You may have noticed that there are two people whose points of view I haven’t written from yet: Loki and Fury. I haven’t written from Loki’s point of view mostly because it hasn’t been necessary. He’s been with Stark and Natasha the whole time.
But Fury’s different. I haven’t written from his point of view because the task is… well, daunting. But it seemed like the best option. So here goes. We’re going to get some answers this time… New? Click here for past posts.
Fury slowly blinked. The world spun around him. He was standing, something solid at his back. Things began to focus – the trees, the forest floor, the ropes tying him to the unusual, almost oak-like tree behind him.
He rotated his head to the side, squinting to help himself focus. Banner was tied to a tree next to him, out cold. At least he still had his eye patch. He could feel the strap on his scalp.
It took a few seconds for him to remember. The natives had knocked him and Banner out, but not before Fury caught a glimpse of the man who had spoken. Fury closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree. They were stuck on the island with a monster. And it wasn’t the Hulk.
Banner finally stirred next to him, gradually regaining consciousness. Fury watched him. What had happened back there? Banner couldn’t transform into the Hulk? What was going on here, on this idiotic island? Banner blinked and looked over at Fury before closing his eyes. He grunted as he shifted against his tree. “Well. Seems like we’re in a bit of a pickle.”
Fury looked away and rolled his eye, scanning the surrounding area. “That’s quite the understatement.” He turned his gaze back to his fellow prisoner.
“Well, it’s good to see that you are all finally awake.” The crisp voice with the German accent floated through the trees as the owner stepped into view.
Banner looked shock as he took in the man, but Fury wasn’t. He’d already had time to ponder everything. “For some reason I was thinking that you were dead. I’m pretty sure I heard that from our good captain’s mouth itself.”
Red Skull laughed. “Clearly, he was mistaken.” A few natives stepped into view behind him.
Fury looked at the man doubtfully. “So you’re telling me that the Tesseract teleported you here? To this tiny island?”
“Oh, no, not in the least. The Tesseract deposited me on Vanaheim, one of the Nine Realms.” He paused, watching Fury’s face. “Ah, your Asgardian friend has not mentioned it to you. Ah, well. I’m sure he would explain it better than I could. The Vanirs quickly got fed up with me and therefore worked with the Asgardians to deposit me here.” He motioned around. “It was quite nice of you to stop by here. I never thought I would have company.”
Fury worked to keep his cool appearance. “I’m not surprised those… Vanirs… kicked you off their planet. Seems even aliens can’t stand you.”
Red Skull’s eyes narrowed as best as they could. “They’re as close to human as the Asgardians are. I’m sure your friend could explain it to you, if he were here.”
A form stepped through the trees and approached Red Skull. Fury almost felt like laughing. Now Rogers’ best friend, Bucky Barnes, was alive, too. “The message was sent,” he told Red Skull, who nodded.
A native said something to Red Skull in a language Fury couldn’t understand. It sounded almost like German, but with another language mixed in, too. Red Skull smiled. “Ah, well.” He said something back to the native and turned to Fury. “I guess he’ll be able to tell you himself.”
Four natives dragged an unconscious Thor into view. His head hung limply down, his blond hair dirty and tangled. They leaned him against the tree and quickly tied him to it. Red Skull smiled. “Don’t worry about your other friends. They’ll be joining us soon.”
Fury glanced over at Banner. “I think you’re right.”
Banner frowned in confusion, then nodded slowly. “Yep. We’re in a pickle.”
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