in the shift of your eyes to her father who was adjusting the waistband of his pants having shut off the new version of footloose that had been playing then offered you his hand.

“The infamous Pluto. Nice to have a name with a face. Seen you around town past few years, and on the parade, part of why our Gwennie wanted to join the Color Guard. George.”

“Hi, I brought Kanelebulle.”

“Wow, never had that, can’t wait to try it. Hope you like branzino.” He said making you smirk at him.

“Fish markets were half a mile down the road from my old home. All my friends used to joke we’d have gills by twenty with how much fish we ate.” You said making him chuckle and release your hand to shake Eddie’s.

“Saw the Bugle’s bit on the Duckling. Gwennie’s been meaning to try that same shop, glad you two decided on Italian, they pulled five armed men out of that place, then not even a stone’s throw some of the Kingpin gang punks tossed dressed dummies off the bridge. Maniacs, had thirty calls they tossed two kids off the bridge, had the whole school in an uproar.”

“Dad,” Gwen grumbled and George looked between his freshly arrived daughter, dressed in the purple dress you’d helped her to pick while out shopping, reminding him to not get too into work talk making him grin at Eddie and let his hand go.

“But that’s work talk, we are here for dinner.” He said then asked, “Have you seen the new Footloose?”

“Warning, Bacon alert.” The blonde boy said on his way to help set the table as Mrs Stacy accepted hold of your container to add it to a plate all its own to go beside the mini tart desserts she had picked up to serve.

“Dad’s a fan of Kevin Bacon. We had a healthy discussion of the importance of Footloose earlier before we gave the new adaptation a try.”

“Isn’t that the one where he dances in that warehouse?” you asked and George looked to you curious of your meaning. “Saw that one when I was little, neighbors took to thinking they could fly after that scene, did not go well and several four year olds filled the medical offices for a good week after that.”

Slyly a smirk had spread across his lips and he answered, “Yes, one and the same, seen it since?”

“I have been working through the Tremors series actually, going backwards on his film credits.”

“Well you can’t go wrong with Footloose, let Gwen know when you get to it and we could do a marathon here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Gwen said and gave her dad a pointed look.

“Ya dad, unspoken bonds don’t meet movie marathon with the family level,” her darker haired brother said and chuckled dodging her huff and pointed glare his way making their dad clear his throat.

“Food’s ready,” Helen said luring you all to the table where you were seated between Eddie and Mr Stacy opposite their three children with both parents on the ends.

Fixing his napkin across his lap to the presentation of the full fish dish served with veggies on each plate George looked your way as you unfolded your napkin, having settled your purse on the chair behind your back. “Call me old fashioned, but two months is an awful long time to be dating.” Eddie immediately stole a glance your way as you looked to Gwen, who was hushed in her try to poke her dad in the arm to stop, “What does my Gwennie bear have to show you she’s girlfriend material.”

“I am sorry,” she mouthed your way and you looked his way, blindly fixing the napkin to lay flat.

“Obviously she always has been, no need to prove that to anyone.”

And he gestured a hand your way saying to Gwen, “See, just like the website said, Swedes don’t date, you’re a couple.” If you weren’t locked between being polite and absolute bewilderment you would have felt bothered at the assumption without even having talked to Gwen about any steps towards courtship.

Conversation between the parents was guided to keep the evening going their opinion of well while Gwen tried to keep her awkward grin from splitting across her face. Rounds of the desserts were served as plates were cleared and swapped for a new set to hold the treats and George asked, “I gotta know, you know her, what’s Misique up to on this trip of hers?”

“Expanding more on the ocean floor,” his brows arched up and you said, “The continents are only about a third of the space taken up on the planet, there are no maps of the ocean floor except for around locations of old mine fields, or where Titanic and other ships rest. Even routes submarines travel we have no footage or proper maps beyond rough estimates based off sonar pings where rock features are.” His head nodded in thought and you said, “Think of it this way, Godzilla, thousands of miles down has ruins of an abandoned civilization where ancient people used to pay homage to him, like the Greeks or Asians with temples to their gods for protection.”

“Whoa, there’s a whole city down there?” he asked leaning in a bit.

