Chapter 30: Home Sweet home
Clark sighed in relief when he entered his building, happy to finally be back at his home. It's not as if he didn't enjoy Asgard, but his brief vacation was pretty much ruined by the threat of destruction of the universe and things like that tended to get tiresome pretty fast. Add in that fact all the people that died, the destruction and the fight and he almost felt as if it was the second coming of the Kryptonian invasion.
But at least things were settled now and he could, finally, rest a bit.
Distracted, he got out of the elevator, tuned out the loud noises of New York City's evening, and made his way through the corridor, stopping right in front of his door to grab his keys; that's when he finally realized something was wrong. Someone was in his apartment, he could hear them, and unless Jessica had broken into his place with a bunch of electric tools he was pretty sure she wasn't the one to blame.
Alarmed, Clark quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door. What greeted him was not the peaceful environment he was hoping for.
Men in bright orange uniforms were running around his apartment, carrying every type of tools, breaking what seemed to be every single inch of his place. The floor had simply been removed, the walls were full of holes, the ceiling had exposed wiring. His furniture was nowhere to be seen. And the dust… So much dust, everywhere, to the point he needed his Kryptonian vision to be able to actually see through it.
What the actual fu—
"Hey, you can't come in here!" one of the working men said, noticing him by the door, speaking in a thick Russian accent.
That snapped Clark out of his daze.
"This is my apartment!" he exclaimed. "Who are you people?!"
The man stopped to hammer his wall for a second to look at him. Then he grabbed a piece of paper from his pocket.
"Are you Mr… Kunt?"
"Kent! Clark Kent!"
"Oh! Then I'm supposed to pass you a message. Let's see…" He began to look into his pockets again and Clark sighed in frustration, still unable to stop staring at the men destroying his apartment. "Here!"
He gave Clark the note.
"I'm at Trish's and your stuff is with me. J.J."
That was it; he even turned the note to see if there was something on the back, but no. No explanation about what those people were doing in his apartment, no reason why his place was being torn apart, absolutely nothing. Typical Jessica.
"Hey, who are you people and what are you doing here?" Clark asked the man who gave him the note.
"Renovation," the man answered, starting to hammer the wall again.
Clark's eye twitched. "Let me rephrase that… Who is paying you to do this?"
"Boss Stark," he mumbled.
And suddenly, it all made sense; which said a lot about the person responsible for this, because nothing about this should make any sense. Tony was pretty much the only person he knew with no personal barriers whatsoever. He could just imagine him visiting his apartment while he was on Asgard and deciding on a whim that it needed some renovation. And the result was this.
"Tony Stark told you to do this?" Clark asked. The man nodded. "He is paying you?" He nodded again. "How long it will take?" This time, he shrugged; Clark's eye twitched again. "Make an educated guess."
"A week? Two months to finish the whole building."
If Tony wasn't still in London, Clark would have some very special words for him.
Jessica Jones was eating a bowl of cereal, barely listening to Trish's huge TV, while trying unsuccessfully to check her e-mails. Her hand was already trembling with barely controlled rage as she typed her password for the 10th time.
Wrong password.
For a second there, Clark's notebook was in serious risk of flying through the window, but she managed to contain her first impulse. How could it be wrong? She had exactly one password for every single account she ever created in her life, taking into consideration certain changes demanded from site to site, but they were all basically the same. And now this thing was telling her it was wrong?!
Breathing deeply, she forced herself to calm down. It wasn't a big deal, there was no reason to lose her cool, all she had to do was change the password. Which was what she proceeded to do, very aware that her cereal was turning into a homogeneous paste while she was forced to waste her time. But there was no way around it, not when the stupid account wouldn't accept her password. So she changed it to her default password, the one she had already tried for ten consecutive times.
New password can't be the same as the old password.
That's when Clark's notebook flew through the window. She didn't mean to do it, it was like her arm moved by itself, but the thing was already airborne when the rational part of her mind realized what she did; and how much it would cost her to buy Clark another notebook. Jessica jumped towards the window in a futile attempt to try to save the damn thing, several curses leaving her mouth as she did it.
"Son of a b–AHHHH!" Jessica yelled, jumping back, when Clark appeared out of nowhere and entered through the window.
Clark Kent in the flesh, holding his own tossed notebook in his hands and with a very upset expression on his face.
"Shit, thank god you grabbed it!" Jessica exclaimed, relieved, then she punched his chest. "And don't scare people like that, you asshole!"
He looked very slowly at what he was holding and then back at her.
"Dare I ask why my notebook was falling from the 15th floor?" he questioned, putting the computer safely back on the table.
"Look, it wasn't my fault, okay?" she defended herself, knowing very well it really was.
"Is Trish home?" he asked, also knowing very well that she wasn't.
"No..."
