heaven don’t have a name—q.b.
Requested by fandomizedtrash
A/N—I lost the actual ask because I am a clown, but the general idea was Quentin Beck attempting to seduce a (reader) SHIELD agent to further win the masses over in his attempt to become the world's greatest superhero. What happens when he starts to fall for her himself? (as far as a sociopath like him can fall, that is). I tried not to woobify him too much, (I mean he DID hold a gun to a sixteen year olds head and tried killing like three other minors, along with Fury and Hill, but the man’s a five course meal, so fan fiction I shall write).
Also, I am aware that I may have screwed up by making the air elemental first, as opposed to being the second one that attacks. That being said, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
I had way too much fun with this one, friends and foes.
(I used a Jeremy Renner song title for this, what about it)
The energetic music blaring through the bar seemed to add to the uneasiness you felt as you lamented upon the past one more time.
The Avengers were effectively dead, and you still didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.
It had been just over a year since the Avengers had battled Thanos one last time and over a year since your life had drastically changed once again.
You weren’t too sure where your life had gone in the following months as you helped to rebuild the world from the ashes.
Or where it was headed, for that matter.
Despite the pretty words that had been said for your fallen teammates so long ago, it was still so difficult to grow accustomed to a world without them.
Steve, who you had grown to love as a sibling, had given up his life in this time to return to the world that had been taken from him. Last you heard, he was in Brooklyn now, living out his final days in silence. It had seemed he’d gotten the quiet life he’d always desired, something you envied.
Tony, whose heart and mind always competed for mastery over him, had led the final hurrah against Thanos with an act as simple as snapping his fingers. Tony, who had brought the world into the future more than once, just as his father before had done.
And then...Natasha.
Nat, who shouldered the responsibility of keeping the world together in it’s darkest time had given her soul itself, or so Clint had said. Nat, who you’d followed around like a happy pup in your first years at SHIELD, and who had taught you more about being apart of SHIELD than anyone else had. Nat, who you stayed up with most nights to try and fix every single problem during those five years, solved the biggest one by giving her life.
Even a year later, you still couldn’t move on and find purpose in the way that others had.
Thor was offworld with Rocket Raccoon’s crew after shirking his responsibilities as King. Last you heard, Brunnhilde was running the new Asgard like a well oiled machine.
T’Challa, who resumed carrying the same responsibility, was equally busy with restoring Wakanda to the power house that it had been revealed to be. Maybe give earth another long leap into the future, just as Tony had done.
Judging by the cryptic message that Sam and Bucky had left behind several months ago, they had decided to take it upon themselves to bring certain people to justice. An unrelated story a month later had informed you that Helmut Zemo had been declared missing from the Joint Counter Terrorist Center.
Clint and Scott were off with their respective families, each reveling in the retirement that they had sought for so long.
Rhodey followed in retirement, but still interfered as much as he could with what remained of Stark Industries. You thought you’d seen him flying around Manhattan once or twice, too.
Wanda had insisted on hiding out in the meantime, taking up teaching while she did so. You thought it suited her.
Even Carol, who was busy watching after the stars, hadn’t been heard from in months.
You wondered how Fury felt about that.
You couldn’t even begin to think about which dimension Doctor Strange was in at that moment; was he rebuilding elsewhere, too?
While you’d once been part of a team to keep the peace on earth, you were now following Fury and Hill in their attempts at making the world safer, as if there had been any threats in the fourteen months that had passed.
To say you didn’t feel needed anymore was an understatement.
Your finger ran around the rim of the glass as you recalled what had been your breaking point.
You had thought that sharing a celebratory bottle of bourbon with Rhodey had been much warranted, yet it resulted in you divulging your insecurities about the uncertain future. He was more than understanding, and you’d nearly cried when he’d spoken next.
“You’ve spent a year trying to go back to normal. We don’t even know what normal is anymore. Why don’t you try living in the new world?”
Fury, meanwhile, had other plans for you.
He’d stopped you on your way to the airport ticket counter in the middle of the night just shy of a week ago.
“Looking for a little vacation time?”
“Hard to believe that you’re not after everything that’s happened,” you had said. He had crossed his arms in a very Nick Fury way and replied, “Nick Fury doesn’t take vacations.”