“Exactly that, just like rumors of Atlantis. We’ve mapped so little of it and all the use for those maps have been to lay bombs for subs to crash into while we were at war or to hunt for lost treasure or the occasional ship or plane wreck. Plus I’ve seen pictures of his civilization and it is truly spectacular, there could be so much more down there.”

“What about great squids?” the youngest brother asked you making you look his way.

“She has found a few, and some more creatures of the deep not even named yet,”

You said making both the boys say, “Cool.”

“I take it that’s how you bonded, over animals?” He asked and you nodded.

“Amongst other things.”

A hug and stolen peck on the cheek was your goodbye from Gwen who hurried to go and hide when she was alone with her family again and you were in the hall waiting for the elevator Eddie hit the button to. Once inside he said, “You know, I thought I was the only one to get stuck in this situation.”

“Two months!” you said and asked him, “How have I been a couple for two months?!”

“Okay, we gotta track this back.” He said and you nodded, clearly grateful for the help in this. “Color Guard, she asked you for help so you stay late few times a week. That’s just helpful,” he said then led the way out when the doors opened on the lobby.

“What I thought, part of my team duties.”

“Exactly, coffee after though,” his head tilted to the side and you nodded.

“Borderline,” you agreed.

“Shopping, with a chaperone, could be a date?”

“Slim, but possible.”

“You talk,” he said when you left the building to walk on the street towards the spot where he parked his bike, having promised to take you to a film after the early supper. “Very respectable hours, you enforce good habits, time for studying, no late night up all hours chats. You don’t hold hands,” that had you lift a hand to point at him and he asked, “What?”

“Bridge night, I took her hand after the rainbow shop thing. I thought she was just scared, her heartbeat was wild so I didn’t let go. She kissed my cheek.” You said and at his bike you stopped to accept the helmet he took off the handlebar to give to you. “How do you just not tell someone you’re together? You have to mention it! Sometime! You do the old ‘oh we’re so cute together’ and,” you paused and in a wide eyed stare he was unable to stop himself from smirking.

“What clicked?”

“She asked me about my plans for babies, and where I wanted to live on the bridge.”

“Okay, that’s deep. That’s two months in talk, two months, so that’s got to be shopping day or one of the coffees at least.”

Adding the helmet you asked him, “Do I flirt? Have I been flirting with her all this time?”

“I think you’re being playful, which is different. But she is 14, I mean, that’s a rush of just crazy to be thrown at you, and you’re a 10, 15 if I use my biased scale. She was bound to fall eventually.”

“That’s not funny, I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’m the older one, I’m supposed to know things. What if she’s gonna expect me to kiss her or something? I don’t even know if I’m just enjoying her company as friends, we just met. She’s 14, I’ve made it two years from that lone dating flub and I still have no idea how to date a 14 year old!”

“Let’s go see the movie, just um, obviously you’re not doing anything wrong, model girlfriend material especially for the parents. So, just keep it friendly, maybe offer an occasional hand hold, but pg should be safe, and if she has any issues she can bring it to the table. Or she’ll huff about it and you can bring up the issue of why she’s huffing and take it from there.”

You sighed and said in adding your helmet, “If I knew it was going to be an official couple meet the parents I would have brought a chocolate sticky cake, makes a better presentation and flavor combination.”

Scans from your bees had confirmed it, and behind the wide eyed Peter inside of Delmar’s Deli you tried to bring up a conversation in the brief time you had before your show tonight. His entire genetic code had evolved and after a couple days of being without his glasses you made him flinch once again in a try to gain his confidence to understand how he was faring. Clearly one of the spiders had gotten loose and Dr Connors was upset in having to breed another one to replace the initial test subject for those desired uses of its webbing and other bodily functions.

“More fun with Ned today?”

Right around his wide eyed self more hopped than pivoted to face you, now hearing again with his new senses an odd effect to your voice he hadn’t noticed before, as if it was layered to be subdued, as if it wasn’t just this frequency your voice could travel between adding to the honey dripped effect it gave your words. “Ned, no. Um, just, getting a sandwich. Why, what did you think we were up to something?”