"Then I'm pretty sure it is," he concluded, feigning a smile at her. "But let's put this away for a second and talk about something a little more important. Like: what the hell is going on with my apartment?!"
Oh, that. She knew there was a reason Clark was in a bad mood.
"Look, it wasn't my fault, okay?" she said, again, realizing she was just repeating herself when the words were already out of her mouth.
"Was Trish at my home?" Clark asked, ironically, and she punched him again.
"It was that asshole's fault, Stark!" Jessica exclaimed. "He broke into your apartment the day you traveled and next thing I know he bought the building and a lot of guys are just breaking everything!"
"Just like that?" Clark asked.
"Yeah!" Jessica confirmed.
"And you had absolutely nothing to do with his decision to do that?" he inquired.
"Of course not!" she denied.
"He just couldn't be stopped?" he pressed.
"When I realized what was happening it was already too late," Jessica defended herself.
"Hummm… So then why is your apartment also being renovated by Stark?"
Jessica just stared at him for a long minute.
"Look, it wasn't my fault, okay?!"
Clark just sighed, dropping on the chair. "Jessica, I don't have a place to stay! You know that!"
"You can stay here, Trish wouldn't mind," she offered, knowing very well her sister would be thrilled at her invitation; on another hand, maybe that wasn't a good idea after all.
"And I'm sure Tony would let me stay at the Avengers Tower too, but, come on, Jessica, you can't just throw me out of my own home like that!"
"First off, Stark was the one who threw you out," she corrected him, grabbing her bowl of cereal and tossing the disgusting paste in the sink. "I just managed to throw myself out from my own apartment, when I convinced him to renovate my apartment as well, but he was dead set on renovating yours. And second… Clark, our apartments were garbage. I know it, you know it, the upstairs neighbors who could see it through the hole in your ceiling know it. If Stark is willing to pay for it, hell, let the guy have his fun!"
He considered her words for a second, then he sighed again, nodding, no doubt recognizing her superior arguments.
"But you should have warned me first."
He just had to have the last word, didn't he?
Jessica felt her old anger riled her up. "And how exactly should I have done that? You said you were leaving in a few days, you said you were going to keep me posted! Surprise, surprise, next thing I know you are already on Asgard! And then there is that."
She grabbed the remote and changed the channel, going back to the news; the real source of her crankiness that day. The images on the TV, recorded with a series of different smartphones and pieced together by the news channel, showed a bunch of portals opening in London's sky. It also showed Thor, Superman and the Avengers fighting against yet another alien force, a fight that ended up with Clark unconscious, a hell of a lot of broken things, but thank god, with victory for the earthlings.
"We are back with John Jonah Jameson," said the newswoman, her voice grating on Jessica's nerves. "Mr. Jameson, what is your opinion on the Avengers statement that this was not in fact an invasion, but just a prison breakout on Asgard?"
"What is my opinion? This is hogwash, that's my opinion! The Avengers are a menace! But you know what really is a menace? Aliens! This is the third large scale invasion against our planet and yet, we are apparently happy in having more aliens living among us! Thor, Superman, that big green monster that my sources guarantee it can only be a Martian… They are menaces and they have to be dealt with!"
"But weren't they the ones who saved our world all three times?"
"If it weren't for them, there would be no invasion! No more, I say! It's time for us upstanding citizens to put an end to this! No more illegal aliens, no more Avengers, no more!"
Jessica turned the TV off and looked at Clark, pure murder in her eyes; Clark flinched.
"Now, tell me, buddy, when exactly should I have warned you that Stark was renovating your apartment? When you left to Asgard without telling me, even though you said you would? When you were doing who knows what on some planet out there? Or when you came back to fight another invasion and almost got yourself killed?"
Clark sighed and looked down.
"Okay, that's my fault, I admit that," he said. "But I had good reasons! Jane, that's Thor's girlfriend, needed help. A parasitic alien artifact got in her and we had to find a way to take it out before she died. And then one thing led to another and the Dark Elves attacked, trying to destroy the universe so they could bring back theirs."
Jessica wouldn't pretend she understood what Clark was trying to say, but by the look of things he did have good reason. Not that it mattered, she was pissed anyway. Jessica had exactly two friends and one of them was her sister; she couldn't just shake the worrying feeling that filled her when Clark put himself in those situations. And she didn't like that one bit.
"So that story about an Asgardian prison breakout?" she asked.
Clark's expression could only be interpreted as a politer way to say "fucking bullshit".
"Like I said, this was serious," Clark replied, looking more tired than she ever remembered seeing him. "When I said those guys were trying to end the universe, I meant literally." He sighed. "We were lucky to stop them in time."
Well, his day was apparently a bit busier than hers, Jessica realized. And the universe almost ended while she watched TV drinking cheap beer… If that didn't put things in her life into perspective, she didn't know what would. Shaking her head to dispel the unpleasant feeling, Jessica grabbed the cereal box.
