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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ᴡᴀʀ

❝ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴠᴇɴɢᴇʀs ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ? ❞

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AGENTS STEPPED OUT OF YOUR PATH, uneasy looks on their faces, as you charged through S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. The scowl on your face warned them that you were not at all in a particularly friendly mood; and if that didn't ward them off, you were certain that the tiny specks of ice flying from your hands did.

To say that you were angry was an understatement - you were fuming. It had been almost four months since you had committed to being Captain America's guide to the modern world, and what a glorious handful of months it had been.

No imminent threats of world-wide destruction, no Nazi organisations trying to kill anyone... just uninterrupted, normal-life stuff.

And then last night happened.

You had just gotten home to your temporary apartment in New York after grabbing a pizza and soda with Steve when you got the call. A half hour later you were on a flight to Washington and now, four hours later, you were rushing to meet with The Director.

Meeting Thor had been a viscous ordeal - one that you had not been looking forward to repeating. So to hear that now - barely even a half year later - the other Odinson brother on was earth, (with hostile intentions, nonetheless) brought nothing but chaos to your already bruised and fragile mind.

Loki was trouble. Any folklore book could inform you of that fact. But what those books could not inform you of, was the God of Mischief's malicious intent to bring about destruction to your home planet, as well as his action of mind-controlling and subsequently kidnapping three of your friends. So yes, you were utterly furious. You'd already been through enough traumas to last you a lifetime, and this was most definitely not what you'd signed up for.

"None of us signed up for this, but unfortunately, that's just our life and we're gonna have to deal with it," your godfather deadpanned, giving you a no-nonsense look as he tried to push you out of the way.

Grinding your teeth, you clenched your fists and watched him as he walked off. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you ran after him, slowing down to match his pace once you caught up.

"Aaron's glasses have a built-in tracking chip that Agent Weekes set up," you reminded in a hopeful tone, "If we can track it-"

"I already have Agent Weekes on tracking," Fury jumped in, "All tracking systems on Doctor Ross, Doctor Selvig and Agent Barton are inactive."

The Director came to a halt and turned to you with a sympathetic look. "I know that this is hard for you. Personal. But we'll find them, and we'll fix this. I just need you to calm down enough for you to help me do that."

Fighting the urge to scream, cry, yell, or all of the above, you shut your eyes and nodded. Sighing, you clenched and unclenched your fists once.

"Okay."

"Okay," Fury nodded before opening the door to the analytical room and gesturing for you to follow him. "I ever tell you about The Avengers Initiative?"

"No," you frowned, walking further into the room, "What is it?"

"To summarise," Fury tilted his head as his fingers worked on one of the touchscreens attached to the giant monitors adorning the walls, "There was an idea, to bring together a group of remarkable people - all with invaluable abilities - to help us fight the battles that we never could."

"Superheroes?" you creased your brow, watching as files began opening on the monitors, spewing a collage of video footage and biographies across the screens.

"Depends on your definition," Fury answered, watching you as you looked over the information, "In essence, yes. But while some have specialised abilities..."

You looked at the footage of Thor fighting in New Mexico, and of Steve in the war.

"...others are simply, like I said, remarkable."

Your gaze travelled to videos of Agents Romanoff and Barton and...

Brendon.

Something in your facial expression must have changed, because The Director immediately reached out to squeeze your shoulder in reassurance.

"He was actually one of the first candidates," Fury said after a moment, referring to your bodyguard.

Clearing your throat, you changed the subject slightly, not wanting to dwell on Brendon; you were just starting to feel better, and speaking about him would not help with that.

"So there's seven candidates?" you asked, doing a quick count of the faces onscreen.

Fury cocked his head side to side before pressing one more button, causing footage of you to pop up over the others.

"Eight."

A small smile crept its way onto your face; you couldn't help but feel honoured. Fury gave one too.

"That's assuming you'd be on board with it?" he checked, but he already knew the answer.

"Hell fucking yes."

With a soft chuckle, your godfather gently guided you towards the door. "Alright, out. I gotta hold a conference with the World Security Council."

You exited the analytical room and let your body lean against the opposite wall, watching through the glass in the door as The Director stood facing the several large monitors.

"This is out of line, Director," one of them shook their head, "You're dealing with forces you can't control."

"You ever been in a war, Councilman?" Fury sassed with an arch of the brow. "Did you feel an overabundance of control?"

"You saying that this Asgard has declared war on our planet?"

Fury shook his head. "Not Asgard. Loki."

"He can't be working alone," a councilwoman piped up, "What about the other one? His brother."

The Director shot a quick glance at you through the glass before refocusing on the monitors. "Our intelligence says Thor is not a hostile. But he's worlds away; we can't depend on him to help. It's up to us."

"Which is why you should be focusing on phase 2. It was designed for exactly-"

"Phase 2 isn't ready," Fury asserted, shutting them down, "Our enemy is. We need a response team."

"The Avengers Initiative was shut down."

"This isn't about The Avengers," Fury shot back.

"We're running the world's greatest security network and you're gonna leave the fate of the human race to a handful of freaks."

"I'm not leaving anything to anyone. We need a response team. These people may be isolated, unbalanced even, but I believe that with the right push they can be exactly what we need."

"You believe?" the councilwoman scoffed.

"War isn't won by sentiment, Director," the councilman added.

"No," Fury straightened up, "It's won by soldiers."

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A gym. Brooklyn, New York.

Somewhere in the city, in an old, almost WWII-esque boxing gym, Captain Steve Rogers was pummelling a punching bag. With every vicious swing, it was as if he was trying to fight off and repress a memory.

Flashbacks from his life in the 1940s had tortured him ever since he'd woken up at the S.H.I.E.L.D warehouse, and despite efforts from you, he was unable to get them to stop.

So he worked on punching bags. His rage kept building each time his fist hit the bag and Steve closed his eyes, going at the bag harder.

Opening his eyes, the soldier delivered one more solid punch that tore the bag open, ripping it off its chain and spilling the sand out. He stood, breathing hard, letting out seventy years of overly repressed feelings.

After taking a few breathers, Steve picked up another punching bag, which was lying on the ground next to another dozen bags. Hooking the bag up, he started to punch again, as you and The Director walked into the gym.

"Trouble sleeping?" Fury asked,

Steve barely glanced in your direction as he answered. "I slept for seventy years, sir. I think I've had my fill."

"Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world."

Steve stopped punching and walked over to the bench, unravelling the tape off his hands and sitting down. He looked at you for the first time since you got there.

"My tour guide abandoned me."

"Your tour guide had more pressing issues to deal with," you shot back, raising one brow and folding your arms.

Steve nodded in understanding. "You're here with a mission."

"We are," Fury confirmed.

"Trying to get me back in the world?"

"Trying to save it," you corrected, stepping forward to hand Steve a file on the Tesseract, along with other files on Hydra's projects.

Steve skimmed over the information quietly. Then, "Who took it from you?"

"He's called Loki," you answered, "He's... not from here."

Fury looked at you in amusement for a brief moment, then refocused on the soldier. "There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know."

Steve scoffed. "At this point, I doubt anything would surprise me."

"Ten bucks says you're wrong," Fury said. "There's a debriefing package waiting for you back at your apartment."

Steve turned and picked up a punching bag, nodding in goodbye and starting to walk out of the gym.

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