“He’s your best friend,” you answered.

“Yes, he is,” Peter said and looked you over, curious about your stained t shirt, converse and jeans that had you shorter than usual without heels on to have him actually look slightly down at you instead of being even for a change. Delmar behind the counter smirked at another odd interaction between the two of you. “He has an appointment.”

“Very convenient. If you were more self conscious and this was a soap opera he’d have a second town and a second best friend hidden somewhere.”

“Oh he would not, he’s miserable with secrets.”

“Or so you think,” you said luring a curious smirk across his lips, “Could be the most marvelous cover you’ve ever seen.”

“Are you, relaxing? There’s a show tonight, right?”

“Yes, been printing off wall panels, have a few supporting beams I have to work into these slots within the wall, had to wiggle out the rest of the beams that were broken off inside the slots around the bite.”

“That, hard? To do?” he asked sheepishly, having like Ned been trying to work up the nerve to ask to see your ship sometime in person. Most of his free time lately had been to gather old computers or appliances to fix and fancy up for sale online and the ship along with your watch more reps were still stupidly ignoring the ingenuity of it work on that ship had him ultimately in awe. You were working on an actual space ship and by what you had recorded so far were having great success at it.

“Seeing as the wing joints shocked me and when I first touched the rudder control it bit me, I would say there’s some risk to it.” You said making him chuckle to himself.

“Need a hand?”

“Two would be useful, the beams are fifty pounds a piece.”

“That’s, is it supposed to be fifty pounds each?”

“After wiggling the remaining bits out I weighed them and measured the space on the bite, and scanning through where the beams would be on the other side of the hull to have exact measurements.”

That had him nod, “Weight of what’s missing compared to how much you have and it gives you fifty. Not bad. How many beams are there?”

“They’re half a foot apart, eight, to help support the panels. Then I have to layer that with a series of netting around the border of the torn metal to smooth and weld the rolled bits to it to make fitting the new pieces there smoother.”

“I wouldn’t have the first clue how to fix a boat. That is wild you know that.”

“What’s wild is the Escher like mast. It folds like gears in layers but expands and has thinner supporting woven patterns in between to lock it together. Can’t find trace of wires and it’s kind of like a magnetic force to lock them together when they’re expanded, but there’s no magnets.”

“Unless it’s like some alien metal that only bonds to itself?”

“Tried that. Unless it has something to do with the engine and its star engine core that maybe zaps it then after it bonds to itself once expanded.”

“Star core, so cool.” He said then turned for his turn to request food.

Not long after with food in hand he was able to circle the ship as you readied the beams. Sight of you moving them to the deck then you carrying each one to wiggle with down the space around the mast had him stand on the ship to ask, “Wouldn’t there be a hatch to get down there?”

“I’m certain there is, I just haven’t located it yet.”

“But, there’s a giant hole in the side of the ship. You could climb in there.”

Halfway down the space again with another beam you paused to look at him, weight supported by one palm on the deck, “Now that would be just rude. If you inexplicably grew a second belly button on your bicep I wouldn’t go sticking my finger in it. The hull will be patched one day when I get enough scale panels printed.”

Smirking to himself he watched you pop down then did himself to move the chair so he could reach as you moved all the beams beside the gaping hole. “Hey,” you said crouching to ease the final beam in place across your lap readying to lift it snapping his eyes right to your shadow encased nervous self. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said with a chuckle, “You’re letting me help you work on a space ship. Ask me anything.”

The two foot thick, half foot tall beam that stretched longer than the gap was lifted on one side to line it up with the opening groove for it along the wall of the hull, and you asked, “You’ve seen me with Gwen, do, we seem, couply?”

The other end of the beam was lifted on his raised palms to help with the alignment in making it level, “You are a couple.”

“I get that,” you said beginning to wiggle the subtly curved beam that just barely had enough space to get it to go deeper. “I’m ace, I don’t really get the whole hormone and, social dating scheme.”

“Oh,” he said and at the lock of the beam in place you both eyed the other side and he shifted to face the other way to begin to wiggle it back the other way, “Well you seem happy, both of you. Really a lot of girls have been sighing and complaining their boyfriends aren’t as understanding or give them as much support or space for free time.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing then. Hard to know, how I’m perceived outside of being odd.” You continued to wiggle the beam in to the liquid chalk line you measured to have it lined up as it should compared to the other side to by symmetrical.

“You know, we’re all odd ducks,” he said letting the beam go to move his arms at his sides as you readied the next one. “And besides, like that Dr Seuss quote, ‘You have to be odd, to be number one.’ Aunt May got me that on a poster when I was little. Or Alice in Wonderland, best people being mad and all that. Everyone who creates something has to be a bit odd.”

“You get a lot of motivational speeches don’t you?” you asked and he chuckled.

“That obvious?”

“Welcome to the boat Skipper. Eddie loves himself a good motivational quote of the day calendar, even got an app on his phone to have it pop up each day.” Up into the groove the next was wiggled to slide in to be wiggled the way back to the chalk lines, two more were added until Eddie in his return grinned in being a taller set of hands to help you finish the job off.

Rolled up the honeycomb metal netting was held by Eddie with heat resistant gloves so you could curve and arch it to weld, with the visor on as Peter finished off his meal the support around the edges of the hole. A break was taken to allow you to finish your meal as Eddie used the welding torch on a lower heat to warm the metal that had rolled outward the most to hammer as flat as possible against the netting.

After your food was gone scans of the partial scales that were already taken to see if they were lined up level to be able to take the layer above it to be added. A test that when Peter was gone you could come back later to manipulate the metal in it to lay flatter than Eddie was capable to work it; the hole with gaps between beams didn’t look much better.

But at least the support there showed progress that online in the comments would have mini explosions of glee at what you were capable of getting done in the small break you had today to get it done. Now with a backing there even ship builders knew that gradually if you wouldn’t have time for long sessions scales could be layered to keep progress to attain float and watertight status in no time.

While news of your show had put the gym trips on a sparser schedule the few times you did see him since apparently the confirmation of your relationship with Gwen, a certain billionaire’s son seemed to have something brewing inside that head of his now there was an official competition to your free time. Norman at least as Dr Connors was gaining ground on his research was pleasantly distracted from tries to poach any and all ideas possible from you in each time you spoke.

But halfway through November your main focus was to keep everything on an even keel to ensure you completed the obligated shows to the end of December to gain several thousands to sit on like a tiny dragon with a scaled down mighty hoard of savings. Until you had to spend it on school and other expenses to cover until you could legally play poker and gain some serious funds on the side. You just had to agree to have a study group with Harry this week to calm his worry on spare attentions all his own on top of gym trips.

‘Green Cackler Spotted’

Across headlines the arrival of a new villain in town above your heads in the streets that ran over the subway a battle was raging. One you bore no energy to pay no mind to as beside a pillar you stood nodding off in wait for the train to take you home. Others down here amongst the just swarm of masses, including those with children, escaping the waging battle above tried to distract said children and one another with small talk or stolen glances your way at one oblivious to muffled crashes, blasts and explosions. Somewhere between sleep and dreams bees kept sharing bits of what was around you a telling ring of metal across concrete had your eye crack.

Bomb, gold and green a triple beep warning to a boom split your eyes and had those around you group up with nowhere else to go. Up above, the yet to be named green menace, had thrown that and Captain America had knocked it away with his shield down here. Out of his way and right into yours. The golden shell split open and a telling scream of explosives had your eyes snap open, glittering yellow and around a pair of small children and the pillar you moved, hands glowing to cast a barrier and convert the energy of said blast.

Too fast to see the glow of the hatted and thickly coated body let them know of the name of who had prevented this disaster. But right in the heart of a smaller sort of mushroom blast they stood in silence watching the swirl of green get lost in the frenzied glittering yellow pulses of energy to burst not just here but all through the state subway system. Too much energy was left over and without thought over the surfaces of every subway center a thin layer of vibranium was spread, packed trains and rails alike stained in various colors. Enhancing the electrical system and adding guarding bee monitors and barriers to protect people in the future from danger of crimes and weather alike should it flood like it had two years ago.