"Want some?" she asked and Clark shrugged.
She filled two bows and sat down on the sofa, turning the TV on again, but changing channels quickly; something about J. J. Jameson made her want to punch stuff.
"So you're staying here tonight?" Jessica asked as Clark sat by her side.
"Nah, I think I'll go see Ma tonight," he answered, eating his cereal. "She must be worried."
Jessica had forgotten Superman was a mama's boy.
"Where is Trish?" he asked.
"Where do you think? The moment that ship appeared in London she ran to the station for an emergency broadcast of 'Trish Talk'. You know, one of these days she is going to annoy you for an interview."
Clark smiled. "What, she is going to go to the roof of the station's building, smoke a cigarette and meet Superman there?"
"Or, you know, you could call her," Jessica suggested. "Half of the interviews she does are done like that."
"I'll think about it."
They stayed in silence after that, as Jessica changed channels to find something decent to watch. She would never admit it, but she missed this. It was one thing to stay in silence alone, it was another thing completely different to share a comfortable silence with someone else. People tended to annoy Jessica, always did, but Clark somehow made her relax; maybe that was why she broke into his apartment so much.
"Thor and Steve are coming to New York tomorrow night," Clark said, suddenly. "I invited them to go out, drink a couple of beers or something. Want to come?"
She honestly thought she had misheard him.
"When you say 'Thor and Steve', you mean the God of Thunder and Captain America?" she asked.
"How many people you know called Thor and Steve?" Clark asked, chuckling.
"Well, I really don't know any Thor, but I'm pretty sure I know some Steves," she answered. "But never mind that. Clark, how exactly are you doing this?!"
He frowned. "Doing what?"
Jessica rubbed her temples. "Let me put it like this… Every day when you go out wearing a pair of glasses and nobody recognizes you, a portion of my trust and respect for humanity dies," she said, dramatically, and Clark rolled his eyes. "But there is no way that a guy, that kinda looks like Superman wearing glasses, is going out with a guy who vaguely remembers Captain America and another dude that sort of looks like Thor and nobody is going to notice. It's just not gonna happen!"
Clark seemed to be considering that for the first time; then, he shrugged. "We'll work something out."
Jessica sighed, exasperated. "Fine, I'll go, just to laugh when this blows up in your face."
"That's the spirit!" he joked. "I think I have some spare pairs of glasses somewhere, maybe they can wear them."
She gave him the finger, going back to eating her cereal. She flipped through she channels for a while, but nothing good was on, so Jessica glanced at Trish's DVD piles.
"You're going to Smallville now or do you want to watch some Firefly?" she asked.
Clark thought for a bit.
"Let's watch Firefly."
In ancient times, people believed the heavens were filled with gods and monsters and magical worlds. Then, as time passed, those beliefs faded into myth and folklore. But now they knew the stories were true. All the worlds with names like Asgard do exist. And beings once revered as gods, like Thor, had returned, leaving humanity with more questions.
And an enormous mess to clean up.
Nobody on Earth understood that better than agent Phillip J. Coulson, or simply Phil Coulson to friends. He had seen with his own eyes the destruction Thor and the Destroyer left behind in New Mexico. He'd seen up close and personal the devastation Loki caused, being able to count himself amongst the God of Mischief's victims. And while he was not in New York when the Kryptonians invaded, he had seen what was left of the parts of town affected by the Black Zero Event and, after that, all the destruction caused by Superman and Zod.
While the destruction in the Old Royal Naval College at London was but a shadow of those other incidents, it was, nevertheless, a giant mess that SHIELD would have to clean up. The reason for that was simple: alien technology. The place was filled with remains of it. Energy rifles, grenades that created singularities, pieces or even entire sets of armor, remains of crashed ships, even some dead Dark Elves. Nothing could stay behind.
A single piece of that advanced technology in the wrong hands could be catastrophic. Those weapons were more powerful than anything they had on Earth, the very material they were made of was already something they couldn't replicate. That's not to say of the technology found on the crashed ships. The big one had been taken to Asgard, thankfully, but the remains of the ones they dropped in the battle stayed behind and any part of them was worth a lot; the metal of their hulls, their engines, their weapons, their fuel, their cloaking device, the very programing language of the ship's computers… Nothing like that could ever be allowed to fall into the hands of SHIELD's enemies. And they were here to guarantee that it wouldn't.
Coulson pulled out from his thoughts when agent Grant Ward turned a whole box of debris on the floor.
"Don't say I never gave you anything," he joked, as Leo Fitz, one of his team's scientists, approached to scan it.
"Checking for alien spectrographic signatures one teeny rock at a time…" Fitz sighed, his thick Scottish accent permeating every word.
