Luke's POV
A couple of years later...
Dragging myself back to my place, I was wiped. Not from the actual work – I could do that in my sleep – but from the sheer volume of people today. Seriously, what was with the crowds?
As I reached for my doorknob, a shape emerged from the shadows. My heart sank. "Alright, enough with the surprise visits, don't you think?"
"Well, this is awkward," a familiar voice chimed in from the darkness. "Sorry, Faraday, I know I should've called first, but I wanted this to be a surprise."
"Fury," I sighed, placing my helmet on the counter. "Last time I checked, I wasn't due for a performance review."
"Look," Fury's voice hardened, "we've got a situation. A bad one. And I need you back in action." The playful banter was gone, replaced by a grim feeling.
I plopped down on the couch, bracing myself for the news. "Alright, lay it on me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just how bad is this thing?"
Fury didn't answer, instead sliding a file across the table. It contained a picture of a glowing blue cube. My eyes scanned the page, devouring every detail. "So, who swiped this?" I asked, already feeling the familiar pull of adrenaline.
"Speedy reader, aren't you?" Fury remarked, settling into a chair across from me. His single eye gleamed with intensity. "Now, have you ever brushed up on your Norse mythology?"
"Sure, I've dabbled," I replied, my curiosity piqued. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"Let's just say a certain Norse god has taken a shine to the little cube," Fury explained. "And he's got a nasty habit of mind-controlling folks, including some of my own." He paused, a grim look settling on his face. "We're working on a plan to retrieve it, but it won't be easy."
"Hold on a second... let me just rephrase everything that I understand right now." I said, raising an eyebrow. "You want me to chase after a magical blue box that was stolen by a mythical god who somehow decided to show up in our world?" I had to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.
"I know it sounds like something out of a comic book," Fury replied, his voice calm and steady. "But trust me, this is very real. And you won't be alone on this mission. We'll be picking up another asset along the way."
"So, what do you say," Fury said, his gaze locking onto mine. "are you in or are you out?" His eyes seemed to pierce through me, as if he could read my every thought.
I glanced back at the file, flipping through the pages one last time. The weight of the situation settled on my shoulders, but a flicker of excitement ignited within me. I snapped the file shut, stood tall, and met Fury's gaze with a determined look. "Alright, Fury," I said, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. "When do we leave?"
....
Fury led me down a flight of stairs into a dimly lit gym. The air throbbed with the rhythmic thud of someone working out their frustrations on a punching bag. It wasn't just the sound of impact, though; it felt like each punch carried a wave of raw emotion.
"Mind filling me in on who's throwing this tantrum?" I asked Fury, slightly annoyed by his lack of information. "Would be nice to know who I'm signing up to babysit."
"All in good time," he replied with a nonchalant shrug.
As we reached the bottom of the stairs, the source of the commotion came into view. It was a tall, blond guy, someone everyone had written off as dead. Guess they were wrong. He was alive and well, and apparently taking out his anger on some poor, defenseless punching bag. It went flying with one particularly brutal hit, but he didn't miss a beat, grabbing another and continuing his relentless assault.
Fury stopped abruptly, and I followed suit a few paces behind. "Trouble sleeping?" he called out to the man in a low voice, his tone a mix of amusement and concern.
"I slept for seventy years, Sir, and I think I've had my fill." the man grunted, not missing a beat with his pummeling. "Figured I've caught up on my beauty rest."
Fury sauntered over, flashing the same file I'd seen earlier. "Then you should be out, celebrating, seeing the world" he said, his tone dripping with a hint of sarcasm.
I held back, deciding to let them have their little chat. No need for me to insert myself just yet.
"When I went under, the world was at war. I wake up- they say we won," the man continued, his voice heavy with a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion. "They didn't say what we lost."
"We've made some costly mistakes along the way," Fury admitted, his voice grave. "some very recently that have caused a lot of problems."
The man finally stopped his assault on the punching bag and began unwinding the wraps on his hands. "You here with a mission, Sir?"
"I am," Fury confirmed, his voice unwavering.
"Trying to get me back out in the world?" The man smirked, tossing aside the last hand wrap to reveal callused knuckles.
"Trying to save it." Fury replied, sliding the file towards him.
"HYDRA's secret weapon." the man murmured, his eyes scanning the documents.
"Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for you," Fury explained. "He thought what we thought. The Tesseract could be the key to unlocking unlimited sustainable energy. That's something the world sorely needs."
The man's gaze snapped up, his voice sharp with curiosity. "Who took it from you?"
"He's called Loki," Fury revealed, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. "He's- not from around here. There's a lot we'll have to bring you up to speed on if you're in. The world has gotten even stranger than you already know. With that, Fury launched into a detailed briefing, laying out the strange new world he now faced.
I snapped back to reality when my own voice blurted out, "Since when is it not strange?" Oops, didn't mean to say that out loud. The blond guy shot me a look like I'd sprouted a second head.
"At this point," he said, turning back to Fury, "I highly doubt anything would surprise me."
With a grunt, he stood up and grabbed his duffel bag, along with another punching bag for good measure. Fury just watched him, a silent observer.
"Ten bucks say you're wrong," Fury finally spoke up. "There's a debriefing packet waiting for you back at your apartment. Is there anything you can tell us about the Tesseract that we ought to know now?
"You should have left it in the ocean." the blond guy muttered, brushing past me as I dodged the swinging punching bag.
As we watched him climb the stairs, Fury and I fell into step beside each other. "No way? Is that really him?" I whispered, still trying to wrap my head around it all.
Fury simply nodded, his voice gruff. "You'll be joining tomorrow. Someone will pick you up."
....
~Inside the Quinjet, the next day~
Fast forward to the next morning, and I found myself strapped into a jet, en route to some secret base in the middle of nowhere. Coulson was along for the ride, and so was our mysterious punching bag enthusiast from yesterday.
