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courtforshort15 · 1 year

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Chapter 6

Paring: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 6,800

Summary: It's a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don't want to let go of.

Trigger Warning: Death...it’s a little dark here, y’all. Be cautious if that’s something that might trigger you.

Chapter Index

The inside of the gym is just as old as the outside of the building, faded paint and cracked walls and all. There’s a scent of sweat and used rubber that hits your nose, heightening by warm, stale air that’s unfortunately stopped circulating, likely due to numerous ceiling fans that have stopped spinning and an old AC unit that does not appear to be running.

The gym isn’t really anything special, a dull interior filled with gray lockers, old punching bags, and a boxing ring that had clearly seen better days. It looks like the mat inside the ring, and the ropes surrounding it, might have been replaced a little more recently, but overall the whole building is filled with equipment that has experienced the normal wear and tear of a well-loved but almost forgotten gym.

Your brain struggles to imagine what the gym might have looked like in the glory days, filled with boxers and crowds and screaming coaches, each one hyped up during a training session or match, beads of sweat flying and money switching hands.

Drops and smears of blood are splayed across the concrete floor, and you can’t help the violent shutter that rolls up your spine when you realize they’re fresh, not just old tinted memories left behind by some individual taking a fist to their nose.

You still don't see Matt when you take another few steps in, eyes tracing over the gym in front of you as you narrow your eyes in confusion. But there’s a brief silence that rests between crash after crash in the city, and the quiet murmur of voices and a loud, hacking cough coming through the other side of a door in the far corner echoes throughout the space. You know what a cough such as that means, the deep, rattling cough of someone who’s in pain and not bothering to hide it, and suddenly your feet are taking you across the gym before you've thought about it, cringing when you realize the drops of blood are headed in the same direction.

Walking around the random ceiling tiles and items that have been knocked over, it only takes you a few seconds before you’re in front of a door that says Office at eye level, the lettering bold and faded black. It’s pushed slightly open, just a few pieces of light sliding between the crack and into the gym, and your hands only hesitate for the amount of time it takes to gulp in a deep breath, terrified about what might be beyond the door.

With a racing heart behind ribs that feel like they’re about to shatter from the force, your bandaged hand pushes the door the rest of the way open, widening enough for you to look into a room that’s as equally dull a gray, your eyes flitting over the basic office furniture and additional lockers that rest against the far wall. The scent of the room hits you, something just as stale and old as the rest of the building, but your nose wrinkles when you realize that it’s almost completely covered by the smell of copper.

It only takes a second for you to turn your gaze downward, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen when you take in the sight before you, biting your lip and raising a hand to cover your mouth to help stifle a cry.

Matt’s dark hair stands out against the gray walls and white tile of the floor, the color deep and the strands looking like silk, but his dark head still pales in comparison to the red that is seeping through the ruined fabric of an older man’s t-shirt, sluggishly dripping to the concrete with noiseless drops. Matt’s arm has been wrapped around the man’s shoulders, lifting him into a slightly elevated position as he rests back against Matt’s knee and ever so slightly in his lap, his eyes squeezed shut as he shivers.

The older man is holding a hand to a wound in his abdomen, a deep wince on his face and breathing harshly in the face of whatever pain is likely to be spreading through his nerves like a never-ending wildfire. His gray hair, stained with dust and God knows what else, lays plastered to his forehead with sweat, a small trickle of blood sliding down his face from a knick above his eyebrow. Matt's talking in low tones, something soothing that you can't quite hear from the ten foot distance, as his hand lifts to gently shove the other man's hand away so that he can place another old, ratty towel over a wound you can’t yet see.

The rag is soaked within ten seconds, and it causes your heart to lurch.

Your eyes catch the sight of a stack of clean gym rags on a shelf to your left, so with quick thinking, you grab all of them and make your way towards the man’s side on wobbly feet. In your haste, you don’t bother getting to the ground slowly or gently, simply throwing yourself down next to Matt, knees crashing harshly on the scuffed tile that seems out of place in the old office. You’ll have bruises later, dark blue and purple from the force of falling to your knees, but you won’t be surprised if there’s not an inch of you that’s not marked up by today’s events when all is said and eventually done.

Better an array of bruises than lying in a street, forgotten even once the chaos dies down.

Wordlessly, you take the soaked rag out of Matt’s hands and throw it a few feet away, immediately placing a clean rag onto what you think might be the source of the bleeding. His shirt is too wet with blood for you to really tell exactly where the wound is in his abdomen, but Matt helps you adjust the rag slightly, no doubt helping you put pressure in the correct place.

“What happened, Bill?” Matt asks quietly, almost tenderly, grabbing the other man's hand in his. The grip on Matt’s hand is far too loose in return, almost limp and bone white, though when the man glances up at him, they’re slightly warm with recognition.

You swallow dryly when it suddenly hits you that Matt knows the man, that he’s not some stranger, that Matt has some sort of connection to this man, whether it be large or small. You bite your bottom lip to keep a mournful whine from clawing its way out, doing your best to not sully the sadness that is present on Matt’s face, heartbreakingly aware that this grief is far more his than it will ever be yours.

When you’re able to gain some semblance of control, you dare to ask a question that you don’t think you want to know the answer to, mostly because you’re sure you already know what it’s going to be, and the thought of the finality hurts your chest. Your voice is as close to silence as it’s ever been, but you know he’ll have no trouble hearing it, the words extremely reluctant when they come out. “Matt, is he going to make��”

He shakes his head immediately as he cuts you off before you can finish your question, the motion jerky, mouth grim as he all but confirms that the man isn’t going to live beyond a few more minutes. You have to force down the bile that suddenly rises up your throat.

Here, huddled in an old gym as the city shakes and groans in horror, this man’s story is about to end.

It’s not the time to cry.

Bill coughs, a small trail of blood staining his bottom lip, and you can’t bring yourself to turn away, not when someone needs a level of comfort in their last minutes. You swap the soaked rag with another clean one, hands shaking as you push pressure on the wound again. The man winces at your touch, twisting slightly away from the pain, and it’s almost enough to make you want to pull away, but you keep your hands on the wound, some part of you still hoping in vain that it might help. Matt’s hand settles over yours, his palm far cooler than the warmth of the blood that continues to seep out despite your efforts. The contrast makes you shiver.

“Got hit,” Bill finally manages to rasp out, voice sounding like his throat was made of nothing but razor sharp pieces of glass, shredding each syllable on its way out. He makes no indication that he heard your question or saw Matt’s answer. “One of those things caught–caught my side.”

“Where were you?” Matt questions softly, brow furrowed as the man looks up at him, gray eyes already glassy.

“On my way here,” BIll replies with another loud cough, one that causes his chest to spasm, and you ease up on the pressure to allow the movement. “Up a block. I was…I was able to drag myself in here.”

A new rag is swapped for the one currently pressed into his side, and you try to ignore both the dwindling stack of clean ones, and the heap of soaked ones, the red cruel and angry against the white of the floor.

“How…” Bill starts, a loud moan breaking the quiet when you press a little harder than before, as if adding more pressure will save him. “How did you know…how did you know I was in here?”

Slowly, you open your mouth to reply with a stilted excuse, but Matt beats you with a subtle shake of his head. “We don’t need to worry about that, Bill. We’re just lucky we found you.”

The grin that suddenly twists itself on to Bill’s lips lacks humor. “Lucky,” he says bitterly, “nothing lucky about being o-outside when shit went sideways just because….just because I decided to take an early lunch.”

The frown that deepens on Matt’s face is so sad that it easily becomes one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to look at. It’s completely devastated, though he tries to hide it, likely for the sake of the man dying in his arms, but you can see the way he’s struggling to hold it together. You take one blood soaked hand off of Bill’s side and place it on his leg, squeezing lightly with whatever comfort you’re able to provide in the moment, before it returns to add more pressure on the wound.

“I’m not–I’m not gonna make it,” the man says, a tear sliding down his face, mixing with the trickle of blood that’s still staining his cheek. “I’m not gonna…”

“Don’t say that,” you whimper quietly, squeezing your eyes tightly, turning your head into your shoulder to hide the way your face twists in a level of sorrow you haven’t felt in years, but one that seems to be the consistent theme of today’s massacre. You don’t think Bill hears you as he doesn’t acknowledge the words that you say, but Matt does, and he leans into your shoulder, both seeking and giving the comfort that the two of you are able to provide to one another.

When you look back, Bill’s eyes are fluttering, as if he’s fighting to keep them open, the drag of death continuing its journey to pull him under. “I’m not gonna make it,” he repeats quietly, “am I?”

Matt’s shoulders hunch in on themselves as his face cracks again, lip trembling for a quick second before he takes in a deep breath. “No, Bill. I don’t think you are.”

The older man shudders a nod in his grasp, eyes rolling back slightly, chest expanding rapidly in a hitched gasp, one that sounds painful on its exhale. His hand, still weak and pale, latches onto Matt’s dress shirt as if needing the additional physical comfort in these last moments.

“You gotta do me a favor, Matt,” Bill rasps out suddenly, and for the first time, his eyes meet yours, widening as if he was too out of it before to realize that someone else was there with him. You do your best to offer a small smile, but you know you fail, dry lips refusing to stretch. Bill’s own mouth smiles sadly at yours before his eyes shift back up to the man at your side.

“Anything,” Matt promises quietly.

“I got married,” he begins roughly, noting Matt’s small jilt of surprise at the revelation. “I got m-married two years ago. I need you to find her and tell her that I l-love her and that I’m s-sorry.”

Matt nods his head slowly, his breath hitching on a sudden gasp, hand squeezing Bill’s hand as the man’s speech begins to slur and stutter. “What’s her name?”

“Anne,” the other man replies with a shudder, wide eyes beginning to tear up again. His lips have lost their color, you notice with a shudder of your own, head dropping so that you can look away, just for a second, from the sadness that continues to pull at his face. “My Annie. My b-beautiful Annie. Annie Campbell. P-promise me you’ll find her.”

Matt can’t quite get the words out, so you respond instead once you’re able to look up again. “We promise,” you vow quietly, speaking for Matt who looks just shy of losing all composure, knuckles white from where they hold on to Bill’s shoulder.

“And t-take care of your girl,” he coughs out, chin shifting as if nodding in your direction, and your jaw can’t help but drop slightly at the comment, even as Matt swallows with another nod of his head. “Get–get her out of here. Keep each other safe.”

You don’t even bother objecting to the assumption, simply releasing the pressure from his side and grabbing the hand that’s buried in Matt’s shirt, taking it in yours and holding tight. Bill sends a watery, strained smile your way, one that doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I will,” Matt whispers softly, not bothering to correct him. “We’ll keep each other safe.”

Bill’s eyes continue to flutter, staying closed for longer periods of time, only opening with a deep gasp that shudders his frame. He doesn’t speak again, merely focuses on breathing, hand weak and beginning to slide out of your hold. Your eyes tear up, the image of him blurry on the floor in front of you, the heat of the tears temporarily fogging your glasses. You don’t bother wiping at them, knowing that once you start crying for real, you won’t be able to stop.

“It’s okay, Bill,” Matt murmurs as his hand tightens around Bill’s even as it trembles, and you watch as the man’s face starts to go slack, fading away in front of your eyes. “It’s ok to let go. We’ll be right here.”

“Not going anywhere,” you affirm softly, ignoring the tears that continue to streak down your cheeks. “We’ll stay with you.”

Bill’s eyes slide open and meet yours again, deep gray glossing over, and it doesn’t take a genius for you to realize that his vision is slipping away with every single second that passes by. The pleading in them has shrunk back, a sense of resignation taking its place, and it takes everything in you to not lose it, to not break down. Bill deserves someone who is calm and assuring during his last minutes of life, and Matt deserves to be the one to have someone else be the strong one in this situation, and so you hold the grief in, wishing to give these moments to them.

He lets out a shaky breath, the sound lacking the pain that had been filtering through with every inhale and exhale. His hand falls limp in Matt’s hand, his lips fall open, and where there should have been another gasp for air, there is none.

Gone.

Matt’s face crumbles, head bowing in grief. You remember his comment about being able to hear heartbeats, and it causes you a swift and burning sensation of heartache, knowing that he must be far more aware of the silence than you are. You’d been focused on Bill’s rising and falling chest, the gasping for breath and quiet moans of pain, but Matt’s been forced to hear three heartbeats dwindling down to two.

A few tears slide down his face, followed by a quiet sniffle, and you imagine the sadness on his face matches yours, haunted by something so deep and so grief-stricken that it reminds you of the anguish that hadn’t left your features for months after your mother died.

“He’s been the manager here for thirty years,” Matt whispers, head tilted down towards his blood-soaked hands, the red still the color of life that had poured from Bill. “He knew my dad. Helped me with my homework when I’d come in with my dad so he could train.”

It takes you far too long to recognize that what’s haunting Matt’s face are memories of a time long past, of moments in time when his father had been around and taken him to places where people knew him and cared for him, and the pain that’s swallowing him is one you’re all too familiar with. Shifting your eyes to the man that lays dead next to you, your heart twinges at the sight of his wrinkled skin already losing warmth with every second that passes by. You reach forward, hand trembling as you shut the man’s eyes, hating the vacant look that’s settled in them.

“I’m so sorry, Matt,” you say quietly as you slowly sit back on your heels, turning your attention back to the man next to you, his shoulders slumped and defeated. Matt continues to sit at your side, silence settling over the room, such a shocking difference to the man who had been gasping in pain just minutes before while Matt held him in his lap. “I am so sorry. I don’t—I don’t even know what to say, or what to–”

“You don’t need to say anything,” he interrupts you softly, head lifting up in your direction, your reflection glinting in the black lenses of his glasses. “Just…just be here with me for a few minutes. Please?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you tell him as you shift over a few inches, leaning into him. You lift your arm to wrap it around his shoulders, but he beats you to it, red hand trailing across your upper back before it lands on your shoulder and pulls you in closer. You wrap your arm around his waist instead, and it takes all of two seconds before his head is dropping to rest against yours, smooth skin and strands of silk brushing your face as he settles.

The two of you sit like that for what feels like hours but is likely only five minutes, leaning into each other, choosing to ignore the pool of blood that is still staining the ground you’re settled on. Neither of you move, not even as a loud crash shatters the silence from a few blocks away, instead focusing on the quiet shifting of air as your breathing syncs up with his. He doesn’t cry, not really, though there’s no mistaking the slight damp spot on your forehead and the hand that occasionally lifts to brush his cheek.

Your tears match his, silent and unheeded, nothing but the occasional sniffle and the faint smell of salt.

Matt finally stirs, lifting his head off of yours, and you immediately miss the light pressure that’s been removed as he begins to shift away. His warmth leaves you, and you’re left with a slight chill, one that makes its way through your body and down to your fingertips. His arm slides across your back as he lets go of your shoulders, hand trailing over your blouse in a way that’s almost soothing.

He stands up smoothly in one quick motion, his hand already reaching down and encouraging you to grab it so that he can pull you up. You take him up on his offer, knees stiff from kneeling on the concrete, and you’re standing upright in two seconds, wobbling into him before he helps you regain your balance.

Leaning over to brush the dust and dirt off your pants, you watch as he grabs a clean cloth from a few feet away to wipe the blood off of his hands. He tosses you a clean one as well, and you catch it easily despite your perpetually shaking hands, scrubbing at the red that’s already begun drying on your skin. Matt’s tie that is wrapped around your hand is already soaked through with blood from the gash in your palm, so you focus on your other hand, wanting nothing more than to clean under your fingernails.

The bus that had burned in reds and yellows and oranges is forever seared into your head, the sight of scalded flesh and melting metal likely to leave you with vicious nightmares anytime you close your eyes, but it’s almost nothing compared to the feeling of blood seeping over your skin and into your clothing. Both were bound to leave you haunted for the rest of your life, but one was merely visual while the other was forever going to be etched into your skin, the remembered feeling of someone’s life literally sliding out onto your fingers.

When you finish scrubbing your hands as best as you can, you glance up to where Matt stands, now only a few feet away from you, his hands placed on his hips as he tilts his head in thought.

“Should we–”

But before you can finish your question, the building suddenly rattles and groans, and you find yourself almost immediately shoved up against the lockers as Matt blocks you in, chest to yours as he raises his arms to protect your heads. The shaking doesn’t last long, though Matt stays close as you pant in his ear, your hands wrapped into what used to be his white dress shirt, the fabric covered in dust and dirt and blood, nothing but a brief montage of the horror of today.

When he finally steps back, your wide eyes flit across the room, taking in the few things that have been knocked to the ground off of the old, wooden desk that’s pressed up against the wall, and a ceiling tile that has fallen to the ground, leaving nothing behind but a dark wound against the white of the ceiling. All in all, the damage is minimal, the shaking nothing like what had happened at the bookstore.

“Is it–”

“It’s done, yeah,” Matt says in reply, accurately guessing your question and cutting you off with his answer. “Something crashed nearby, but the building itself is fine.”

The breath you release is shaky. “Okay.”

“We should get moving,” he tells you, hands back on his hips, head thrown back slightly as if studying the ceiling that seems as flimsy as it is sturdy. You can easily guess that the building isn’t as secure as you’d like it to be, far too fragile in its decades of existence, just a shell of what it might have been in its days of glory. But you suppose it’s lack of strength doesn’t really matter, seeing as how no building, new or old, can outrun or outmatch the force of the weapons that have been blasted at brick, concrete, and steel.

“Yeah, we should.” You wince as you shift your feet, shoes feeling more and more painful every time movement stops for a few minutes, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way to the door that opens into the gym, hand pushed out behind you for Matt to grasp on to.

But instead of grabbing your hand and following behind you, Matt suddenly turns on his heel and walks into the corner on the far opposite side of the room, his steps quick and hurried.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a frown as you turn back around, hand still slightly outstretched from where you had offered it to him. It drops to your side as confusion seeps in, watching as he continues walking away. “We need to go.”

Matt doesn’t really acknowledge your words as he bends down to grab something, lips pulled into a thin line of concentration. He’s dipped down slightly behind the desk in the office so you’re not able to see what he’s picked up until he’s standing back up and placing a large laundry basket next to an old computer. It’s filled to the brim in clothing and other items, and the quizzical frown on your face remains as Matt begins digging through it.

“What are you doing?” you question again, repeating your words from just twenty seconds ago. You step closer to the desk as Matt continues to sort through the items almost manically, his movements rapid and still somehow practiced and concise.

“This is an old lost and found basket,” he says in response, brow furrowed as he tosses various t-shirts and sweatpants onto the desk without much care. “I think it has–aha!” He pulls out a matching pair of tennis shoes and slaps them loudly onto the wood of the desk.

Bewildered, your eyes drift back and forth between the pair of shoes and the grim look on his face, though his mouth tilts briefly in success. “What…why were you looking for these?”

He pulls the right shoe into his hand and immediately begins undoing the ties before moving onto the left one. “You need to get rid of the heels,” he tells you as he pushes them towards you. “It’s not safe to be in those.”

Lips twisted in a grimace, you glance back down at the shoes. “But it’s…gross.”

Matt sighs loudly, a tear still faintly glistening on his cheek. “I know, but you’ll be much better off in these. We don’t–we don’t know how long this will last. This subway station may have collapsed, too, and we might need to keep moving for a while. I can’t…I just want to make sure you’re safe and that you can run if you need to.”

“How am I supposed to argue with that?” you ask rhetorically with a grumble as you reach forward to pick up the shoes. Luckily, they look to be about your size, if not a little small, but you suppose beggars can't be choosers in situations like this. The shoes look well-used, the black soles rubbed down and hot pink laces smudged with some dirt, but it seems like there’s little room to think about another solution.

Matt’s right. You’re not safe in the heels, not with the slower pace you’ve been forced to use in order to avoid crashing to the ground, not with the inability to run should something pop up in front of you. The tennis shoes will offer a steadier journey to the station, and it’s not necessarily smart to avoid taking the obvious solution that rests in front of you.

Besides, it’s not just your life at risk. He’s demonstrated by now that he’ll be with you every step of the way, despite whatever it may cost him, and you know you’ll never forgive yourself if anything happens to him while he’s saving you from a situation that could have been avoided.