You had laughed at that; however, when he had gifted you a mobile device and his usual no-nonsense stare, you knew that your vacation would have to be postponed. Even incognito, Fury still had the ability to frighten you.
Something about electro-magnetic pulses that Hill had noticed, and another lecture about how Earth still needed someone to look after it.
“Your team might be gone, but the idea of the Avengers isn’t. You got anything better to do?”
At risk of sounding like a petulant child, you wished it didn’t have to be you.
It wasn’t all bad, though; Morocco had quite a lot to offer.
You had briefly cursed Fury for taking away your opportunity for self-reflection, but he was right: you had nothing else to go to.
You would always be a part of SHIELD.
You’d always be an Avenger.
With that melancholic thought, you finished your second scotch of the night and slid off of the barstool.
Day two, and the energy pulses had remained stagnant.
‘So much for an otherworldly threat,’ you thought.
You shoved your hands in your pockets as you began to trail towards your hotel, not paying particular mind to the greying clouds in the sky.
It was when a gust of wind made you shiver that you stopped in your tracks.
A glance at your phone reminded you that it was due to be nearly 70 degrees that evening, with no chance of wind.
Or storms.
As you pocketed your phone, you observed the graying skies in the distance and the way the wind picked up.
A clap of thunder roared through the sky.
The uneasiness you had tried to quell with your trip to the bar reared its head once more; was Fury getting under your skin, or was there something more sinister hiding under the ground of Morocco?
Several more cracks of thunder sounded across the horizon, and you were thrown off by just how idyllic it had been just a little bit before.
Not a cloud in the sky, you had mused before entering the bar.
You pulled your hair back when the wind roared louder this time, and you happened to see a few teenagers warning each other in Arabic. Even with a very basic understanding, you gathered that they were telling each other to book it.
Your gaze shifted from the kids to the storm again, and you frowned. It couldn’t be Thor back, could it? His storms were always so much more...organized. This was unprecedented. Disorderly.
Was Fury right? Was it another extra-terrestrial attack?
You blanched at the thought of Thanos returning somehow.
Small groups of people slowly exited from the block you stood at, some of them muttering about the buzzkill weather.
Another, much larger gust of wind hit you, nearly throwing off your balance.
Your phone rang then, just as another loud crash of thunder was heard from the mass that grew in the sky.
“Energy pulse is rising. What do you see?” Fury said on the other end, as straight to the point as ever.
“Far from what the forecast predicted,” you breathed. “A massive stormcloud with the wind speed of something I’ve never encountered.” At that, you shivered as another long gust hit you.
“Marrakech isn’t known for tropical storms,” Fury pointed out. “And even if they were, they wouldn’t be giving off the kind of readings that this thing is. Keep your eyes up. I’ll do the same. If either of us see something, we alert the other ASAP, understood?” Fury concluded. You gave an affirmative before hanging up your phone. As you pocketed it, you furrowed your brow.
Why couldn’t the world go more than a year without some sort of cosmic disaster raining down on you all?
You reprimanded yourself for thinking Fury had no business sending you out this way.
He was absolutely paranoid, but he was right.
He was always right.
You gazed at the growing storm, and were taken aback by it as your eyes were able to properly register what it was. The maelstrom, if that’s even what you could call it, had arranged itself into a body. Moreover, it looked like it had a face.
You dropped your gaze long enough to observe the passers by in the area. While most of them were tucked into each other to avoid the freezing wind, you saw that a few were recording the unprecedented change in weather.
Your focus shifted to the area over which the amalgamation was hovering. You were no Clint, but you could see that people were still leisurely occupying the area.
You began jogging in the direction of the storm; you heard a few people telling you to turn away from the monster, but you ignored their cries to leave, and continued your trek.
Fortunately for you, there were very few tourists to actually escort from the area. Occasionally, you veered from you path to order people out of the area and to find a safe place, trying your best to sound calm.
As you neared the creature, the wind grew more and more violent, and you did your best to remain vigilant about the occasional sign that the wind had picked up.
You jogged from your route to approach a small group of people looking around wildly and speaking to each other frantically; one appeared to be trying to calm down a couple, and was speaking quickly in French.
“I need you to get out of here,” you said as you approached them, but half of the married couple stopped you.
“Mon fils!” the older woman cried as you approached her. “Où est mon fils? Mes Louis?”
