Into the Mist. (Avengers FanFiction) Sequel to Away We Go

Chapter 8

Tony Stark’s a.k.a Iron Man’s P.O.V. 

The message was chilling. 

I paused it, the answering machine whirring as it processed the hurried command. Without another look back, I bolted from the lab, nearly barreling into Pepper on my way up the stairs. 

“What is it? What’s wrong? Tony?” she breathed, taking in my frantic expression. 

“Call Clint, Fury and Banner now. They need to hear this,” I said in a rush, heaving with the exertion of my breathing. She nodded, whipping out her phone and dialing each number in rapid succession, telling each to head immediately to Stark Tower. 

“What’s happened?” she asked, as she followed me back down the steps. The sleek, silver answering machine still flashed, a red ‘1’ lighting up the surface. 

“Is it a message?” she inquired, approaching the thing as if it would explode. 

“Yeah...” I murmured, the last seconds of the recording replaying over and over in my head. “Don’t touch it until the other’s get here”. 

“Banner’s not going to be able to make it, Tony. I couldn’t get a hold of him,” she suddenly piped up, and my eyes widened in horror. 

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Pepper blurted out, coming over to grasp my hand. I could do nothing but run the possibilities over in my head. 

Everyone was at the tower and in the lab within an our. Bird Boy looked like he was going to bust a blood vessel, while the only give away of Fury’s nervousness was the minimal tightening in his jaw. 

“What is it? Is Natasha alright?” Clint barked, eyes finding the answering machine. I didn’t know how to respond to that, instead, I walked over and pressed play. 

“Tony! Tony are you there?! I– I managed to get to a phone, I don’t know how much time I have–” A large crash sounded in the background, Natasha cursed into the receiver. “They have Steve, and Loki’s here! He’s back! We’re– we’re in some sort of facility, I don’t know where. Near Maine, maybe? Tell–” More cursing, metal clanging and glass breaking. “I don’t know what’s going on, but please– We need back up. Jarvis should be traci– tracing the call, Roland’s here too. Get Thor if you can– They’re in the room, now. Oh god. 257 Almancia Pathway, North. Remember that. Calypso’s not–”.

The message ended there, a small click signaling that the phone had been hung up. Clint stared open mouthed at the piece of machinery, anguish etched into the planes of his face. Fury mirrored his expression. Never had anyone heard Natasha, the great Black Widow, sound so desperate and downright terrified. 

“Jarvis, where did she call from?” 

It was Pepper’s voice that broke us three out of our stupor. 

“15 miles North West of Houlton, Maine. There signal was scattered, so my findings may be off by a few miles. The area is covered in dense foliage and forest.”

“Compact Tony’s suit and notify someone to get the jet ready, we leave in an hour,” she said, taking initiative. 

The last word of the message was still ringing through the air, clear as day. Calypso was what? Dead? Alive? 

I’d spent so much time convincing myself she was dead that the possibility seemed downright ludicrous. 

“Come on, guys. Snap out of it,” Pepper barker, shoving us toward the upper floor where we gathered everything we needed before leaving. Weapons, GPS’s, etc. 

Our team was in trouble. They could be dead by now, and we wouldn’t know. 

This was all the incentive we needed.

We rushed around, throwing things here and there in our hurry to leave. For the second time, we hoped that the people we cared for were alright. 

And for the upteenth time, we hoped that The God of Mischief had frickin’ stayed in his own realm.

Natasha Romanof’s a.k.a Black Widow’s P.O.V. 

Calypso wasn’t there. Calypso wasn’t there. She wasn’t there. 

This was the only thought running through my head. Even the thoughts of how Steve and Roland were doing were now pushed to the back of my mind. Tony didn’t receive that last word of my message: “There”. Without it, the possibilities of what I had been about to say were endless. 

My thoughts were interrupted when my stomach growled, the sensation bordering on painful. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d eaten. Maybe a day, two days...three? I’d neither seen or heard anything outside of these four white walls since the encounter with Loki. 

We should have ran from the cabin, distracted him, done something. 

Moment’s after the ceiling caved in, men in suits swarmed the place, taking Roland, Steve and me down quicker than I would’ve thought possible. 

We’d been blindfolded soon afterwards, having no idea where we were when the helicopter (or so I presumed) had finally landed and we were ushered out onto solid ground. 

It was only by sheer luck that I’d gotten to that phone. 

The blindfold had slipped, allowing me a small view of my surroundings. It looked much like S.H.I.E.L.D. head quarters, but an air of pure malice thickened the air. I’d seen the phone through an observation window, the door slightly ajar and the room empty. I took down the guards holding me, barely escaping, before sprinting and locking myself in and leaving the message. I hoped it had gone through to Tony. 

If not, all three of us would be in a world of trouble. If they treated us anywhere near how they’d treated Calypso and her people, pain would be the only thing to look forward to from now on.