May 15, 2014

Luke Cage

Luke stared out the glass window from the corner of his eye as some pedestrians walked past. When they were out of his sight, he sighed.

"You know, you keep staring out at all of my prospective customers, I might regret having ya here," a voice said behind him. Luke smiled and turned to the speaker.

The place he'd chosen to hide in was a barbershop. A famous one in fact, at least in Harlem. Pop's Barber Shop had mint green walls, red chairs in front of the right wall, and mirrors. A simple store, but one that had gained fame in the neighborhood. Not because it was expensive or fancy, but because it was a good place. Warmth filled the shop like the sunlight pouring in through the windows. And the owner of the shop was relaxing in one of the barber chairs. He wore a cap on his head and a black polo shirt displaying the shop's logo. He was smiling slightly at Luke, teeth flashing, his dark skin glistening just a bit in the light.

"If having us over is a problem, Pop-" Luke began to say.

"No, no, don't start with that," Pop shook his head. "I'm just playing around. I know you did the right thing. And I don't want to seem patronizing, but I'm proud of you both."

Luke had a moment of irritation that quickly faded. It was slightly annoying for some reason, being complimented for something that made for more trouble than it solved. But Pop's had his respect and knowing he approved helped somewhat.

"You still over there?" Jessica said then, drawing their attention. The short powerhouse had her arms crossed as she eyed Luke from the door leading to the back. "Thought you'd get tired of glaring at the street."

"Pretty sure you were just glaring at the wall a few seconds ago," Luke teased.

Jessica scowled at him. "Yeah, well, I got bored of it. We need to plan how we're dealing with this shit."

Pop coughed. When Jessica looked at him, he gestured toward a yellow can resting on a drawer next to him. In big black letters on masking tape were two words. 'Swear Jar.'

"Are you fucking serious?" Jessica asked, looking positively shocked.

"As a heart attack," Pop chuckled. "I have kids in here sometimes, ma'am. I need to keep a certain kind of atmosphere."

Jessica glared at him for a long moment. Pop's only response to that glare was a placid and gentle look in his eyes.

"Goddamn it," Jessica reached for her wallet. "What is it, a dollar each?"

"Which puts you at three," he agreed.

Luke chuckled. He quickly looked away when Jessica turned to glare at him. She was a hardass, but a big softie too. He liked that about her.

"So, we have a plan?" Luke said.

"Kind of," Jessica sat down in another of the barber chairs. "So far it's been weirdly quiet. I can only look for so much since my laptop got exploded, but the news isn't exploding like I thought it would."

"You think someone would keep it a secret?" Luke asked, moving to lean against the wall across from Jessica and Pop's, crossing his arms.

"I think that with BRIDGE floating above New York all the time cops in the city know they can pawn the crazy shi-" she cut herself off and glared again at Pop's who grinned. Looking as though it physically hurt her to do so, she changed her sentence. "The crazy stuff. Like some guy stealing rocket launchers and using them to blow up half of Hell's Kitchen while trying to kill two superhumans."

"I'm just amazed that the two of you found each other," Pop said, sounding almost awed. "Reva always said you were strong. Must feel good to know you aren't alone."

It did. It really did.

Jessica seemed uncomfortable at the mention of Reva for some reason, because her next sentence came a little faster. "We can probably hide for at least a couple of days, but we'll need to move if we don't want people chasing us. Unless you're planning on getting signed up with the Avengers."

Luke looked at her. "..."

Jessica frowned. "Unless that's what you're trying to do?"

"Not-" he stopped to think. "I got a letter a while back. Came from someone who knew my secret. They didn't have the full details but they wanted to meet me to talk. Said their name was Mahmoud."

Pop frowned. "Why does that sound familiar?"

Jessica stared at Luke. "The Avenger. Dial."

Luke nodded. "I didn't know that at the time. I was suspicious of it. But when nothing followed I figured it was nothing. Then he shows up on the news, the Rio Quake hit… since then I've been wondering what he wanted."

