"Were you trying to read last night?" Alex asked, looking at the book Achilles had left on the coffee table.

"Oh. Yeah."

Alex hummed. "Didn't know you read fiction."

"I haven't actually read it." Achilles said.

Alex raised an eyebrow.

"I... Used to know the author." Achilles said.

Alex nodded. "Well, we should get going."

"The surprise?"

"Indeed."

~~~

"Dubois! Glad you could make it." A cheery Agent greeted them when they made it to his office in the archaeology department. "And who's this?"

"Achilles Bane. And you are?" Achilles asked, shaking the man's hand.

"Thomas Schott." The man answered. "You're a legend."

Achilles shrugged.

"Well, let's show you what we got." Schott said, leading them further into his workspace. "I've managed to keep my research under the big radar. Which gave me the space and time to actually figure out what this thing is."

"And what is it?" Achilles asked.

"A sword." Schott grinned. "A sword with Asgardian blood on it."

Achilles' eyebrows shot up. "An Asgardian weapon?"

"Yeah. With how old it is- Earth wasn't that advanced back then. And the style is very... Off, for that time." Schott said. "Other than that, it's nothing fancy. What makes me curious, besides the obvious things, is why you're interested in it?"

"It's personal." Achilles said. 

Schott narrowed his eyes, before gesturing to a table. "There it is." 

The sword was a grey color, reminiscent of old metal. The blade alone was three feet long, and the center had a line of intricate designs that reminded Achilles of vikings. The hilt was another ten inches, and the guard was also decorated in curling knots. It would have been considered long even for a longsword.

"It's not very impressive. I've done some tests on it, and as weird as it sounds, I don't think it would have been able to actually harm an Asgardian. It's just not tough enough." Schott said. "My guess, it's a religious blade. Something creepy."

No, that didn't seem right to Achilles. For some reason... It just didn't add up. Without really meaning to, he reached forward and grabbed the hilt.

At the same time as Schott sputtered protest, the sword seemed to come alive. Achilles felt the dormant magic wake, shedding layers of dirt and millennia of sleep. The hilt and guard turned to gold, the runes and designs gaining even more detail. Achilles couldn't tell what the metal of the blade was, as it glowed like fire. Flames seemed to dance around, wispy and ghost-like, gleaming in shades of red and gold.

Schott and Alex jumped back in surprise. Achilles didn't move at all, overwhelmed by the magic that he felt from the blade.

"What the hell-"

"Eugene?"

Achilles stared at the blade. He managed to push away the daze. By then he felt a tickle at his nose that usually accompanied the Mist when it's intervention became active.

Achilles looked over at Schott, and used the Mist. "Someone made a mistake. You only found a piece of old metal." Schott's eyes glazed over.

Achilles set the blade down, and when it wasn't in contact with the Devourer, the flames faded away, leaving the metal of the blade looking white. Achilles took a second, and managed to find a long piece of cloth, and wrapped the blade in it. Achilles looked back at the two mortals.

Schott's eyes were still glazed over, as if he wasn't seeing anything at all. Alex however, was watching Achilles with wide eyes.

"I think we should go." Achilles said to him.

Alex nodded. With one hand between his shoulder blades, Achilles led Alex out of the workspace. Alex seemed to snap back to himself, and grabbed Achilles' arm to pull him into an unoccupied office. This seemed to be a conference room.

"What just happened?" Alex asked.

"You just saw a magical weapon." Achilles said.

Alex exhaled a long breath. "I know you believed in magic, but this is a bit [extreme.]"

Achilles winced. "Actually, this is pretty tame compared to other stuff."

Alex's face would have been comical in a different situation. "What other stuff?"

Again, Achilles winced. "I can't tell you."

Alex pressed his lips together, forming a thin line. "Why?"

"I can't tell you that either." 

Alex pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. "You told me you had a demon. Do you... Do you think this can kill it?"

Achilles looked at the wrapped sword in his hand, and swallowed. "I don't know."

"[I thought it was a metaphor.]" Alex said, falling into French. "[I knew you had a thing for mythology... That's why I thought you'd like this. But now you've kind of stolen something. I'm not even going to ask what that, whatever that was with Schott.]"

Achilles didn't say anything.

Alex took a shaky breath. "[You should go back to work. I need to gather my thoughts. And then we need to have a talk.]"

"[Okay.]" Achilles said, and walked out. Alex set his head on the table, his face hidden by his arms. 

 Achilles walked down the hall and past other Agents. He fell into his Agent mode as soon as he was in Shield territory: Straight back, set shoulders, long stride, and he didn't hold back his resting brooding face. Angel told him it had only gotten more intimidating since the exile.

He was so distracted that he almost didn't notice Steve.

"Oh, Achilles."

"Steve. Didn't expect to see you here." Achilles blinked.

"Yeah, I didn't think I would be here either. Natasha thought she'd be funny, though, so here I am." Steve said.

"What'd she do?" Achilles asked.

"Told me 'You'd fit in around here' and sent the... Address, I guess, for this department."

Achilles snorted. They were in the archaeology department.

"Yeah, yeah. I know I'm old." Steve said.

"Well, where are you headed now?" Achilles.

"Back to Stark's tower." Steve said. "You?"

"Same, actually." Achilles said. 

"Are you flying or driving?" Steve asked.

"Driving. I love my bike." Achilles said. 

"You have a bike?" Steve's eyebrows shot up. "I do too. Are you heading out soon?"

"Yeah. Actually on my way out now." Achilles said.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Nah, it'd actually be nice to have a little company." Achilles said.