"Necessary precaution," Ward explained, before Coulson could. "We don't want anything alien getting in the wrong hands."
Exactly, Coulson mentally agreed, allowing his team to continue their work.
"Still, this is definitely the type of work a monkey could easily do," Fitz complained.
Ward just smirked. "You're our little monkey."
Not the words Coulson would have used to explain the necessity of their job, but it would do. Sometimes he missed working in the main leagues, side by side with the Avengers, but he knew the job he and his team were doing was just as important, if not as flashy. Scanning pieces of rock might be boring, but at least it was safe.
No one ever got impaled by a magical spear wielded by the God of Mischief while scanning rocks.
Unconsciously, Coulson rubbed the point where the blade had pierced him, vividly recalling that day as if it were yesterday. It was a blink of an eye and he was down; and he would have stayed down if not for Fury and Project T.A.H.I.T.I, a project based on alien technology that could heal even the most serious of injuries; a project so secret, that he, a living proof that it worked, had to conceal his "resurrection" even from the Avengers.
The prices he paid for being a secret agent… Compartmentalization, that should be SHIELD's key word. Everybody knew exactly what they need to know and nothing else. Paranoid, perhaps, but when dealing with the things they usually dealt with, Coulson could definitely understand.
Leo Fitz could complain all he wanted, but maybe the next tiny rock he scanned revealed the secrets for another SHIELD project that would eventually save someone's life. Not that he would know about it, if he ever did.
"You know, Coulson, you guys may think it's old news, but it's new… news to everybody else," Skye quipped, passing behind him with a bunch of debris on her arms. "So, Asgardians are aliens from another planet that visited us thousands of years ago–"
"Or more," Coulson added, following her.
"–And because we couldn't understand aliens, we thought they were gods?" she finished.
"That's where our Norse mythology comes from," Coulson agreed. "Complete with Asgardians, giants and elves."
"Wow, that's too crazy! Do you think other deities are aliens too? I mean, take Superman, I would totally worship him if I didn't know any better!"
His young, very young, protégé… Still thinking with hormones most of the time. Coulson had complete faith in his new addition to the team, her hacking skills were incredible and, more important than anything, she was brave and willing to learn. He would still make a proper agent of her yet.
It didn't mean he enjoyed the way her conversations sometimes went.
"I'm just saying, alien or not, I wouldn't mind praying to him a bit, you know?" she added, smiling dreamingly.
"I don't want to know," Coulson deadpanned, then sighed when he saw the amount of debris still left unanalyzed. "It'd be nice if, for once, Thor and his people sent down the 'God of Cleaning Up After Yourself'. They probably have a magic broom for this kind of thing."
"I just wished they'd left their alien ship behind," Skye said.
"So we can clean that up too?" Melinda May asked, stopping by their side.
That was a pragmatic view Coulson could share. Melinda May, his old friend and second in command, definitely understood something dangerous when she saw it; being "something dangerous" herself, maybe she had a healthier point of view than Skye's happy naivety.
"So we could go inside, take a peak under the hood, maybe take it for a spin!" Skye explained, excitedly. "Come on, you're telling me piloting an alien ship isn't on your bucket list?!"
He rolled his eyes. "I can't think of a single time when anything alien in human hands ended well."
His healing aside, that was very true. But by the little smile on Skye's face, he'd failed to get his point across.
"I wouldn't mind getting my human hands on Superman," she said, happily. "And Thor! Preferably at the same time." She sighed. "They are so dreamy…"
Coulson rolled his eyes again.
"Sure, they may be handsome, but–"
"No," Melinda interrupted, "they are dreamy," she said in her no-nonsense tone that left no room for further discussion.
Et tu, Melinda?
"We found something!" the excited voice of Jemma Simmons, with her British accent, called.
Coulson turned to the direction of the voice and walked fast, just in time to see Fitz grabbing a piece of metal to scan it properly; the beeping machine indicated it was indeed alien.
"Fitz, is that, um…?" Jemma asked, staring with interest.
"Definitely not from here," Fitz completed. "Another piece of the ship–Hey, what are you doing?"
Ward took the piece from his hands, sterilized it with his spray, and tossed into one of the security containers.
"Out of sight," Ward said, closing the container, "out of mind. That's why we are here. To keep everything under control."
And to keep every piece of alien technology away from the wrong hands, safe under SHIELD's protection. Coulson knew no better way to guarantee the safety of their planet.
Alexander Pierce cleaned his glasses as he gazed through the window of his office in the Triskelion. The world seemed so small from up there, so peaceful… He, better than anyone, knew that was a lie. There was no peace. The world was swirling into chaos and if nobody did anything about it, if nobody brought order to it, soon they wouldn't have a world to worry about anymore.