Matt swings the office chair towards you, careful to avoid brushing against Bill’s foot in the process, and eases you down onto the seat. Without much further ado, you kick your heels off, letting them clack on to the concrete with a graceless fall.

“Are there any–”

Matt places a pair of socks onto the desk near the left shoe, his wince matching your own. Wearing someone else’s shoes was one thing, but wearing their socks was another, and the look on his face suggests that feels the exact same way about it as you.

“....awesome,” you mumble. You take a deep breath before biting the bullet and yanking on one sock and then the other, lips pursed in thinly veiled disgust. Before you can reach for the shoe, Matt’s placing it gently into your hand. You whisper your thanks as you bend back down to slip it on and tie the laces.

Once the shoes are secured on your feet, toes cramped together in a space that is just slightly too small, you stand up. Matt turns his body so that he’s fully facing Bill, lips pressed into a frown that is nothing short of grief-stricken. Blood has seeped out around him slowly, the color vibrant in shade but dull in purpose. Matt slowly lowers his head before crossing up and down, left and right, hand shaking as it does so. Without a word, he motions for you to exit the room, walking closely behind.

The heat of outside feels overwhelming as you step back on to the street, the smell of smoke and dust laying around the city and encasing it in a haze. The warm air sticks to the sweat on your skin, even while your bones seem colder with every step, a shiver racking its way up your spine as you struggle to put the past ten minutes into a corner of your mind that you’ll work through later, once you have time to scream and rage and sob out all of the horror you’ve seen today.

Matt immediately takes off, crossing back across the street and continuing the journey north, and you swallow swiftly after him, feet still in pain from the shoes that are slightly too small and the blisters that had been rubbed raw, but your ability to move quickly has increased, the pesky heel of a shoe no longer holding you back and making you unsteady with every step. He walks in front of you, no longer extremely concerned about the thought of you losing your balance, though his movements still offer you a path through the rubble and debris littering the sidewalk.

He pauses occasionally, tilting his head this way and that as if listening for something far off in the distance, before continuing on, his pace quick and almost grueling. You don’t take it personally that he’s put a small bit of distance between the two of you; you simply take it as Matt trying to get far away from Fogwell’s as quickly as possible, and you certainly don’t blame him.

The city remains in a constant state of chaos, sirens and explosions and the firing of guns and otherworldly weapons assaulting your ears relentlessly. You can’t imagine how the sound must be hurting Matt’s ears, and every fraction of a wince you’ve seen on his face since you pulled him into the bookstore suddenly makes more sense, now knowing the sharp level of his hearing.

You’ve barely reached the top of the second block, Matt perhaps a few yards ahead of you, when another explosion roars just yards behind you, and the blast that echoes is deafening in your head and over your skin. There’s a rumbling behind you, the force increasing in speed, and you're only given a split second to realize what’s happening before you're knocked off your feet and crashing to the ground.

Distantly, you hear Matt screaming your name as you fall, and the only thought you have is to cradle your head in your hands, attempting to provide an awful imitation of a helmet to keep your skull from landing on the concrete. As it is, you land with a devastating smack, your body sliding over cement, glass and rocks cutting through your blouse and digging into your skin. One of your forearms, in particular, takes the brunt of the landing, and you know without seeing that it’ll look like a horrible case of road rash, skin torn and red and bleeding.

The cry you let out is loud and completely involuntary, shredded with a pain you don’t think you’ve ever felt before.

Matt, who had already been around the corner and escaped the force of the blast that had knocked you from behind, is already at your side before you can reorient yourself, hands tightly grasping your forearms and hauling you back to your feet, no time to waste should something be heading your way. His hands are gentle even while the muscle behind his movements are rough, and you can’t help the loud groan that slips through your lips.

His face hovers in front of yours, mouth parted in shock and fear as he speaks, words rushed as he pushes a hand into your hair and tilts your head up so that you’re staring straight up at him. The blast is still ringing in your ears, so you aren’t able to hear more than a few words of what he's saying, though you pick up on enough to know he's asking if you're okay. A cold shiver slides down your back, one that has you standing stiff in horror as your mind speeds up and you succeed in dragging yourself back inside your head. But the more you look up at him, his hand hovering over your cheek as the sound of his voice slowly comes back, the more you realize something is off, something is wrong.

It’s just–

You can’t really….see him.

Eyes widen drastically as they leave his face, flitting across the city block that had been, just seconds early, a clear image to you, despite the layer of dusk and smoke that spreads through the New York City streets. Your head shifts this way and that, trying to find one thing, just one thing, that’s not fuzzy, and it’s with sheer terror that you finally understand that you can't really see anything. Nothing but blobs and blurs and faint splashes of color here and there. It’s not the haze of a possible head injury, or the loss of focus as eyes grow tired with exhaustion, it’s…worse.

Lifting your hands to your face, your fingertips land on your nose, and with a fresh wave of sheer dread you realize your glasses have disappeared from your face. A gasp rips itself from your mouth, and before you can think about it, you’re dropping back to the ground onto your hands and knees, literally crawling on broken glass as you search for your glasses. Your entire body aches with the movement, new scrapes and cuts and bruises hissing at you, but you’re somehow able to ignore it with your frantic search.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice rushed and loud, trying to compensate for the way his voice is threatening to be washed out by booming sounds resonating through the streets of Manhattan. “What–what’s going on?”

“I can’t see,” you whisper with a panicked gasp, barely noticing the new slice on your pointer finger as you feel around the concrete. “I can’t see.”

Matt’s voice is as sharp as the glass that’s digging into your knees as he asks, “What?”

Your head whips up towards him, noticing that he’s moved to a crouch directly to your left, his head not too far from yours. “My glasses…they’re gone. I–I don’t know where they are. I can’t see.”

Biting back the tears that are threatening to fall, you continue feeling the ground around you, body turning so that you’re facing the opposite direction. You feel a second panic attack building, but you brutally shove it back down, knowing that now is not the time to flip out, despite the anxiety that fills your system relentlessly.

Your hands continue feeling around on the ground, and without thought, you crawl over to where you think you had landed. With growing frustration and dread, you fail to find them, distorted objects swimming in and out of your vision. You can’t…your eyes can’t focus on anything. Not without your glasses.

Before you can crawl another foot, a hand settles on to your back, causing you to immediately lift your head sharply. Matt has made his way to your side again, his form kneeling next to you, his face the only thing that seems partially clear to you, as close as it is.

“We need to keep moving,” he says quietly, though his voice is no less urgent than what it’s been since you entered the bookstore, already in hyperdrive as he struggled to put a plan together.

“But…I can’t find them,” you tell him, voice exceedingly vulnerable as your fear spikes again, claws shredding your skin as it fights to get out. It matches the way your entire body throbs with every hit and hurt you’ve taken today. “I still can’t find them.”

“You’re not going to find them, not where there’s already so much glass and debris everywhere.” His voice is incredibly gentle as he pushes a lock of hair behind your ear. “Even I can’t—” He cuts himself off before he finishes the statement, and you might have questioned him further about what he meant, but you are too preoccupied to try and guess.

“Matt,” you start, hating the desperation that has started seeping into your voice as you struggle to take a deep breath. “I…I can’t see further than a few feet ahead of me. I can barely see your face.”

His face is all too knowing, and it doesn't take a genius to quickly remember that he's perfectly, uniquely aware of the struggle you're currently facing. You briefly feel ashamed, knowing your trouble with your vision can be solved by finding your glasses, whereas his is a permanent loss. “We can't stay here, we need to leave."

Terror is still flaring. “But how are we supposed–”

His jaw tightens, determination flashing across his face. “Let me handle that, okay?” Matt stands abruptly, his hand shooting out in front of your face, no doubt meant for you to grasp. When you hesitate to take his hand, eyes still wildly searching the ground for the blue frames of your glasses, Matt murmurs your name, trying to draw your attention back to him.

“Take my hand, sweetheart,” he says quietly, the words quiet but somehow the clearest thing you’ve heard all day. Your bottom lip trembles, giving in and ending your search with a mournful sigh, before you slide your hand into his. He effortlessly pulls you to a standing position by his side, though you stumble briefly as the new cuts in the left side of your body cause you to almost hunch over.

“I still don’t understand though,” you say as you slowly right yourself, shakily brushing the glass off of your pants and ignoring the sting on your knee. “What are we supposed to do? I don't–"

All at once, Matt's hand is lifting towards his face and pulling his glasses away, pocketing them. Beautiful dark eyes sit in a face covered in dirt and small cuts from glass, and he's just close enough that you can pick up small flecks of green. You’re not able to look away, not able to miss a single second of the eyes that have been covered by black lenses since you first saw his face, a barrier now lifted between the two of you..

"I know this is scary," he says, eyes flitting over your face blindly. "Believe me, I know. But I have lived without my sight for almost twenty years and I can navigate Hell's Kitchen like the back of my hand without it. You’ve seen me today, seen the way I move. I promise I know where we’re going and I promise I’ll get us there."

You trust this man with your whole life, and you know without a doubt that he’s more than capable of doing what he says he can. But it doesn’t stop the way you shudder in fear, your lack of focused sight yet another piece of you becoming far too vulnerable on this particular, horrific Wednesday.

How things have changed since you met him, offering guidance to a blind man in concern for his own vulnerability, only for him to now be the one offering a sense of safety.

“Don’t let go of my hand,” you finally say, voice wobbling slightly on a whimper. You take another deep breath and square your shoulders, face lifting to look at him directly. “Or I’ll find a way to kick your ass when this is all over.”

Matt lets out a loud bark of laughter despite the situation, shaking his head. “Noted and terms accepted.”

It takes a few minutes and another block and a half for you to realize that his face, while a little blurred, is still open and clear and beautiful, dark eyes shifting left and right as he pulls you along, black lenses on thin silver frames intentionally left in the pocket of his suit jacket.

For you, he’d chosen to keep them off.

#Matt Murdock #Daredevil #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x reader #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #Battle of New York #tw: death

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doctor-mccoys-sanity · 6 months

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I keep seeing posts saying something along the lines of “B-15’s timeline is 2012 in New York how didn’t she recognise Loki?” um because it could be before May 2012 when the attack has happened??

#loki #loki season two #loki s2 #loki series #loki show #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #hunter b15 #b 15 #battle of new york #the avengers #avengers 2012 #2012 #marvel #mcu

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justrandomfanfictionskh · 8 months

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Technically it's the 2nd Battle of New York

(Just a fun one shot, for all the Percy Jackson fans out there. This is going to be the first story, for a series I'm doing called the Percy Jackson Multiverse! Just a bunch of random crossover stories that I'm doing in prep for the show. Let me know if you want a specific crossover and I'll try to get around to it!)

Percy laughed as one of his subordinates, Mike slipped on the sea spray and landed hard on his but in the middle of the deck. Mike was their newest crew member, just barely a full fledged seaman, and so naturally every little mistake he made was met with never ending teasing and hazing from every other crew member on their little Recuse and Response Boat. But there was nothing cruel about it, just some light hearted joshing for a light heart day. As proven when the Chief Petty Officer stepped forward to help the young man up, with an amused smile and a kind word before ordering everyone back to the stations.

Following the order with a smile Percy turned back to checking the rescue lines, and watching the view. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of this. The glistening green waves of the bay. The sea salt breeze in his face. The music of a lively harbor. And the grandeur of the New York City skyline as seen from the sea. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and all Percy could have ever hoped for. Especially on days like today, when the weather was fair and there were no missions planned. They simply patrolled the harbor, laughing in the sun, and appreciating the view, until it was time to head in.

It was the perfect job for him! He got to spend all day on the water, where no monsters would dare touch him. He got to help people, and no one cared that he had barely finished high school. He was stationed in New York, which meant he was easily accessible for any of his friends that might need help. And, aside from the odd night shift, he got to go home to Annabeth every evening and wake up with her every morning.

Yep, life was pretty good for First Petty Officer Percy Jackson. And since he had finally extracted a promise from the gods to leave him alone! The Hero of Olympus was happy to say that he was blissfully retired from questing, and ready to live the rest of his life in peace. So naturally everything just had to go horribly wrong, because of course the fates hated him. And it happened as he was talking to his Chief as they looked over the harbor.

“Have you ever thought of rescue diving Jackson?” the Chief said simply. “It’s hard and dangerous for sure. But it’s better pay and more benefits. Plus you get to travel around, see the world. Seems like something you might enjoy. I mean, you’re like a shark in the water.”

Percy shrugged. He’d considered it of course, but that’s not what he wanted right now and he said as much. “All I want, Chief, is a steady paycheck and to go home to my girl at the end of the day. I’ve seen as much of the world as I care to, right now I just want some peace.”

The Chief barked a laugh, “Peace? Boy, you're Twenty years old! You can’t even drink yet! You’re too young to be thinking of ‘peace!’ Besides, this job isn’t exactly low stress, so maybe you should consider reexamining your priorities.”

Percy chuckled and shook his head. “I’m happy right where I am,” he said simply as he leaned against the ship's railing, the gentle sea spray brushing his face like a gift from his father. “If that changes, we can talk. But I’ve got a wedding to plan, and a fiancé keep happy. And right now, that means staying in the city for as long as possible without getting into any more trouble.”

The Chief chuckled and nodded, turning back to the bridge. “Fair enough, just remember, that at the rate you're being promoted you're likely to find yourself pigeon holed into a desk job before long. Unless you're trying to make Admiral before you're fifty?”

Percy smiled slyly and said, “Actually I was thinking forty, but who cares, I’m not in a rush.”

They both laughed, and would have continued their good natured discussion of Percy’s future, if at that moment, the world hadn’t changed forever. One minute the sky was as clear as it could be, and then a noise like thunder echoed over the city and across the bay. Every eye was drawn to the skyline, and the swirling patch of space that hung ominously above Stark Tower.

“Holy shit,” the Chief muttered in awe, and Percy spun to look at him. He and every other member of the crew were staring up at the portal in awe and terror. And Percy cursed in Greek. The mist wasn’t hiding this. Every single mortal that Percy could see was staring up at the sky in wonder, obviously seeing the portal (because what else could it be) for exactly what it was.

“So,” he thought bitterly, “ Either the gods have messed up big time, or this isn’t them.” But Percy wasn’t putting his money on this being anything, but a major godly screw up. That was until the giant space mosasaurus flew out of the portal with a reverberating cry, and began to descend on the city. From where their boat was idling, Percy could barely see the thousands of specks flying around the giant space, dinno shark like flies, and then he cursed again. He had just lost his bet with himself, because while Percy Jackson was not always the brightest tool in the shed, he knew his world. And this monster and its swarming army, was not of his world.

“Sir,” Percy said firmly, jolting his Chief out of his reverie. “We need to move, I believe we are being invaded.”

The Chief Petty Officer snapped to attention, nodded once to Percy in thanks and then immediately began barking orders. There was a battle in the city and thousands of civilian boats in the harbor and bay, and they would need to be escorted to safety or rescued from the debris. Their peaceful day had just become a lot more stressful, but they were the Coast Guard. This was their job, and they would do it.

Percy sent a quick prayer to Poseidon and Hestia, two of the few gods who actually liked him, that they would keep his family safe. He then sent a prayer to Athena, Nike, and (after grimacing) Ares to give humanity a chance at victory. He hesitated for only a second as he saw the bright red speck that he assumed was Iron Man, fly up to challenge the leviathan. But he shook his head and focused on his crew.

It looked like most of this battle would take place in the air, where he was less than useless. And unless the Fates themselves showed up and demanded that he take part, he was going to stay where he was most useful, and help as many people as he could. It grated against every protective and battle instinct he had. He wanted to run to his family, to Annabeth. He needed to know they were ok, and safe. He wanted to find the idiot responsible for this and punch them in the teeth. They had ruined a perfectly good day! And all of his training was demanding that he jump into the water, and take charge of the battle.

But he did none of those things. He had a job to do and he would do it. He had to trust Annabeth to protect his family. He had to trust Iron Man and whatever forces he had in stock, to deal with the aliens. He had to trust, and if he saw a chance to kick some alien butt along the way? Well, none of his crew would blame him.

Annabeth stuffed as many people into the boiler room beneath their apartment building as she could. She met Sally Jackson’s eyes as her husband Paul hugged little Estelle tightly to his chest. A soft determination came over Sally’s face and she nodded to Annabeth, silently telling her to go. The greatest mother the world had ever known, turned to the frightened, noisy, crowd and began to take command. Annabeth didn’t wait for Sally to get things under control. Instead she ran up the stairs, taking three at a time before returning to her and Percy’s apartment, and slamming open the door. She didn’t even hesitate as she ran for where her Drakon Bone Sword was on display in their living room before throwing on the spare breastplate, grieves, and helmet they kept in the closet.

She only briefly paused to consider taking her Yankees cap before caving, and stuffing it into her back pocket. She then threw herself down the fire escape, and rolled out into the chaos that was now midtown Manhattan. However, the panicked masses parted for her easily. They understood the significance of a person running the wrong way, and dared not to hinder a person going toward the danger. The only road block she might have faced were the panicked policemen struggling to put up a barrier in a desperate attempt to contain the chaos. But they were all too focused on the literal aliens, falling from the sky to notice the young college woman with a deadly weapon running past them and into the battle.

The aliens, however, had no such blindness. The beasts saw Annabeth easily, and charged her. The daughter of Athena gritted her teeth, and lifted her sword. She silently cursed herself, for running blindly into a fight without a plan and prepared to fight for her life. She didn’t even know if these creatures would be affected by Drakon bone! Or if they had special powers, or weaknesses. What if they were like hydras and could regenerate? It was such a Percy thing to do, that her scowl turned into a grin, and she bared her teeth like a wolf about to rip out their throats. She began to dance with her sword, something she had been training to do since she was seven.

Her grin turned manic, as the alien monsters attacked brainlessly and fell easily. The sword she had claimed from the depths of Tartarus cut through them like butter, and their armor was like match wood beneath her strikes. She quickly evaluated them as she fought, and realized a few things immediately. First of all, these “soldiers” only had the most basic level of combat, and relied completely on their superior weapons and numbers. Second, they were clearly some type of hive mind, since their insensible growls and screams had no semblance of language, but they were far too coordinated to not be communicating. And third, there were too many of them.

They fell before Annabeth like wheat before the scythe, but like the waves of the ocean, there was always another one to take its place. So while these creatures were nothing compared to the monsters she was used to fighting on a daily basis, she knew that eventually they would wear down her stamina and kill her without a second thought. And that was perhaps the most concerning fact. These creatures showed no fear. She cut them down without thought or hesitation by the dozens, without taking a single scratch, but none of them even hesitated to challenge her again, and again, and again. Even monsters had more sense than that, which only confirmed her brainless hive mind theory.

She needed a plan, but for it to work she needed to know who their allies were, where Percy was, and what government organizations were mobilizing to help clean up this mess. That morning, Percy said that he would be patrolling the bay until five, and she assumed that his crew would need him to help rescue civilians and get them off the island. So she decided to cut her way to the Empire State Building, and see what godly intervention she could scrounge up. And they couldn’t say no. They owed her.

Annabeth pulled up short as a great roar echoed through the streets causing some of the windows to shiver. That was not the sound of the alien’s living ships, so it was either a magic beast, or a third party. Annabeth picked up her pace, until she saw the great green form of the Hulk jumping from building to building and smashing every alien he could get his hands on. “ Well,” she thought grimly, “ That explains the roar. ”

Annabeth skidded to a halt and cursed right as she got to the overpass in front of Grand Central Station. A squad of fifty aliens, ten of which were on those strange speeders, had seen her and begun to charge. Needing the high ground, Annabeth scrambled up the bridge support faster than she’d ever climbed the wall at camp. Of course the fact that the bridge wasn’t shaking, or spewing lava definitely helped her speed. She vaulted the barrier, and fell into a battle stance as the aliens tried to follow her.