"I got a letter from him too," Jessica said.

Luke, Pop, and Jessica sat in silence for just a moment, Pop looking between the two superhumans. "So, if he knows your secret…"

"We need to move," Jessica said. "If he knows about you-"

"He doesn't know about this place," Luke immediately said. "I only know about Pop thanks to Reva," again, she looked uncomfortable for some reason. "And no one would connect me to this place. We're safe."

"But the young lady is right," Pop said. "You can't stay here forever. I can ask some of my old friends, see if they can help you hide. But is that even what you both want?"

Jessica scoffed. "Like hell. I have enough problems right now without making everyone else's mine too."

"I can't blame you," Luke shrugged. "But I have to admit… Saving those people was the first time I've felt complete in a long time."

------

Mahmoud Schahed/Dial

Jen, Creel, Izzy, and I were out for shawarma on the advice of Tony, who had suggested it when he heard that Creel and I wanted to hang out. It was good advice, considering that shawarma in New York, among the many foods it's vendors were famous for making, was supposed to be excellent.

Of course, we decided to make a day of it but had to modify our plans to fit around one thing.

"Guys," Jen said as she pouted on the rooftop next to me. "Seriously, I don't mind going in with you. I don't care what people think."

"Same here," Izzy agreed, my fellow Avenger grinning up at Jen. "But you know we'd be surrounded by paparazzi the second you showed up, and I want to get food, not eye damage from camera flashes."

"Not like you two are any less inconspicuous," Jen grumbled. "Creel is made of muscle and you're built like a Greek goddess."

Izzy scoffed. "So are you. But I'm not green."

Jen huffed.

"Come on, Carl," Izzy took Creel by the arm and pulled him away. My large friend gave me a weak smile.

All I could do was shrug, feeling much the same fond exasperation he did.

As they left the rooftop, I moved off to stand on the edge of the roof. Several stories in the air, we had a pretty good view of the city. I took a moment to drink in the view. Not so much the smell, since New York City is New York City, but few things could beat the look of the town.

"Taking one last look before you head to dinotown?" Jen asked me as she walked up to stand beside me.

"Kinda," I looked up at her. "I mean, I know I asked to head out, but I thought there would be more time. Now I leave almost immediately."

"You can just say no," Jen pointed out.

I looked up at her with a grin. "Are you kidding? It's got dinosaurs! I've dreamed of this since my dad brought the VHS tape for Jurassic Park home!"

Jen grinned, her green eyes flashing. "Yeah, that's fair. When you put it that way I feel kinda jealous."

"Sorry you have a trial that day," I said as sympathetically as I could. "But hey, I can punch a t-rex for ya if you want."

"You wanna piss off PETA like that?" Jen teased.

"First, fuck PETA," I growled. "They kill more animals than they save. Second, I really do wish you were coming. It's been fun hanging out with ya."

"You massive softie," Jen reached her arm out and hooked it into mine. "Bring me back a dino egg, okay?"

"...To eat or hatch?" I asked with a look at her.

"Depends on how cool it is," Jen answered without missing a step. "If you bring in something boring like a hadrosaurus I'd rather eat it," she chuckled at the look of surprise I gave her. "Bruce and I used to love dinosaurs. Seriously, bring me a souvenir."

"I will," I looked back out at the city with a smile.

"...Be careful," she said softly.

Wait, what? "Of course I'll be careful. I mean, all I have to do is protect the science team with Creel and Bobbi."

"Mahmoud, have you ever had a mission go according to routine?" Jen asked me.

"We took down that Whitehall guy from HYDRA pretty quick."

"Yeah, and every other mission since?" she replied.

I opened my mouth. Then I thought back. Oh. She was right. Pretty much every mission I'd ever been on had ended up having some sort of complication. I'd thought it was normal, to be honest. What comic book mission goes according to plan? Hell, wasn't there a saying that no plan survives first contact with the enemy?