Fury's call to inform him about an alien invasion in London earlier that day was proof of that. Gone were the times when terrorists and organized crime were their main concern; now, they had threats from outer-space to deal with. Threats which they simply weren't prepared to deal with. Earth's nations needed to stop fighting amongst themselves, they needed direction and unity.
Earth needed HYDRA.
It was easy to dismiss an organization so vilified over the years, even Pierce himself had committed that mistake. After all, HYDRA grew strong inside the Nazis, under the command of Johan Schmidt, the Red Skull, archenemy of Captain America, the greatest hero the free lands had.
But what if they weren't wrong at all? What did the Red Skull wanted, beyond unity, beyond all Earth's nations following a single banner? A world with no more wars, a world full of order. Was that so bad?
Sacrifices, of course, had to be made. Nothing worthwhile ever came without effort. And there would always be those who would fight to their deaths to stop that from happening, so stuck in their ways that even changing for the better scared them. Good people, valuable people, but in the end, people who needed to be removed if they ever intended to create the world they deserved.
Nick Fury was one of them. He was Pierce's friend, he was the best Director he could've picked for SHIELD. A strong man, a man willing to do almost anything necessary to achieve his goals. Unfortunately, Pierce knew he would never take the last necessary step towards greatness and for that, he would need to go.
Steve Rogers, the famous Captain America, was another. Pierce didn't care that he was the one who got closer from defeating HYDRA for good, he didn't even care that he killed their supreme leader during WWII. He was a man worthy of respect, honorable, the ultimate soldier. But like Fury, he also didn't have what it took to accept HYDRA and would have to be dealt with eventually.
They just couldn't understand that now, more than ever, their world needed HYDRA's guidance. The universe was gazing at them, testing them, measuring their worth. First with Loki and the Chitauri, then with Zod and the Kryptonians and now with Malekith and the Dark Elves. All three times they escaped complete annihilation not because they were prepared, but because of the bravery and strength of a few people.
That needed to change.
The Avengers, the elite team Fury had gathered, couldn't be responsible for Earth's security. Sooner rather than later they would fail and Earth would fall. Pierce was sure of it, not because he thought little of them, but because no man alone should carry the world on his back. The Avengers were deserving of every bit of respect he had and Alexander Pierce would be the first to admit that the world, and HYDRA, owed them everything. If he thought for a second they would accept, he would extend an invitation for them to join HYDRA.
He knew, however, they were too unruly for that. They would never bow down to the new order. So it would be with a heavy heart that HYDRA would discard them when the time arrived.
HYDRA needed to prepare the world for the new era. They needed to be ready to face what was beyond. Threats of the likes they'd never faced before and for that, more than ever in humanity's existence, they needed to unite. HYDRA was the only way to do that. But it would not be easy.
Humanity could not be trusted with its own freedom. But when that freedom was threatened, humanity tended to resist to its last breath.
Blood would have to be shed. A lot of it, from people Pierce had come to respect, but it was inevitable. Humanity would resist and because of that, HYDRA had to be prepared; something they had been doing since the end of WWII. SHIELD was taken from the inside by HYDRA. Their resources were HYDRA's resources. Every single piece of information, influence and knowledge they had belonged to HYDRA.
Even the alien attacks proved to be blessings in disguise. Technology of the kind they would take centuries to develop had simply fallen from the sky. And HYDRA used it to grow stronger. Asgardian, Chitauri, Kryptonian, Dark Elven… Every battle they won made them even more powerful.
Maybe powerful enough to finally challenge beings such as the Asgardians. Beings such as Superman.
The Scepter was maybe the most valuable piece of technology they had acquired and Baron Wolfgang von Strucker was making good use of it. It was a well of infinite knowledge and HYDRA was drinking from it since the Battle of New York. The Scepter was responsible for, amongst several other things, providing them the means to create an army of enhanced soldiers, soldiers that would carry their banner across the globe when they were ready.
But the first blood spilled in the war would be provided by Pierce's Project Insight.
It would most likely be the first bullet fired and, hopefully, the last as well. HYDRA would rid the world from any who would resist them, a few millions at a time, breaking the foundations of any force willing to fight back. Arnim Zola's algorithm would guarantee that. If everything went as planned, the Helicarriers would rain fire over HYDRA's enemies.
Alexander Pierce, however, was under no illusion it would end the war immediately.
After the first shot was fired, people would indubitably resist, as they always did. Those who were too blind to see HYDRA's superiority would try to fight back. Fury, a part of SHIELD, the Avengers… Superman.
He smiled, putting his glasses back. HYDRA would be prepared; they would not.
"Alright, try the glasses," Clark suggested to Thor, knowing very well what Jessica would say about that.