You quickly calmed her as best as you could, and promised you’d find her son. When she refused to move from your side, you insisted that they find the nearest shelter. The boy’s mother stood for a moment, unwilling to leave her son behind. You felt your heart ache slightly at that, but you were adamant that they leave as soon as they could.
Another older woman informed you that the boy and his friend were last seen across the shopping center, right in the eye of the storm. You masked your cynicism, and thanked them for their time. The second woman nodded, and muttered reassuring things to the boy’s mother before leading her away.
Once they began to make their way in the opposite direction, you turned and started for the storm.
The closer you got to the maelstrom, the more things were being picked up. For a while, you did a pretty good job at avoiding tree branches and the like.
In your attempt to dodge a large remnant of a window, however, you managed to leap right into the path of more debris.
You grunted as the wood knocked you right to the ground. Pain blossomed on the right side of your face, and you had to brace yourself against the road before standing back up to continue your venture.
Just under one hundred feet from where the creature was hovering, you ended up in a small, seemingly abandoned market. You heard the sound of someone swearing in French, and looked around until you found a teenager not too much younger than Peter Parker.
He was clutching his phone angrily, and sitting on the ground as he tried to make a phone call.
His wet eyes found yours, and he seemed slightly hopeful.
This had to be the missing kid.
“Louis?” you asked.
He nodded again, before growing worried.
“Ma famille?” he asked frantically.
“Sûr,” you told him calmly, as you helped him up from his spot.
“Your family took shelter nearby,” you said, silently thanking Steve for the many French lessons he’d gifted you. “If you can’t find them, then get to safety before the storm gets here.”
The kid shook his head, his eyes going wide in panic.
“My...friend, Blase. He’s stuck,” the boy said.
Before you could ask him where the other kid was, Louis began to jump over debris to lead you to where the other boy was. In a nearby parking lot, you saw a boy around the same age laying on the ground. He groaned in pain as he gripped his thigh.
True to Louis’ word, you saw that the other boy was struggling underneath of the remnants of a roof. You kept your cool as you approached him, and you prayed to whoever was up there that the kid wouldn’t lose his leg in the middle of the storm.
Louis spoke gently to his friend, assuring him that you were there to help them out.
“Blase?” you said. The boy was fearful as he looked at you.
“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”
He nodded stiffly.
“Louis, I need you lift as much as you can from that side,” you ordered. The boy was only too happy to help. You grabbed the other end of the wreckage and lifted as much as you could. You didn’t blame Louis for running away to get help. The thing was heavy.
Once you lifted it up substantially, you peeked under to see the state of his leg.
From underneath, you saw that the boy’s leg looked crushed. You kept your face even, not wanting to scare either of them.
“Can you move from under?” you asked, and you started to feel the weight from the debris grow heavy. Blase grunted, but wiggled his way out from underneath the roof. When he was far enough away, you told Louis to let go.
The two of you dropped it, and you rushed over to check the other teen’s injury.
“There’s nothing I can do for you here. I need you two to go back. Maybe find your family along the way, but definitely get medical assistance if you can.”
As if to emphasize your point, the creature roared again. Without missing a beat, you helped Louis pick up his friend, and helped adjust his weight accordingly.
“Thank you,” Louis said, and you nodded in response.
Blase opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. You followed him to see what had surprised him so, and couldn’t believe the sight.
A newcomer had arrived on the scene, dressed in what you could only compare to Roman armor.
It wasn’t anyone you recalled from the attack on the Avengers base last year, and you didn’t seem to recognize him from SHIELD’s radar so many years ago.
You were mesmerized as he flew around the monster, striking it often with green bolts not unlike what Wanda produced. Who was it? It wasn’t often you were missing so many different variables in an equation like this.
You felt your feet inch you closer to the attack.
You pulled the gun from your holster, and warned the kids one last time.
“Go!” you said over the shrieking of the storm. Louis glanced between the gun, the storm, and you. Without another word, he adjusted his grip on Blase, and the two began their trek around the fallen trees.
As you turned around, you could practically hear Fury in your ear telling you to book it before you were crushed like a bug under the monster.
But God were you curious.
Perhaps this is what Hill meant when she said that interfering was your downfall.
You jogged to get as close as you could without catching the attention of the creature. The more you looked at it, the more perplexed you grew. Perhaps it was an alien? If Thor was real, there wasn’t any reason that the Titans from Greek mythology couldn’t be real, right?