The good news, the squad of fifty was slowed and dispersed by the climb, and she dispatched the speeders, as easily as evil harpies. The bad news was that she was now on an exposed plan, and she could already see two more squads in the distance moving in to flank her. Annabeth scowled, and looked to where she could just barely see the Empire State building peeking out from behind the towers surrounding her. Then her mouth dropped open in shock, because there standing on the spire, was a figure in armor. It was barely distinguishable, but whoever it was, was clearly directing lightning at the portal, stemming the flow of the invaders and giving the forces on the ground a chance to regroup, and organize.

“Zeus?” She whispered in awe. Was the overstuffed drama queen actually helping? And was he actually being smart about it?!

“Thor actually. Watch your back!” A voice called behind her and Annabeth spun to see a woman with fiery red hair, and dressed in black leather, shoot an alien trying to sneak up on her. Annabeth cursed herself (she was doing a lot of that today it would seem) and put her back to the mortal warrior and cleared a space for them between two overturned cars, that they could use as cover.

This gave them a brief respite, where the two women turned to look at each other with an accepting suspicion. They didn’t know each other. They didn’t trust each other. They clearly had a lot of questions for the other. But at that moment, they were on the same disadvantaged side, and therefore needed each other. So Annabeth lowered her sword and held out her hand, “Annabeth Chase.”

“Natasha Romanof,” the woman said without emotion, but still taking Annabeth’s hand. She then gave Annabeth’s armor and weapon a quick once over and then silently groaned, “Don’t tell me the Greek gods are real too.”

“What do you mean?” Annabeth said slowly, careful not to confirm nor deny anything the woman said.

“Well,” Natasha said with a barely perceivable smirk, as she pointed to the figure summoning the lightning, “That is Thor, a Norse god straight out of mythology. So I assume all of the other ancient myths are based on some facts.”

Annabeth allowed her smirk to be easily readable, she had a feeling she was going to like this mortal. But all she said was, “A logical deduction, but hardly proof.”

“You’re trained, with abnormal strength and reflexes based on how easily you cut through the Chitauri. Also that,” Natasha pointed at Annabeth's sword, “Is hardly a common weapon, and you're dressed in ancient armor. In other words, you’re enhanced, with a connection to the ancient world, and assumed Thor was Zeus. So, yes or no, are the Greek gods real, and what is your connection to them?”

Annabeth grinned from ear to ear. She really liked this mortal. She had to be one of her mother’s favorites. Plus she could see through the mist. “Yes,” Annabeth said coolly, “They're real, and they live in the Empire State Building.”

There was only a brief widening of Natasha’s eyes at this revelation and a glance at the famous monument, but otherwise she remained stoic and sharp as Annabeth continued saying, “I am the daughter of Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. No, I’m not a god, my dad is a human mortal. Yes, technically Athena is a sworn virgin. No, I don’t want to explain how I was born. No, I don’t know if they're going to help us. Yes, I do have a plan to end this. Are you willing to listen to me?”

Natasha stood silently for a moment, before she spun to kill a chitauri trying to sneak up on them. She then gave Annabeth another searching look. She seemed satisfied with what she saw, because she nodded, raising her weapons to face down the coming aliens. “Let’s hear it.”

“First,” Annabeth said once more, putting her back to the woman. “Give me the rundown. Who are we fighting? Who are our allies? Do we have support?”

“These buggers,” Natasha yelled over the noise of her guns. “Are the Chitauri. They’re being led by Loki, the Norse god of mischief. He wants to rule the world. On our side we have Captain America, Thor, Hulk, and Iron Man, you know them?”

Annabeth choked as she sliced off a chitauri’s arm. “Captain America is alive!” She then stabbed the alien in the heart. Natasha nodded to her in confirmation, but her eyes brightened in approval at Annabeth’s viciousness. “Ok,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened in her life. “I know the rest, who else?”

“Clint Barton—”

“I know him.”

This time Natasha froze as an alien corpse collapsed in front of her. “How?” Her voice was cold and demanding.

Annabeth noted the woman’s change, and only hesitated to consider Clint’s situation before asking, “Are you in communication?”

Natasha handed Annabeth an earpiece, and showed her how to turn it on. Immediately, unseen strangers were shouting in her ear. But Annabeth ignored them all in favor of the one she hadn’t heard since she was ten years old, begging him not to leave her. “Clint?” she said softly.

Immediately the voices stopped. A voice full of a soldier’s command was the first to speak, “Who are you? How are you on this channel?”

“Clint Barton, Mr. Brunner sends his regards,” Annabeth said, ignoring the questions.

“Holy Hades,” Clint whispered, “Annie? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth said slowly, “I’m here with Natasha Romanof. We’re holding the overpass by Grand Central Station. She knows my truth, and she accepts it.”

“Oh,” Clint said, “Um ok…well…this…isn’t ideal. Do we have to do this now?”

“I have a plan to end this, and I need your team to trust me.”

“I’m sorry,” a voice filled with disbelief and condensation filled the earpiece. “Will someone please explain who this child is? And what Legolas is keeping from us? I thought we were past this, people!”

“Can it Tony,” Clint growled over the comms, and Annabeth heard an explosion in the background. “The only person I trust more than Annabeth is Nat. She has been through more wars than Cap, and she was a leader in all of them. If she has a plan, we shut up and do what she says. And don’t even pretend that you don’t have at least thirty skeletons in the closet that we don’t know about. Annie, I’ll tell Nat everything after this. Just tell us what to do. Also, please tell me your boyfriend’s here! We could use him.”

Annabeth blushed at the complements, but shook the embarrassment away before saying, “He’s with the Coast Guard. Unless one of you goes to get him, he’s going to focus on getting civilians away from the battle. But we don’t need him for this to work. Thor, how conniving is Loki?”

“He is one of the most cunning minds in all of Asgard,” a deep, accented, and formal voice declared. “But please, a moment, Sir. Barton has referred to you as Annabeth. You are not the famous Annabeth Chase by chance?”

Annabeth couldn’t help the swell of pride at being recognized by a deity from a completely different pantheon, and said. “The one and only.”

“I suggest that everyone listens to the Warrior Chase,” Thor declared immediately, “Her skill, and wisdom are legendary across the nine realms and further. And if it is true that the Perseus Jackson is nearby—”

“Wait!” Iron Man interrupted again, “Why is she Warrior Chase, while we’re all sirs and ladies? Who is she? And how old are you? You sound young. That’s not just me right? She sounds young?”

“Focus Tony,” Cap said again. And as he spoke, he joined her and Natasha on the overpass. He narrowed his eyes at her, and at first Annabeth was afraid that he would agree with Tony about insisting on her age. But she didn’t give him time to.

“Listen,” she said and she used the chitauri she was fighting as a shield against the blast of the others, before kicking him into his companions, knocking them down before she decapitated all three of them in one fell swoop. “The chitauri are a hive mind.”

“How do you know that?” Tony demanded.

“Not now Tony,” Natasha, Clint, and Thor all shouted at once.

“We need to separate them from their source,” Annabeth continued without missing a beat. “Loki’s smart, so he’ll keep the source as far from the main battle and his enemies as possible.”

“So, on the other side of the portal,” Clint groaned.

“We’ll never get to that,” Natasha agreed as she took a chitauri’s staff and began to use it against him.

“But Loki’s on this side of the portal, correct?”

“He just hoped on a speeder,” Clint said, the hatred in his voice as plain as clear as his hatred for the gods. “My arrow just blew him up, but I don’t think it did much.”

Annabeth nodded, more pieces of the puzzle fitting into place, as she bisected another alien. “Ok, whatever is keeping that portal open needs to be shut down as quickly as possible. The natural distance could cut off the connection, but if not then it will be easier to contain and beat the army. Then we need to capture Loki, and either kill or contain him.”

“I would rather you didn’t kill my brother.”

“Natasha, Clint,” Annabeth said ignoring the god, as was her want, “One of you needs to get to the gate's power source.” She could hear Iron Man begin to protest but she cut him off saying, “Mr. Stark, you, Captain Rogers, and whoever doesn’t go to that monstrosity of a building—”

“Hey!”

“Needs to continue supporting the police and National Guard in defending the city. Thor, you or Hulk need to deal with Loki. I don’t care if you do or don’t kill him. Just make sure he is no longer commanding his forces. I’m going to go see if I can’t call in some extra firepower to speed things along.”

“It’s a good plan, Tony,” Rogers said as he watched Annabeth leap off an exploding car, grab a speeder by the handle, and twist it is that it and its passengers went careening into the side of a building, before dropping down onto an alien twice her size, and plunging her sword into its chest.

“I just saw Loki, I’ll try to drive him back to the Tower, before heading to the tesseract. Steve, give me a boost.” Natasha said, before using the Captain’s shield as a springboard to take control of a speeder going overhead. Ok, Annabeth really liked this mortal.

“I would follow you to Loki,” Thor said with a grunt, “But I am currently facing three leviathans over the harbor.”

“HULK SMASH!” A voice bellowed over the comms, and that answered Annabeth’s question on whether or not the creature could understand human speech. She smiled, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Captain America flinch at the deadly glee in her eyes.

“Oh, this is going to be fun,” she said.

When the leviathan crashed into the harbor and sent a giant wave crashing over, Percy’s boat, Percy willed the water to not harm the civilians, but allowed the current to sweep him away and into the sea. He felt slightly guilty leaving his crew to think he was drowning in battle, but that was offset by the looks of astonishment that they would surely have when he showed up perfectly fine at the base camp in Brooklyn that the first responders were setting up. Besides he had been with the Chief since he was an Apprentice, he knew that Percy was a “strong swimmer” and would be fine.

He had stayed with his crew for as long as he could, and they had almost completely cleared the water of all of the civilian and commercial craft. Now it was a matter of getting the civilians from one shore to the other. A process that he could expedite by talking to the River Lords to convince them to help the boats. With that done, he began searching for overboard civilians and silently shifting the currents to be in their favor. And if anyone began to drown, then he got a little more hands on with their rescue. By bringing them to an abandoned dock, not too far from the base camp, and pulling the water out of their lungs.

The fish helped as much as they could, but they were terrified of the unfamiliar monsters sinking beneath the waves. However, with the help they were able to give, and the blessing of the sea constantly rejuvenating him and giving him strength, more people were saved than lost. After delivering a boy who didn’t know how to swim to the Brooklyn shore, Percy paused and looked over at the battle. The portal was still open, and the aliens were still coming in droves. However, the National Guard, and Army had just arrived. Skiffs full of marines and seals, were pulling into the bay as fast as their fastest boats could go.

But Percy had an eye for war. He had led armies in two great wars before the age of eighteen. And he could tell that it was going poorly. Even with the reinforcements, the island was about to be overrun. Percy closed his eyes and prayed to every god and pantheon he knew for the people he loved and their safety. Yes, even to Hera and Zeus. He didn’t care. He just needed them safe.

A great roar echoed over the water, as two leviathans turned from between the towers and began to fly over the river straight towards the base camp. People began to scream, and Percy cursed. Enough was enough. He jumped into the river, and torpedoed to the bottom and summoned the Spirit of the East River.

“Help me!” he demanded. And where once the Spirit might have grumbled and complained, now he only bowed to the son of Poseidon, who had walked through Hell, and prepared his currents to whisk the mortals to safety, even as Percy began to summon his strength. And although the land was screaming with the chaos of the battle. Under the waves all was silent, as the River god, and the demigod prepared their power.

Then Percy screamed, and thrust his hands up and above his head. Mimicked by the spirit, the East River surged up and a wall of water formed between the two banks. The water grabbed the leviathans by their jaws and pulled them down and into the bay. The great waves formed by the creatures crashing into the rivers and being crushed by the angry guardians of the city, would have, should have, flooded the banks, destroyed the rescue boats, and drowned every individual in the water. But it didn’t. Every nymph and spirit of the waves and the sea, heard the call of their Prince, and their Lord, and surged to protect the innocents in their waters. When the river returned to normal, the piers of Brooklyn were as silent as the depths as the people stared in wonder at the absolute display of power that protected them. Still it didn’t take long for the Captains of the boats to rally and continue their rescue operations.

Percy smiled as he watched the beasts and all of the creatures within them sink into the harbor, before swimming to the center of the bay. The Spirits of the Hudson and the East joined him, and prepared to repeat the feat should any more monsters attempt to leave the island.

Thor choked on air as the river calmed as if nothing had ever stirred them. Had…had a mortal demigod, just done that? He knew that the young hero had power but that…that was the feat of a god!

“Ahem, Warrior Chase,” Thor coughed into his primitive com device.

“Yes, Thor,” the Daughter of Athena said casually.

“I believe, your beloved has joined the battle…he just drowned two leviathans with the help of the river.”

The sounds of astonishment echoing through the comms was enough to soothe Thor’s own ego, before flying off, but the Warrior Chase only chuckled softly and said, “That’s my Seaweed Brain. How are we doing on Loki and the portal?”

“Puny god,” Hulk’s gruff voice grumbled, drawing a laugh and chuckle from the rest of the team.

“Guys,” the Black Widow called, “I’m at the tesseract. I can close it.”

“Do it!” The Captain shouted.

“Hold up guys,” Tony called, “I got a nuclear warhead coming our way. And I know just where to put it.”

The Warrior Chase cursed so colorfully in Ancient Greek it made Thor blush, before she demanded in a tone that brokered no argument, “What idiot fires a nuke at their own city?!”

…

Annabeth watched the SHIELD Agents swarming Stark Tower and carting off every piece of alien tech and biology that they could get their hands on. Many times, the gruff looking men with guns and the shifty little men in lab coats tried to approach her, but she just gave them the Wolf Stare that Percy had taught her, and even the largest of them did a one-eighty to avoid her gaze.

“Hey.” Annabeth turned to see Barton watching her with a mix of pain and sympathy. She fixed him with the stare, but when he did no more than grimace, she sighed and turned away. Taking that as the vague acceptance that it was, Barton leaned against the wall beside her and watched the rest of the “Avengers" and Agents begin to transport Loki out of the Tower. “I’m sorry,” Barton finally whispered, “If I had known that the prophecy was coming—”

“How did you learn about them?” Annabeth interrupted, refusing to soften her voice. She was furious with him. Had been for years, and he was not getting out of this. Barton just sighed and said,

“Will showed up a few weeks after the Second Giant War,” he said softly. “He needed a place to grieve, and he didn’t think he could do that properly at camp, because—”

“Because at camp,” Annabeth finished finally softening with her own grief, “He is a leader, a healer, and needs to be strong for the others, so that they could heal.”

Barton nodded solemnly. “Gods,” he muttered, “I never wanted to see any of my siblings like that. Crumbling under the weight of two wars. That shouldn’t have happened, to any of you, you're just kids.”

“I haven’t been a kid since I was seven years old,” Annabeth said simply, without condemnation or bitterness, just a simple statement of fact that no one could deny.

Barton nodded gravely and said again, “I’m sorry. I never should have left. I just…I was just so angry with the gods, with Chiron. He did his best, but…it wasn’t enough. They weren’t enough. Their empty platitudes and false promises. I couldn’t take it any more. I had to leave before I snapped.”

Annabeth nodded, “I know. And…I understand…I didn’t then, but…I do now. And I’m sorry to, I should have searched you out a long time ago.”

Barton didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around the young woman. They didn’t cry, or sob, or laugh. They just silently held each other in grim understanding of their world and their place in it. The play things of gods, of parents, who barely knew how to care much less love the mortals they had sired. Finally, Barton pulled away and said with a soft smile, “Hey, we’re all going to get shawarma. Care to join us? And Percy of course! I find I’m suddenly really nostalgic for camp, and I would love to hear how everyone is doing.”

Annabeth nodded and cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said, “That sounds great.”

“So, Barton is the son of the sun?” Tony said rubbing his temples in a vain attempt to ward off a headache, “The Sun’s Son if you will?”

Barton rolled his eyes lazily and said, “Yes, Stark I’m the Sun’s Son. Sorry I couldn’t tell you, but you wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Happy?”

“No,” Stark said weakly, and dropped his head into his hands.

A chuckle drew Natasha’s gaze back to the two other demigods and Thor chowing down on their shawarma as if they would never eat again. They were completely unfazed by the fact that they were surrounded by gods and legends, after having faced an army beyond their imaginations. But if half of what Clint, Thor, and these kids had said was true…then this was just another Tuesday for the young adults in front of them. Still, Natasha believed them. The weight of command surrounding the girl. The aura of power circling the boy. The hidden under currents of grief and horrors lurking behind their eyes. These were kids who had seen the worst of the world and had conquered it. And still, every time Natasha looked at them, Annabeth in her dirty armor, and Percy in his tattered Coast guard uniform, she couldn’t help but think, “ They’re too young for this life. ”

Steve seemed to think the same, because he leaned forward and said, “So how old were you during your first war?”

“Fifteen, actually turned sixteen during the final battle!” Percy said around his shawarma, “Unless you're asking about how old we were when we first started training. In which case, I came to camp at twelve, and Annabeth when she was seven.”

“But,” Annabeth said after whipping her mouth, “Percy faced his first monster at…three?”

“Snakes in the crib,” Percy agreed. “Freaked my mom out. Not that I can remember it of course.”

“Spiders in my sleep,” Annabeth shivered, “I was six.”

Barton shook his head in commiseration, “Yeah, I was lucky. Harpy when I was ten. That’s when I went to camp too.”

“Are…are you ok?” Banner asked softly looking between the three of them with utter pain in his eyes.

“Oh you know,” Percy said, finally swallowing his food, “Aside from the anxiety, paranoia, PTSD, and occasional death quest because the gods still won’t leave me alone! We’re just peachy!”

Everyone except Thor and Clint stared at them in horror, but Annabeth just waved their concern aside saying, “Look this is just the life of a half-blood. It sucks. But we deal with it. And believe it or not, it’s actually getting better.”

Percy nodded emphatically, and pointed at Clint with his fork saying, “You really need to come back to camp. So much has changed. No one’s unclaimed any more. There's cabins for the minor gods. Annabeth designed this awesome temple that’s going to represent literally every single known Greek god. It’s absolutely beautiful. They started building it last month, and it’s already looking incredible!”

“Percy!” Annabeth hissed as she tried to hide her blush, but her boyfriend just kept going.

“Oh! And we’ve expanded the border, and we’ve started building housing for adult demigods who want to live in safety. They commute to the city and other mortal towns in Long Island for school and work. It’s not perfect. But it’s the first step in building a place where demigods can actually live their lives in peace from birth to grave.”

The look of pure joy on Barton’s face was so bright it was almost blinding, and Natasha had no problem believing that he was a son of Apollo. “That’s wonderful! What started that?”

“Oh, the Roman demigods have had their own city for generations,” Annabeth said dismissively, “It sounded like a good idea. So we convinced the gods to expand the border and provide the materials for all of the building projects as a reward for defeating Gaia. They call theirs New Rome. So we were thinking of calling our city, New Athens, or New Sparta, or something like that.”

Clint laughed saying, “Let me guess, cabins five and six can’t agree on which one?”

“They won’t stop arguing!” Percy groaned as he drew his hand over his face. “Capture the Flag has become an all out war trying to decide!” Clint burst into laughter, as Natasha turned her questioning gaze to Annabeth.

“The children of Ares and Athena,” Annabeth explained with a slight smile.

“You all do realize there were more Ancient Greek cities than Athens and Sparta right?” Bruce said slowly.

“Wait!” Tony cried, waving his hand wildly, “Go back. Roman demigods?! Just how many pantheons are there?!”

Percy and Annabeth shared a look that sent a pit of dread into Natasha’s stomach, and Tony’s head thumped onto the table in defeat.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo hoo toa #percabeth #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #avengers #battle of new york #black widow #percy jackson x marvel

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thornbushrose · 11 months

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MCU timeline reference points

I just wanted to post this well-documented timeline of the MCU, which puts the Battle of New York in 2012 and Daredevil S1 in late 2014 or early 2015.

For fanfiction reference, here are some relevant timeline points:

2012 -- Battle of New York

2014 -- Daredevil Season 1

2015 -- Spider-Man gets his powers

2016 -- Captain America: Civil War, which is significant if you're writing about the Sokovia Accords or Spider-Man. Also, Dr. Strange leaves for Cathmandu in May or August.