It was the day after the battle in London. Clark had spent the night in Smallville, being interrogated by his mother about what happened on Asgard and in London for a long time before being allowed to actually sleep, and then he came back to the Avengers Tower. Thor, Steve and Darcy had taken the Bifrost there, from London, and were waiting for him.
Tony was there too, Clark could hear him talking with Pepper on another floor, but he still hadn't the chance to talk to him about the apartment. Depending on what he had to say, that could go either way; Clark could end up thanking him or taking him for a quick fly without the suit.
He didn't quite know yet.
"As you say, my friend!" Thor smiled, grabbing the glasses and putting them on. "How do I look?"
Like the God of Thunder wearing glasses, Clark thought, imagining Jessica rolling her eyes.
"I don't think that will be enough," Steve mentioned, hesitantly.
"Yeah, me neither," Clark admitted.
"You should take you shirt off," Darcy suggested, leering; everybody turned to look at her. "Look, he is pretty cut, I've seen it before. No one is going to notice his face if he is not wearing a shirt."
She looked at Clark and Steve.
"You two should too!" she added; Steve blushed.
Clark sighed. He could already see that Darcy would be no help at all. It was a pity Jane stayed in London to work, because he was sure she would be useful. At least she had dressed Thor in Earth's clothes, a simple shirt and jeans, which was something; Asgardian armor and a red cape would be a lot harder to conceal.
"How about a hood?" Steve asked. "Or a hat. The long hair is a problem."
"Why is my hair a problem?" Thor questioned, suspicious.
"Guys don't usually have long hair," Clark explained. "Not anymore at least."
"Well, that is too bad!" Thor said, defensively. "But the hair stays!"
"Yeah, stay away from the hair!" Darcy agreed. "But seriously, take your shirt off."
"Okay, try the hood!" Clark interrupted, throwing him a hooded jacket.
He did and… Clark sighed. He looked like the God of Thunder wearing a hooded jacket.
"Perhaps that and the glasses?" Steve suggested.
Steve himself was wearing a cap, jeans and a simple blue shirt. Not the greatest disguise in the world, but as long as he didn't go performing super-human tasks he was pretty sure no one would make the connection. The problem was Thor and his very Viking appearance, boisterous way of talking and general lack of knowledge about humanity.
And the flying hammer, of course, Clark couldn't forget the flying hammer. If for some reason Mjölnir decided to follow Thor when they went out, things would become interesting indeed.
"Hood and glasses!" Thor exclaimed, looking himself in the mirror. "I feel like a human!"
"We are generally smaller, Point Break," Tony quipped, arriving at the room with Pepper. "But you're already faking sight problems, so you are getting there. Steve, Clark… And who are you?"
Tony greeted them, smiling, then pointed at Darcy.
"I'm Darcy."
"That doesn't explain anything," Tony answered.
"She is a friend, Tony," Thor introduced her, happily. "Jane's servant!"
"I'm not a servant, I am her assistant!" Darcy exclaimed.
"What's the difference?" Tony asked, being promptly smacked by Pepper.
"It's nice to meet you, Darcy," Pepper smiled. "And it's nice to see all of you again as well! Clark, how is the apartment?"
Clark's eyes widened. Did Pepper know about that?! He was ready to bet all his money that this was Tony's fault! Looking at her eager, happy face, Clark felt any traces of the anger he had left disappear; he couldn't possibly be mad at Pepper, she was too kind.
"It's great!" he said, smiling in a way he hoped it seemed real. "Really, really great!"
"That's amazing!" Pepper cheered. "We weren't sure about doing it, but Tony wanted to surprise you. And, well, he did buy the building."
"Why did you buy the entire building?" Clark asked, looking at Tony.
He just shrugged. "It seemed simpler. I'm actually buying several buildings in Hell's Kitchen, so I can renovate them, make sure they are safe, so I can rent the apartments at a reasonable price later. The Battle of New York was not kind to that place."
Clark was truly surprised at the answer. Maybe Tony had done what he did on a whim, but he was actually trying to do something good. Steve and Thor noticed that too, mainly seeing Tony's rare embarrassment.
"You really are helping to renovate Hell's Kitchen?" Steve asked, surprised.
"Why, Cap, good actions weren't trademarked by you yet," Tony countered. "I'm actually trying to, but the patent office said I have to perform at least 50 before I can."
Steve rolled his eyes, not insisting on the conversation anymore; Thor didn't quite catch that Tony was embarrassed.
"That is great!" he exclaimed. "And you are also helping the parts of the city destroyed by Zod! That is a very good thing you are doing, friend!"
Clark almost laughed when he saw Tony grow even more embarrassed, his vision able to clearly see the blood running to his cheeks at an alarming speed.
"Yeah, well, enough about that!" Tony said, turning to Clark. "Just wait until the whole apartment is done, I spared no expanses. It won't be, you know, an Avengers Tower, but it will be a hell of an improvement." He stopped, thinking. "Not that this is something to be proud of, really, your apartment was one step away from being a hobo's card box."
