[A/N]: We hit Top 10 and I have accepted my fate. Here is your first bonus chapter for Goal 2. Just remember that 1000 Power Stones unlock two more. Please think of my sanity even though I know you will ignore this.
"I was having such a nice afternoon," Jay muttered, watching Fury's face fill the screen.
Reed stood, straightening his shirt with one hand while the other unconsciously stretched to grab his tablet. "HERBIE, invite them in. And prepare the conference room, please."
"Acknowledged, Dr. Richards."
Sue moved to stand beside Reed, Franklin secure in her arms. The baby made a small sound, sensing the shift in atmosphere.
Domino rose as well, her hand moving unconsciously toward her gun.
Jay caught the motion and shook his head slightly. "No shooting anyone. Yet."
"Yet?" Domino's eyebrow arched.
"Let's see how the conversation goes first."
The elevator chimed.
The doors opened, and Nick Fury strode into the Baxter Building like he owned it. His leather coat swept behind him, and the vein on his forehead pulsed with each step. Every line of his body radiated tension, coiled and ready to explode.
Clint and Natasha flanked him, both looking tired but alert. Maria Hill carried a tablet, her expression professionally neutral. Steve Rogers walked slightly behind, shield and uniform conspicuously absent. And Phil Coulson, miraculously alive and looking only slightly confused about that fact, brought up the rear.
Reed stepped forward, extending his hand. The movement was slightly awkward, his body still adjusting from the week of constant vigilance. "Director Fury. Captain Rogers. Welcome back to the Baxter Building. Shall we adjourn to somewhere more comfortable to discuss whatever's brought you here?"
Fury's single eye fixed on Jay with an intensity that could bore through titanium. His jaw worked. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.
When he finally spoke, each word sounded like it was being dragged out of him against his will.
"First," Fury said, his voice tight, "I need to say something that goes against every goddamn instinct I have."
Jay's danger sense didn't activate, but his confusion sense was screaming. He tensed, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Fury's eye twitched. A muscle in his jaw jumped.
Then, like he was spitting out broken glass: "Thank you."
The silence that followed was profound.
Jay blinked. His expression cycled through confusion, suspicion, and finally settled on genuine befuddlement. He leaned forward slightly, studying Fury like he was an alien specimen.
"Wait. What? What's wrong with you?" Jay leaned forward, squinting at Fury. "Are you an imposter?" He turned to Maria Hill, voice dropping conspiratorially. "Is he a you know? Should I be worried about shapeshifters now? Because this is freaking me the hell out."
Fury's eye twitched.
Behind him, Clint made a choking sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. Natasha's lips curved slightly. Even Steve's expression cracked into a smile.
"I am Nicholas J. Fury!" The director's voice rose, then he caught himself. "And I am not a Motherfucking shapeshifter!"
"Language!" Steve and Sue spoke simultaneously, Steve's voice carrying that particular Captain America brand of gentle rebuke while Sue's maternal instincts flared.
"We have a baby here," Sue added, shifting Franklin protectively.
Fury sagged slightly. His soldiers were losing it behind him, Clint actually turning away to hide his grin. The legendary Director of SHIELD, humbled by language police.
It would have been funny if it wasn't so surreal.
"Are you having a stroke?" Domino asked seriously. "Should someone call a doctor? Because I'm pretty sure I just heard Nick Fury say thank you, and that can't be right."
Behind Fury, Clint made another choking sound. Natasha's lips curved dangerously close to a smile.
Fury's vein pulsed harder. "I am trying," he ground out, "to express gratitude. Don't make me regret it already."
"But you never... you don't..." Jay gestured helplessly at Fury. "This doesn't compute at all. What the hell happened to our routine? You show up pissed about something I did, I act like I don't care, you make threats you can't follow through on, I offer you something useful, you act like a tsundere, and we part ways until I do the next impossible thing that pisses you off."
