"If you need to know... I'm trying to save the world."
I'm Carol Danvers, but you probably know me as the superhuman Kree warrior, Ms. Marvel, and right now... Proud to say, still an Avenger. A wise man once told me, "Once an Avenger, always an Avenger." The wise man was Steve, of course.
I have a cat named Chewie (Yes, I'm a nerd. She honestly looks like Chewbacca though) and I'm not gonna lie, I'm a food junkie. If you wanted to know more about me, feel free to check out my files
I've been through a lot in my life, from fighting off a Skrull invasion to a little bit of getting myself killed here and there, but I've always got time for a chat if you're up for it.
The New York skyline was blanketed with deep grey clouds. It seemed too perfect that they would fall on the day in which the Avengers had to say their final goodbyes to their fallen comrade. Atop a small hill within Cypress Hills National Cemetery, a flag draped coffin lay…
Pepper slipped silently into place beside Tony as Bobbi finished her succinct eulogy. Sitting amidst the intimate group of the deceased Agent’s teammates, the svelte woman felt more than a bit out of place. However, she maintained such a meticulously graceful posture that her unease was barely visible. Truth be told, her exterior visage during the funeral would most likely later lead Tony’s partners in crime to wonder whether or not she had actually known the deceased man at all, mistaking her poise for insincerity.
She glanced at the grim and gaunt faces of the men and women whose eyes were glued to the understated yet tasteful casket, carefully avoiding Tony’s gaze. Although this was a part of Tony’s life in which she had not yet been able to totally immerse herself, but she had been somewhat acquainted with Clint Barton. Thus in the short moment when her eyes met Rhodey’s in the crowd, the sudden rush of familiarity coupled with the plain grief resplendent upon his face almost overwhelmed her. The sorrow visible only in her eyes was completely honest as she bowed her head slightly in recognition of her friend’s pain before finally resting her gaze upon the solemn casket.
Pepper never wondered for a second whether she should or should not say anything to Tony; she knew that her silent camaraderie would speak more than her words ever could. She simply sat in silence, grieving imperceptibly for the injustice and untimeliness with which an acquaintance’s life had been taken.
Tony was there. That was the most he could say, he wasn’t giving the eulogy himself because he didn’t feel like it was his place. He was the reason the rest of the team was grieving, after all. He had been so foolish. The if’s started taking over, filling his mind with what could’ve happened had he tweaked the situation any one bit. His head fell downward after Peter’s speech, his name dropped in it made a pang of guilt flush inside his chest, and it only intensified as Peter’s eyes grazed him. He could feel the weight on him, whether it psychosomatic or not.
His mind started to lurch, and he felt sick again. Realization sinking in once more that all these people were gathered to mourn someone he had killed. He murdered Clint Barton, be it by accident or not, it was his technology that had ended his life. The urge to turn and flee was almost irresistible, and as he turned his head to begin his walk of shame from the ceremony, there was Pepper.
She always knew just when he needed her, and he offered her a low smile, lacing his fingers with hers and staying his ground, turning back to look at the ceremony itself.
Carol was seated on the other side of Tony, her hands clasped around each other on her lap, tightening slightly as Peter started. Her eyes locked onto him, and she listened with utmost intent as he said his piece. But perhaps she was also just avoiding looking at the casket too long. Perhaps she knew it’d be the sight that would strike through her like a knife through butter. It’d be the sight that would render her into a heap of sobbing mess.
The last funeral she had attended, she attended with Clint. They grieved together and cried together. And now she was here today. Clint was here. But he was in the casket this time. And Carol felt suddenly so alone as she realized that this time, the only person she would be able to cry with on the way home was herself.
Bobbi had just finished her piece, and Carol’s eyes grew a heavy look as they watched her friend drown in her grief. That was almost the last straw that also sent Carol into a crying frenzy, as she feared. Not only having lost Clint, but seeing her friends in such pain…
She grit her teeth inside, her lips pursing as she finally held her head up to look ahead. Finally, her blue eyes fell onto the casket, and for a moment, she thought she was actually going to be able to hold herself together. But she was wrong.