But most of my missions ended up going more than a little sideways. And the thought of the Savage Land was worrying. No matter what, even people like Spider-Man and Captain Marvel, both superhuman, ended up crash landing, or losing their memories, or something. Oh, and don't forget the loincloths. I'd gained a lot of confidence in my body lately thanks to my new increases in muscle mass, but not enough to run around a jungle wearing a buttflap. For one thing, I didn't want to run the risk that Frankenstrike would end up wearing it too…

"Okay, that is fair," I said at last. "I won't pretend my missions haven't been…" I winced. "Eventful. But I'll be careful. I'll do everything I can to come back safe."

"That still doesn't keep me from worrying," Jen said with a shake of her head. "You're pretty fragile when that watch isn't on," she said while tapping at the Omnitrix.

"I'm a lot tougher than I was before you met me. I've got catom armor, a good sword, and some good training. Besides which, like you said, I have the Omnitrix. The one-stop-shop for every problem a person could ever have. I might not be fine in that jungle, but I'll be safe."

Jen still looked worried.

"Hey, I'm gonna be leaving in two days but that's plenty of time for us to hang out. And to meet your dad."

Which I was honestly nervous about. The older Walters had been in the tower since yesterday. I had yet to meet him and today was supposed to be the day, right after we grabbed him food. I wasn't sure what he would think of me. I mean, I was probably one of the many things he'd be iffy about. Since getting kidnapped, Jen had gained new powers, changed cities, became a superhero, and started dating. Anyone of those alone would have made a good dad worry, at varying levels. I think me dating her was just above changing cities and below getting superpowers, with becoming a superhero being number one.

"He's gonna like you," Jen said while gently jostling me. "You're a superhero, remember?"

"Nah. He's a smart man. He knows no one is good enough for ya," I grinned up at her. "I'm just glad you picked me."

She smiled back and leaned down to meet me in the middle, wrapping me up as we kissed.

When Creel and Izzy came back a few minutes later, both looked a bit harried. Jen and I separated to look over at them.

"Uh, hey," I said. "You guys okay?"

Izzy huffed. "Oh yeah, we're fiiiine. Except that I underestimated how famous I was. Seriously, you two were making out up here while I had to deal with horny idiots?"

"What happened?" Jen asked with a wide grin.

"To be fair, no one was horny," Creel said. "But we did get recognized. We're lucky we got the food," Creel raised a bag to display it. "Where do you guys want to eat?"

"Somewhere with a dope ass view," I said without hesitation. "Anyone know a good spot?"

We all looked at each other. Then at the waters in the distance, where a green statue could be seen poking out of the ocean.

"..."

I think we all had the same grins on our faces.

------

So if you're wondering what led to dozens of photos on social media of four people sitting on the crown of the Statue of Liberty while eating, there ya go.

I met Jen's dad right after we ate. Jen led me to the rec room, where the senior Walters was waiting at the bar. He was leaning against it with a cup of dark alcohol in a glass in his hand, wearing a black leather jacket over a red shirt. I'd already seen a photo of him standing next to Jen at her graduation, so I wasn't surprised to see he looked like Burt Reynolds.

Whoever was doing the casting of this universe, they were excellent at it. He looked like Burt Reynolds in his fifties. Dignified, but still half a second from punching someone if they said the wrong thing. He had a bit of a beer gut, but his arms were clearly strong. When he looked up at us, his smile at Jen was wide and warm. When he looked at me it lessened just a bit.

"Dad!" Jen walked up to her dad and leaned down to wrap him in a hug, kissing the top of his head. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her as well. "How's the tower been treating you?"

"Pretty damn good, actually," Mr. Walters said warmly. "Once I got used to the robots, Norse gods, and Russian bears walking around."