2017 -- Jessica Jones, Season 2, because it references the Raft. I do not know how S3 interacts with the Blip.

2018 -- Infinity war: The Blip begins

2023 -- Endgame: The Blip ends

2025-- Sokovia Accords are repealed by now, but no details on exactly when or why or how. Also She-Hulk series occurs.

The timeline in the fan wiki doesn't address the later Spider-Man movies (and I haven't seen them) but obviously they happen after the Blip. Feel free to reblog with your own additions.

#daredevil #daredevil fan fiction #mcu #timeline #spider-man #dr. strange #avengers #Battle of New York #the blip

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rebl-ious-artist · 2 years

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The mightiest Avengers.

Check out Cap and Tony, or Nat and Clint.

Also check out my Instagram!

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hedwig394 · 1 year

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A sad fanfic

Tony Stark x Fem reader

Timeline : after the battle of New York, somewhere before Iron Man 3

I was about to sleep beside him, he had had a nice dinner and was actually intent on going to sleep.

I was happy, seeing Tony so relaxed calmed my nerves. He was so stressed nowadays, and sometimes he'd break down and cry, it broke my heart. The battle of New York had not taken a good toll on him, and I was going increasingly worried about his health.

Whenever I asked him why he was overworking himself, he would simply say, "I'm only trying to make sure you're safe and protected, honey."

And by overwork, I meant overwork. Even for him, who was used to working extra. Pepper, who was the CEO, was also concerned about him. But she had told me, that if anyone could save him, it was me.

But I didn't know how.

I fell asleep beside a snoozing Tony but was woken in the middle of the night by his scream.

I woke up with a shock, not sure whether the scream was in my dream or reality. But after I saw a shaking Tony beside me, I knew that it was real. I took a deep breath and hugged him.

He was tossing and shaking, not fully awake, nor fully asleep. I hated when he had to go through that. He couldn't fall back asleep nor could he be released from his nightmare.

"Tony," I whispered softly, shaking him softly. "Tony, it's okay."

He groaned in his sleep, and his face constricted. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead.

"Tony it's not real!" I said desperately, the only thing which could help him.

He screamed again.

"Tony!" I shouted loudly. He opened his eyes and was breathing loudly. "Oh Tony," I tried my best not to cry and hugged him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered, tears pooling down his eyes. He never cried in front of anyone, only me. Humour was his way of hiding his weaknesses, and he was vulnerable only in front of me. It was something which made me wanna comfort him even more.

"Don't apologise, love." I whispered softly. "It's okay, I am here. I am here for you."

He sat up straight and I handed him a glass of water. As he was drinking, I said nothing, just waited patiently. Sometimes it's not words which is important, the silence also matters. A lot.

"I should've been better. I should've done better. If I was better, then many more lives would've been saved." He sighed.

"Tony, you did your best. There's nothing more you could've done. Even the rest of the Avengers agree." I said softly, holding his hand.

"I know, but I should've-" he rubbed his hand over his face. "That wormhole. It felt like....I'll never forget what it felt like."

I squeezed his hand.

"I felt like I was drowning in a pool of darkness, a pool I'd never get out of. It was scary." He said and closed his eyes.

"Tony," I said, "It's okay. It's over. You're safe. And I am here with you."

"I often think about how I would feel if that darkness swallowed you." He admitted, tears forming in his eyes but he blinked them away. "It would kill me. It would kill me if anything happens to you."

"Nothing is gonna happen to me." I said, stroking his hair, "I am here with you. There's no safer place for me. I know that you are worried, but don't push yourself over the limit. I need you healthy and alive, Tony. Only then I can truly be happy."

"Come here." He said and I lay down on his chest. He took a deep breath. "I was gonna say thanks but you would kill me if I do that, so I'm gonna stick to an 'I love you."

I laughed.

"I love you, sweetheart." He kissed my head, and I replied, "I love you too, metal man."

"Iron man is cooler." He insisted.

"That's why I don't call you that." I laughed and so did he.

#iron man #iron man 3 #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fluff #tony stark fic #fanfiction #fanfic #battle of new york #battle #nightmare #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #mcu #tony stark x reader

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avengers-assemble-fics · 1 year

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Among the Rubble | Steve x chubby!Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x chubby!reader Warnings: blood, scared children, violence, injured reader Summary: The Battle of New York started unexpectedly, especially for (y/n)'s elementary school class. The day was normal, then suddenly, you are tasked with getting 20 five-year-olds to safety with the Chitari attack sending bombs and debris falling everywhere. Good thing Captain America emerges from the rubble to help them get to safety. Word Count: 5.3K Author’s Note: I suck at summaries so hopefully that makes sense. This fic is not beta read, so I'm sure there are probably some grammatical errors and discrepancies I'm too lazy to find right now. I hope you enjoy it none-the-less!

Numerous tables with four chairs tucked beneath, all resting on a purple rug over the dingy gray carpet, each chair filled with elementary school students, all coloring in words on their papers that corresponded to the letter of the alphabet you were currently talking about, W. You knelt by the desk of a sweet but often confused girl, smiling kindly as you pointed to the word “whale” and explained why she should color it as well. She laughed at herself and began curling the Orca whale pink, shooting a warning glance to two boys whispering at the back table, both of who immediately quieted and continued coloring their W words.

The entire room was mostly silent with the exception of your voice answering questions, the students coloring or changing out crayons, your laptop playing a quiet violin rendition of popular cartoon theme songs, and of course, the busy noise of the outside world as New York City carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life, something you’d learned to ignore, for the most part. You walked over to the window in the corner of the room to glance at the street below once you were satisfied each student was coloring in their last W word. Outside, it was busy, as usual, and you didn’t think you’d ever fully get accustomed to so many people walking on the sidewalks right outside the school. You’d only been in the city for about a year, and there was still so much to learn, especially as you didn’t get out very much. However, you knew enough about the city and its culture to know that the dozens of people running down the sidewalk in the same direction was not a normal thing.

Shrugging and turning away from the window, you clicked the button in your hand to flip to the next slide word, X, when suddenly, the power in the room went out and the only thing lighting the darkness was the window you’d just been looking out not a moment later. Naturally, the students began getting anxious. Trying to keep them calm, you walked back over to your desk, bumping your hip on a table as you passed, but trying to ignore the pain as you wrenched open the desk drawer, fumbling blindly through the contents until your hand enclosed around what you were looking for. You pulled it from the contents of your desk and clicked the push button on the bottom, immediately the device lighting up.

Gasps filled the room, and this time, they weren’t of fear.

“Captain America!” small voices cheered and you sighed in relief.

The battery-powered Captain America lamp had been expensive and very much an impulse buy you’d regretted almost immediately after you’d bought it, but your students loved it and while you didn’t get “Captain America” out very often (because it was too much of a distraction), it certainly came in handy today.

“Listen up everyone, we’re all going to very slowly get out of our seats and walk over to the reading mat. Sit criss-cross apple sauce and I’ll tell you guys a story while we wait for the power to come back on,” you spoke in a soothing voice.

Lit by the luminescent “Captain America” lamp, the 26 students each got up from their seats, most remembering to tuck their seat back under the table before cautiously making their way to the large circular rug with a reading elephant stitched in the fabric. They dropped down to sit on the rug, all crossing their legs as they were told and eagerly waiting for your story. While they were waiting, you grabbed your phone from your desk, checking for any emails from the school principal. Finding none, you assumed the outage was a temporary fluke, nothing to worry about. You walked over to where the students were seated and placed the Captain America lamp up on the bookshelf where they each could see it but no one could touch it (his leg could only be reglued back on so many times, afterall). I dropped into the white rocking chair I typically sat in during story time.

“Alright, once upon a time, there was two raccoons hanging out in their small house up in the largest tree in the forest. Millie Raccoon was relaxing on the couch while Marvin Raccoon was reading a book at the table. Next door, the Squirrels were making a lot of noise opening their acorns for the winter. Marvin Raccoon paused his reading every time Slyvester or Susan Squirrel-”

Your story was cut off suddenly by the sound of glass shattering an odd, beeping metal ball crashed through the window. Immediately, shrieks and squeals erupted from the kids, many of them jumping up and running to the rocking chair.

“It’s alright, shhh,” you soothed softly, petting their backs and getting up from their chair to investigate the weird object.

It had rolled under one of the desks and was now beeping louder and more rapidly, a red light blinking on the top. It didn’t look like anything you’d ever seen, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the beeping grew even louder and more constant.

Urgently, you walked back to the students, trying to keep your pace leveled and mask the panic on your face.

“Alright everyone, it has come time for us to leave. Beth,” you called the little red headed girls attention and she stepped closer, her knees shaking. They knew something was going on. You took the Captain America lamp off the bookshelf and handed it to her. “Hold onto him as we go outside, ok?”

She nodded, taking the lamp from your hands and holding it close. You hoped the lamp would help ease their fear, but you didn’t have much more time to think about that as the beeping was nearly deafening now.

“We’re going for an early recess, lets head to the stairwell!” you said, attempting to make your voice as excited as it usually was.

No one cheered like they usually did.

Beth with the lamp led the way to the door, you stepped in front of the table with the device under to shield them from it if it went off while they were walking out. Maisy, Beth’s best friend, opened the classroom door and the line of five year olds trickled out quickly, headed for the stairwell that led down to the playground. It seemed the only other class upstairs had the same idea and was taking their students down ahead of yours. Mrs. Turner, an older more seasoned teacher shot you a confused look that you returned with one of panic as you caught up with your students.

“What’s-” Mrs. Turner didn’t have time to answer before a loud boom resonated from your room, sending a hard shockway through the floor and immediately catching student artwork outside your door on fire. The shockwave knocked several students off their feet, some falling down a few steps and their cries made your heart clench.

“Something’s going on, and it isn’t good,” was all you could say to a now alarmed Mrs. Turner as you raced down the steps to pick up any fallen student and usher them quickly outside. They didn’t fight you as you herded them out the door.

Your hopes that outside the building would be safer for the students was quickly dashed across the rocks as you saw chaos and suddenly, the running citizens down the street made sense as building tumbled over, others on fire, loud blasts of guns and bombs all over the place.

“Ms. (y/n)!” several teary-eyed students shouted fearfully, most of them clumped together, huddling for support.

This wasn’t a part of your training. None of this was something you ever thought was going to happen, but as you watched the wreckage unfold from all sides, you knew it was your job and duty to protect the kids at all cost. And you would lay down your life for theirs. Anyday.

“Everyone, head to edge of the building,” I said as calmly as possible as the building next door blew up in flames as some weird alien thing zipping through the air flew away.

Aliens weren’t real, and yet here they were, shooting down innocent people and blowing up buildings at random. They were merciless. You couldn’t help but wonder when would they turn their eyes on you and the children.

You met your students by the building and wiped a few of their eyes on the edge of your dress, patting their heads as you huddled them together against the edge of the building, shielding them with your wide frame as best you could.

“It’s going to be ok,” you soothed softly, hoping someone believed those words, even if that someone was you.

“Ms. (y/n),” a small, trembling voice said.

You looked down at Beth, who still held the Captain America lamp clutched in her arms.

“Is Captain America going to save us?” she whimpered.

This seemed to catch the attention of a few others, all who turned to look at you with the same hopeful eyes. With the world crashing around them, you didn’t know how to tell them the truth. That this was one small school would catch the eye of any of the superheros circling the town. The best hope you had was that Iron Man’s tech would pick up the presence of little kids and try to steer the aliens away from you. You couldn’t tell them that though.

“Of course he is! He’s just busy fighting right now, but when he finishes that fight, he’s going to start making his way toward us,” you said, smiling at their faces.

You could see the hope flash across their faces and that was enough to quiet some of their sobs as they waited for their favorite hero to show up and get them to safety.

They all huddled back up against the building as you continued your story from earlier to try to distract them.

“In annoyance, Marvin Raccoon slammed his book closed and scurried down the tree until he could jump over to the Squirrels tree. When he’d climbed up to their house, he knocked loudly on the door, but no one came to it, for the cracking of acorns was far too loud. He-” the story was cut off by a loud black for too close for comfort. Frantically, you grabbed two students that were close to the side of the blast, hauling them away from the edge just as the side exploded where they had been. Rubble crashed full force against you three and you fell to the ground, quickly hauling yourself above the students to protect them as best you could, brick and rock showering your body, your head pounding from where rock as smacked against it and something warm and wet trickled down the side of your face.

“Ms. (y/n)! Several students shouted.

You tried to shush them, fearing to alert anything that may have been nearby, but it was too late. Energy blasts began hitting the ground around you and you glanced back to see one of those ugly aliens holding a gun like you’d never seen before, firing in your direction. You hauled yourself up from the ground, ignoring the seering pain in your head as you gather your students around you, pushing them behind you to protect them as the alien grew closer, gun pointed in your direction, and this time, the aim was correct.

Whatever the cost.

The gun fired and you stared at the blast headed straight for your chest, but it never struck. Instead, a tall man in a sturdy blue uniform wielding a circular shield blocked the path of the blast, the shield deflecting it before he threw the shield and in one swift move, decapitated the alien.

“Captain America!” you heard several of your students whisper. “He really did come!”

The man in question turned around and your heart jumped naughtily in your chest. He looked just like he had in the 40’s based on the old cards your grandfather had given to you as a child. He must be wearing the same uniform too.

“Are any of the kids hurt?” he asked, his voice stern but comforting at the samr time.

You turned to look at them. The two boys you’d pulled from the side of the building before it had blown up had scratches on their arms, but everyone else looked fine.

“I think they’re all ok,” you said.

The man before you nodded and urgently strode toward you.

“There’s shelter in the subways. I’ll get you there. Maybe some of their parents will be there too, most civilians have been taken down now,” he said.

You nodded, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to speak as you motioned for your students to follow him.

He led the way off of school grounds, or what was left of the school, anyway. The trek to the subway was about a mile from the school, which typically wasn’t too far but today, dodging energy blasts from aliens and falling buildings, it felt like an eternity.

Halfway along the trip, Zach’s foot got stuck in a pile of rubble just as another building was falling nearby.

“Captain!” you shrieked, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and wrenching his foot from the rubble probably harder than you should have. By now, the super soldier had turned around, headed back to help you. The only thing you could think to do, to get Zach as far from the crash as possible as soon as possible was to throw him.

“It’s ok, Zach,” you tried to soothe the boy, eyes still on the building that felt like it was falling in slow motion. “You’re gonna be ok,” you promised as you shifted him in your arms, hands against his ribs, bending your elbows for leverage.

The Captain, who was now walking toward you, appeared confused as to what you were doing. The look quickly disappeared as you threw Zach away from you, sending him airborne in the man’s direction. The boy shrieked at the sudden move and continued yelping as Captain America’s arms closed around him.

“You’re ok,” you could hear him soothe, though you weren’t paying too much attention as pieces from the building had now begun falling.

“Ms. (y/n)!” several small voices screamed.

“Get them to the subway!” you begged the Captain as more rubble fell down around you, you dodging them as best you could.

“No!” several shrieked.

“Go!” you raised your voice, turning from the building back to the group.

You turned back to watch the building fall to find a heavy cinderblock falling straight toward you. You moved away as qyickly as possible, but you weren’t quick enough. It fell hard against your knee, your other buckling in pain and your body collapsed amongst the rubble. You heard screams from the children and you prayed Captain America would get the safely to the subway. More parts of the building rained down on you, a rock smacking against the side of your head where the brick had hit earlier, reopening the wound to allow more blood to spill down the side of your face, pooling around your eye that was now closed in pain.

The building was growing closer and closer and there was no hope of getting out of this now. You just hoped it would crush you quickly, as painlessly as possible. You squeezed both eyes shut now, not wanting to watch the building fall on top of you even if you knew it was coming. Your body braced for pain, and you waited.

You heard horrible screeching of metal on metal, the metallic sound of heavy materials shattering over it, and rock smacking against rock as debris fell around you, none of it hitting you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, fearful it was too early and the building was still falling, but like rain hitting an umbrella, falling around you but never hitting you direction. Shielding you was a man holding a shield over his own head whilst also protecting yours, taking the brunt of the building in a way that would have knocked any normal person off their feet. But he took it and as the final shell of the building fell, a giant mass of metal, his shield dented in the side like it was half-melted butter. He groaned at the weight bearing down on his shoulders and let out a yell as he shoved it to the side away from you both.

With the last of the building down, the Captain let his shoulders drop, exhaustedly as he turned back to face you, his blue eyes finding yours determinedly.

“No man left behind,” he panted.

Painfully, you turned your head in the direction of your class and found them all sobbing, holding onto one another beneath a canopy of a half demolished building.

“We have to move. Can you walk?” he asked after he’d regained his breath.

You turned your attention back to him and shifted your injured knee. Pain shot through you but you tried to hide it.

“I think so,” you gritted out, rolling onto your side slowly as the pain intensified.

You were shaking, the pain in your knee and head had escalated drastically, so much so you could hardly focus on anything else as you tried to haul yourself onto your good knee.

“Ok, I’m going to hold onto your left side, put all your weight on me and I’ll pull you up onto your good leg,” the man said, his feet crunching in the rubble as he grew closer.

“No, you can’t support my weight. I’m too heavy,” you breathed, forcing your bad leg onto your foot and using a raised piece of building to try and push yourself up.

“Did you not see me just hold up a building. I guarantee you aren’t too heavy,” he argued, his voice closer now.

You opened your mouth to argue, but your mouth wouldn’t cooperated, too focused on the seering pain shooting through your knee that you were sure at least dislocated.

“Stubborn,” you heard him hiss and a few seconds later, a muscular arm wrapped itself around your waist and in one swift move, he pulled you to your feet, supporting all of your weight like you weighed nothing. “Now let’s get these kids to the subway, we’ve got about two more blocks,” he said.

Nodding, you tried to move away, but his arm around your waist held you locked to his side.

“That knee is no good. You’re not getting anywhere on it. Your options are me supporting this side or me carrying you. You pick,” he spoke sternly and your heart fluttered a little more.

“Fine,” you bit out, allowing him to support you as you hobbled on one leg over to where the students were standing. When they saw you, they surrounded you both, many small hands reaching out to touch you as if you would disappear if they didn’t.

“Let’s move,” Captain America said, voice much softer than he’d spoken to you a few minutes earlier and this fact only made your heart stutter more, but you quietened it. This was no place to be fawning over Captain America.

The rest of the trip down to the subway was mostly uneventful. Captain America had to fight off a few more aliens trying to impede our path, but it was nothing compared to the building earlier. They were handled swiftly and finally, the subway entrance came into view.

You sent the students down first, quickly wanting them out of the mess that had become New York. As they were headed down, you turned back to survey the situation. Aliens on weird hover crafts were flying in all directions. A giant, green, mass of muscle was throwing cars at them while lightening fried more of them. There was a man on a distant building shooting exploding arrows and a man in a metal suit whizzing through the air shooting the alien things. He seemed to spot the Captain and blew in our direction as the last of the students dipped into the subway.

“When you’re done playing husband, get her number, then we could really use your help,” the voice of Tony Stark spoke sarcastically.

“These are the kids from the elementary school. Didn’t think we should have a bunch of kids running around. Now I’ve got to get her down here because she can’t walk,” Captain America shot back.

Iron Man didn’t have time to respond before more alien creatures began firing in your direction again. He shot blasts at them and took back off to the sky, leading another group away from you.

“I can make it down the rest on my own,” you ensured the Captain.

Iron Man was right. The problem was no where close to resolved.

“No you can’t and like Stark said, I haven’t gotten your number yet.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the statement but you didn’t have time think about it as he began leaded you down into the subway.

Walking down the steps was proving to be more difficult than you’d wagered and your other knee was starting to buckle from the brunt of your weight.

“I’m sorry” you wheezed exhaustedly.

“It’s ok,” the man said.

He paused on a step and removed his arm from your waist. Assuming he was letting you go here to get back up to the city, you gripped the railings for support and negotiated with your knees to carry you a little further. You didn’t have time to make them work, however, before they were swept out from under you, an arm bracing your back. You let out an alarmed shriek.