Pepper smacked him again, then smiled at Clark. "And don't you worry about the furniture, I already ordered everything new!"
"Speaking of that, where is my furniture?" Clark asked.
"Where it belongs, in the gar–"
She smacked him for the third time. "It was a little… older than the norm–" she started, tactful.
"'Older than the norm'?" Tony exclaimed, interrupting her. "The fridge was actually from the Soviet Union!"
"A little older than the norm," Pepper repeated, almost roaring, "so we donated it and bought you some new ones!"
"Oh, you are going to love it, the TV is actually the size of your entire wall!" Tony said. "They only sell it in Japan, but I know a guy. We used to have one, but it hurt my eyes. Not a problem for you, of course, so go crazy!"
Clark smiled, imagining Jessica's reaction when they watched Firefly on that. It was a good thing she also healed faster than normal. Shaking his head, he tried to remember the important thing.
"Tony, I appreciate what you are doing, but–"
"No, no 'but'!" Tony stopped him. "It is a gift, accept it."
There were actually two problems in Clark's mind: one, he didn't like when people wasted money with him, especially that kind of money. And two, the small fact that he did all that without asking, basically throwing him out of his own apartment.
He just didn't know how to say all that without hurting Pepper's feelings.
"Tony, I appreciate what you are doing," he started again, "but it really wasn't necessary. And, you know, I also don't have a place to stay!"
Tony clapped his hands, excited. "Of course you do! Here! Bruce is already living here, he has an entire floor to himself, and it's going to be awesome! We can play games, we can test my suits in my lab/arena, we can prank each other… The other day I managed to finally catch Bruce with the cellophane wrapped toilet!"
There was a brief silence when all of them imagined the man who could turn into a green rage monster being caught in that prank.
"You made the Hulk pee in a cellophane covered toilet?! Are you some kind of imbecile?" Darcy exclaimed.
Clark wouldn't use those words, neither would Steve, but they had to agree with Darcy on that one.
"Hey, if someone can't take being covered in his own urine, by surprise, when peeing in the middle of the night, without turning into the Hulk, then that someone can't really function in society, can he?" Tony argued.
Nobody there was really sure how to answer to that.
"So what are you three doing there?" Tony asked, changing the topic since no one had anything else to add about that. "Why are you dressing up Thor?"
"We are going out for a drink!" Thor said, smiling brightly.
Tony turned to Pepper, his eyes sparkling.
"Don't even think about it, Tony," Pepper warned. "It took me an entire week to set this meeting! You are going!"
"But, Pepper, they are going out for drinks!"
She sighed. "You'll go to the meeting and if you behave and things work out well, we can leave early. Now I'm going to change, get ready to leave."
"Yeah!" Tony exclaimed, turning to them. "This is going to be awesome!"
Clark wasn't so sure about that; with Tony, there would be no way for them to pass unnoticed. Maybe they could go back to drink at the Tower.
"How long are you staying?" Tony asked Steve and Thor.
"I leave for Washington tomorrow. Natasha and Clint are already back to work," Steve said. "You arrived this morning?"
"Yep," Tony answered. "Had to fly at night, since I don't have a Bifrost to take me around. And what about you, Thor? Are you really going back to London?"
"Tomorrow," the Asgardian said. "Darcy came to visit her family and Jane will be waiting for both of us tomorrow."
"Really? Why would you go back to England?" Tony whined.
"What is wrong with England?" Thor asked, puzzled. "I like there."
"What is not wrong with England would be the right question," Tony corrected. "Tell him, Cap!"
Steve looked really lost.
"I like England too," he said, slowly. "I spent a lot of time there during the war."
"How could you?! You fought for our independence! They took away our tea!"
Captain America rolled his eyes. "I'm not that old, Tony."
"How old are you again?" Tony questioned, getting a bowl of blueberries from the fridge. "Civil War?"
"I haven't fought the Civil War either."
"Oh, well, give it a few more years," Tony said, catching a blueberry in his mouth after throwing it up. "The way things are going in this country, that's only a matter of time."
"Say, where is Bruce?" Clark asked, finally realizing he couldn't hear the scientist in the Tower.
"Another unpatriotic heathen that stayed in London," Tony mumbled. "He is helping Selvig with some stuff, he'll come back tomorrow."
"Everything alright there?" Clark questioned. "With the cleanup, I mean."
"Should be," Tony shrugged. "We fought the war, let SHIELD clean up the mess. I think that's fair, isn't it?"
"Tony!" Pepper yelled from another room. "It's time to go!"
"Coming!" Tony looked at them. "Alright, don't you dare go back home before I leave the meeting!"