The glow lingered and through the opening of the subway stations more bodies took it as a sign of safety or merely less danger than where they were at and raced there away from the Star Spangled Avenger and his backup. Out of the nearest exit to their damage a swarm of bees only enforced the fact of who was down there on its path to Black Widow’s back. Off her thigh when it warped to be a crude silhouette of Misique cast with projections to show your mask a handgun was pulled, aimed and fired dropping her jaw at what you had done. One shot, straight through Captain America’s back and out his chest lodged into the chest of the green menace dropping him off of his glider.

To a knee Cap dropped in a half twist to see who had shot him. Back to Nat the bees gave the gun, more dropping it in front of her with little care if she caught it or not. And his pained gaze scanned over the small swarm who pointed to the subway opening now growing dimmer to reveal the lingering wave of smoke pooling out of it from the explosion, speaking together an imitation of Misique’s voice, “There are children down there.” They split apart and faded in the stunned silence as the Avengers could see the people they had put in danger and buildings they had broken by means of ‘helping’ the city.

Down below long as you could you held consciousness. All the same, once that single gunshot was fired down to your sides your hands dropped and knees gave out to have your collapsing self be encased with all the bees forming the barrier. Every inch of you was covered, hat held on by their numbers down to the soles of your boots with bag bee coated and pressed to your belly.

Awkwardly on a shoulder you had landed to give off a sort of pop, the telling sound of that joint dislocating upon impact to your bees, and out of the stunned masses locked in silence a man split from his huddled group. The one with the girls you moved around. Off his back his rather expensive outer jacket was removed to be bunched and in a creep closer to ease the bee coated head up to slide the jacket under it. Buzzing and flicked wings of the bees nestling to cover every inch ensured by layer upon layer of them like a cocoon they would stand guard keeping watch over every body that would pass by until you could wake up and stumble home again. And just in case two wiggled down into your boot to hit the ping box to call for Eddie to come and find you or contact through Venom another Symbiote to do so.

Back atop his glider the menace pounced, blood spilling down his chest plate to soar his way down into the subway. Cackles to the crowds there would be recorded as his reaction to finding a bee encased body. Up into his arms he hoisted you up, having sent out an electrical type of pop rocks that fizzled and caused the arguing masses to halt their try to save you and just watch and wait until they could be told it was safe to come out. Out of the subway he flew, over the heads of the Avengers, granting only a glimpse when a few layers of the bees broke off the arm that fell into view flashing a couple rings Hawkeye recognized at once.

“That’s Pluto,” he muttered and shouldered his bow to race for the bike Cap had shown up on. Close behind War Machine thwarted drones and gas to try and keep on his tail while Stark, who was out of town, sent empty Iron Man suits to try and help the tracking. Only to lose sight of him beyond lower Brooklyn in a wonky wobbly path all over New York. Through the streets of Manhattan Clint was the closest, tracing any sign of bodies of passers by he could ask for sign of where the menace had gone to. Steve meanwhile by Nat was being hoisted up into and then out of a vehicle to carry him to Stark Tower to get medical attention for his punctured lung and severed artery.

Soft and low a grumble left your lips as you opened your eyes splitting the bees above you to coat the lounge you were on continuing their patrol as you brought out your phone. “Eddie,”

“Sis, what’s going on? Ping box went off and internet is saying Cap blew up the subway in uptown then got shot.”

“I was in the subway, I guess the Cap part is true, knocked a bomb down into the subway. I passed out but the hive says green menace took me,” up off your back you lifted painfully to look around the room only to stop at the giant portrait of Norman Osborn. “I’m in Osborn’s house. Menace left me here then took off.”

“I can have Phage and Shriek out there if you need them. I’m still out in Pennsylvania but I can fly back.”

“I can get home. Focus on your story. I’m just tired, got my hive.”

“You call me if you need anything at all.”

“I will. Text you when I get home.”

“Soon as I get home I’m killing that green bastard.” You hung up as he did, pocketing your phone to ease your tired legs off the lounge to force yourself upright. Airborne the bees formed groups to give you something to hold yourself up to get to the door. Quietly you eased the handle to crack it open enough to have a trio of bees scan the room in case the menace was out there. You needed something to eat, and you assumed Harry at least would be understanding if some food was used to be replaced later on, so to the kitchen you aimed yourself. Marble floors tried to give hint you were there in numb footed echoing steps to the next ornate wood paneling on pillars or door frames.