Steve stepped forward, his voice carrying that particular Captain America brand of gentle authority. "Jay, maybe let the man speak?"
Fury took a breath. Visibly composed himself.
When he spoke again, his voice had steadied, though his fists remained clenched.
"Without you, twelve hundred people, including some of my best damn agents, would still be dead. Permanently. Phil, Clint, and hundreds of civilians with families, futures, and people who love them. You brought them back." He paused, the words clearly costing him. "I can't be anything but grateful for that, even if admitting it makes me want to punch something really hard."
Jay stared.
His usual masks of power broker, of the man with all the angles slipped. For once, he looked genuinely uncertain how to process positive emotion directed at him without strings attached.
Coulson stepped forward. His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, where Loki's scepter had punched through. The gesture was subtle but habitual, like checking for a wound that should be there.
"I need to say this too," Coulson said quietly. His usual dry humor was absent, replaced by something raw. "When I was dead, there was... nothing. Not peace or darkness. Just complete absence of everything. And then everything rushed back at once. Sight, sound, breath and pain." He swallowed hard. "I'm here because of you. I don't know how to thank you for that, but I'm trying."
Clint was next. His usual cocky demeanor was gone, stripped away by something more vulnerable. "Laura had a panic attack after seeing the broadcast of the battle," he said, his voice rough. "Only calmed down when I called to prove I was alive and not some cruel joke. When she finally came to meet me, she couldn't stop touching my face. Like she thought I'd disappear if she let go." His hands clenched at his sides. "She cried for an hour straight. So yeah. Thank you doesn't cover it, but it's all I've got."
Natasha moved forward, her green eyes fixed on Jay with an intensity that matched Fury's. "Clint's been my partner for years. The closest thing I have to family." Her voice was soft but carried complete sincerity. "You gave him back to me when I thought he was gone forever. I owe you a debt I can't repay."
The gratitude sat over Jay like a physical weight.
Domino's hand settled on his shoulder. The touch grounded him, reminded him he was allowed to accept this without suspicion or deflection.
Sue, ever perceptive, noticed the shift in conversation and decided to redirect. "What happened in the UN meeting to get you so stressed, Director?"
Fury's face underwent a transformation. The gratitude vanished like someone had flipped a switch, replaced by pure, unadulterated fury. The vein on his forehead pulsed in rhythm with his jaw clenching.
"It was a complete shit show!" The words exploded out of him. "Bureaucrats wanting to get you in one of their meetings to gain popularity by hook or by crook. They don't care about security, protocols or anything except how they can use the man who brought people back from death to boost their approval ratings."
He began pacing, his coat swirling with each sharp turn. "Not to mention the insurance companies and courts drowning in paperwork from insurance claims of people who died and came back. Do you have any idea what kind of legal nightmare that creates? People who had death certificates, suddenly walking around alive and healthy. We're talking billions in disputed claims. The insurance industry is having a collective meltdown."
Fury's voice rose steadily. "And worse, we've got new laws being proposed every day. Either for mutant rights or superhuman vigilance, or new clauses about resurrections and afterlife experiences. What happens when someone dies and comes back? Are they legally the same person? Do they retain ownership of their property? What if they saw something in death that changes them fundamentally?"
He threw his hands up. "And don't get me started on the political angle! The POTUS and other Security Council members are breathing down my neck to make sure they have a one-on-one with you. They want to ride your popularity to the next term. Use you like some kind of campaign prop. 'Vote for me, I'm friends with the man who conquered death!' It's disgusting."
After his long rant, Fury stopped mid-pace. His shoulders sagged. The legendary spymaster looked exhausted, the kind of bone-deep weariness that comes from fighting battles on too many fronts.
He moved to one of the conference room chairs and sat heavily, his coat pooling around him.
For a moment, he just stared at his hands.
Hill spoke up, her voice carrying dry amusement. "Not to mention the cults."
Jay's head snapped up. "What? Cult? What are you talking about?"
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