“Relax. This is easier and your body is too tired to continue. I promise I won’t drop you.”

You wound an arm around his neck to help support yourself as he carried you down the rest of the steps into the vastly overcrowded subway.

“Where are my kids?” you asked, looking around, growing frantic when you didn’t see them.

“They’re over here,” the Captain said, walking in the direction he’d seen them.

You looked away from him to where he was taking you and, sure enough, there they all were huddled against a wall sipping juice boxes with animal crackers around a woman whom you recognized to be one of your students’ parents. Said girl, Maisy, was sitting cradled in her mothers lap.

“Ms. (y/n)!” a few of your students cheered as they saw you.

Captain America walked you right up to the group and looked around evidently for a wheelchair or something to put you in, but finding nothing, he had no choice but to sit you on the floor.

“I’ll be fine here. Go save someone else,” you assured him.

He nodded and gently lowered you down onto the floor, sliding his arms from beneath your legs. At the last moment, you wrapped both arms around his neck and he froze, shocked. You were shocked by what you were doing too, but you couldn’t stop now.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his cheek. “Thank you for saving them, saving us.”

When you let him go, he stood up fully, his cheeks pink and his feet shuffling awkwardly. For a moment, you thought you’d broken him before he turned to leave.

“You’re welcome,” he said in the same gentle tone he’d used with the kids earlier.

A moment later, he was gone, back out into the chaos.

“Are you ok?” the voice of the mother asked.

You turned around and nodded slowly.

“Well you look like hell,” she continued, voice light. “Judgment impaired too, you realize you just kissed Captain America, right?” she teased.

Suddenly the weight of what you’d done brought flames to your cheeks.

“I can’t believe I did that,” you muttered.

The mother scoffed and let out a small laugh.

“You have literally been through hell today. Getting all these kids to safety in the middle of a literal war zone, he was your saving grace who, by the look of it, actually saved your life. It’s totally understandable!” she said.

You nodded, nerves still settling heavy in your stomach with disbelief. You kissed Captain freaking America! 70 year old man freshly frozen since the 40’s!

“He probably thinks I’m the wackiest woman in the world,” you groaned.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure he gets that all the time,” she offered.

Despite her efforts to make you feel better, the feeling in the pit of your stomach only deepend.

“Ms. (y/n),” the small voice of Beth called your attention and you snapped out of your worries over kissing Captain America to give her your full, undivided attention.

“Yes sweetheart?”

The girl stood up from the group she had been huddled in. Her hair was now in a maddening tangle of red blossoming from the golden clip she’d been showing off to everyone previously that morning. Her blue and gray dress was now covered in dirt with a few rips up in the fabric. In her arms, she carried the Captain America lamp. It was no longer lit up and looked like it had a few cracks, but it was still in one piece. You smiled at her and held out your arms. She gladly waded through the sea of bodies and sat herself on your lap, clutching the lamp to her body.

“I wanna go home,” she whispered.

You nodded and pet her tangled hair. You were sure that was all anybody wanted right now.

It felt like hours later when the first responders used the intercom system to tell everyone that the battle was over. The “Avengers” had one, the aliens were gone. We could all come out and go to the hospital or home. By this time, all of your students had been located by their parents, the police had assisted with this and, it was deeply surprising how many parents were in the same subway entrance as you were with your kids. Only a few had to be taken to different entrances by police officers and you’d gotten confirmation that they’d made it.

Upon the announcement, the crowd began to clear out with a rolling mutter, brave souls venturing to the top to see the mess the city had become, others being put on stretchers to be take to hospitals. You’d already waved off a few paramedics who had come to take you to a hospital. There were other, far more injured people that needed medical help much more than you did. You could always nurse your knee for a few days then go.

One paramedic had charitably given you a pair of crutches to get around on and as carefully as you could, you hauled yourself up on them to hobble out of the subway and try to get home, if you still had one, that is.

“All the kids get to their parents ok?” a voice behind you startled you.

You jumped and dropped one of your crutches before turning around to see who the wise-guy spooking a crippled girl was. You eyes widened when you saw Captain America picking your crutch up off he ground.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shook your head and offered him a small smile, heart accelorating.

“Were you looking for someone?” you asked, voice coming out shy and timid now that all of the adrenaline had been flushed from your system.

“Yeah, you,” he said. Your heart jumped.

“What does Captain America need with me?” you asked, swallowing.

“Well for starters, it’s Steve, and secondly, I realized I never got your number. Plus what kind of gentleman makes a beautiful woman walk home alone?” he gave you a sweet grin with a half smirk.

“You really don’t have to do that Cap- Steve, and I’m (y/n).”

“Oh but I do. You seem stubborn. I bet you weren’t planning on seeing a doctor about that knee until the hospitals cleared out. Am I right?” he asked.

You just stared at him in shock.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, it’s a good thing I happen to know a good doctor with some homevisit experience,” he said.

Your jaw slacked, unable to retort. The man before you took that as an excuse to gather you back up in his arms, another small shriek leaving your lips.

“Hey! I don’t know how things worked in the 40’s, but you can just go around picking girls up! Especially ones that are bound to literally break your back!” you argued, glaring at him.

“Break my back?” he tossed you up in the air and caught you smoothly in the air as though to prove a point. You yelped and squirmed as he smoothly caught you again.

“Hey!”

“Now are you going to tell me where you live or are you going to make me guess? Because I promise, I’m not the best guesser.”

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest but gave him your address never the less. It wasn’t too far, eight blocks away, but you didn’t like the thought of your body weight baring down on Steve’s shoulders after he literally just saved your life a few hours ago. He didn’t complain though, keeping a steady pace the entire trip until he walked you straight up to your apartment doors (surprisingly, the apartment and most things surrounding were still standing and untouched).

You unlocked the door while still in his arms and he carried you through the doorway.

“Nice place,” he said before gently placing you down on the couch and snagging a throw pillow, placing it on the coffee table to elevate your leg. “Dr. Banner should be around later tonight, he has a few things to clean up first,” Steve said.

You nodded and leaned into the cushions, letting your muscles relax as you slowly felt yourself succumb to the events of the day.

“Thank you for saving me,” you sniffled.

He sat down on the couch beside you and took one of your hands in his.

“I wasn’t going to let you or any of those kids die,” he promised.

You nodded, hot tears slowly rolling down your cheeks and he caressed your skin, brushing the tears away with his thumb.

“I know this is horrible timing, emotions are high right now because we just got out of an intense fight, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner with me sometime? Or maybe go dancing if we can find somewhere?” he asked.

Maybe it was your already raw emotions or the shock of the days events, but you found yourself giggling at his question, so much so that he almost looked confused and insecure, afraid you were laughing at him.

“I promise there are places to dance around here, but I doubt they’d be anything like you’re used to,” you chuckled.

This brought a smile to his lips.

“I’d be happy to give it a chance if you’ll give this a chance. Will you?” he asked.

You thought about it for a moment. A thousand questions were running through your head. Why you? Why now? How was this even possible? But despite all those questions, there was still a small voice in the back of your head saying ‘Captain America will come rescue us,’ and he did, some way, some how, he found us. Now he was finding just you, and that warmed a piece of your heart you thought had been frozen a long time ago.

“Yes,” you whispered.

A smile crossed features and he scooted a little closer.

“How’s Saturday night sound?” he asked. “Assuming you can walk.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, leaning closer to him.

When you kissed his cheek this time, it wasn’t out of shock or delirium and you didn’t immediately regret it. This time, when your lips touched his cheek, you wished it were his lips, but that would come in time. You could be patient because he was worth being patient for.

#mcu fanfiction #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america x you #captain america fanfiction #captain america #steve rogers #avengers #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fandom #mcu fic #mcu x reader #marvel movies #battle of new york

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aintinacage · 1 year

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#marvel #mcu #avengers #marvels avengers #Loki #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston #big bendy horns #battle of New York #avengers 1 #avengers deleted scene #marvel deleted scene

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god-of-jotunn · 2 years

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i wonder where matt was during the battle of new york

#yeah im watching avengers if u cant tell #mine #marvel #avengers 1 #the avengers #battle of new york #mcu #marvel cinematic universe

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starkslove101 · 8 months

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CHAPTER 13: "Glorious Purpose"

A/N: This chapter is the longest one so far. It has over 5k words. Pls leave some likes and some comments. I'd like to know what you guys think!

I woke up around 5 A.M... I kept stirring and woke up Steve in the process. "Doll, are you alright?" His New York accent coming through. I sighed, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry" Steve turned to his side. "It's fine. This bed is too soft anyway" he laughed. "What's wrong?" he asked. "I don't know. I couldn't sleep anymore. Something is about to happen I just can't say what it is" My hand was covering my face, slowly dragging git down.

Steve gave me a sorry look and pulled me closer. "It's going to be okay" We stayed like this for hours. I kept falling asleep and waking up. Around 9 A.M. I woke up again. This time Steve was gone. He left a note on his pillow, out training. I will see you later today. I love you - Steve.

I smiled as I put it on my nightstand. I got out of bed and grabbed my phone while I was walking to the kitchen.

I checked it for messages. Tony texted me 30 minutes ago. Wakey wakey, I'm coming with coffee and breakfast. I sighed as I was leaning against the kitchen counter. I started to put my hair in a bun. Not much later Tony knocked on the door. "Good morning sleepyhead" he stood there with 2 cups of coffee and a box full of donuts. I didn't say anything. I just stepped aside so that he could come in.

I knew this was his way of saying sorry. "You are not a morning person" he laughed. He set everything on the kitchen island and sat down. "I usually don't do much talking in the morning," I remarked. "Gross" Tony said laughing. I rolled my eyes. He slipped me a coffee and I took it. "Thanks" I stared out of the window. "What's wrong?" Tony asked. I sighed and shook my head. "I just can't shake this feeling that something is about to happen," I said. "Ever since that attack in Mexico earlier this year," I said again. "The god of Thunder is real and it makes me wonder what else is out there you know," I said, biting a piece from a white glazed donut. I saw Tony think. He didn't say and just listened.

"The 1940s were such a simpler time you know. The weirdest thing we had was Captain America" I said feeling so nostalgic. "And if there was something we didn't know about it" Tony didn't even try to get a word in. "I liked the time when this wasn't a problem" I showed my glowing hand. Tony just nodded. "He felt guilty you know" I bit the inside of my cheek. "Sure" I spit. "He ruined my life. He took my husband away from me, kept my powers a secret just so he could test a time machine and I don't even know why" I felt heat rising to my hands and it took everything in me not to burn down my kitchen.

Tony looked down. "I understand but come with me. I found lots of letters addressed to you" I gave him a look. "Please humble me. If you don't want to read the letters we can just hang out if you want" he gave me his best puppy-dog eyes to convince me. I thought about it. I could use the distraction. "Fine, let me change into something more decent," I said. Tony nodded while he grabbed another donut.

I went to my room and grabbed black jeans and an emerald green blouse from my closet. I took a black belt with a golden circle to close it off. I combed through my hair putting it in a high bun. I walked out and I saw Tony standing in front of my bookcase. "You have the original version of The Hobbit that's awesome" he flipped through it. "It's a gift. I never read it" I admitted. Tony looked at me surprised that I hadn't.

I grabbed my coat and bag and made my way to the door. Tony put the book back and walked towards me while grabbing his keys from his pocket. We walked down and got in his car.

"I asked to bring back your car from Arizona. It's in the parking lot" I smiled. "Thank you. I don't think I'd survive another trip on Steve's bike" Tony laughed.

"It's good to have you with me," he said. I hummed. "Yeah," I looked out of the window. Tony sighed. "I'm sorry for everything I shouldn't have pushed it" Tony finally apologized. "It's fine" I just said. I wasn't mad at him. He shouldn't have to say sorry for anything.

"Look" I sighed. "This place is the only thing I have left from Jack and the little I have left from my old life," I said. I grabbed Tony's hand in mine. "I understand," he said looking down on our hands touching. "It's yours. If you ever want to stay and have some privacy" he grabbed my hand tighter and I nodded.

We finally arrived at Stark Industries and got out of the car. We made our way to his office. However, When we arrived, the door to his office was open. "Were you expecting someone?" I asked. "No, it might be Pepper," Tony said shrugging his shoulders. I stepped in front of him and I pushed the door open with my foot.

Someone was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a black suit. I knew who it was. "Phil" I sighed. I know what that means... He swiftly turned around with a soft smile on his face. Tony looked at me with big eyes. "Of course, you know this guy," Tony remarked as he made his way to his seat.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. That uneasy feeling in my chest returned. "The Avengers initiative" I froze in my place. This confirmed everything I was dreading.

"What do you need me to do?" I asked. "Help me gather everyone, starting with him" he pointed to Tony. Tony stammered but quickly shut up.

Phil handed me a file. He quickly left as his phone kept ringing.

"Tony, we need to talk"

1999.

"May I introduce you to Agent Colson" I leaned against the kitchen cabinet. Nick had his hands crossed behind his back. A young man was standing next to him.

"You know last time you broke In I had to tell Tony I was talking to myself. He thinks I'm crazy now" I said sipping coffee.

The new guy looked amused. "What's your actual name honey?" I turned my head to the stranger in front of me. "Phil Coulson Ma'am" I smiled as he stuck out his hand to shake. "Please don't call me ma'am makes me feel old," I said. "Apologies" he smiled. "Nice to meet you, Phil"

"Did you bring what I asked for?" A plastic bag fell on the ground with a loud thud as Fury threw it.

"What's in the bag?" Nick asked.

"Why are you asking? You already know" I opened the bag and took it out. Coulson was grinning from ear to ear. He probably wasn't used to someone talking to Fury like that. He is the new director of S.H.I.E.L.D. after all.

I threw the plastic bag on the ground and I revealed a SSR jacket. It was Jack's. I just held it tightly against my chest, smelling it. It had his cologne all over it. "Thank you," I said, my voice soft.

"Now, what can I do for you?" I asked, holding the jacket like a teddy bear. "I need to access some files. Howard gave you the highest clearance" I frowned. "How can I have the highest clearance as far as he knows I've been dead for decades" Nick shook his shoulders. "I don't know" I sighed.

"Fine, Where do I need to sign?" Phil looked at me with a sorry look. "You're going to have to come with us," Nick said. I looked at the door. "Stark is in a meeting. I'll get you in and out in an hour" I sighed again. "I could use some fresh air" I gave in.

In a matter of minutes, I found myself in their headquarters. "Show me those papers" I sat down in an office chair. Phil put them down softly in front of me. "The Avengers Initiative" I read. I flipped through the pages. "What is that?" I looked at Fury for an explanation.

"4 years ago there was an Invasion. We have kept it under wraps so far so I am counting on your discretion" Fury warned. "My lips are sealed" I raised my hands in surrender. "I knew then and there that we couldn't leave Earth unprotected" I nodded. Makes sense, I thought.

Fury sat down in front of me. "Why do you need me to sign off?" Fury leaned forward and turned a few pages. "Howard put in a clause. I Don't know why. But you are the only one that can give permission" Fury said.

I shook my head. "Sure whatever," I said. "If this puts Tony or anyone else in danger I will come for you" I took a pen and signed the papers. "I can pull the stops on this too right?" I asked as I put a dot next to my name after I signed. I looked up and Fury nodded. "I promise it'll be alright," Fury said. Coulson looked up surprised. Nick grabbed the papers and walked out.

"He likes you though," Phil said. "He does not make promises" I looked up. "They all do it for Howard. They're nice to me because of him. This is just his guilt manifesting." I spit. "I had a good life. Now I'm stuck to a Playboy billionaire" I felt anger coming up.

Phil gave me a sympathetic look. He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. All he did was listen and it felt nice instead of being on the receiving end. "These are weird times," I said. "I miss the time when an entire nation was fascinated by one man with a shield" Coulsons' eyes lit up.

It was nice seeing someone being touched by the sentiment of heroes. They don't exist. It didn't have any purpose.

Heroes die or they disappear...

2012.

"I thought they only wanted me as a consultant," Tony said. The sleeves of his white button-up shirt were rolled up over his elbows. A few buttons hung open.

If it wasn't so early he'd probably be neck deep in a bottle of whisky right now. "They do. But they don't have a say in it anymore, I do" I said emphasizing 'they'.

"I don't need Tony Stark. I need Iron Man" I stopped Tony from pacing back and forth.

I sat on the desk one leg was lying on top of it and the other stood on the ground to hold my balance.

"Who else is going to join?" Tony looked down at me. "I don't know," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "Then what do you know?" I bit the inside of my cheek. Not much, I thought. "That this case is highly sensitive and could be catastrophic if we don't do something about it" I looked him in the eyes. Tony grabbed my arm. "How are you so sane about this?" I looked away for a second.

I didn't feel sane at all. I was scared and I wasn't sure if we were doing the right thing. Howard trusted me with this but I'm still kept in the dark about a lot of stuff. Nick Fury and I weren't on the best terms since the incident with Killian. I was doing this to keep New York and everyone I care about safe.

The only hope I held onto was that I could pull the plug on this whenever I wanted. Even though I knew in the back of my mind that Nick could pull one over on me and shut me out. "I am not. but I also need you to keep calm and collected. I know you can do that" Tony nodded hesitantly "I trust you" He placed his hand on my cheek in a firm grip, without hurting me. Somehow it felt comforting to me. "It's going to be fine," I said with a soft smile.

"Now" I pulled back and grabbed another folder. "What do you know about thermonuclear astrophysics" Tony smiled.

"Absolutely Nothing. Give me a few hours" I laughed.

"There's my man" I patted him on the back. "Get studying," I said. " I need to make a call" I jumped off the desk, straightening my clothes.

"You look great in that blouse," Tony said when I walked out of his office. "I know," I said before I closed the door.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Phil's number. "It's me," I said when he picked up. "Did you find her?" Phil shifted to the other side.

"Yes, we did we're on our way to Calcutta" I leaned against the wall.

"Calcutta?" I asked.

"We're looking for Banner" It was a good thing that I was leaning against the wall. "Dear God. Be careful" I said.

"Always, Ma'am" The line went dead after that.

I walked back into Tony's office. His desk was full of papers and notes. I smiled as I saw him. He looked so adorable. "How was your phone call?"

"Short" I laughed. "How's studying going?" he looked up.

"It would be nice If I knew what I was studying for?" I laughed and showed my phone.

"This has been stolen from us early this morning" Tony looked up taking the phone from me.

"The tesseract?" I nodded, crossing my arms over each other. "I thought your boyfriend dunked it in the ocean 60 years ago" I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, until your dear old dad got it from the ocean looking for Steve" Tony smirked.

"You me to find out what they're planning, right?" he asked.

"More or less. You'll have help though" I smiled innocently.

"Alright now, leave" I nodded. I decided to go down to the lobby and get something to drink.

I grabbed a water bottle from the vending machine. While I get lost in my own thoughts, trying to gather them. Trying to make sense of the whole situation wasn't easy. Especially because there were so many secrets. I was sure Howard made S.H.I.E.L.D. to get rid of the whole secrecy within government buildings.

"Hey," I jumped up. I turned around. It was Steve.

"Hi honey" I smiled. I went in for a kiss but he dodged it. I frowned. "What's wrong?" I asked. He crossed his arms.

"How long have you known?" I frowned again.

"Known what?" I stammered. "The tesseract" I shook my head.

"It's been here for decades," I said. "I know as much as you do," That was a lie. I knew it had been here for years.

Steve noticed my lost look. "What do you know" he turned to me, his eyes soft. "There's an emergency protocol in place" I explained. He took my hands in his, not as a reassureance but more to calm his nerves. "It's a long story." I sighed. I started explaining what was going on when I was interrupted by the phone going off.

It was a text from Phil. 'We have Banner. We'll meet at the helicarrier in 15 hours' it read.

*15 hours later*

I was on my third cup of coffee. Tony had this worried look on his face and Steve was constantly pulling on the neck of his shirt. Everyone was on edge. We have been short on information. The only thing we knew was that one of our agents and our scientist Erik Selvig had been compromised.