“What do you have?” you muttered and gathered a couple apples and found an unused container of cream cheese near to expiration you added and claimed the unused bagels surely bought at the same time far harder than they ought to be for enjoyment. A dagger from your waist when you set your bag on the counter was brought out so over a paper towel you tore from the roll near to the sink you cut the apples up then sheathed it again. The lid was removed and silver film pulled back to scoop the fruit in the topping for a hopeful burst of sugar to help power your legs to get the distance home. Around the apple slice you grumbled however as your phone rang again.

One handed it was brought out to read who disturbed your snack, “Hey, Lt Rhodes.” You said answering the call once you saw who it was. Wondering what he wanted from you as it was too coincidental to be something causal at this hour.

“Where are you right now?”

“Oddly enough, I’m in Norman Osborn’s house, stealing some of his food.” And before he could ask you say, “I woke up on the chaise, and I really don’t know much else.”

“Pluto I need you to stay put,” he tells the team, “She’s at Norman Osborn’s house, Misique must have dropped her there taking on the menace.”

The lights suddenly came on halting your chew of the next slice of apple you had coated in the topping. To the door your head snapped, where Harry froze seeing you in the sea of bee coated counters and cupboards, having woken up to news that the menace had stolen away with a woman from the subway. Into the phone after swallowing you said, “I’m gonna have to call you back,”

“Don’t you hang up! Pluto!”

“Pluto?” Harry asks curiously.

“I, um, I have the military on the phone, um,” you said making Harry smirk curiously.

“Pluto the tower has a helipad, right? Do you see one?”

And you shift the phone to ask, “There’s a helipad here right?”

“Yes,” he said moving closer.

“Yes,” you say then say to Harry, “Something happened in the subway, big explosion and some green guy picked me up and I woke up on your lounge, and am now stealing your food.”

That had him chuckle and say, “I’ll make you something better to eat than cream cheese,” he said smiling as he moved to the fridge. “Welcome here anytime.”

“Pluto we’ll be there in three minutes.” Rhodey said and you simply covered your face with a hand.

“Sure, just, sure.”

“You alright, did you hit your head?”

“I’m just really tired. Just got off work, Harry’s making me something to eat.”

“Good, we’re gonna get you fed and looked after and then back home don’t you worry.”

You lowered your phone muting it as you whispered, “I really wish they’d stop saying that.”

Harry chuckled asking, “Say what?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not worried, I’m tired fell asleep on the subway and got carried off by some green guy after the whole place exploded. I have nothing to be worried about.” You said making him chuckle again as you lifted the phone you un-muted to Rhodey’s next question.

A bacon and egg based so called ‘power smoothie’ he swore by was whipped up and pressed together as a helicopter was seen to be flying closer to the tower. In one go you downed the drink and settled the glass in the sink restraining a grimace while saying, “Thank you, Harry, and sorry, I’ll pay you back for the food.”

On your shoulders he rested his hands, trying not to notice the swollen shoulder internally he questioned, “Take as much food as you want here any time. Obviously we have more than enough.” His grin spread saying, “Next time go for the good stuff.” As you collected your purse and hat he said, “I’ll show you to the helipad.”

Rhodey beside the helicopter landed to watch you walk out of the double doors towards the two soldiers who climbed out of the door to help your notable self into the vehicle. The closer you got eyes settled on the swarm of bees that latched onto your bag, arms and back and into your braided hair to keep close to you. All of whom they moved to cover your front to crawl under your jacket so you could sit back against the seat, hands one at the door helped to keep you level on the way inside.

Off the ground it lifted to start the flight to the base where you built the Blackhowls. Over the radio Rhodey stated he was going to keep looking for the menace in one more sweep of New York and his usual haunts where he had been spotted. And the men on either side of you over the headset they put on your head kept you awake between the clear urge of your body to go to sleep as you kept nodding off.