"ETA to home base: forty minutes, sir," the pilot chimed in from the cockpit.
The blond guy turned to me, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "We never properly introduced ourselves, did we? Steve Rogers." He extended his hand for a shake.
"Luke," I replied, returning the gesture. "Lieutenant Luke Faraday."
His eyes lingered on me for a moment, probably wondering how a kid who looked barely old enough to vote had gotten mixed up in whatever Fury was cooking.
"So, how old are you, anyway?" Steve asked, a hint of suspicion in his voice.
I let out a sigh. "Twenty-three, give or take a few decades. With my aging situation, it's hard to keep track."
"Aging situation?" His eyebrows shot up, intrigued.
"Let's just say I'm built for the long haul," I explained with a shrug. "A couple hundred years is just a drop in the bucket for me. Still a spring chicken, in my book."
He nodded slowly, taking in the information. "How does it feel?" I asked, leaning forward in my seat, genuinely curious.
A puzzled look crossed his face. "I'm not sure I follow," he replied, sounding a bit like he was trying to decipher a foreign language.
"You know," I clarified, "waking up in a whole new century? It's gotta be pretty disorienting."
"Well, I'll be damned," he chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "guess I never thought I'd see the day myself."
"I feel you on that," I said, offering him a sympathetic nod. "For me, it was one night, bam, everything changed. Next thing I know, I'm out there risking my neck on all sorts of crazy missions."
"What kind of missions?" Steve asked, his interest piqued.
"Oh, you name it," I replied, my tone turning a bit darker. "Hostage rescues, VIP protection, intel gathering... But never anything too bloody. Made a promise to myself – wouldn't let myself become a killer, not if I wanted to find the people who took my family from me." My voice caught in my throat for a moment, the pain of that loss still raw.
Steve's hand landed gently on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said softly. "I know what it's like to lose someone you care about." His words, simple yet sincere, brought a small measure of comfort.
I gave a small nod, still caught in the memories of my past. "They told me you were like me, but different," Steve continued, his voice laced with curiosity. "Mind filling in the blanks?"
"Well, basically, I'm like the super soldier serum's quirky cousin," I explained with a wry smile. "Twenty times stronger than your average, can process info like a supercomputer, agility that'd put a gymnast to shame...oh, and I'm pretty handy in a fight. Plus, the whole 'not aging' thing."
Steve's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's quite a list," he admitted. "But if you've got all those skills, why aren't you officially part of S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"Truth be told, I wasn't exactly lining up to join the S.H.I.E.L.D. agency thing," I admitted with a shrug. "The president cut me a deal – a chance at a normal life. I couldn't pass that up. But Fury? That guy's persistent. Monthly check-ins, always trying to sweet-talk me into joining. Yet I wasn't having it. I only did the occasional mercenary gig for them if they really needed me."
"So what changed?" Steve asked, his eyes searching mine.
"Fury just kinda said," I explained. "Something big is coming, something bad. It could put a lot of people at risk. And I...well, I couldn't just sit on the sidelines when I had the power to help. Wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I did."
"That's a relief," Steve replied, a genuine warmth in his voice. "It's rare to find someone who knows their own mind, who follows their heart. It's a good quality to have, especially in this line of work." He paused for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. "I hope you know what you're getting into, Luke. This isn't going to be easy."
I gave a small, confident smile. "I'm used to taking the road less traveled, Steve. Besides," I added with a wink, "I've always had a capacity for trouble."
Steve's gaze shifted to a tablet displaying a green behemoth tearing through what looked like Harlem.
"So, this Dr. Banner was trying to recreate the serum they used on me?" he asked Coulson, who had risen from his seat.
"Let's just say you sparked a lot of copycat projects, sorry, Luke." Coulson replied. "Banner thought gamma radiation was the missing piece in Erskine's formula."
"Guess it didn't quite work out as planned, huh?" Steve remarked with a wry smile.
"Not exactly," I chimed in, a hint of sympathy in my voice. "Can't imagine what it's like to have that kind of power lurking inside you. It's gotta be a tough burden to bear."
"Yeah, but when he's not smashing things as the Hulk, he's practically a genius. Like, Stephen Hawking level," Coulson chimed in. Steve just stared at him blankly. Guess he hadn't heard of the guy yet.
"Basically, Banner's got a big brain when he's not turning green," I clarified for Steve. "Plus, he's the leading expert on gamma radiation, or so I've heard."
Coulson, meanwhile, was practically vibrating with excitement. "It's an honor to meet you officially, Captain Rogers," he stammered. "I mean, I sort of met you before, when you were still on ice. I was there, I was present, but you were...you know, out cold."
Steve chuckled and made his way towards the cockpit, Coulson trailing behind him like an eager puppy. "It's really just...a tremendous honor to have you on board," Coulson continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, I hope I'm the man for the job," Steve replied with a good-natured smile.
"Oh, I'm sure you are," Coulson chirped, pointing at me with a grin. "Both of you, in fact." He gestured towards Steve's attire. "Made a few tweaks to the uniform, you know. Had a little design input myself."
Steve looked down at his outfit, a mix of confusion and apprehension on his face. "The stars and stripes...aren't they a bit old-school?"
"With all the crazy stuff going on, and the even crazier stuff on the horizon," Coulson replied, "people might just need a little bit of good old-fashioned symbolism."
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Now that you mention it," I piped up, "I'd almost forgotten how annoying it is to have a tight helmet. It's a real pain when it gets stuck in the wrong position."
~???~
"With all due respect sir, are you confident in his abilities?" a woman asked
"That I am, Hill. And he is too." The man's lips curl into a knowing smirk, a glint in his eye that says he knows more than he's letting on.
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To be continued...
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