The stranger in the sky must have caught you staring, for when he was close enough, he called over his shoulder.
“You need to stand back. I don’t want any casualties,” he ordered from behind his helmet. Your gun was repositioned in your hand and ready to fire.
“Standing back isn’t really in my job description,” you shouted over the wind.
“Do what you like, but a gun isn’t going to do very much in a situation like this!”
He kept his gaze on you for a few moments longer, before swooping around to narrowly dodge a hit from the monster. In his departure, the creature managed to spot you on the ground below him.
You jumped over the debris that lay scattered around the area, and narrowly ducked the fist of the creature. It wailed again, and you turned around to fire a shot into it.
To your dismay, the shot did nothing but piss the creature off. You could see the flying man’s helmet turn in your direction.
In his moment wasted to watch you, the creature attacked its nearest enemy.
It knocked the man to the ground, and began to follow where he landed.
Shit.
Unsure of what else to do, you decided to get it’s attention again.
“Hey! Earth’s had more than enough weird stuff the last ten years, thanks!” you shouted at the monster, unsure if it would actually hear you. It roared in your direction, and rather than run, you shot at it a few times. You hoped that the flying man would be able to get his bearings again, and soon.
You ran away from the creature, doing your best to keep it from destroying more of the city than it already had.
You jumped over the nearest car and ducked behind it, gun still ready.
You took a few moments to catch your breath. What would your next step be? Calling Fury? You thought it a bit overkill to send in so much help when you had the green guy helping you out.
Assuming he wasn’t completed demolished from landing on the ground as hard as he did.
A nearby roar was heard again, and you cursed.
You stood up and shot one more round into the creature.
It saw you, and began lifting up some parked cars to throw in your direction.
As you ran, you were able to duck the cars, but were caught off guard when you were knocked off of your feet by the monster itself.
You weren’t sure how far you were thrown, but you had managed to land in a field.
Your back took all of the weight as you landed, and you released nothing more than a strained gasp on impact. You felt the breathe leave your body and were unable to move for a moment.
As you struggled to prop yourself up on your forearms, you saw the creature was still turned toward you.
From behind it, however, you could see that the newcomer had gotten back up. With his gaze in your direction, you felt he was trying to communicate something to you.
You crawled over a few feet, and grabbed the gun that had fallen from your grasp. You fired what very well may have been the last round in your gun, and swore as the monster advanced on you faster.
‘Anytime, green guy,’ you thought.
As if on cue, green bolts of light went through the creature’s middle. The monster turned around to attack the newcomer, but it moved too slowly. An inhuman sound came from it, and it slowly moved its hands around to catch it’s antagonist.
It was futile, however, as more of the same green light came from the man’s hands in a steady stream. You watched in wonder as the creature roared a final, deafening roar.
It collapsed into nothing, and you slid the mostly empty gun into your holster.
As you pushed yourself up, you felt a groan build in your throat. You stumbled your way across the field and into the parking lot. Fortunately for you, you were able to collapse upon a fallen palm tree.
The pain that you’d been doing your damndest to ignore took over most of your senses; you’d thought that the adrenaline had masked most of the pain in your face, but that changed when you were thrown by the typhoon-thing. You hated to think of how it would feel once the adrenal fatigue hit you.
“Son of a bitch,” you swore after you moved your jaw around.
You felt, quite honestly, like shit.
As you admired the now clear skies, you saw the mystery man’s silhouette against the setting sun, until he was before you. As he got closer, he dropped and walked your way.
“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, I noticed,” you said, resisting the urge to groan.
“Thanks for helping out,” he said then. “It was exciting to have an Avenger for backup.”
You were suddenly unsure of how he was able to see through his helmet.
“The Avengers don't exist anymore. Not in the way they used to,” you added, wiping your admittedly unsanitary sleeve at your head injury. “Or have you been living under a rock the last year?”
“Something like that,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Listen, are you okay? You seem like you’re pretty hurt. You took a pretty bad fall back there.”
“Uh, it’s...it’s nothing I haven’t felt before,” you stammered before attempting to stand up. You struggled slightly, and he offered a gloved hand to assist you. You took it, all the while suppressing a hiss.