“Okay, basic checkup, were you injured?” the Medic asked turning your head to the smear of blood down your arm.

“That’s not mine. Must be from the green guy.”

“Can we take your coat to swab that?” you nodded and grimaced in the shrug out of your arm parting lips on him and his Nurse seeing the bees across your chest and belly. “We got bees.” Shaking his head he looked to the SHIELD agent along the wall with hold of the leather jacket by the neck they handed over, “Menace blood is on the right sleeve. They’re gonna want that.” They hurried to call that in and make use of some sample kits to go over your jacket for traces of ways to track the menace in and out of his armor.

The Nurse asked, “You do know you’re covered with bees?”

“Yes, they’ll fade when I get home. They won’t hurt anyone.”

The Medic however in a shift around your back till he was back in front of you he eyed your shoulders and asked, “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“I think it’s dislocated. Felt too stiff earlier to pop back in when I woke up,” with warning he shifted the neck of your baggy sweater to see the clearly swollen shoulder.

“Let’s get your weight and we can finish the basic exam and get that popped back in for you.”

Even with the bees you could about feel their displeasure at you being 72 pounds hanging in the air and onto a reclined table you were moved to have your blood pressure checked same as your lungs and heart. Back onto your back you were helped and the bees moved to coat the wall so they could ready to check your arm. One hand rested on top of your shoulder as the Medic laid your arm over the top of his other arm, his eyes swept over you in the steady exhale you gave stirring a stunning limpness in your arm. Just a twitch of your brows together was the response to the snap of the shoulder back into socket. “This happen often?”

“Chaos follows me. Land on my left a good deal.” You said making him smirk to himself.

“I’m gonna rotate your arm and check your other arm before we move onto your legs.” A few times the Nurse had to tap your arm to stop you from nodding off. Eyes and head were checked next when he was sure your legs were fine, “You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

“No, just tired. My night off. I have school, the shows I’m in, work,” into a raised fist you yawned and kept trying to keep awake with a few spare blinks. “I fell asleep in the subway and I woke up in Norman Osborn’s house with the bees. Not sure what happened.”

Lowly the Doctor chuckled to the Nurse stating, “Well you missed a doozy. Apparently Cap knocked a bomb into the subway, Misique was down there, she stopped the bomb and went up to shoot through Cap’s back to hit the menace. He fell off his glider but popped back on and flew down to grab you. Best we were told Misique’s chasing him down and dropped you at Osborn’s, do you know them well?”

“He says we’re friends.”

The Medic said, “That makes sense then. Why she dropped you there. Plenty of beds there I bet. And now off your jacket we have a blood sample to track him down.” Off your neck he asked, “Any issues lately on top of fatigue? You are severely underweight, I do want to talk about that as well. Just gonna check your bowel sounds,” he said removing his stethoscope from his neck to out on.

“I have a bad reaction to shellfish and other foods. Stomach is just in torment for days after, that and other foods, got a meal from a neighbor and it,” you sighed, “Took the wind out of my sails, that on top of a nasty bout of allergies I just couldn’t keep much in my system. I get sick and it seems I take twice as much in to have to get better again. Been getting better, my brother’s been helping me with five pound bags of tater tots and chili. I eat nine times a day, two big meals and small snacks so I’m not facing an eating disorder. I get that often, I just have to keep eating and I’ll gain that weight back easy.”

“Your parents have history of digestion issues?” he asked listening to your belly then moved to hang the stethoscope behind his neck again.

“Mom had Wilson’s Disease and Chorea,” you said parting his lips, “Dad had kidney disease. He said he used to get sick when he was little too, but we didn’t get into his full history. I would have to call Sweden and Norway for his medical records for more.”

“Well if there are issues like this frequently you might want to have a Doctor do more thorough tests on your digestive system. I’m gonna palpate your belly, tell me if anything hurts. And after this we’re gonna get you some tater tots and chili.”

Amusement of the large supply of tots was traded for the more worrisome sight of you hooked to a heart monitor atop a spare bed to get a nap until it was cleared for you to be taken home. Over the top of you like a blanket the bees coated you, buzzing in conversation while keeping Eddie up to date on progress of the task of returning you home.