"Mikhail is more temporary than the others if we're being fair," I said without thinking. Jen and her dad separated for the man to give me a good long look. I'd chosen to forgo one of my merchandise shirts for a plaid button-up in preparation for this meeting. I was still wearing jeans since I'd guessed that while coming in as my nerdy self wouldn't impress, looking like Tony would be even worse. Morris Walters had struck me as a very practical man. And as epically expensive as Tony's business suits were, they were not practical. Even the ones with wifi. Especially the ones with wifi actually.

I wasn't sure if I'd guessed right or not, but at least he hadn't pulled out a shotgun from his pocket as I stepped up to him.

"Dad, this is Mahmoud," Jen said, pulling me closer with an arm around my back. "I told you about him, remember?"

"Yep," he said while still looking me up and down. He held out a hand to shake, which I took. I tried to shake it just like Steve or Thor would. I don't know what it was, but those two had damn masculine handshakes. If a handshake could be masculine.

Was my palm sweaty? Oh god, please don't let my palm be sweaty.

"...You're bigger than the pictures from the Triskelion battle. Been putting on muscle?"

I, uh, hadn't been expecting that. "Y-Yeah! I've been training since then. Trying to get better at the whole superhero thing."

His lips twitched at the word 'superhero'. "That so?"

"Yes sir," I said with a nod. "I'm doing my best so far."

He smiled at that. I don't know if he was amused or what, but he finally let go of my hand. "Good. Jen tells me you're Californian as well."

"Yes, sir. Born and raised in the Bay Area."

He chuckled. "No need to call me sir. I'm just a sheriff."

I shook my head. "I'm pretty sure if I didn't call you sir that Captain America would have me running laps for being disrespectful."

He laughed this time. Do you know that Burt Reynolds laugh? You can probably hear it in one of his movies, a kind of 'Haha Haaa!' It was oddly cool sounding.

"No worries. Just tell me, how did you start the whole 'superhero' gig?"

I started talking without thinking. "Mostly traveling around the city at night stopping crime that I found."

"...So you were a vigilante then?" he asked.

"Uhhhhh," I looked at Jen, who was wincing, then at Mr. Walters, who was scowling just a bit. "Technically? Well, no, not just technically. Yes, I was a vigilante," I said, at last deciding to bite the bullet. "I was trying to help people and I didn't want to reveal my powers in case someone would want to stick me in a lab."

"So without training, without any legal power, you went out and started punching people in the face," Mr. Walters said with the finality of a judge making his sentence.

We stared at each other for a long moment. Long enough for me to straighten my back. "Yeah. That's what I did."

He scowled. "You know if you were in my jurisdiction-"

"We aren't though," I told him. "And if I'm honest, I don't regret going out those nights. I know it was illegal but I still helped people. People who could have been dead if I hadn't been there."

"Or you could have caused more damage," he pointed out. "I've seen those aliens of yours. You could have killed someone going out like you did. Throw a fireball at the wrong moment and you melt someone's chest open."

Jen was silent. I think she just wanted to listen. I wasn't sure.

"Look, sir. Going out as a vigilante was… well, it wasn't smart. But I wanted to use this thing to help people and I did. It wasn't legal. In fact, even if I wasn't an Avenger, I'd probably still be doing it," unsurprisingly that didn't seem to endear me to him. "I'm not going to lie to you, sir. That's why I'm telling you all this. I won't pretend I'm remorseful, or like I joined the Avengers and help BRIDGE as a penance for something I did wrong. I have a lot of respect for cops and for the law. But there were a lot of times I had to step in so I could keep people alive."

He leaned back against the bar and sipped at it. Then he looked over at Jen. "What about you?"

"I'm pretty sure no one is about to arrest him, if that's what you're asking," Jen said evenly. She lifted a bottle from the bar's shelf and opened it, taking a big swig.

Her dad huffed. "Not what I meant, Sweetie. I mean that you used to be against this kind of thing."

"...I still am," she said with some trepidation.

I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about that. Jen took another swig from the bottle in her hand. She wiped her lips when some of the whiskey dripped on her chin.

"But he did good work then. Same with the stuff we do now," she shrugged. "It's not right, but I can forgive it."

"I can't," Mr. Walters said. He was glaring at me. I straightened and looked back at him.

He wasn't wrong. I wasn't above the law after all. But I wasn't backing down either.

"Well at least you're being upfront with me," he grumbled. He sighed and straightened his back, wincing slightly. "Not much I can do about it, with BRIDGE now backing you up. And I can't deny you've done good work."

"So has Jen," I looked over at her. "She's way more badass than I am, balancing the lawyer and superhero stuff."

She gave me a pleased look. I tried to stop the dopey grin that grew on my face. Mr. Walters shook his head. "I'll let the big wigs in the government take care of it," he didn't seem satisfied with it. I could tell it would still be on his mind. He wasn't about to attack me. But I doubted I had his approval.

The rest of our conversation was pretty stiff. I consoled myself with the thought that no dad likes his daughter dating.

------

Vasily Karpov

Vasily wasn't a stupid man. One didn't rise through the ranks of the Russian Military and HYDRA without being somewhat intelligent. Even now, living in Cleveland, he still maintained a level of vigilance, knowing that he had to be careful.

He never left his house for anything but shopping for the absolute essentials. He avoided any social media. No friends, no guests. Not even a TV in the living room. He disappeared in that small neighborhood in Cleveland. And because he was smart and careful, no one ever found him. Even when HYDRA fell, he found himself feeling slightly smug when he managed to avoid the fallout.

It was that same intelligence that was leading him to believe someone was watching him. More than that. Someone was intruding on his life.

First, his landlord had apparently hit a windfall, because he suddenly left for the Bahamas, bragging about selling his business for a massive amount of money. Vasily had been a bit worried about that since he didn't want to suddenly get evicted or something. But nothing happened.

Then, someone had done some work on the cable and power of the building. He'd done a sweep of his house for bugs or cameras out of habit. But even when he found nothing, he knew someone was watching him.

But nothing happened. He lived his life normally, no one attacked. But the tension continued to rise… with nothing. Nothing for a long time.

Eventually, he began to relax. He'd been wrong. No one was coming for him and he was safe.

He continued his life as normal. He only left home to shop, stayed away from contacting anyone, and managed to at last relax.

He came into his house after grabbing some milk, bread, and meat from the story on May the fifteenth, feeling at last relaxed. He entered his kitchen, placed the food away, then entered his living room.

Tony Stark was sitting on his couch.

The former HYDRA commander stared at him. Tony Stark was leaned back with his arms out and one leg crossed over the other, looking for all the world like a king on his throne. He had a neutral expression on his face that was very different from the smug look he often had on camera. It reminded the commander of a judge to pronounce a sentence.

Vasily's eyes looked over at the stack of newspapers near the door where he had left his gun. Nothing. Stark whistled, drawing his attention.

Stark reached into his suit jacket and pulled out Vasily's missing pistol, resting it on the table. "You know, if you're gonna have a gun ready for intruders. Maybe not leave it out in the open," before Vasily could move, Stark reached into his jacket again. One, two, three times. Three pistols of various makes and models soon rested beside the first. "These ones were better hidden though, so kudos there."

Vasily raised a hand. Behind Tony Stark, something stepped forward from the shadows as though unfolding. An android of some sort. Wearing a simple butler suit.

The appearance of such an outlandish thing kept Vasily still long enough for the butler robot to walk around the couch and hand Stark a glass of something green. "Thanks, Jarvis," Stark said, as though a robot in a butler suit handing him a drink was a part of everyday life. It may have been.

"Now, Vasily Karpov," Stark sipped his drink before looking Vasily in the eyes. "You killed my parents."

Vasily didn't deny it. The robot's eyes glowed an eerie blue. Vasily tried to figure a way out. Maybe he could crash through the window, land in his front yard. Disappear in the streets-

"Stop," Stark swirled his drink while still eyeing Vasily. "You aren't going to escape. I have suits surrounding the house, BRIDGE officers on standby, and Jarvis ready to blow your legs off. So stop."