All I could do was drink coffee and wait. "Woman, if you don't stop drinking coffee your heart will give out," Tony said, clearly amused. I hadn't slept and I needed a pick-me-up.

"The last thing I remember is that I have healing capabilities" I looked at Tony while drinking from my cup. He shook his head laughing as he took away my cup and switched it for some water.

"Here drink that or take a nap" he looked me in the eyes sternly.

"Yes Father" I laughed, doing a salute. Tony just shook his head.

People were slowly gathering for Fury's briefing. After a while, Fury and Coulson walked in with Bruce and Natacha on their heels. "Alright!" Fury said slowly getting the attention. Everyone took their place around the table. I was too nervous to sit down so I stood behind the chair. Tony and Steve both stood next to me. "Yesterday our S.H.I.E.L.D.- base was destroyed." I looked down. I saw the damage when I went up there a few hours ago. It was nothing but rubble with a S.H.I.E.L.D.- logo on it.

"Was something taken before you know" Tony mimicked the sound of an explosion. Fury wasn't having it, however. "The tesseract was taken from us along with a few of our best agents who are now compromised" I shared a look with Natasha. I knew that one of the agents was Barton. She looked sad.

"Who took it?" I asked. "This guy," Fury said, A picture showed behind him. You have got to be kidding me, I grabbed the chair in front of me and sat down. Tony caught on and grabbed my shoulder. Everyone was on edge now. This was exactly what I was worried about.

"A literal God, How about that" Tony Whispered in my ear. I started scratching my arm again. "We traced them down to Stuttgart Germany" We all locked eyes with each other. Once the briefing was over we all walked out to the hall. I felt angry and scared. I was about to confront Fury but Steve stopped me. "Leave it" Steve grabbed my wrist.

He knew it wouldn't end well. I was still mad at him about the whole Killian fiasco. "He's hiding something" I spit, angry. I felt the heat going through my hands again. "We'll figure it out" We made our way to the lab. Someone was already there when we got here. He turned around. "Bruce, Hi" I smiled and stuck out my hand. "Ransom" he smiled uncomfortably. "Thank you for coming," I said placing my other hand on his. "It's not like I had much of a choice" I gave him a sorry look."May I introduce you to my friends" I stepped aside. Tony immediately struck up a conversation.

Steve made his way beside me. "So, what's the plan" He whispered.

"There's a storage room at the bottom of the helicarrier. I have a hunch you'll find something there" I whispered back. "I'll talk to Tony to see if he can find something" Steve gave me a stern nod. "I'll be right back" I made my way to Tony and Bruce.

Sketches of the tesseract were scattered around. There was one I hadn't seen before. "What's this?" I pointed to it. "We call it the scepter. Loki has it with him. He can control minds with it" Bruce said. "Can you track it?" I asked. "I'm trying. But I think we'll have a better chance of tracking Loki than the staff" I sighed. " Alright. Thank you" I leaned against the desk.

Bruce excused himself. Tony slid against the desk standing next to me. "I have J.A.R.V.I.S. running codes, so we'll see what's going on" I smiled. "Thank you" I hugged his arm. "You're very welcome darling" he placed his head on mine. "I don't know what to do now" Tony laughed. "We'll know when we know" I nodded. "Yeah," we had 5 seconds of silence before the computer started beeping.

We walked over to the screen where the noise was coming from. "What is it?" I asked. Tony Just cursed. Turned the screen towards me. "What's phase 2?" It showed a blueprint of weapons. But before we had time to figure it out, Fury burst in the door. "What the hell is going on?" I felt anger boiling up again.

"This!" Steve walked in dropping a gun on the table. Steve's face looked like it was about to explode. I was right behind him when I saw the HYDRA logo on it. Fury raised his hands and took a few steps back.

"Look, I can explain" I took a few steps forward.

"Please do before I take your head off your body" My hands balled up into fists burning bright orange.

"After the Invasion In Mexico, we noticed that we were painfully and hilariously outgunned we had to find a way to protect ourselves." I frowned, tilting my head.

"Then why get this team together?" Steve asked, his voice stern.

"Phase 2 was just in case Phase 1 didn't work" Fury pointed to us. His answer didn't clarify anything. I was still angry and his answer made it worse. I could restrain myself to not blow his head off of his body. He's still my boss after all and he knows things that I haven't figured out yet. I might still need him.

"I need this to work" Fury sounded almost desperate. Before the situation could get worse the alarms went off.

"It's Loki, we found him" Natacha ran in with Maria and Bruce behind her. "He's at the opera in Germany," she said. I sighed desperately.

"For what?" I asked. "Iridiuim" Bruce covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. He looked as desperate and scared as I was. All be it for different reasons. "Why does he need iridium?" Steve asked zipping up his suit, getting ready for a fight. "He needs it to stabilize the Tesseract," I said prompting everyone to look at me like I had two heads.

Some sense of Pride boiled up inside of me. In all honesty, I am not smart enough to know any of this. I just looked at Tony's notes last night. I remembered something.

"Yeah, we'll have to get it before he does" Tony Said. "Suit up," Steve said halfway out of the door. Everyone shared a look and ran out.

Soon Bruce and I were the only ones left in the room. Bruce looked nervous.

"Are you alright Doctor?" he nodded. "All of this is new for me" I knew he didn't feel safe. Nor did he want to be here. I sat up on the desk.

"You are safe here doctor" I tried reassuring him. It didn't help.

"It's not me I'm scared about. I'm scared about the other guy" I looked down.

"It's gonna be fine" I decided to shift the focus.

"Can you tell me more about that scepter-thingy?" Bruce looked relieved and smiled.

"This 'thingy" he laughed. "Can control minds" Bruce explained. "There's nothing more to tell about it honestly. It's all we know" I sighed.

"We will figure it out I guess," I said, reassuring him.

"Take a break. It'll be a while before they get back" he looked up at me, amused.

"It's not like I can go on a stroll" I rolled my eyes.

"No, I meant to eat something" I laughed, grabbing the pack of half-eaten berries Tony started eating but dropped when he had to go. He took it and devoured it.

"I'll get something to drink" I walked out, looking for something.

"Tony was right; I shouldn't have drunk so much coffee." Exhaustion started to kick in. I yawned as I walked to the mini-kitchen of the plane. I crouched down in front of a fridge filled with bottles of water. I grabbed two. I turned around and jumped up by Coulson appearing behind me. His arms crossed behind his back.

"Agent Evans" he greeted me and I smiled.

"It's Ransom but hi Phill" he smiled.

"Do you need anything?" He smiled but shook his head.

"I just wanted to know how you were doing?" I looked up surprised.

"I am doing just fine" I smiled innocently. I wasn't doing fine. I was terrified. It seemed like he noticed.

What he did next surprised me. He pulled me into a hug, a tight one. It took my brain a while to register his action.

"Wha- agent Colson" We stood there in an awkward hug. I didn't fight it. "That's nice" I sighed as I fell into his grip. Everyone was probably looking at us like we were crazy. He took a few steps back. "Thank you," he said as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. I'm sure he needed that hug more than I did. "Of course, are you sure that you don't need anything else?" I asked and laughed.

"Yeah, join S.H.I.E.L.D. again" I squinted my eyes.

"If you all start telling the truth I'll consider it" He looked away quickly and set his eyes back on me.

"Fair enough" he sighed.

"Be careful, Phil" I said. "Out of everyone, here on this hellicarrier. You're the only one I truly trust" I said.

He looked looked at his shoes. "You too" I nodded and finally excused myself and walked back to the lab.

Bruce was staring aimlessly through the window when I got there. Not that there was much to see. There were only clouds and blue skies.

"I have water" Bruce stuck out his hand.

"Thanks" I sat back down on the desk. We didn't say anything. It felt nice to zone out for a while. Our peace was interrupted, however, when people started running.

"Bruce" I whispered, touching his arm. He turned around and we both made our way to the door. Loki walked in, guarded by eight soldiers. His hands were cuffed.

I felt like I couldn't breathe. If I could, I would scream and run but my feet were glued to the floor. Loki flashed an evil smile as he passed by. It sent shivers down my spine. Banner shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Steve and Tony appeared behind him.

I was relieved, to say the least.

Steve had opened up his suit, his mask was broken.

"Are you guys okay?" They nodded. They looked shaken up. I just pulled both of them in a tight hug.

"I just fought a God. I'm not sure I'll ever be okay" Tony sighed dramatically. "In all honesty, I don't think I ever was okay" Tony joked and I looked up, amused.

"Let's go we need to get debriefed," Steve said. I nodded and walked with them. Everyone was sitting at the round table again. Except for Thor. He was so tall that he towered over me. The warmth radiating from him.

Steve and Tony sat down. The adrenaline inside me was too high for me to relax and sit down. The screen was pulled up. It had live footage of the basement where Loki was being kept. He was talking about Banner. He shared a look with Natasha. He rubbed his temples. Steve closed his screen.

"He's gonna drag this out" Steve sighed. "Thor, what's his play?" he asked.

"He has an army called the Chitauri. They're not of Asgard nor any world has known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract." Thor said.

"That's why he needs Erik Selvig" Bruce stood up and started pacing. "He's building another portal" Bruce looked at me. I didn't know what to do.

"Selvig, I know him" Thor chimed.

"He's an astrophysicist," I said.

"He's a friend," Thor said and locked eyes with me. "Loki has them under some kind of spell." his arms were crossed making his muscular arms more prominent.

"Along with one of ours," Natasha said her voice laced with sadness.

"I can't be the only one who thinks that you captured Loki way too easily, right?" I stated.

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki. You can smell crazy on him," Bruce said. Agitating Thor.

"Have a care of how you speak. Loki is beyond reason but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother." He turned towards Banner.

"He killed 80 people in two days," Natasha said.

"He's adopted?" Thor quipped. I laughed silently.

"He has the iridium to stabilize the Portal. Why?" Bruce asked.

"So that the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at S.H.I.E.L.D." Tony chimed.

"Okay, but what does that mean?" I asked.

"It means the portal can stay open as long and as Loki wants." I bit the inside of my cheek.

"We need to stop him," I said. It was an obvious thought.

"So who's gonna go down there?" I said.

Everyone turned to Natasha. She rolled her eyes. "Fine." she stood up. I was excited. I was about to sit in the front row of an interrogation held by THE Agent Romanoff.

Tony.

I sighed locking eyes with Ransom, looking up. I noticed Thor's face contort. I leaned back in my chair and turned around.

"Hey, point breaks If you keep thinking like that your brains will explode," I remarked. He turned my way. Throwing his hammer up and down.

"This girl. Who is she?" he asked pointing to Ransom. Ransom froze. I raised my eyebrows.

"I'm Ransom," she said her voice so soft.

"Why do you need to know?" Steve asked standing up and pulling Ransom behind him.

"Y-you looks very familiar, Ma'am" he stammered. Surprised by the quick retaliation he encountered.

I tilted my head. "How so?" I stopped swirling around.

"I do not know. I cannot put my finger on it" he was walking back and forth.

"I mean I'm technically 95 years old maybe you've seen me before," she said smiling softly at him. Thor just nodded relieved as she smiled and when Steve backed off. He quickly let it go. We didn't have time to be focused on this right now. Instead, we shifted our focus back to the screen.

Loki was pacing in his cage.

"There are not many people who can sneak up on me" he snickers.

"But you'd figured I'd come," Natasha said her voice soft, laced with innocence.

"You would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate," he said. I rolled my eyes. Boy, and I am the one who is the sweet-talker.

"I want to know what you've done with Agent Barton and Selvig" Natasha's hands were crossed in front of her.

"I'd say that I've expanded their minds" his voice laced with amusement. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" he bested her.

"Love is for children. I owe him a debt" she said not even revealing an inch of emotions.

She started doing a deep dive into her history. "Before I worked for SHIELD, I uh- well, I made a name for myself. I have a very specific skill set. I didn't care who I used it for, or on. I got on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar in a bad way. Agent Barton was sent to kill me, he made a different call." she said. I shifted my focus to Ransom, she was scratching her arm.

Steve grabbed her hand to stop her. Jealousy washed over me, again. I needed to stop this.

"Ah, no. But I like this. Your world is in the balance, and you bargain for one man" I looked at Ransom again. I'd do everything for her.

"Regimes fall every day I tend not to weep over that. I'm Russian" I laughed silently.

The room shook as Loki hit the glass of his container. Natasha jumped back, looking scared.

He started screaming and spitting words. I couldn't register much of what he was saying. I was ready to go in there and to shut him up.

"Before You go flying up there, look," Ransom said and grabbed my arm.

"When he screams I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!" Natasha was fake crying, her head hanging low.

"You're a monster!" she yelled, her hands covering her face.

"Oh no, you brought the monster!" she turned around facing Loki, her face dry.

"Doctor Banner? That's your play?" Loki's eyes widened as he stepped back.

Natasha turned around, walking away from the room. She spoke into her comms. "He's after Banner," she said.

Before she left the room, she turned around. "Thank you for your cooperation" Natasha finished her interrogation.

I smiled. Ransom stood beside me. "That was so hot" she whispered. I looked at her amused. No one else noticed her saying this. "Yeah, I know" We started giggling like two teenagers.

Steve looked at us, not understanding what was going on. Making me have some sense of power and control of my feelings and the situation.

Next part

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courtforshort15 · 1 year

Text

Chapter 5

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 6,200

Trigger warning: None really, just some references to violence

Chapter Index

Thank you to @hellskitchens-whore, @lazyxsquirrel, @pokemonandcatsmostly, @infinityisbright, and @dorothleah for some of the ideas💜

When you were younger, still in the hormone-infused chaos they called high-school, your mother was diagnosed with cancer.

You spent countless hours by her side, accompanying her to chemo sessions after class, skipping school to take care of her when your father couldn't quite get away from work, staying up far too late to finish homework because your mother had a strict routine of meds and care she needed before she fell asleep. You rearranged your entire life to help her, and not once did you regret a single second.

And through every appointment, through every bad day your mother had, you stayed by her side and kept hope alive, naïve but exceedingly helpless as she wilted away in front of you, doing your best to ignore the rings around her eyes and gray hue that settled underneath her skin.

Her death hit you hard, in ways you were still trying to process, every day adding a brick to the foundation you’ve been trying to build back up since she left. Months of praying and taking care of her blew up in your face, all your hard work and missed classes tossed down a drain as she took her last breaths. You were there when she passed, her perpetually cold, dry hand in yours, your heart begging her to stay while your mouth told her it was okay for her to rest, desperate to give her a sense of peace in her final moments, even as you shattered from the inside out.

You'd spent so much time hoping for a better outcome, selfish in your prayers to keep her with you, a naïve sense of achievement every time she finished a chemo round with a smile on her face. You know now that those smiles had been solely for you, solely for your comfort, and that she hid her pain from you as long as she could, fully aware that she was not going to live to see you go to your senior prom or graduate from high school.

Years later, the agony still hits you, still festers inside of you, lying in wait to remind you that life could be cruel and unforgiving. You hadn't been prepared for your mother's death, even though you had months to accept the possibility, and though you’ve tried to to push it away, sometimes it still feels like you're back there with her, holding her hand as she slowly fades away.

The betrayal of your hope and prayers had left you feeling hollow, left you feeling bitter, the pain sharp and acidic.

And while the shadowed pain of the past has little to do with whatever mess is currently feeding on the streets of New York City, finding the collapsed entrance to the subway station offers a similar feeling of betrayal and helplessness in the face of your dwindling chances of survival.

"Fuck," Matt swears as the entrance comes into your view, somehow aware of the situation before you can open your mouth to tell him . He runs over to the staircase that has all but disappeared in a pile of rubble, the brick and stone from a semi-collapsed building effectively sealing the entrance shut. A rock goes flying across the street, angrily kicked into the air by a dress shoe that has obviously seen better days. The man growls under his breath, shoulders stiff and face twisted in a snarl you’ve yet to see. He stands off to the side, and you watch as his hands clench in fists as he raises them to rest on his hips.

It claws at your throat, this surge of powerlessness, and you can do nothing more than bend over and place your hands on your knees, panting with adrenaline as it courses through your system, the feeling of barbed wire scraping along the walls of every vein. The adrenaline has been helpful thus far, pushing you despite the ache in various parts of your body, but now it chokes you, your lungs trying and almost failing to drag air in as you stare at the haven that’s simultaneously right before you and somehow still out of your reach.

Your torn hands reach up and pull at your hair, head tilting upwards as panic threatens to spill tears down your face.

"We need–we need a new game plan," you tell him quietly once you've regained a semblance of composure, taking in the form of the man that stands a few feet away from you, his frame simultaneously defeated and agitated. You walk over to him on shaky legs, avoiding the stone that litters the sidewalk, and grab the hand that's resting on his hip as he tilts his head downward and continues to frown harshly at the cement he can’t see. At your touch, he snaps his head back up, and just like that, determination settles back on his face, and the expression helps you steel your nerves. “Let’s…let's get away from the street.”

He gives a sharp nod, the motion almost mechanical, and without a word of protest, he lets you pull him quickly into the nearest alley that sits halfway down the block. It won’t offer a ton of shelter, the buildings are only a few stories on either side, but it’s worth the effort of movement if it means keeping you just slightly safer and out of view than being so close to the street. The jog is a short one, and your shoes clack loudly on the concrete with every step, but the sound barely registers over the noise of the city. Once you're deep enough into the alley, you drop his hand and lean against the brick.

Matt stands on the opposite side of the alley as you, lithe and broad-shouldered, and lets his body fall back into it, resting against the brick wall of the building with a heavy groan. He crosses his arms over his chest and twists his face into a glare of frustration. A crash sounds from a few blocks away, and you can’t help but flinch even as you keep your eyes trained on him.

“So what do we want to do?” you ask, cutting to the chase, knowing a decision needs to be made, and fast. You watch as his head lulls against the wall behind him. “Either we find somewhere to stay inside–”

“No.”

“--or we find a new subway station, if that’s the route we want to go. I think there’s one around here somewhere, but I’m not exactly sure where. I do know that there’s one off of 57th, though.”

“That’s six blocks from here,” he quickly objects with a subtle shake of his head, still frowning. “Would you be able to make it there in those shoes?”

Your chin lifts up, the motion somewhat defensive. “I’ve made it this far, haven’t I?”

Matt stands up straighter, something about your tone pulling him out of his head. “Of course,” he immediately agrees. “I didn’t mean—I just want to make sure you’ll be okay. Six blocks is normally nothing, but now we’re literally walking through a war zone. Things are bound to catch us off guard.”

“Right,” you mumble, because honestly, the shoes are a concern, and you can’t fault him for worrying about it. “But I’ll make it work, so don’t worry about me. Like I said, I’m not exactly sure where the nearest station is, and I don’t think wandering around looking for it is the best move. Do you?”

“No, you’re right,” he responds with a nod of his head. A brief ray of sunshine lights the alley, peeking out from the heavy dust and smoke littering the air of the city, and you catch a quick glimpse of the red tone that exists throughout his dark hair. “Normally I’d have a better idea of where one is based on…,” he inhales sharply, seemingly thinking about something before shaking his head abruptly and continuing, “based on the sounds and vibrations of the subways underneath the streets, but they’ve–they’ve stopped running.”

“You can hear the subways underneath the street?” you ask incredulously. Your eyes widen drastically as you take in the new piece of information. Hearing something coming from a few blocks away was one thing, but hearing through layers of concrete and asphalt was completely different.

How on Earth…?

The look on his face is slightly pained, as if he can’t decide if he should have told you or not, but he pushes forward anyway, the information already out there and not something he can retract. “Yes,” he says slowly, hesitantly, and again you get the feeling that he’s just given you a key or hint to whatever puzzle exists inside his mind. “But it’s not helpful right now. Not if they’re not running.”

“Jesus,” you say with a loud exhale, eyes still wide as you consider the way his body seems to be somehow defensive, as if nervous of what you’ll think and already pushing you away. “That’s amazing, and I–and I am interested in hearing more, but…it’s definitely not the right moment.”

“Not at all.” The grimace has shifted into a wry grin.