Rhodey, upon arrival into the building he found the medic asking, “How’s Pluto?”

“For the most part intact, aside from a dislocated shoulder no injuries. Said she fell asleep on the subway and just woke up in Osborn’s house.”

“That’s good,” he said and let out a breath, “What else?”

“Other than the fact she’s 72lbs.”

Rhodey shook his head and let out a chuckle, “She says she eats nine times a day. I’ve seen her eat myself she’s like a tiny linebacker.”

“Well she said she had a bad reaction to something a neighbor gave her, and said allergies on top of that she just burned through all she was able to eat, and wasn’t able to keep much in her system. She’s small and under a great deal of stress, mentioned school, work, a show and I know she builds planes too. If there is any sign of digestive trouble or inability to keep weight on she needs deeper testing, said she doesn’t have a full history of her parents but her dad said he got sick as a kid like she did. We gave her tater tots and chili and she’s napping now. When is she gonna be able to go home? Apparently the bees won’t leave her till she gets there.”

Rhodey soaked all that in saying, “Misique does keep a good eye on her. Won’t be long now. Which room is she in?”

“End of the hall.” The medic nodded his head towards the barely lit room where Clint could be seen in the crack of light from the mostly shut door seated in a hunch forward watching the numbers and lines on the screen dance in odd patterns he couldn’t make sense of.

“Clint,” Rhodey said in his quiet step into the room. “Fury said her building has been cleared, we can take her home.”

“I think she’s having nightmares.” Again the numbers danced up to grow closer to a warning level that would set off an alarm that caused the bees on your chest and arms to spiral and together buzz in what seemed like a too fast to be believed ripple of light around their tiny legs and wings before your numbers leveled out. “They keep doing that.” You weren’t having nightmares however. They were ensuring you didn’t spark up as while you slept part of the hive was already tracing the pathway of the menace to show inside Oscorp a bloody Norman on the security footage dragging himself towards a gas chamber to burst out again cackling with a crude scar across his chest where you had shot him.

“The hive is talking,” you sighed causing the men to look at you, having assumed you were deep in sleep locking them in wonder on how to wake you safely from said nightmares. Opening your eyes you said, “Helping Misique track green guy down.” Off his seat Clint stood to help you sit up with your jacket on his shoulder.

“Jacket’s been cleaned off. When she finds him we’ll be able to lock him down for life.”

Rhodey said, “Heard you’re underweight. Stomach issues.”

“I feel better now I’ve eaten and with a nap. I have a sensitive stomach, after that clears it’s easy to bulk up again.”

Clint asked, “Glucose? One of my boys had that as a baby.”

“No, shellfish. And some other foods. Off results I’ve gotten I don’t fit all the signs to what illnesses I can find in medical books.”

“Either way, let’s get you home and we’ll be checking in on your stomach to make sure you are past your stomach issues. Gotta keep you in good health now.”

“Let me guess, your engineers are still afraid to blow themselves up working on my Blackhowls?” you asked making the duo smirk as you eased off the table and eased on the jacket to take hold of your bag and hat.

“The team likes to see you and you know it. Part of the team.”

Clint at the waiting truck asked you as he climbed in behind you, “So Misique’s back in town? For good this time?”

“Supply run. No sign of any more hidden bases, did find a giant golden statue buried in the sand a friend in Spain is going to help grease some wheels in getting inspectors for one of their museums.”

“I thought museums loved that sort of thing.”

“Well, when it comes to gold that’s another matter. Could just melt it down and pool it back into the economy. I mean the face looks like King Phillip, but that’s just my guess, and anything from that era seems to be alluring. And if they won’t take it I’m certain France would love to add to their museums.”

“Or you could just ask her for it.” Clint joked.

“I don’t feel so fondly about King Phillip to have a golden statue of him.”

“Think of it more as a college fund,” he said making you giggle to his second chuckle.

“Do have to admit seeing his face on the footage reminded me of that Monty Python skit, ‘Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.’”

“Classic,” Rhodey said and they both chuckled now turning the conversation to the classic comedy team for the rest of the ride.

Pt 36

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