Iron Bloodlines

"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!"

Loki's POV:

The team moved with quiet determination, a heavy tension settling over us as we prepared to leave the compound. Every step felt deliberate, each moment underscored by the weight of what lay ahead. Elise's absence loomed over all of us, but none more so than Barnes. His jaw had been set, his expression unyielding since the decision to head for Mystic Falls was made.

Scott had surprisingly made the most reasonable point of the day: flying the jet into a small town like Mystic Falls would draw far too much attention. For once, Stark didn't argue. Instead, we prepared for the long drive, splitting into two vehicles.

Steve drove his truck, with Stark, Wilson, Lang, and Thor piled inside. Watching Thor attempt to fold his massive frame into the backseat had been a brief moment of levity, though Stark's muttering about road trips quickly soured the mood.

I claimed the passenger seat in one of Stark's sleek Range Rovers, with Barnes behind the wheel. Natasha sat directly behind me, arms crossed, her focus sharp as always. Barton and Wanda filled the remaining seats, the quiet weight of the mission pressing down on all of us.

The tension in the car hung thick as we drove through the winding, dark roads, but Natasha and Clint, as always, couldn't resist filling the silence with their chatter. Their voices cut through the stillness, enlightening the rest of us to the unknown possibly waiting for us in Mystic Falls.

"This town," Clint started, flipping through one of the articles he'd printed, "is straight-up the set of a bad horror movie. You've got witches, creepy old families, mysterious animal attacks—oh, and here's the kicker: vampires."

"Vampires?" Natasha glanced up from her tablet, arching an eyebrow. "Seriously? You're telling me someone actually wrote that down in a historical record?"

Clint grinned. "Yup. People have been claiming vampire sightings in Mystic Falls since at least the 1800s. Whole town's basically one big supernatural hotspot."

Wanda, sitting beside Clint, rolled her eyes. "Vampires don't exist. If they did, someone would've caught them on TikTok by now. Hashtag 'vampire vibes.'"

"That's what they want you to think," Clint said, leaning forward with mock seriousness. "Maybe they're just really good at hiding. You know, blending in as pale, brooding strangers who only come out at night."

Natasha snorted. "Oh sure, because a pale, brooding guy sneaking around at night with sharp teeth wouldn't stand out at all."

Clint shrugged. "Maybe they've got a system. Like, what if they're on dating apps or something? Luring people in with brooding selfies and cryptic bios. Swipe left, you're safe. Swipe right, and you wake up in some creepy mansion with no blood."

Natasha shook her head. "Clint, you've officially thought about this way too much."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Clint said, holding up the article dramatically. "If you're going to disappear, why not pick a place full of weird stories? You'd blend right in."

Barnes voice cut through the banter, low and sharp. "We're not here to joke about vampires. Focus."

"Oh, come on, Barnes," Clint said, leaning forward, grinning. "You're telling me you wouldn't want to fight a vampire? Super speed, super strength, a little mind control—sounds like a fun Saturday night."

Barnes'  jaw tightened, his eyes locked on the road. "I've fought enough monsters. I don't need vampires on the list."

"Would you even need a stake?" Natasha quipped, smirking. "Or would the arm do the job?"

Clint lit up at that. "You could get Stark to modify it! Maybe a retractable stake, or a UV light built into the hand—oh! Flamethrower fingers!"

"Can we not?" Barnes muttered, his grip tightening on the wheel.