“Great.” Your agreement is swift, acknowledging the quick awkwardness that had settled and washed away within the span of a quick second, before lifting yourself up from where you’re leaning against the scratchy brick wall. “You said after all this, so I’ll bombard you with questions after.”

“Yes. After.”

The confirmation sends a quick thrill down your spine, but you do your best to ignore it.

You don’t let the silence drift on, still needing to fill the space with a desperate plan for survival. “Anyway,” you begin as you begin pacing up and down the alley, just a few steps in each direction, “the station is off of 57th. I think it’s six blocks up and two blocks east, but hopefully getting further away from Stark Tower works in our favor. I don’t–-I wish I knew where the other ones are, but I think this might just be our best bet. We’ll just…have to make it work, I guess.”

Matt takes a deep breath, chest rising and falling as he considers the idea. His hands return to his hips, a position you’ve noticed he takes frequently when he’s thinking, the color of his shirt dirty beyond redemption. Your left hand throbs underneath the tie he had given you, the color a molted blue and black that’s been soaked with red.

Somehow, he’s able to track the way your left hand clenches slightly, and you wonder if he has a way to sense your grimace, too. “How’s the hand?”

“Sore,” you tell him honestly because there’s really no reason to hide the discomfort. “Throbbing, actually. Feels like it’s still bleeding.”

Matt winces. “It is.”

“Great,” you respond weakly, sucking in a breath, not bothering to question how he knows. You cradle your hand to your chest and glance down at it with a frown. “That’s…great. How’s the head?”

“I’ll live,” he says with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, carefully avoiding the side that’s been cut. The motion still appears to be agitated, but the look on his face no longer seems so severe, and it puts you more at ease. “‘Tis but a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

You can’t help the choked laugh that bursts out. “Did you–did you just quote Monty Python?”

For just a brief moment, something so fleeting you’re not sure if you saw it right, a wicked smile slides across his face. It’s gone before you’re able to capture the image in your head, but it was there.

“You’re just a sarcastic little shit, aren’t you?” you ask rhetorically with a shake of your head, unable to hide the amusement despite the situation. “In the middle of a goddamn alien invasion and you’re cracking jokes.”

Matt gives a simple shrug of his shoulders, another small grin lighting his face before it changes into something more serious, head shifting slightly so that his left ear is more firmly aimed in the direction of the alley’s entrance. With a quiet and pronounced exhale, you turn your attention back to the matter at hand, letting go of the quick moment where Matt’s wicked smile had briefly distracted you from the city that reeked with terror.

As if on cue, a sound of a loud explosion soars across the buildings in midtown, and though it’s too far to feel the heat of the flames that have erupted, you immediately see the plume of smoke that begins drifting into the sky. It’s enough to draw the fear back in and under your skin.

“Right,” you say after a moment, clearing your throat loudly and stepping towards the entrance of the alley way. The thought of being open and on the street still makes you nervous, it has since you left the bookstore, but it’s not really something that can be helped at this point. “Are you ready?”

“Is this the part where you ask me to come with you if I want to live?”

“Jesus, Matt.”

“I’m starting to think that’s your standard response to things that scare or surprise you.”

There’s a strangled noise that starts in your throat and hisses out between your teeth as you swing your head to look at where he's standing just a few feet behind you. “I don’t—”

“As a Catholic, I feel like I should be offended,” he tells you with a quick upturn of his mouth as he steps up to your side. “But I suppose I’ll let it slide.”

You stare at him in surprise, unsure of where the attitude had suddenly come in. “How…gracious of you,” is all you can think of to say, mouth still gaping slightly. You’re fairly positive he’s joking, his sense of humor dry and sarcastic, but you’re still unsure. “I think we should…” Your voice trails off, and before you can start your train of thought again, there’s a large flash of light and the distant sound of roaring thunder.

Jaw hanging open, you look up, eyes aimed far above the surrounding skyscrapers as what appears to be multiple flashes of lightning strike across a sky that’s darkened suddenly. It startles you, the image unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, multiple bolts streaking up towards the gaping hole in the sky. The things pouring from the open wound in the atmosphere are only stalled slightly, a few disappearing back into the hole, but nothing seems to change or ultimately slow their entrance into the space above New York.

The source of the lightning seems to be a building far off in the distance, because there’s no way it’s been caused by a storm, but it’s too far away and too far out of sight for you to tell exactly where it’s coming from. It rocks you to your core, the event yet another reminder that what’s happening is completely out of your control, just a helpless citizen forced to react to a situation that you never would have thought was possible in a million years.

“What the hell?” you whisper, body frozen and eyes wide. While you had been staring up, Matt had appeared directly behind you, and you find yourself leaning slightly into him, your back to his chest, one of his hands on your hip as if in effort to keep you still and upright. You’re grateful for the support, feeling slightly woozy from the sight and a racing mind trying to make sense of it all.

“Was that lightning?” Matt asks incredulously, the voice in your ear rough and sounding increasingly alarmed. “I didn’t hear a storm come in, but I felt the electricity. I don’t understand.”

“There isn’t a storm,” you respond in confirmation. The small motion of you shaking your head brushes lightly against the man standing behind you, the sound of your hair sliding against the suit jacket miniscule. “The sky got slightly darker, but there aren’t even any clouds out right now.”

Matt shifts so that he comes to stand at your side instead, though his hand on your hip doesn’t entirely disappear. “It’s so fucking bizarre,” he says as tilts his head upwards, facing a sky that’s under such chaos you’re unsure how it’ll ever seem normal again. “Everything about this is so…”

“Yeah,” you whisper in quiet agreement, because even without the words being said explicitly, you know what he’s trying to say. Your eyes drift back down, grimacing again at the scene of the street and the subway entrance that’s been all but erased by fallen concrete. “We probably should–”

Matt’s face turns from puzzlement into something grim, the weight of the next stage of the journey sliding back into the front of his mind. “Right.”

“Is it safe to leave?”

He cocks his head and frowns in concentration, the image of his intense focus making you shiver slightly, curious about what it would feel like to have his complete laser-like focus on you instead. But before you think on it further, he nods. “It’s safe. Let’s go.”

You find yourself trailing behind him again, though this time he stays closer, and the pace the two of you keep is similar to the first time. Fast enough that the journey shouldn’t take too long should no interruptions come, but not so fast that you’re at a huge risk for falling. You’re relatively clumsy by nature, unfortunately, and while you’ve mastered the art of walking leisurely in heels, this faster pace is much more difficult. He’s still there to help you regain your balance should you stumble, and you’ve long since stopped flushing every time you do, simply clutching at his forearms briefly before continuing to move forward.

There’s no room for heated cheeks in the end of the world, especially for a man who can’t see them anyway.

Every street corner you step off of, every block you walk through, looks exactly the same as the ones stretching out behind you. Scorched concrete and compounded cars, shattered windows and crumbling brick, devoid of life with the exception of the two of you. At one point, you swear you see a few faces looking down at you from the third floor of a brownstone, but Matt pulls you along swiftly enough that you flash your eyes back down to watch each step you take carefully, if only to keep you from tripping.

Each step you take seems to burn more and more, even while the overall movements blend together in your journey to the subway station. The two of you stay as close to the sides of the buildings as possible, if for nothing more than to be able to duck into a shop’s entrance should you need to. You’ve been keeping track of the street signs for obvious reasons, each green sign both taunting and encouraging you on, white lettering telling you you’re close while also reminding you just how far away you are.

Something crashes into a building somewhere blocks behind you, but you hardly have time to react or process the sound. Your mind is still focused on your feet, still focused on the fact that you’re halfway between 54th and 55th and therefore only two blocks away from the station, when Matt lurches to a complete stop for the second time today.

This time you’re unable to dip around him, having only been half a step behind him, and you crash straight into his back. His body doesn’t move an inch under the force alone, the collision of your body abrupt though otherwise unharmful. His form is seemingly glued and frozen to the ground, but he does shift slightly to help steady you. He lets go abruptly, hands falling limply to his sides, head turned to something across the street.

You move so that you’re in front of him, eyes drifting over his face in confusion. Just like before, his skin has lost most of its color, his black rectangular lenses and the blood on the side of his face a sharp, almost unwelcome contrast. His lips part as he takes in a deep breath, one that seems entirely too shaky for your liking.

“Matt?” you ask quietly, knowing he’ll hear the near whisper even above the sounds of the city. “What’s wrong? Do you hear something?”

He doesn’t answer your question, merely blurting out one of his own. “The building across the street. What–what does it look like?”

“What?”

“The building,” he repeats, the sound dry and in the beginning stages of something that’s bordering panic. “Is it—tell me what it looks like.”

Frowning, you turn so that you’re facing the street, even as you grab his hand and pull him closer to the building behind you, wanting to keep as close to the brick as possible and out of the way of something flying by. You’ve entered a block that seems to be made up of small shops and buildings that are only a few stories high, different from the towering office buildings that exist just a little further away. It’s an interesting little section of Hell’s Kitchen, seeming older than other parts of the neighborhood, but it’s no more or no less shaken up by the events of today.

Your eyes land on the building that sits directly across from you, taking in the fading paint and the cracked window. Eyeing the door that looks run down and its rusted hinges, you briefly think about what it might have looked like in its youth. It’s certainly nothing impressive as it is, and you wonder why it's caught his attention so suddenly, even if he’s unable to see it.

Your eyes drift back to Matt’s face. “You mean Fogwell’s?”

He nods, and the motion is so stiff, it’s almost like the muscles in his neck have lost the flexibility to move.

“I mean…it’s old,” you say honestly, turning your face back to the building, utterly bewildered at the conversation. “Could use some paint, but–”

“No, I mean…is it damaged? Still there, mostly intact? Or is it–” he asks, licking his lips, hands shaking at his side, his words rushed and seemingly difficult to force out, if the halting speech is anything to go by. Your mouth parts into an oh as you realize what he had been needing from you. “I can’t–I can’t be sure, and–”

“It’s fine, Matt,” you say gently, hating the look of panic that’s been crossing over his face, the expression pretty foreign on the man who has been practically dragging you to safety, spine made of steel and frame made of immovable stone. “There’s a crack in the window, and it looks like maybe a few bricks were knocked loose, but it’s there. Still standing.”

You’re unprepared for the way his body seems to sag in relief, and you let out a startled yelp as you wrap an arm around his shoulders. You push him into the wall you’ve been standing next to, hoping the brick will at least help you in your effort to keep him from tilting over. He lets the outside of the building keep him up, as you’d been hoping, resting his body weight against it and breathing harshly as his head tilts forward, mouth open as he takes in a gasping breath.

Shifting so that you’re standing in front of him rather than off to the side, you step as close as possible without plastering yourself to him, hands bracing against his shoulders should he tip forward. It’s like the fight has temporarily drained out of his body, nothing left but torn ligaments and bone, a heavy frame without muscle to keep it standing.

A shaky hand comes up to your side, fingers ghosting over the fabric, before he’s got the silk of your blouse wrapped in his hand. The warmth of his palm by your hip is almost startling, because while it continues to be a bright and warm spring day, nothing will ever compare to the heat of someone else’s skin pressed against yours, even from over the fabric of your shirt.

“You okay?” you ask after a moment, your eyes trailing over his face as his head shifts so that it’s now resting against the wall behind him. He nods in answer, tongue once again running itself over his bottom lip briefly. “Do you need a few moments?”

Matt shakes his head slowly, and you don’t miss the way his hand further tightens around the fabric at your side. “We should keep moving.”

“Sure,” you agree quietly. “But if you need a minute to just…we can stay for a few, Matt. We can just slide a few feet to the left, there’s an awning we can hang under to keep us out of sight.”

The man in front of you doesn’t move an inch, other than to take a deep, shuddering breath. Making an executive decision, you pull away slightly, moving your arms down from his shoulders to his upper arms to help pull him with you as you slide the three feet between open sky and the dark green awning.

He pants, though certainly not from physical exertion, and it makes you feel like whatever battle he’s fighting, or whatever he’s running from, solely exists in his mind, some sort of festering wound that’s been triggered by the block you’ve been walking down. You have a history of panic attacks, a history of your mind and body freezing to the point where no rational thought or movement can get out, so you’re well aware of what one feels like. You’re not necessarily used to seeing them on others, though, so it takes you a moment to figure out what’s going on.

The man has managed to keep himself together far better than you have since everything started, offering his hand and pulling you along like it had become his sole focus in life to keep you safe. You aren’t quite sure how to handle someone’s undivided attention, often shying away from the spotlight and those who might get too close, but even with all the chaos going on around you, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s taken your life in his hand, as if getting you through this is just as important to him as his own fate.

His shoulders have hardly wavered since you met him, and you’re not entirely surprised that something has finally managed to knock him over, even if only for a few minutes.

You’ve seen his anger and frustration and sadness, but you haven’t yet seen him mirror the same level of panic on his face that you know has been on yours the entire time. And while now certainly isn’t the best time to have a breakdown, exposed and on the sidewalk with nothing but cloth covering your heads, you don’t feel like it would be fair to ignore his panic when he has done nothing but try to soothe yours. He deserves every little piece of care and consideration he’s given you, and you want nothing more than to give it to him, regardless of how inconvenient.

Reaching up, mind resolved, you brush a lock of dark hair off of his forehead, careful to avoid the small gash that hasn’t yet stopped bleeding completely. “Hey,” you say, trying to draw his attention to you, but you can tell easily it doesn’t really work. His head stays tilted down, mouth parted, as his hand shakes lightly at your hip. “Matt. Matt.”

He shakes his head, and through the dark lenses of his glasses, you can see his eyes darting around wildly.

“Matt,” you try again as your hand trails down the side of his face. His skin is suddenly cool to the touch despite the heat outside, and you can’t help the way your eyes widen slightly in alarm. “The building is fine.”

“You–you promise?” His voice sounds so broken, so child-like, that it unsettles you.

“I promise.” You slide a finger under his chin to raise it up, but the movement must startle him because he jerks his face to the side with a gasp.

Unwilling to cause him any further distress, you bring your hand back down to his shoulder, hoping the pressure will both keep him standing while also grounding him. You’ve been through this before, a thousand different thoughts and fears racing through your mind, and sometimes the things that have brought you back are the most subtle ones. Wind on your face, a certain cloth or texture beneath your fingertips, really anything and everything to center your focus back to the present and out of your head.

Matt gradually pulls himself back together, and while in any other setting you may have wanted to give him more time to process, you know time is of the essence, so you don’t question or argue against his need to snap back. Whatever control he’s displayed since you met him creeps back into his features, but there’s a level of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before, one you get the impression he hasn’t shared with many others.

“You ok?” you ask quietly, watching as he slides back into himself more and more by the second, the panic slowly receding from his face and his breathing evening out.

“I’m…fine,” he responds, his voice barely a whisper before he clears his throat. “I’m good.”

You can’t help the way your hand reaches back up to brush a piece of hair back, noting with satisfaction the way his skin has regained some of its heat and color. He doesn’t shift away from the movement, so you allow your hand to linger for a second before falling back down.

You’re all too aware of how long panic can stick around, long after the physical symptoms have left, and you’re one hundred percent sure that whatever had just happened, whatever had left him so panicked, has a long history rooted somewhere inside his head.

“The building…does it mean something to you?”

The man nods reluctantly as he swallows. His head lifts so that it rests against the brick behind him, dark hair clashing with the red that’s been covered in a sheen of dust. “I…we should really get going, it’s not important.”

As if trying to prove his point about the building’s lack of value, he abruptly tries to push you back, ready to continue on with the trek up to 57th. The movement is gentle, despite its apparent urgency, but you press your hands back into his shoulders when he shifts to push off of the brick. Interestingly enough, he doesn’t really fight against you, simply allowing himself to fall back, as if he’s still struggling to regain some strength.

“Seems to me that might be pretty important, though.”

The face he gives you is extremely pained, mouth twisted into a frown that looks like he’s almost pleading with you not to say anything more. But when you don’t move from in front of him, he all but wilts again with a sigh. “I used to spend a lot of time there,” he says quietly after a few moments of hesitation. “It was important to me, important to my dad. I’d hate for it to just be…gone.”

The pain of losing a parent is something you can relate to, and the sad tilt of your mouth relays the ache you feel inside, though it’s an image no one is around to see. It’s been years since you last saw your mother smile, last heard her voice, and the loss is something a person never really heals from, despite the amount of time that’s passed.

You know exactly why the potential loss of this building hit him the way it did.

“It’s one of the last things you have of him.”

“...yeah.”

You twist your head to look back over your shoulder, eyeing the fading paint and the brick that has certainly seen better days. The building is in unassuming, almost an eyesore compared to the newer buildings on either side, but there’s a certain charm to it, despite the way its been run down by the decades it’s likely been there.

“I…with everything going on, I somehow skipped that we were going to run right by it,” Matt whispers, and you turn your head back around just in time for him to slide a hand down his face as he sighs in some sort of acceptance. “I’m glad to know it’s okay.”

You’re quiet for a moment before you open your mouth to respond. “When this is over, I’ll come back with you,” you tell him softly. You’re not quite sure what makes you offer it, nor are you sure why your hand lifts to his shoulder to rest gently on his cheek, but you refuse to resist both impulses. “When it’s all over, we’ll come back and I’ll describe every single brick for you.”

He stills.

Matt has barely moved since he collapsed against the wall in relief, just the slow instances of tangling his hand in your shirt and half-heartedly trying to continue the journey north, but somehow, this halting of movement is much more pronounced.

It seems like he isn’t breathing, the rise and fall of his chest stumbling to a stop, his eyes motionless and not flitting blindly over the street behind you. It’s dramatic, the stillness of his body, and it immediately makes you feel like you’ve overstepped.

You begin pulling back, eyes wide. “Sorry, we don’t have–”

“Yes.” The word is said so quietly, especially with the sounds of destruction and chaos in the background, but you feel like you hear all three letters said individually. “Yes. I’d…want that.”

“You’re…sure?”

“Yes,” he repeats, and you can’t describe how the brief moment of elation floods through you, because what is there to be elated about while the city that homes over a million people is destroyed around you? But it doesn’t stop you from having that moment, that one beautiful moment, or joy. He’s not saying yes to coming back here, or at least that’s not all he’s saying yes to.

In some weird, twisted way, you get the impression that maybe he's saying yes to…you.

In what capacity, you're not sure, but the idea is out there in the open, now. It's not the right time to talk about it, not while it feels like New York is crumbling all around you, but it doesn't stop the savage uptick in your heart.

“Okay,” you say, clearing your throat and ruining the moment intentionally because you know it’s time to continue the movement to 57th. You’ve only a few blocks to go, but they still feel like an entire lifetime away. “We should get going. Are you ready?”

He nods his head, hands suddenly settling on both your hips and pushing you backwards gently as he completely lifts himself off of the brick. Once he’s up, he still doesn’t increase the distance between you, so you’re left staring up at him slightly as he settles back to his full height.

Eyes trailing over the fact that’s slightly covered with dust and blood, you take a step back, watching as he rolls his neck. Something about his posture indicates that he’s ready to go, so you turn on your heel and start walking, knowing he’ll catch up and soon pass you. Before you can even make it three feet, Matt suddenly yanks you back, and with a surprised cry, you fall into him.

“Matt–”

“There’s someone in there,” is all he says as he steadies you, his head facing the buildings on the other side of the street, lips parted in confusion before settling in a hard line. “I can hear their heartbeat, they’re–they’re hurt.”

“Hear their heartbeat–”

And then Matt, who has hardly left your side since this all began, pushes you back against the wall and bolts across the street with nothing more than a “Stay there!” shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back!”

Stunned, you stare at his back as he makes his way around the abandoned cars and random bricks and concrete that’s been thrown onto the asphalt.

Heartbeat?

He can hear a heartbeat?

You’re frozen for just a few seconds longer, mind twisting this way and that, trying to take in, trying to understand this new tidbit of information he’s given you. But you don’t think there’s a way to even begin understanding what he’s said, not without a proper explanation on his end, so you rapidly shove it to the side.