After merely moments that her lingering gazed rested onto the casket, she had to lower her head, feeling the tears swell up. As her eyes dampened, she lifted a hand to hold over her face and… And she finally managed to let herself cry. She may have promised herself she wouldn’t cry in front of her team mates and friends, that she would be the strong one, but she was allowing this to be an exception. Her shoulders shook subtly as she sobbed quietly to herself.
Tony stalked into the War Room in Avengers Tower with his arm full of paperwork, hastily shoved into a manilla folder. He wanted to be sure everyone had arrived and dealt with smalltalk before he got in, he was in no mood for interruption.
“Gentlemen. Ladies. I’ve called you here…
Peter, who had been spending most of the meeting trying to get his emotions under control, turned when Johnny placed a hand on his shoulder. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Johnny was willing to help him out, but the fact that he was willing to go as far as risking death spoke volumes to him. Slowly he walked up to the head of the table, the gold and red shining under the fluorescent lights. It was a rare thing for Peter to speak up like this, but this was something that he had partially initiated. Because of this, he felt it necessary to explain himself to the team.
“Guys…..” He began, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. He had to keep his emotions under control, and it was becoming harder now that he was facing the entire team. “I feel like I dragged you into this. I was so freaked out when Clint died, and then when I found out HOW he died, it was just the last straw for me. I was so filled with hate that I wanted to kill Loki, and even Tony. But it’s because you guys cared enough to wonder what I was doing that I’m here with you instead of out there committing some kind of unspeakable horror. I’ll be honest, I haven’t felt that much hate since the symbiote, and I don’t want to repeat that.”
He paused, crafting his words carefully before he continued on. “Clint was my mentor here with the Avengers. He was the one who put me through training, and I want nothing more than to avenge his death and make Loki suffer. I can’t do that alone. Last time I did something like that, I killed a man for a crime he didn’t commit.” He said, turning his gaze to Steve now. “You were a hero to my Uncle Ben. I want to see that hero in action, and I would be honored to hear anything you have to say.”
His blue eyes glisten a little as he listens to Peter speak from the heart. Above all else that’s one of the things next to his unbreakable optimism that he appreciated about ‘Pete, he…much like Steve, was just a good, honest person inside. The last few months have been rough on Captain Rogers, dealing with suddenly awakening in the modern era, the feeling of alienation, the missing hours from his life, the loss of old friends, and the all out battle he had with a man he still calls his best friend. His eyes have always told a story, one of stern determination and unwavering loyalty to what he believes in, but there has always been a sorrow hiding within them ever since his arrival in the time of The Avengers. Losing a friend is never easy, not even for a soldier…not even for a super soldier. Clint Barton had always had glaring personality differences when it came to Steve, but they still got along and confided in one another. Clint had taken him around NYC one weekend, with no ulterior motive but just to be a good friend to him, so he wouldn’t feel as lonely as he often does. Steve was always willing to give him training and tactical advice as well, and fairly often, he learned some things right back from Clint. He now worries he may never get to do any of these things again. Yet another part of him is missing.
“Thank you, Peter. Well—” he seems to struggle with his words at this very moment, much the same. ”I felt a lot of what you felt. I was angry. At the world. I was angry enough with Loki to begin planning an all out invasion of Asgard in response, but I quickly realized the repercussions of what that could mean for us, and the rest of the world, to be so hasty and foolish. If we have learned anything, I hope that it is simply: We do need to unify. Separate egos and pride. Think and re-think our actions before we go rushing out there trying to seek blood for blood. At this very moment, I will confess that I am still trying to figure out a way that we can fight our enemy. But I continuously run into a wall on the “how” aspect of just about every battle plan. This guy does outright malicious and wicked things just for a giggle as far as I can tell, and we know damn well he can alter our reality to his liking. Even going as far as invading our minds as we sleep. I thought the visions he subjected me to were something I would never forgive him for. But his involvement in the slaying of one of my brothers…THAT is truly something I will never forgive him for.”
His hands begin to shake, he’s visibly leaned against the table, a snarl crossing his face, but he realizes he’s allowing himself to get angry once more. That’s not where he needs to be. He takes a moment to breathe and regain composure. ”I guess what I’m trying to say is, for the moment, we have the right idea. One of us may not be able to come up with anything to solve this problem. But all of us as a cohesive unit, I certainly believe we have the brains and the willpower to get the job done. We all need to lean on one another in this time.”
Carol watches in silence as her teammates, her friends take their turns in saying their piece. Watching it, it made her feel a strong sense of pride in the Avengers. This is what they were. They were a team, the worked together. But foremost, they were a family, and that’s what truly showed here, right now, in this room. It would have made Carol feel so warm, it would have been so gratifying… If she still didn’t have that sinking feeling, knowing there was one of them missing here today. Someone wasn’t saying their part. Someone wasn’t sitting right where he should have been sitting. Someone’s witty banter had been silenced…
But as she had promised herself, she would look past that for now to keep herself together. She was still a warrior, and this was a mission briefing. There was no room for tears, as it would only make everyone feel worse. That’s what she told herself as she clasped her hands together in front of her, determined to keep her voice level and calm.
“To be quite honest with you all. I’m not as sure what’s going on here as most of you. But it seems this Loki is the cause of what’s happened. I know we’re all grieving over the loss of Clint, and I know we all want to get some form of revenge on him. But, as I said to Peter not too long ago… We can’t let revenge overwhelm us in battle. I think before we head out there, we need to make sure we’re all ready for the oncoming fight. We need to be sure that someone’s not going to end up making a possibly fatal mistake just because their emotions got the better of them. We’re Avengers. We avenge. But we don’t feed on revenge, and we don’t let it control our actions.” Carol scans the room, glancing at every one of her teammates. Some, her glance lingered on more than others, some that she knew would be burning for revenge. Then, she closes her eyes for a moment, knowing that she too was one of them. “… What I’m saying, is that I think we need to keep in mind that it’s important to make sure we’ve come to terms with what’s happened a little before jumping into the fight all emotional.”
“And as for battle plans and ideas…” Carol leans back into her chair, her hands pulling her blonde hair back and then rubbing her forehead, before waving in the air as a gesture with her words. “I’ve got nothing. I’d say we obviously can’t just go in there with the plan of hitting him fast and hard, which, to be honest, is always one of my favourite plans. But I think we all know it won’t work here. He’s deceitful and cunning, and we’re going to have to put some serious thought into it before we decide on anything. We don’t want to lose anyone else. Hopefully… Hopefully Thor might give us some pointers. Maybe a weakness? I don’t know. I don’t know yet.”
///Tony had sent out the message, to all who would receive it from him, to return to Stark Tower as soon as possible, to discuss the plan to remove Loki as a threat. ////
“Alright, alright. Just wait a second.” Carol opened the cupboard and pulled a tin of cat food out. Her ball of fluff of which she called her cat rubbed against her leg, constantly meowing as it had been doing non-stop since Carol had gotten home. However, she had been too busy sorting some things out, and having a shower to feed her.
She had spent a good half hour in the shower. It was either the moments as she lay in her bed, or the moments she spends in the shower that lets her mind really think about things. And she needed to do a lot of thinking. They had lost Clint. And she needed to get her mind around it, just like everyone would have to.
Images of Clint had flooded her mind, and in turn tears had flooded her eyes. She remembered the countless times they had comforted each other. And his banter when they worked together. Maybe that was also why Carol liked to think things out whilst in the shower. Because it washed away her tears as if there were no tears at all.
She needed to pull herself together. She needed to be the strong warrior everyone knew her to be. Those were the thoughts that she had drilled into her mind, now.
Snapping her out of her thoughts was the card in the back pocket of her trackies, and she reached behind her to pull it out. “… Shoot. Alright. Here you go Chewie. I gotta go.”
Placing down the bowl of cat food onto the floor, she makes her way out, using her semi molecular control to shift into her costume before shooting up into the sky. It only took a few moments to reach Stark Tower. Landing on the roof, she used to elevator to make her way inside, rushing out as if she expected something bad to have happened. “Tony? What is it?
Tony’s shoulders buckled under an invisibly massive weight that was pinning them back against the chair and he sunk even further into the leather office chair. His head fell into his hands and he tuned out their words. Peter’s confession about family rang too true in his own head, and it was his fault. Not only was Clint gone, but everyone in their extended, fucked up, a-typical family was feeling the echoes of him still in their heads.
Maria, Steve, Banner, everyone. Even people who reportedly hated the Archer would be sidling up at his wake. Tony’s breath hitched again and he thought about standing, but realized he would never have the strength to, and instead curled his knees to his chest in the chair, trying desperately to smooth out his breathing.
“you… have to go.” he panted, not looking at either of them. “leave me alone..” Of course, they had no idea, none at all what was really there between Clint and he, and why should they? Tony had acted like it was nothing, and so it had been. Nothing. in the end.
Peter shakily got up, retrieving his mask. He put his own hand on Carol’s shoulder, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the ground. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing was coming out of his mouth. Instead, he quietly slipped out of the lab, diving out of the still open window in the living room.
She stood up, looking at Peter in silence, but he did not return her glance. She lifted her own hand to hold his at it rested on her shoulder, before letting it go as he walked away to make his exit. She thought it saddening that the first time she’d seen him in so long was at a time like this.
But now Peter had left, it was just her and Tony again. She heard Tony’s request to be alone, and to be honest, she’s heard it before. Sometimes, she would listen and let him be alone, other times she would know that letting him be alone wouldn’t be best. However, this was one of those times she would actually listen to him.
“Tony…” She walked over to him as he sat curled up in his chair, the sound of glass crunching beneath her boots as she does so - from the shattered glass of whiskey, no doubt - but she seemed to ignore it. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm, her voice a lot less firm and a lot more softer than it usually would have been. “… Don’t beat yourself up too much. You didn’t mean for it to happen. You’re not a bad guy.”
And with that, she gave his arm a small squeeze with her hand, as if to reinforce that she was there right now, as she always was, and would be no matter what. Finally, she begins to make her way out of the room to leave him to his own devices, but not without one last glance over her shoulder, towards him; ridden with concern. She still had a lot to say, but it could wait. And so she left.
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
Tony sputtered, rubbing a slackened wrist against his jaw, which was bleeding profusely from the new gap in his smile, he leaned slowly back up in his chair and locked his eyes on Peter, gasping for air now that he wasn’t restricted.
“There is no reason why. It was needless.” He responded, his tongue probing the new hole in his teeth. “Does it matter?”
“Everything matters, Tony.” Peter started, the tears forming once again. “You guys are the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long time. And yet, here we are ripping each other to pieces. Every member of this initiative is special to me, and knowing I lost one of them at the hands of another…..” He couldn’t finish. The emotions overwhelmed him, causing him to slide off the wall, sitting with his head in his hands once more.
Turning to glare at Tony, her eyes lock onto him, disbelief and confusion hinted in the deep blue hues. And then she tore them away to instead focus on the ground. Or at least it seemed like it, but her mind was elsewhere. Of course. There was no reason why. It just happened, didn’t it? It was a mistake. A pretty big, almost unforgivable one, but a mistake all the same.
Carol looks up at Peter when she can sense his voice breaking with the overwhelming emotions. He was her friend, too, and she couldn’t help but agree with everything he had said. Her own family had been torn away from her, and she had grown to call the Avengers family, now.
She made a few steps towards Peter, wanting to do something, but she didn’t know what. She hadn’t spoken to him in what seemed like forever, and she didn’t even know if he’d want her offers of comfort, so all she could do was kneel down to place a hand on his shoulder. “… You know Tony wouldn’t have done this on purpose, Peter… It was an accident.”
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
Tony’s back arched reflexively as Peter’s grip tightened, his foot kicking up as the chair rocked back, threatening to send both of them tumbling to the floor. His nails dug uselessly into the back of Peter’s hands, and one of them dropped to the side as Peter’s arm swung out, then back in and slammed into his face.
Stars popped in front of his eyes, and everything else was black, and he reeled at the punch, feeling his lip split and a sickening crunch as his teeth clattered to the ground, despite the agony he reacted like a ragdoll, a soulless look in his eyes.
Peter was sent flying, and instinctively stuck himself to the wall. He wanted so badly to come at both of them, but the rage that had taken him over was leaving, and he soon realized exactly what he had done.
He sat poised on the wall, almost zombielike until he was finally able to form words once more. “Why?” Was all he managed to get out.
She could still see hints of rage in Peter’s eyes, and admittedly, she was a little angry herself, now. But his remark - in her mind - was uncalled for. Soon enough, however, it seemed he had calmed down, but she still stood her ground just in case he had another outburst.
Assuming Peter’s question was directed at Tony, she said nothing. Instead, she turned her head towards Tony who was now missing a couple of teeth, her brow furrowing once again at the sight.
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
Tony turned on his chair, turning to face Peter, but his eyes still fell sharply locked onto the floor, unable to make eye contact with any of the others. He felt the air shift as Peter lunged, and didn’t bother to try to react. He deserved this. Maybe if Peter gave him a lashing he’d feel slightly more absolved of his crimes.
The strike of Peter’s hands against his throat cleared that idea from his mind, as he felt only worse that he could make a good kid like Peter lash out so dramatically. He felt boneless in his attempt to grab onto his hands, the whiskey bottle clattering to the floor with a smash then shattering everywhere, and the back of Tony’s head slamming against his desk as his chair was knocked back from the force, fought for air, his eyes finally snapping upwards to Peters, rimmed with red, and smears of blood and dirt plastering the still moderately wet lines on his face.
“you don’t wanna do this, Pete..” he choked out, /i’m not worth it./ he added silently as Carol flew towards them.“Just like you didn’t want to kill Clint? You took away the closest friend I had among us. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as bad as Norman Osborn or Flint Marko.” Peter growled, tightening his grip. He was so tunnel visioned with rage that it didn’t even register that Carol was in the room.
With those last words, Peter sent a fist into the side of Tony’s face, knocking out two teeth.
“God damn it!” Carol exclaimed, exasperated with the situation. She couldn’t exactly blame Peter for acting the way he did, anyone would be angry and want to punch the living day lights out of whoever had killed their friend. But she still couldn’t just stand there and let him beat down on Tony. Even if she knew it was probably nothing compared to the beating Tony is giving himself in his mind.
And then Peter had to go and make a remark about Tony being like Norman Osborn. That did it. Carol was ending this. Now. If there was someone she hated in the world more than Mystique, it was Osborn. Just hearing his name, it grated against her ears.
“Peter, I said stop!” Grabbing Peter’s shoulder, she attempted to throw him off Tony with a little less force than she normally would, as she didn’t want to send him flying into the wall or into the next room, but surely the force should be enough to send him back a good few meters.
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
“No, there isnt. There’s no excuse for what I’ve done.” He rasped, staring at a spot on the floor about two feet infront of his feet. “No explanations needed.” He murmured more to himself than to them and tipped the bottle back once more, his eyes never budging from the spot on the concrete floor.
“I killed Clint Barton. I killed Hawkeye. There’s no excuses, nothing else but the fact that it was my tech that destroyed his life.” He choked out, his eyes welling instantly at the confession.
“I do stupid things sometimes, but goddamn if this wasn’t the motherload.” He attempted to joke, tears overflowing now as he choked on a sob.
“This wasn’t stupid, it was wreckless Tony. If you had thought for one second about how to free Clint from Loki’s control, then he would still be here!” Peter said, letting all the emotion that had been building finally free.
He slammed a fist down onto the desk, putting a sizable dent into it. “You call me wreckless and half-cocked and you do shit like this! How can you call yourself a leader, you miserable drunk!”
With those words, Peter lunged at Tony, wrapping a hand around his throat, his face a twisted mask of pure, unadulterated hate.
Carol merely turned her torso a little to glance at Tony as he spoke, unable to let herself move from her position in case Peter acted on his rage. Tony’s words rang through her ears and caused a strong pang of sorrow to strike her, so strong she could have sworn she was mentally struck by some form of lightning. She would have much preferred it were actual lightning in a physical sense. At least she could easily absorb it into herself, unlike the burning sorrow which she could not absorb, but instead feel it as if it were another force of nature, one she could not control.
But alas, she had indeed been distracted in those few moment she turned to glance at Tony in worry. She didn’t see Peter coming at him, and she didn’t even sense him with her seventh sense.
Her eyes widened in shock at the scene in front of her. Sure, she knew Peter was angry, she could tell it in his voice. But it still surprised her that Peter would do that, and say the words that he shouted from the top of his lungs.
“Peter, stop!” Now she lunged at them both, but only aimed for Peter, reaching to grab his arm.
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
“Dead serious, as it turns out.” he responded bitterly, yanking the cap off the Whiskey and tilting his head back, taking a very long draw from the remainder of the bottle, gulping several times as the burn in his throat matched the one all over the rest of him.
“Clint.. aligned himself with Loki.” He started, turning sharply and staring back at Carol, his eyes sunken and red at this point from exhaustion and emotional fragility. “He .. I didn’t mean to..” He froze, his words cracking as he spoke them. “He attacked me, I was going to kill Loki. I told him to go..” He took a moment to recompose himself, staring down at the ground and breathing a few heavy and pained breaths.
“I killed him, Carol. It was me. I did it.” He turned his palms upright, the stained coloring on them almost a rusted brown save for some glimmers of bright red that had remained wet.
All Peter could do was stare in shock at what he was hearing. He had silently made his way over to the lab to ask Tony what had happened, but now merely stood slack jawed, his blue eyes wide and damp with tears. His brow furrowed, hands forming fists.
“Y-you……what?” Peter asked quietly, his voice shaking with rage and emotion. He came closer, staring Tony straight in the eyes. “What?”
“… The God of mischief?” Her brow furrowed in concentration and slight confusion as she absorbed the information at hand. Why would Clint have done that? Why Loki? Why… There was too many questions she felt she needed to ask. But… not yet. She could see the toll this was taking on Tony, the way his voice cracked as he spoke even those few words of explanation. Her eyes softened as she stared at him, but only for a moment, before they hardened yet again. “Drinking isn’t going to solve the problem, Tony. Can you just-“
But before she could manage to finish her sentence, she caught a glimpse of Peter at the doorway and her eyes tore from Tony to look at him. Only now did she realize that she had subconsciously made her way towards Tony at some point - one hand resting on the surface of the probably expensive desk - as she watched Peter make his way over to the both of them.
The rage in Peter’s voice was obvious, and it caused Carol to not only turn around to face him but also take a step forward in a somewhat protective maneuver. “Peter. There’s an explanation for this. It wasn’t his fault.”
(via dailybugleparker-deactivated201)
Tony was entirely oblivious to the presence following him from the living room down to his lab. All he could see was a blur of the last hour haunting him over and over on repeat. He walked over to the platform where Jarvis immediately took notice and started removing that monstrosity of a suit from his body. Seconds later he slunk into his desk chair and seemed to sort of melt into it. His face still spattered with his own blood, hair a total mess from sweat and explosions, and his jumpsuit he now was remaining in torn in places where the suit had partially crumpled. Jarvis’s hands in the lab stored the pieces away somewhere out of sight.
“What do you want to know, Carol.” his voice came, sounding dismbodied in the otherwise silent Lab. “You want to know what I did?” he asked, with a slight scoff. The realities were hitting him hard, and the broken look of Hawkeye’s face just before the explosion seemed plastered to his pupils as he reached for the bottom drawer in his desk, yanking out a cheap, half empty bottle of whiskey.
“You want to know how I killed Clint?”
She watched as Jarvis took what was left of Tony’s suit away. Normally should would have made a snarky comment about how much those suits cost and how it still astounds her how he can just do that. But instead, making remarks like that was the last thing she had her mind on right now.
Deep blue eyes, her hard gaze was locked on him with such a serious look that one would be surprised if he didn’t feel it literally burning on his skin or glaring into his very soul. But no matter how her eyes burned on his, his still remained cold and unaffected. It bothered her. It really did. But out there was a lifeless Clint. And in here was the explanation. And she was going to get it.
“No. No you didn’t kill Clint.” It sort of came out without her even realizing. As if a reflex reaction to his words. It caused her to blink as she heard her own words ring in her ears. He couldn’t have, could he? It was like her mind had just immediately jump to the conclusion that he couldn’t have. “… Y- You can’t be serious.”