Vasily stilled.

"Oh good! You're not running. Then let me break this down for you," Stark uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, placing his drink on the table. "I knew who you were for weeks. A good friend of mine told me about you before we attacked the Triskelion."

For that long!?

"W-Why-?"

"Did I leave you till now?" Stark asked. Stark chuckled. "Because you aren't important."

He couldn't have said anything more shocking if he'd tried.

Stark smirked, though the expression was somehow vicious. "I admit, having the chance to be able to take your skin off you and add it to my next armor is giving me all sorts of tingles. But you're… well, pathetic. Didn't really need to come in guns blazing… You killed my mom. My dad."

"It was not personal," Vasily said.

"Bullshit," Stark said harshly, finally losing his composure. "It's all personal to someone. So don't try and pull that with me."

Vasily shook his head. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because you're done," Stark chugged his drink. "I have the evidence of your work before you left HYDRA, including the shady crap while you were pretending to be a loyal Russian soldier. I also have a formerly amnesiac super-soldier who is very pissed off and willing to testify. And then there's that box in your wall that I found."

Vasily stared at Stark, feeling the world fall out from under him. He felt like throwing up. It was over. After years of dedicated loneliness, of living in near poverty for the express purpose of avoiding being caught-

"I know, right?" Stark was grinning cruelly. "You've been living in the crapper for all this time. And your ass is still going to jail! How great is that? I even have my friend Mikhail ready to take you to Russia."

Vasily felt the sweat drip down his brow.

"Oh yeah, Russian prison. Sounds fun," Stark said with a grin.

Too much. Vasily was ready to die for HYDRA. And that was better than being a Russian traitor in a military prison.

Vasily leaped for the pistols on the table in front of Stark, trying to be as far away from Jarvis as he could. This brought him closer to Stark, but that was no problem. Stark had no armor and thus was not a threat. He could grab the pistol, kill Stark, then let the robot kill him, keeping from having to endure the horrors of prison!

"Hail, HYDR-!" Vasily began to cry.

Stark stood from his seat in a smooth and fast move. Vasily's hand came nowhere near the pistol before knuckles hit him in the jaw. An explosion of pain blinded Vasily as he flew back. Experience told him the blow had landed at just the right point and with enough force to dislocate his jaw. He hit the wall behind him and tried to rush Stark again with a straight cross.

Stark swayed back to avoid the blow, then uppercut Vasily in the armpit in a cheap boxing move, following with another punch to the jaw that Vasily felt shatter a tooth. Only his discipline kept him from screeching instinctively at the splintering pain.

Vasily, desperate and in pain, tried to reach out for the pistol again. Stark scoffed. "Pathetic."

Metal entered his hand. Vasily raised the pistol in a shaking grip. Hope filled him when he realized that nothing was stopping him. Stark didn't move an inch when Vasily pointed at the billionaire's chest and pulled the trigger.

'Click!'

The hope in his breast was crushed to ash. Vasily stared at the son of Howard and Maria Stark with despair in his eyes.

"That is just wonderful to see," Stark smirked. "Mikhail, he's all yours."

The roof split open in a shower of wood shattering into splinters. Hundreds of pounds of fur landed in front of Vasily. The HYDRA operative looked up into dozens of white flashing teeth within the mouth of some combination of grizzly bear and man.

"Vasily," the massive bear growled. "The Russian government wishes to speak with you."

Vasily shook his head. "Just take me in already, please!"

Stark smirked. "Ah, submission. A second favorite of futile resistance," he raised a pair of handcuffs. "Get ready for the gulag buddy."

"We don't have those anymore," Mikhail growled.

Stark placed the handcuffs on Vasily, raising him up. "That's disappointing."

"Do not worry. We will simply be creative."

Vasily whimpered quietly to himself. He was beginning to regret having the Stark's assassinated. He had a feeling he'd regret a lot more very soon.