“It’s…not the weirdest thing that’s happened today,” you say under your breath, and, as if on cue, a sudden ball of fire soars through the sky from a goddamn flying alien proves your point. The ground shudders and a not-so-distant building rumbles, the sound telling you that it’s just one or two fireballs away from crashing to the ground altogether.

The thought of being in or near a building when something falls is terrifying, the memory resurfacing of diving under the sink while the bookstore groaned around you, protected by nothing more than a slab of concrete and a hand covering your head. But the idea of not being at Matt’s side, the thought of going through any of this without him, is more terrifying, and so before he has even made it to the entrance of the Fogwell’s, you’re following behind him.

#matt murdock #Daredevil #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #battle of new york

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captainwaffles · 1 year

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Which one do you want to see in a museum exhibit

#captainwaffles #history #museum #battle of new york #battle of manhattan #pjo #mcu #marvel #harlem renaissance #renaissance

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antvnger · 2 years

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Oh hey, that’s a good comeback!! But how was I sup to know what he said? Yeah, I was technically at the Battle of New York, but I was nowhere around Fury!

#asks #anon asks #ask scott lang #scott lang #ant-man #nick fury #shield #battle of new york #ant man #antman

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waywardxrhea · 4 months

Text

Part Three - The Battle of New York

[slow burn romance between Steve Rogers and SHIELD agent Emma Baker]

Warnings: 18+, contains humor, fluff, mental health, family trauma, romance, angst, language, violence, (potentially smut later on).

installment list

Word count: 4.3k

The Battle of New York commences.

After sneaking away, Emma makes her way to the control hub where most of the other agents are stationed at computers with Maria at the center monitoring the ship while Fury is away. She stops to talk with another reporter for a few minutes before she plans on heading back to see if Captain Rogers had confronted Fury about the weapons.

Before heading to find the Captain, Emma walks up to where Maria is on the platform in the center of the room and asks quietly, "Hey Maria, can I ask you something real quick?" Her thinking is that maybe if she asks her nicely, she could get more answers than Cap could in his irate state with Fury.

"Yeah, what's up?" Maria asks while still keeping tabs on her screens.

"So I happened across something in a room down one of the halls and-" before she can finish her sentence though, the entire ship shakes and explosions can be seen near one of the engines of the ship.

Maria curses before telling Emma, "Let's continue this talk later, I have to figure out what the hell just attacked us." Emma holds onto the railing as announcements overhead call for all hands on deck. Maria looks at Emma and says, "You find someone and get a gun, whatever or whoever this is doesn't seem to be playing games."

"You got it," Emma replies. She then proceeds to follow a group of agents who are heading to the onboard armory to get weapons. Emma picks up a pistol and puts the safety on before tucking it into the waistband of her jeans and making her way back to the control room. If the fight gets there, the control agents would need to stay protected while they work and she plans on being the one to protect them.

After a few minutes, Fury reemerges at the control center and begins calling orders. As he looks at the damage to the ship, he says to Maria, "We need a full evac of the lower hangar bay."

"On it," she replies and motions for some agents to follow. She looks to Emma and says, "You too. We don't have time to sit around looking pretty, I need all hands on deck."

"Yes ma'am," Emma replies with a nod, following Maria and the other agents to the lower hangar bay.

Right as they begin walking though, something is thrown in their path. "Grenade!" Maria shouts, trying to dodge the blast.

Emma ducks behind a desk before the blast can get to her and she quickly crawls over to where Maria is on the ground, asking "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maria responds before peeking over the desk and seeing Fury about to get shot at. She quickly aims and shoots the attacker before he could get his shot off.

"Nice shooting," Emma comments as she stands up, taking the gun from her waistband in case there are more attackers on their heels.

Chaos then ensues as more attackers enter the area. Maria takes position behind some guard rails and shouts, "Praise my shot later, I need you to hold up that promise that you're a good shot!"

Emma nods before crouching behind the desk again and taking aim at anyone who is pointing a gun in their direction. Over the coms, Agent Coulson announces that the intruders had SHIELD armor on and that Thor and the Hulk were battling on one of the levels of the ship.

"Won't the Hulk tear this place apart?" Emma shouts in the direction of Maria and Fury.

Fury thinks for a second before telling Maria, "Get his attention." She nods and starts calling out orders for a distraction into her earpiece at once, trying to save as many lives on the carrier as possible.

After the problem of the Hulk is dealt with, the three of them plus a few other agents remain in the control room shooting at attackers when there is a series of more explosions. One hits near the desk Emma is crouched behind, knocking her to the ground. In the process, she loses grip on her gun and it goes flying across the room.

After regaining some of her senses from the blow, Emma spots her gun about ten feet away from her location. She looks around the room and sees where the explosions are coming from: the explosive arrows of Agent Clint Barton, one of the finest marksmen in the world and the man Emma had tried to track down after Loki mind-controlled him in Nevada.

"Shit," Emma whispers before waiting for him to reload. When he does, she seizes the opportunity to army crawl to her gun. As she begins her crawl though, Barton shoots a final arrow into one of the control panels which causes yet another engine to fail. The carrier begins to fall quickly due to the engine failure and Emma is catapulted to her gun. As she passes it, she grabs onto the handle and tucks herself into a ball to protect herself from the fall.

As the carrier descends and Barton dodges the heavy gunfire of the SHIELD agents, Fury shouts, "Barton is heading to the detention level! Someone needs to take him down."

Agent Romanoff answers the call as Fury takes his station once more as the ship falls. Emma gets up on her feet as an announcement overhead says, "All agents to their crash stations."

Emma makes her way to where Fury stands looking at the ship's stats grimly. "Agent, you can either continue the evac mission Hill started or you can get to a crash station. The choice is yours."

"I'll go to the hangar," she replies.

"Then get going, just down that hall there."

Emma nods and follows the direction Fury points as the ship slows its fall, the engines being fixed by some miracle it seems. She runs down the halls and finds the hangar bay filled with a dozen agents hiding as a ship flies off with Loki inside. "Are you all okay?" Emma asks, seeing their shaken expressions. No one says a word but they follow her to the control station where first aid is being administered to those who need it.

When Emma gets back with the other agents, she is shocked as she's informed of Agent Coulson's passing by the hand of Loki. Her shoulders slump in sorrow at the news and she gives a comforting hand to Maria as she listens on to Fury's conversation with Rogers and Stark about Coulson. She witnesses Fury throw bloodstained Captain America trading cards at Rogers and turns away quickly. After seeing this, she decides to help out with the tech reboot on the nearby computers, wanting a distraction from that gruesome image.

After getting some of the tech rebooted, Emma helps out with first aid to the injured until Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers approach her. She tightens a bandage on someone's wound to keep pressure on it and then stands up in their presence. "Captain, Agent," she says respectfully, sensing this is a serious matter.

"Baker," Romanoff replies. "Rogers and I along with a...recalibrated Barton are heading back to New York to stop Loki. I know Fury would benefit from footage of the capture, so we need you there for coverage."

Emma looks around, asking, "Does Fury know about this?"

Romanoff shakes her head, replying, "No, but it won't kill him. What do you say?"

"I'm in," she replies. "As long as I don't lose my job."

Romanoff shakes her head as she heads off, saying, "I wouldn't worry about that. I'd worry about surviving this first."

"Oh," Emma says, the slightest bit of fear creeping into her mind at the words.

"It'll be fine," Rogers reassures her. "When we get there, find a secure building where you won't get hurt and get all the footage you can. We need all eyes on the situation so video coverage will help us out."

"Got it," she responds, heading toward her station where her drone is. She dusts off a bit of rubble from it before grabbing her tablet and the drone.

When they meet up with Barton and get to the jet, one of the techs working on it says, "Hey, you guys aren't authorized to be in here."

Captain Rogers puts up a hand and says, "Son, just don't." Emma laughs quietly at the comment and the four of them settle into the jet for the ride to New York.

When they arrive in New York, Loki's army has already moved in. "What the hell..." Emma breathes as she watches the alien army blast their way through the streets. Already in his suit and on the battleground, Stark lines up a few of the invaders for Romanoff to shoot with the jet's gun before they land. Emma looks to Rogers and jokes, "Now which of these buildings looks safest?"

The joke doesn't earn a laugh though, and as she asks, Loki blasts a beam of energy into the jet, causing her to lurch and almost fall. Captain Rogers grabs a rail on the roof to balance himself and grabs Emma's arm to make sure she doesn't fall as the ship goes down.

They make a crash landing and Barton opens the rear door for them to all get out. Emma grabs the backpack that holds all of her equipment and steps into the sun, looking for a building that is tall enough and not being shot at. She quickly spots one about a block away and calls out, "I found my spot! If I see anything you guys can't I'll loop you in!"

Captain Rogers nods as Emma tightens the backpack on her shoulders and runs to the building. She jumps over debris from their crash landing and pushes through crowds heading in the opposite direction, away from the source of the alien invaders.

Emma gets into the building out of breath from her run and puts her hands on her knees for a few seconds to catch her breath before contemplating taking the stairs or elevator. She sees a frightened security guard by the elevator and calls out, "Does this thing still work?" He quickly nods and gives Emma access to the elevator which quickly shoots her up to the top floor where she will have access to the roof.

On the way up, Emma boots up her tablet and drone so she can be ready when she gets to the roof. Once out in the daylight again, she witnesses the battle raging on. Her eyes widen in fear as she sees flying right past her is a giant metal robot fish-looking creature. She freezes, not sure what to do as more aliens jump out of the being and onto the nearby buildings to begin attacking them and their occupants.

Instinctively, Emma darts behind an air conditioning unit on the building and hides from the soldiers. She lets the shock wear off for a few seconds before assessing the area around her. Upon realizing that the aliens hadn't landed on her roof yet, Emma regains her senses and starts using her drone. She turns on the camouflage mode and begins flying it into the battle, careful to avoid the invaders' blasts and flying vehicles.

Emma holds her position behind the AC unit as she watches what her drone is capturing on her tablet. Near Stark Towers, Emma sees Loki fall and land on one of the alien vehicles. She touches her finger to her headset and shouts, "I have eyes on Loki! Just flew past Stark Towers on one of those flying...things. He's with a group of about seven of them. My drone can't keep up with their speed."

She flies her drone as fast as it'll go and round the same corner Loki did but she's still far behind. When she turns the corner, she captures footage of Captain Rogers bus jumping while the buses explode beneath him. "Okay that was really cool..." she mutters to herself. After this, she turns the drone to capture the effort of Agent Barton rescuing citizens out of other buses and Agent Romanoff shooting off attackers to protect them.

Further down the street, she watches as a huge fleet of NYPD officers shielded by their cars shoot at the attackers in the air. Emma laughs to herself, wondering how much she could sell the footage to them for if they'd even give her the time of day after all these years.

After a minute more of Cap, Barton, and Romanoff fighting the creatures, a handful of lightning bolts shoot down from the sky and Thor lands on the street near the three of them. When he lands, Emma marvels at the footage she had captured of it but her attention is grabbed by the door to the roof bursting open revealing an alien with a weapon pointing directly at her.

From over the headset comes Captain Rogers' voice, asking, "Baker, what's the view from up there?"

Emma gets up and scrambles to put her drone in hover mode before dropping her tablet in the backpack. She throws the bag on her shoulders and begins running to hide from the creature. As she does this, she activates her headset and shouts, "Not the best time, Cap. Currently being chased by an alien!" After a brief chase, Emma winds up in a corner with the alien staring her down. As she breathes hard she glances over the side of the building to see if there was anything that could break her fall. When she spots nothing to aid her, she places her finger to her ear and announces, "He has me cornered. I don't have anywhere else to go."

A few seconds later without warning, Emma is suddenly swept off her feet. She lets out a scream of surprise and terror as she flies through the air in the arms of...someone. It takes her a few moments to relax and finally realize that it was just Thor who came to her rescue. He drops her off at Stark Tower and says, "Avoid the power source and try to stay hidden. You have no idea what you're up against, Lady Baker." Without another word, Thor flies off again to join the others in the fight.

Breathlessly, Emma says into her headset, "Give Thor my thanks." After regaining her footing, she runs to find a good place to view the battle while also being hidden from any aliens. Once in a secure spot, Emma then takes her tablet out of the backpack and takes control of the drone again.

From her position, she sees the giant creature from earlier a few blocks down and flies the drone to it so she can capture that footage. When the drone arrives, she sees Stark in an all-out battle with the beast, shooting a plethora of weapons and munitions at it trying to take it down.

Emma listens to the conversation being had between everyone on the headsets and follows Stark as he leads the beast toward the others who are still fighting in the streets. Due to the slower nature of her drone, Emma only captures the creature being stopped and starting to flip over from behind. When she finally catches up, dodging the beast's tail, she sees that it was the Hulk who stopped the creature from destroying the team. She smiles and whispers to herself, "There ya go Doc."

Once the massive beast is dealt with, the group circles up to fight the invaders that had gotten ready to surround them. While the drone is in camo mode still, Emma flies it around them to get the shot of unity before the battle commences again.

From her spot in Stark Towers, Emma spots more of the huge beasts coming out of the portal in the sky and says into her headset, "Uh guys...there's incoming. Massive incoming."

Captain Rogers starts telling the team their assignments for the mission before continuing the fight on the streets. Emma stays and captures footage of the Hulk tearing into the invaders before turning her drone in the direction Thor went to see him lighting up the Empire State Building.

The scene leaves Emma staring silently at the tablet screen in wonder, her mind almost incapable of registering what she was witnessing. Two weeks ago if anyone had told her she would be experiencing any of this Emma would have laughed it off and told them they were crazy. But life is crazy like that and here she is at the top of Stark Towers filming a huge battle for New York against aliens.

After watching Thor battle a squadron on Sixth, Emma locates Captain Rogers who launches Agent Romanoff into the air and onto the underside of one of the alien vehicles right as Emma's drone rounds the corner. She watches in amazement as the Captain fights off the invaders and then teams up with Stark as he flies in to aid in the fight.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma sees movement on the roof near the power source. Going against Thor's advice, she reaches for the gun she packed in her bag and grips it as she goes to see what the movement is.

As she approaches, she sees Doctor Selvig, the man who had been working with the Tesseract in Nevada when it was stolen. As far as Emma knows from the intel she was given, he was also under the mind control of Loki. As she approaches, she aims her gun at him and he raises his hands to show he means no harm. He studies her face for a second before asking, "You're...you're that SHIELD agent we met back in New Mexico aren't you? What was it? Nasser?"

Emma lowers the gun at the words, telling him, "Well my real last name is Baker, but I gave that one as my cover when I was down there working." Knowing that Loki never could have known that bit of information, she approaches Selvig to try and help him up but is startled when she sees Loki fall onto a nearby platform followed by the Hulk.

Emma quickly throws herself to the ground and out of sight of the pair and motions for the Doctor to follow suit. Neither dare say a word to each other out of fear of Loki finding them. After a few more moments, Agent Romanoff appears on the roof, approaching the power source to see if there was anything she could do to shut it down.

Doctor Selvig sees her and speaks up, saying, "The scepter...Loki's scepter. The energy. The Tesseract is the only thing that can break that forcefield... You can't do it yourself. This is all my fault..."

"It isn't your fault," Emma tells him.

Romanoff agrees, saying, "You didn't know what you were doing."

"I think I might have, actually. I built in a safety mechanism to cut their power source." The two women give him encouraging looks to fill them in and he does, saying, "The scepter will be the key to closing the portal," He looks down over the side of the building and continues, "And I'm looking right at it."

Agent Romanoff begins formulating a plan and as she does, she looks to Emma and says, "I've got this, you continue filming. Help the others as much as you can."

Emma nods before heading back to her post where she had left her tablet. She picks it up to see one of the huge beasts heading right to her drone. "Shit!" she curses before taking back control of the drone and getting it out of harm's way just in the nick of time.

She does a quick survey of the area surrounding the drone and watches as a group of ships begin to converge on the Hulk. She gets as close as possible within safety and films the encounter of mass destruction.

During this battle, Emma sees a popup message appear on her screen from Maria. The message reads: The Council has overridden Fury's command. They're sending a missile there right now. Tell Stark. It'll destroy everything and everyone.

Upon reading the message, Emma turns on her coms and shouts, "Stark! They're sending a missile!"

"You're about two seconds behind the Director man, Baker," he replies. "Devising a plan right now. You may want to get that drone on me near that portal, if this goes according to plan it'll be badass."

Emma sighs inwardly at the arrogance and replies, "I'm on it, Stark." She then proceeds to hold a position with a good view of the portal which still has alien invaders coming out of it. Is this army never ending? she thinks to herself as she watches the aliens continue to pour out.

"Incoming," Stark says with a grunt of effort. "You better get my good side if this is the end of me, Baker."

"Wouldn't dream of getting it wrong," Emma replies as he and the missile get closer and closer to the portal. She trains the camera on his ascent into the portal and watches as both him and the missile disappear into the gaping hole in the sky.

After a few tense seconds, all of the remaining invaders begin to power down and crash land onto the streets. Emma stands up from her hidden space to watch as they fall. She then stares at the portal waiting for Stark to fall out.

"Close it," Captain Rogers orders Agent Romanoff.

From the other side of the roof, Romanoff deals the final blow to the power source which shuts the portal down and it begins to close on itself. Emma is just about to close her eyes in shock at the loss of Stark but then sees him reappear on her tablet's screen right as she turns her eyes down.

"Oh my gosh..." she whispers and laughs to herself, "the crazy bastard made it!" She refocuses her drone's camera on his descent and films as Hulk jumps to save him from crashing to the ground.

After a few minutes, the team, the Avengers, make their way to Stark Towers to take Loki into custody together. After getting everything with Loki squared away, Captain Rogers announces, "I'm on my way to coordinate search and rescue."

Emma emerges from around the corner after a phone call with Maria and asks, "Can I offer any assistance? I do have my drone to have eyes in the sky. We can work a lot faster that way." Captain Rogers nods and tells her to follow him down to start the search.

Over the next few days, Emma has to undergo many, many interrogations about her involvement in the Battle and have every single second of footage she captured under keen eyes to get every bit of intelligence they could out of it.

One day when she's being questioned by one of the councilwomen, Emma is asked if she knows the whereabouts of any of the Avengers. In response, she replies, "Unfortunately, I do not, no ma'am. I frankly have not been in contact with anyone besides members of the Council and my grandmother in the past few days because of interrogations like this going on for hours on end."

This response earns a look from the woman and she tells her, "I understand that you've been under a lot of stress lately Miss Baker, but that doesn't mean you get to have a tone with me."

Emma straightens her back and replies, "You're right, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." She clears her throat before saying, "But really you can check my phone records and see that it's only been business calls and calls to my Grammie to assure her that I'm okay. She's in a home you see and she saw on the news what happened and has just been worried sick. On top of that because of all of this interviewing and interrogating and everything I haven't gotten any sleep and-"

The woman puts her hand up and stops Emma, telling her, "I can tell you are not up for any of this right now Miss Baker. Take a day and get some rest. We'll have you back to your regular job at SHIELD soon enough."

"Well before all of this, my job was helping Captain Rogers acclimate to this world and considering Council and him aren't in the best graces right now I'm assuming that means reporting again?"

"That's exactly what that means Miss Baker. You'll start reporting on cleanup and the impact of the battle on Monday. Until then you are dismissed, thank you."

Emma nods and stands, saying, "Thank you, madam."

As she leaves the building and gets into her car, she gets a call from an unknown number. She answers with a cautious and exhausted, "Hello?"

"Agent Baker," comes a voice from the other side. The voice belongs to Captain Rogers.

Emma shuts her car door and replies, "Captain Rogers. It's good to hear a familiar voice."

Rogers nods before saying, "So I went out on the road for a little bit while things in the city clear up, but when things settle down, I hear you're the girl who knows her way around town. I think I may need some help navigating it all."

Emma smiles and replies, "I'd be honored. I'll give this number a call when everything here is back in working order. Since we probably won't be able to meet at SHIELD is my place okay? I have an apartment in Brooklyn with an amazing view. I can start catching you up on everything you missed out on while you were on the ice."

"I'm looking forward to it," he replies.

"I'll talk with you soon, Captain."

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