“I know,” he replied. “If I remember correctly, you're the one who takes the most hits out of the group.”
You scoffed, and didn’t bother to hide the cynicism in your voice.
“Yeah, tell that to Tony Stark, or Natasha Romanoff. From what I hear, they got the worst of it.”
He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so the two of you fell into an awkward silence.
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t at risk of immediately dying. I should get going,” he said after a few moments, turning the other way. Just as he braced himself to fly, you caught his arm.
“Wait!”
He paused and turned to face you, and you let your arms drop to fall awkwardly at your sides while you spoke.
“You...I don’t know who you are.”
“Yeah, that’s probably true,” he replied.
You ignored his comment
“I mean...heroes aren’t masked symbols anymore. Heroes don’t get secret identities, not with—with governments and whatnot to monitor all of that now.”
“You’re right, they don’t. Not here, anyway,” was all he said.
You frowned, unsure of what he meant by that. Was he an alien, too? Was earth pulled into another inter-planetary dispute amongst aliens?
“So, what’s your game?” you asked, not bothering to hide your suspicion. He seemed to pick up on your tone pretty quickly.
“Look, I’m not here to join the Avengers, or get some sort of award,” he assured you after a moment. “I’m just trying to stop a threat I should have stopped sooner.”
That answered next to none of your questions.
“You know who I am. Why can’t I know who you are?” you pressed.
“That’s a long conversation. I’d prefer not to keep you out so late after all that’s happened.” There was a beat, and he spoke again.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Soleil.”
You frowned when he used your codename. No one had used it in a long time.
“Make sure to get looked at,” he reminded you, before turning away.
He flew away with a trail of forest green behind him, unknown to you and to the rest of the world.
You wondered where the guy had been this whole time. Who was he, and why was he just now emerging? Was he known to the other heroes, and you were just now catching wind of it?
As he disappeared from your line of sight, you turned your gaze back to the evening sky. As the sun set, the first few stars began emerging for the night, and you wondered just how many surprises this new world held.
The sound of a medical vehicle approaching surprised you, and you began the slow trek back to your hotel; you didn’t want to speak to anyone, not with the million questions that might be asked.
It was then that you felt another sharp sting as you breathed in.
Maybe he was right. You were hurting like a motherfucker just about everywhere.
●
Quentin sat on his bed while the rudimentary footage of the attack played over and over again on all of the major news networks; the first elemental had been pulled off without a hitch.
Without a major one, anyway.
He thought he’d been thorough when ensuring that the Avengers were nowhere to be found. As far as he was concerned, the Avengers were practically disassembled.
At first glance, he’d hardly recognized her. He’d wondered how she’d gotten all the way over to this part of the world with no backup tagging along.
What to do with a loose end like her?
Janice had called earlier, asking if the woman should be confined to the hospital under the guise of massive internal injuries.
Then, a thought struck him with the force of a lightning bolt— how the masses did love their superhero stories, and none was more heartbreaking than his. A battle-hardened warrior who had lost everyone who meant anything to him, as well as his home, no matter how hard he had fought to keep all of that?
How the sympathy and support would grow when he became involved with one of the original Avengers, someone just as broken and lonely as he was.
Someone who was disillusioned, and needed someone like him to give her hope.
“Keep an eye on her, actually,” he had said. “Let me know when she’s discharged, and try to find out where she’s staying,” he requested of his co-worker. “We could use someone like her.”
Then, he’d pondered just how he’d get her on his side. What did he know about her?
He knew she was the youngest to join, and did so during the Chitauri attack in 2012. He knew she had an affinity for blasters, something he noticed she was missing that evening. He also knew that she was one of the few original team members left.
The footage on the television continued to play, and he looked away briefly to answer a call from another coworker.
“Yeah?”
“I’m sending you the files you requested, and then some. Let me know if you need additional information,” Victoria said. Quentin pulled away to quickly scan his incoming mail.
The more he saw, the more he smiled.
“This should be plenty. Thanks,” he said appreciatively before hanging up.
He opened the first file, one that had been leaked when SHIELD was under fire back in 2014. He settled into the armchair as he started reading.
He had thought that maybe he’d have to add another casualty to his list, but the more he thought of the alternative, the more his smile twisted.
How poetic it was that it would be one of the Avengers who would ensure his acclaim with the rest of the world.