And with that he was gone, following Pepper to the elevator. The three of them stared at each other for a second.
"I don't see how that would end up well, do you?" Steve asked.
No, Clark didn't.
"Come on, Matt! Just a drink!" Foggy whined. "We got our office today, we have to celebrate! It's not even because I want to, it's because we have to!"
Matthew Murdock wasn't so sure about that, but he could see Foggy really wanted to celebrate that night. Well, "see" was a figure of speech; Matt couldn't really see anything, being blind since he was a kid, but there were other ways to notice just how much Foggy wanted to go out for drinks.
His body temperature rose a bit, his blood was pumping fast from his heart, his muscles were stretching as if he couldn't wait to run to the bar. There was also the high-pitched noise his voice acquired when he was excited and, of course, the faint smell of adrenalin.
Yeah, it seemed they were going out, after all.
Foggy exploded in cheers when he nodded. "Yeah, that's it! Nelson and Murdock, are prowling the night looking for babes! Or, more likely, Murdock is prowling the night looking for babes and Nelson is gonna get drunk!"
Matt chuckled, as Foggy started to fix his hair in front of the mirror, his comb scratching his hair. He could listen to every single strand of hair touching the comb, each with a different kind of sound, just as easily as he could hear everything happening in Hell's Kitchen all around them. Cars, people talking, laughter… But also gunshots, yelling, fighting.
He didn't know exactly how his senses got so enhanced, just that it had something to do with the accident that had taken away his vision. As a child, he had saved a man from being hit by a truck, but somehow the cargo the truck was transporting fell; a bunch of chemicals spilled all over his face, burning his vision out.
It wasn't all it did, however.
Matt didn't understand or really cared much about the how, but the chemicals, while blinding him, also enhanced his other senses, far much than what they used to be. He was blinded, yes, but somehow, as his other senses got better, that didn't really matter anymore. Obviously, he missed it, a lot, but truth was his lack of vision hardly impaired him.
He could hear everything, taste the very air on his tongue, smell each different component present in a perfume from miles away, his sense of touch was so developed that he could read just by touching the paint on the pages of a book. It was like he lived in a different world altogether, a world that he could not see, but feel in its entirety.
Of course, with all that, also came the unpleasant parts.
He could taste absolutely anything on his food, even things that should not be there at all, which happened with alarming frequency as the people who prepared food touched it without gloves, something that made Matt very selective as to where he ate. His nose was constantly assaulted by different smells, from the smoke of New York to tiny pieces of rotten food forgotten all around the city, completely undetectable to normal people. His sheets felt like sandpaper on his skin and he had to spend money to buy only the finest, so he could have a little bit of comfort.
But the worst was what he could listen, all the time.
People getting hurt, yelling for help, suffering, dying… Every single day, for all his life, a never-ending symphony of pain from which he could not escape. And there was only so much a good man could take before he had to do something.
Matt didn't think of himself as a hero, but to a lot of people, that's what he was. One day, he just couldn't take anymore and he decided to act. And he never stopped. When people asked for help, someone should listen and that someone was usually him. Unconsciously, he took his hands to his bruised arm, the pain making him remember the night before, when he fought and beat to near death a bunch of men trying to transport kidnapped women at the port.
Taking his cane, Matt got up, breathing slowly to control his anger, so Foggy wouldn't notice anything. Things had got a lot better since Superman appeared, flying everywhere around the world to save people. They said all they had to do was ask for help and he would be there and honestly, that was almost true. But even being such a powerful hero, Superman was one person and couldn't be everywhere at all times. Matt, better than anyone, knew that.
That's why he did what he could and that's why he wasn't keen on going out this night with Foggy. What if someone yelled for help and he wasn't there to listen?
"That's really the best I can do with my appearance," Foggy piped up. "It's not much, but the ladies should notice the effort. Just try, for the love of God, to leave some poor girl to me, okay? I'm not asking for a top model, I'm not even asking for a pretty girl, all I'm asking is a chance."
Matt sighed, but couldn't help but smile at Foggy's enthusiasm.
"And how would I know if she is pretty, Foggy?" Matt asked, smirking.
"I don't know! But you can tell, somehow, and if there is a pretty single girl there you will end up noticing her," Foggy exclaimed. "She will end up noticing you and I will just drink. A lot. So please, let's be sportive today."
Matt chuckled. There was a lot of bad in the world, that was true, but Foggy was living proof that there was a lot of good too. He was his best friend and if his best friend wanted to go out for a drink at the day their very own law practice finally had an office, well, he would be there for him.
"To Nelson and Murdock?" Matt asked, raising a plastic cup of water.
Foggy opened a bright smile, filled a cup of his own, and also raised it.
"To Nelson and Murdock!"
Matt didn't know why, but he had a feeling this would be a very odd night.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone