The Ant and the Boot

I was pulled from my sleep by the shifting of reality around me. I landed hard on my back - I let out a gasp of pain, rolling bodily across rock and cement. I knew that this was a projection, but the pain in my side didn’t agree with that knowledge. I rolled to right myself, pushing myself from my knees to stand before the Titan.

He looked more pensive than usual. He sat - even sitting he was slightly taller than I was when I stood - and stared at the Tesseract, cleft in twain, less than a foot in front of him on a table. Still he didn’t touch it. He said that he could not.

“Yes, Lord Thanos?” I coughed, trying to regain my breath and hide my annoyance.

He didn’t speak immediately. Which was unusual - usually when I was summoned, he had something to say, and he usually said it loudly. Instead he paused, staring into the blue light of the tesseract with a cold intensity.

“Do you know where your wife is right now, Little God?” he finally asked, his voice… far quieter than expected. As if we were just chatting. This was deeply disturbing.

I, of course, had not told the Titan that I had visited Dove, or the new stronghold of the other Avengers - in fact, as far as the Titan was aware, we were still on the hunt for the location.

“No, of course not,” I lied, “Or else she would be here with me.”

He fell silent again. As it stretched, the empty space made me feel more and more disturbed. After a long pause, he nodded.

“Redouble your efforts to find her. Bring her to me.”

I balked at this. Thanos was a War Titan - surely he didn’t think, even if I was truly his ally, that I would so simply hand over my wife so easily.

“Our arrangement was specific in that Dove would not be harmed,” I blurted, trying halfway through my sentence to push my anger out of my tone.

“I know our arrangement. That’s why you must bring her here. Immediately.”

“What?”

His giant mass shifted, his gaze never leaving the blue light of the tesseract. He gestured at the broken cube with one massive hand.

“Your wife became a god by consuming part of the tesseract, becoming one with it.”

“She did.”

“And before that she was human?”

“... Yes. But she’s human no longer.”

“Or she still is,” he said, looking at me for the first time. I stared back at him, incredulity mounting in the pit of my stomach.

“Dovesary clearly became one with the tesseract,” I argued, taking a step forward without meaning to do so - such was my rage. “She consumed a part of it, and now she possesses its powers. She’s become a god.”

“She clearly became one with the tesseract. But she split the tesseract’s power - do you feel as strong as you once did with your scepter? Or is your scepter now weak?”

“It is weaker, but that’s what’s to be expected if she’s taken a portion of the tesseract’s power.”

“But what if there was more damage done to the tesseract than you considered?”

After giving me a long, cold, unreadable look before turning his face back to the blue light. His huge fingers drummed on the table as he stared, but never touched, the glowing artifact. I waited in silence for him to continue, not sure what he could mean.

“Have you ever worked on a ship, little god?”

I blinked at the abrupt change in subject.

“A ship?” I asked. “In space, or do you mean a water vessel? In any case, no. I have not. I have ridden aboard them a handful of times but I’ve never boarded one as a workman. On Asgard we have more.... Refined methods of travel.”

“Then you lack the knowledge to see the problem. Ships - the kind you use to navigate space, not the tiny seas of planets - are like their own organism. All the pieces are connected. If you begin to remove the pieces, the system begins to fail. The circuitry and mechanics of the ship all form a giant circle. Maintain the circle, and the ship runs; break the circle, and the ship dies.”

“So… Dove has broken the circle of the tesseract?”

“In a way. But the system hasn’t failed yet. But I’d never considered… What if your wife, and the parts of the tesseract that she’s become, were permanently removed from the circle? What if your wife was killed - would the tesseract die with her?”

“That could never happen,” I snapped, “Dove is a god now. She’s immortal. The tesseract made her so.”

“You think that. But what if it didn’t? What if your human bride sullied the tesseract - and instead of truly becoming a god, she made it mortal?”

My blood turned cold, the color draining from my face. Thanos didn’t seem to notice, still mesmerized by the shimmering blue light.

“I never thought it would be possible to break an infinity stone,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I… I must find her,” I stammered, stumbling backward towards a hopeful exit, “I must find her and warn her - no, find her and hide her. The humans are savage, and incensed by our attacks - if they ever learn that they can hinder us by killing her, they wouldn’t hesitate.”

My heart was pounding. All the revelry of the night before was gone - all sense of satisfaction, of comfort. Infuriatingly, the titan seemed far less upset than I felt that he should be - he just looked pensive, transfixed by the blue light - a light that maybe could so easily, so easily be extinguished, and my love with it.

“You’re right. If they ever discover that they can stop our attacks by killing her, they will,” he agreed, his tone distant. “So. Find her.”

The world dissolved. I collapsed back into darkness, and it took several seconds of clammy, nervous tossing to realize that the bounds that held me were mere blankets and the darkness was just the empty hotel room. I kicked the blankets off of my with a grunt of frustration, scepter already summoned to my hand as I tumbled through my own portal.

Once again, I landed with a bodily thud - this time on my feet, but with very little grace. I shoved my hair out of my face, whirling around the Avenger’s living room and preparing to seize my wife the moment she stepped into my view.

But she didn’t step into my view. In fact, no one came running in, despite the obvious commotion that I had caused in my entry. No alarm sounded, no lights burst on, and no Avengers - nor my wife - burst through a doorway. I tried to find an explanation, but none came forth. I began to walk around the building, opening doors with little ceremony but still finding no one waiting behind them.

I stalked through room after room. Each door was unlocked, but each room behind it was empty. My stomach fell deeper into my chest with each door I swung open, as it became absolutely clear that the building was abandoned.

The final door that I opened had an acidic, chemical scent - a scent that became horrifically strong when I swung the door open, making me take a step back. I coughed - then stared at a bedroom that had been charred from floor to ceiling, leaving nothing behind it. Mesmerized by the destruction, I stepped into the room, looking for clues as to what had happened here - and out of the corner of my eye, I saw something glittering on the floor.

No. It couldn't be.

My fingers shook. I knew what it was before I picked it up, but I picked it up anyway. Lifting it from ash, I cradled the shining, discarded engagement ring.

As I held it, the emerald fell free from its setting.



The anxiety was giving my heart palpitations.

“All right, all aboard - move it,” I called, ushering the last person - my wife, of course - onto the plane. I was too anxious to even pinch her pregnant ass as she walked by. Instead, as soon as she passed the threshold, I slammed my fist into the button that raised the hangar lock.

Despite it being painfully early in the morning, no one looked bleary-eyed. Everyone looked alert, focused - and dressed for a fight. They were all watching me, waiting. After all, I was the one that had woken them up at three AM and told them to pack everything they had.

My stomach dropped in that familiar way as we rocketed upward into the air. I held the railing in one arm and my wife in the other, ignoring the eyes focused on me and instead focusing on the lemon-citrus scent of my wife’s hair.

Once we leveled out, I finally turned to them - and smiled.

“Morning, everyone,” I greeted cheerily, “Good job hustling. Anyone want some coffee?”

Everyone’s iron focus lost a bit of its edge and turned a little more… confused. Eyebrows raised and arms and legs shifted awkwardly.

“... I’ll have some coffee,” Thor mumbled with a shrug. My smile widened.

“That’s the spirit. Anyone else?”

Barton cleared his throat and raised his hand. Bruce had stopped looking concerned.

“... Stark?” Cap asked in his usual, disapproving tone. God, I really thought that this whole “chasing love in the face of an evil god” would remove the stick from his ass, but I could still see the wood sometimes when he talked. I’d grown to love the guy - and seriously respect his biceps - but he still had his moments.

“I figured that we needed to change our vacation plans. Quickly,” I explained. “Mostly we need a change of scenery. Maybe where we can do better research and… not have certain people waltz into our living room.”

I looked up from what I was doing - which was punching fancy coffee orders into the Jarvis-Keurig - to give a pointed, but short, look at Dove and Cap. Who were sitting next to each other, of course. The stern disapproval promptly fell off of Cap’s face, right around the time that Dove turned red and started staring at her toes.

“Anyway, our old plan really wasn’t working for us. So we’re making a new one.”

“I think this is probably wise,” Thor responded, nodding. “My brother has found our location. It was only a matter of time before he gave it to the Chitauri and Thanos.”

“We should probably go somewhere closer to the United States, too, if they get it in their heads that it’s the place to attack. They’d been going for more random places to give a general global sense of terror, but after the reception Detroit got, they’ll probably want to do a similar kind of attack,” Natasha added, her tone grim.

“Right. That’s why we’re going back to New York.”

The reception was definitely mixed. Steve jumped to his feet, the stick in his ass firmly back in place; on the other end of the spectrum, Bruce, who apparently shared my wavelength, and nodded sagely with an itty, bitty smile. For everyone else, there seemed to be a mix of confusion, terror (primarily in Dove’s case), but also a little bit of curiosity and agreement.

“That’s a terrible idea!” Steve declared, very much not on the “agree” bandwagon. I tried to hand him a cup of coffee. He didn’t take it and just looked angrier. I gave it to Thor instead, who was much more polite.

“That’s one opinion,” I said, giving a second cup out to Barton. “Anyone else have any thoughts?”

“It’s a honey trap,” Bruce said with that same, itty-bitty, sly smile. “We haven’t been able to track Loki at all, so we make him and his army come to us. Provoke an attack so we know when it’s coming and where he will hit.”

“If we know where he’s going to attack, we may be able to pull off what we did last time,” Clint added, mumbling into his coffee.

Natasha nodded. “Sure beats sitting, waiting, and then missing the attacks and showing up to already leveled cities.”

The general consensus made Cap look increasingly more frustrated. He looked around at everyone, fingers curling up into tight, white-knucked fists.

“So we’re just going to put New York through that again?” he demanded.

“They’re the best prepared for it. They’ve fortified since the first attack,” Natasha shrugged cooly, nodding as she mulled the plan over.

“We haven’t prepared enough,” Cap argued, “They have a plan. Clearly. And we don’t. If this goes down, we can’t guarantee that we can actually win again.”

“Better than spending more time ‘preparing’ and letting New York get leveled anyway while we were sitting on our asses,” Barton shot back.

Cap’s mouth opened, then it closed. Then it opened again. Then he ground his jaw. Usually this would bring me immense satisfaction, but right now, it really, really didn’t - because I knew what was on his mind. What he was dying to say.

He could care less that we were jumping into a fight with next to zero plan and guns blazing. He just was mad that we were bringing Dove along.

Speaking of which…

As they continued to argue, I turned to look at her. Dove was staring at her toes, most of her face obscured by waves of white-blonde hair - but I didn’t need to see her face to see the way her hands gripped the edge of her seat, or how her arms were shaking. She was fucking terrified - Which, honestly, was the appropriate response. My stomach did a painful, guilty flip. I knew, and she knew, and I knew that she knew, that this whole plan hinged partially on her being the bait.

“We’ve got to make up for Detroit.”

Cap abruptly stopped yelling at Barton and Nat with the sound of Dove’s voice. He turned, his expression melting from anger into genuine concern.

“Dove -”

“It’s a brilliant idea. The whole world lost faith in us. If we might be able to pull this off - if we can lure them in, get them to attack on our terms, if we can…”

She stopped, swallowing.

“... If we can take Loki down, him and his whole army, then we have to try,” she finished, finally looking up.

The look in her eyes scared me a little. They were bright, tearful, definitely afraid - but also so, so angry. She locked eyes with me for a moment, then slowly turned her gaze to Steve.

“We’ve got to. We’ve all got to,” she murmured, but still with that same, cold determination, staring him down. “For everyone who’s not here right now.”

I looked at Steve. They were having a moment that no one else was a part of. Facially, he seemed to go through the stages of grief - anger lasted the longest - until finally, finally, his face softened again and he rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Then we have to promise that we’ll win for everyone who’s not here right now, too,” he replied softly.

“I promise,” Thor immediately replied from behind them both, missing the whole moment that just occurred.

“I promise,” Natasha also added, her voice cold as stone.

“... I promise,” said Barton.

“I promise,” said Bruce, adding, “Whatever it takes.”

“I promise,” said Dove, finally, then echoed, “Whatever it takes.”

“Okay young lady, why don’t you drop the glum ‘whatever it takes’ part and we’ll just stick to ‘I promise’, okay?” I quickly interjected, ruining the Trademark Superhero moment that just occurred before Dove could enter another suicide pact with herself. “I promise. We all promise. We’re the Avengers - we’re going to avenge. Kick the snot out of Thor’s baby brother and that giant grape that he’s taking orders from.”

Dove looked at me. I looked at her. Finally, a smile cracked.

“He really does look kind of like a giant grape,” she said softly, beginning to laugh. I also began to laugh - and everyone else did, too, I think because of just how absurd everything was.

“He’s really fucking ugly,” I agreed. “He’s supposed to be a god. Can’t he, like, magic himself some hair? Or a normal chin?”

We all just laughed. And cried a little, I think. That lasted for a long time - every time it died out, someone would start up again. Cap sank back into his own seat, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

The rest of our trip home was silent, but for the first time in what felt like a long time, the silence felt good.



Halfway through the flight, Steve put his arm around my shoulders. At first I froze, waiting - I don’t know, for something bad to happen - but when the moment passed and Loki didn’t come bursting into the helicarrier to kill us all, I relaxed, sinking into the warmth of Steve’s chest and closed my eyes.

Part of me nervously waited for someone to say something. Thor, maybe, or even Natasha. But no one did. No one broke the calm, peaceful silence.

I didn’t even know that I had fallen asleep until Steve gently shook me awake.

“We’re home,” he whispered into my hair. I groggily looked up, blinking into the light as the door of the helicarrier fell open.

The light was so bad because of all the reporters. The sound of all of them followed soon after the flashing of their cameras - and even held back from an invisible barrier, they were so bright and deafening that they felt to me like an amoebus mass that was assaulting us from all sides. I remembered, briefly, that Tony actually lived with this kind of attention all the time, and I suddenly gained a whole new respect for him. I had to keep myself from bowing my head and scurrying forward into the safety of the tower.

Tony led us, waving. There were boos. Things thrown at the barrier. He kept waving, and standing up tall and straight.

They all did. They all kept their chins high and took deliberately slow strides towards the safety of our front door, allowing themselves to be jeered at and photographed. I didn’t feel like I could breathe, but I tried to follow suit.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Face the crowd. Keep walking.

As we started to leave the helicarrier, Steve took my hand to help me down - but when I stepped down, he didn’t let me go. I tried to pull my hand back. He resisted, turning instead to continue walking towards the door, through the tunnel of reporters and onlookers, fingers still firmly twined with mine.

I felt so acutely afraid that I was worried that I would faint from it.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Face the crowd. Keep walking.

He kept holding my hand.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Face the crowd. Keep walking.

As we walked, he leaned over to murmur something that I couldn’t hear and pressed his lips to my hair.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Face the crowd. Keep walking.

Cameras clicked and flashed all around us.

Chin up. Shoulders back. Face the crowd. Keep walking.

He held me close all the way through the door. I was shaking so hard that I was having trouble standing.

“I’ve got you,” he soothed as the door closed behind us with a gentle, electric woosh. As Steve held me upright on my wobbly legs, I looked up - and found Tony’s eyes. He looked… proud. Paler than usual, I thought, and a little sick. But proud. And determined. He nodded at me, then looked up and nodded at Steve - which, honestly, I never thought was going to happen.

“Nice move,” he said quickly, probably to hide the nervous quake in his voice. From against me, I felt the shrug of Steve’s shoulders.

“It didn’t feel like a ‘move’, just what I’ve wanted to do for a long time now,” he replied. “Besides, there are going to be a lot of reporters around us, and Dove’s gonna start showing soon. Her baby is going to need a father.”