~~~

Achilles managed to get the sword situated in one of the bags on his bike. Even though he wasn't physically holding it, he still felt the weight of it. Something about that blade called to him.

If, by some chance, the blade was strong enough, he still had to decide who his 'demon' was. Did he hope the blade could kill a god? Multiple gods?

Was it powerful enough to kill a young Devourer? He still had time before he'd become immortal, invulnerable. If he didn't die soon, he'd never die. And living forever was a cursed existence.

~~~

For the next week, Achilles never stopped moving. He was constantly doing something. Working out, researching, getting a few hours of sleep, cooking, baking, working out, researching, nap, shower, research, food, workout...

The others were concerned. He insisted he was fine. They didn't believe him. Even if he sat down to watch a movie, they could tell his mind was elsewhere, that he was itching to do something else. There were times where he would space out randomly, even mid-conversation.

~~~

Achilles had no idea what Fury thought would happen with this newest mission. He hadn't really worked with Natasha before. Not on an actual job. He guessed Fury really had meant that he wanted to get the Banes working with the Avengers.

The air was thick with smoke from cigars, and high quality cigarettes. The air had a sharp tinge to it that accompanied alcohol. Achilles' gaze slipped past the women in form-fitting dresses and low necklines, and instead did a mental tally of who and how many people could have hidden weaponry. Seeing everyone else, Achilles felt out of his element. 

Natasha was impressed with how well Achilles was adapting to this new environment. They had known about this mission ahead of time, and Achilles had had enough time to let stubble grow out. Combined with his natural brooding face, Achilles looked a good few years older than he actually was. The marine blue suit and crimson tie only added to his aura.

Natasha's black silk one-piece pantsuit got her a second glance from the other guests, but her seemingly small stature next to Achilles had her blending in again. Especially the way Achilles had offered her his arm, allowing her to be seen as dainty.

Achilles leaned down to whisper a question. "I forgot to ask earlier, but do you speak French?"

"[I do.]" Natasha replied, using the language in question.

"[Do you think the majority here would?]" Achilles asked.

Natasha took a look around, as if appreciating the view. "[No.]"

Achilles nodded. Leading the way to the closest waitstaff, he grinned a troublemaker smirk. "Excuse me, I was hoping you could give me a bit of direction. I'm looking for Mr. Valentine."

The waitstaff looked between Achilles and Natasha, before pointing casually. "Down the hall. Got a heart above the door."

"Thank you." Achilles said, and began walking. 

Natasha sighed. 

"Something wrong?" Achilles asked.

"Many things. Nothing that harms us at this moment, though." Natasha said.

"Talk about it later?"

"No need to."

"Okay." Achilles said.

The door in question was flanked by two guards. "Business?"

"Looking for Mr. Valentine." Achilles said, looking every bit like he belonged, with a troublemaker smirk, bad-boy stubble, and a dark quality to his sea-green eyes.

It almost unnerved Natasha, seeing the difference between this man and the one who wore Nemo pajama pants.

"We have an appointment." Achilles added, stressing the 'we'.

The guard tapped on an earpiece, and exchanged a few words before opening the door and letting them inside. Once they were seated across from Valentine, Achilles instead set his hand at Natasha's back, out of view of the others.

"Ah, Christopher Boone, Isn't it?" Valentine asked. "And your lady Anastasia?"

Achilles nodded, looking relaxed. "That's right."

From there, Achilles just supported Natasha. This wasn't his kind of rodeo. He used his extra sense to help tell if someone was lying, and when he caught a lie he would give a single finger tap to tell Natasha so she could compare with her own skills. It did unnerve Achilles how easily Natasha lied. But he did his part. 

They had nearly finished what they came for when things went downhill after a lackey went up to Valentine, and showed him a tablet screen. The lackey left, and Valentine leaned back in his seat. "So, Mr. Boone. I do believe you have some experience with my empire."

"I don't recall." Achilles frowned.

Valentine showed them the tablet screen, picturing Achilles drenched in blood, Creed in hand. Achilles' veins went cold. Several guns found targets, though only two were aimed at Natasha, the rest at Achilles. "[They don't know who you are.]" Achilles said in French under his breath, hoping it sounded like a curse.

Instantly, Natasha adapted. 'Anastasia' seemed to blink away the shock, and fear became prominent on her face. "Chris?" 

"Oh? The lady didn't know?" Valentine chuckled. "Oh, sweetheart. Looks like your boyfriend's a murderer."

'Anastasia' turned wide eyes to Achilles, leaning away from him. "He's... Lying, right?"

Achilles didn't answer, instead glaring at Valentine. What the actual hell was Shield thinking, sending him into another mission with a group he'd already gone against? And they hadn't thought to warn him beforehand?

Valentine waved for a couple lackeys to pull Natasha from her seat, which she weakly 'struggled' against. "What are you doing? What is going on- let me go!" The lackeys pulled her back, toward the outskirts of the room.

"So." Valentine turned to Achilles. "I think you'll be accompanying me on a ride."

Achilles only glared.

"Danny, take the lady, Mike and Dallas, take him." Valentine said. "Let's get this show in the air."

Achilles let them pull him along by his arms, while 'Anastasia' stumbled along. By himself, Achilles could take them. But he didn't want Natasha to get shot, and she didn't currently have any firearms on her person. It would be better to get them in smaller groups. For now, that meant playing along.

"Thought you were tougher than this." The guy on his left said.

"Probably worried about his chick." The guy on his other side said. Oh, how Achilles wanted to punch him for that comment. 

Unfortunately, instead of the crowd thinning, the news that the guy who had practically slaughtered a branch of their company had spread and brought the crowd. That meant that Natasha and Achilles both got loaded into the helicopter.

"Where are you taking us?" Natasha asked, in a frightened 'Anastasia' voice.

"We are taking him back to our center of operations, where we will make sure he pays for what he's done. He did kill a lot of my friends." Valentine said. "You, though, are just insurance to make sure he plays nice."

A minute after that, Achilles and Natasha shared a brief look, and understood the new plan. Natasha seemed to curl in upon herself, and used that opportunity to keep track of where they were and what they passed. To anyone else, it looked like she couldn't see anything, but Achilles knew better. 

By then, they had scrounged up a blindfold in addition to handcuffs, and took away his sight. It wasn't pleasant, but it didn't concern Achilles. Achilles tolerated the annoyance of a gun barrel at the back of his skull until Natasha gave him a signal to do something otherwise.

"How much longer?" 'Anastasia' asked a while later, looking nauseous. "I don't feel too well."

"Almost there." Danny said, pitying her.

"Alright." Natasha said. "I think this is far enough."

Immediately, they began to fight. Achilles relied entirely upon his 'sixth' sense to tell what was going on. The fight was going rather well, considering. Then the helicopter tipped to the side, and Achilles fell.

'Seeing' with his sense wasn't nearly as helpful falling through air. There wasn't any objects to give a shape to anything. And he was falling. 

He was falling. 

He was falling. He couldn't see, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. He was falling.

And then something crashed into him, and his bearings(what little of them he had at the moment) were lost. 

"Hey, kid, I got you. You're good."

He still couldn't think.

After a minute, or eternity, the metal holding him shifted, and he felt the ground underneath him. He realized he'd lost the blindfold, and then he felt the cuffs break and fall off his wrists. He was kneeling, one hand bracing against a brick wall, the other against the pavement below.

"Achilles?" 

Achilles lost his balance, and fell back on his ass. His eyes seemed to be flicking from place to place, and yet unfocused. 

"Sir, it would seem that Achilles is experiencing-"

"A panic attack." Tony said. "Look, kid, breathe, breathe."

Achilles flinched when a metal hand set on his shoulder, and his eyes snapped up to see Tony with the visor up to show his face.

"C'mon, breathe. Breathe, you got this." Tony said, and then reached for Achilles tie, undoing it. "That's not helping you, ciao tie. There you go." 

Achilles managed to, but it wasn't easy. Not with the pounding in his chest, or the phantom wind in his ears. When he did come back to himself, for the most part, he cursed profusely, still evening out his breath.

"Natasha-"

"It's okay. She's flying the chopper." Tony said.

After a second, Achilles nodded, and Tony helped him up to his feet. Later, when Achilles was fully back to himself, he'd be thankful that Tony had been backup.

A/N

I was so excited for the plot twist last chapter, oh man. 

Anyway, I had a thought. Just out of curiosity, what do you think about Ash/Pietro? I feel like it would either work really well, or not at all. No in-between.