A new member
Avengers 2000
Disclaimers: All characters are property of Marvel Entertainment and henceforth Disney, I don't own anything here.
Spoilers: some for the movies specified in the Fandoms ticket
SHIELD HQ – A Few Days Later
The atmosphere in the briefing room was lighter than it had been in recent days. The Avengers—Spider-Man, Daredevil, Logan, and Banner—were beginning to gel, working with a coordination that had seemed impossible just days ago. Yet, despite the progress, there was an unspoken tension in the air, a sense that something essential was missing.
Nick Fury stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, his gaze sweeping over the room. His silence spoke volumes, the weight of his presence filling the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was as sharp as ever.
“We’re still coming up short,” Fury said bluntly. “Without Ghost Rider, we’re lacking a heavy hitter. Someone who can take the heat and hold the line when things get ugly.”
The team exchanged uneasy glances. Spider-Man fidgeted in his seat, the youngest of the group feeling the weight of the conversation. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice uncertain but earnest.
“Maybe… maybe we don’t need more firepower?” he offered, forcing a grin. “I mean, teamwork, right? That’s what really counts.”
Logan scoffed, his voice low and rough. “Teamwork doesn’t stop a tank, kid. Fury’s got a point—we need muscle, and we’re down a big gun.”
Daredevil, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, spoke up, his tone calm but deliberate. “I might know someone.”
Fury raised an eyebrow, his attention shifting to Daredevil. “Who?”
“Frank Castle,” Daredevil replied evenly.
Fury’s eyes narrowed. “The Punisher?”
Daredevil nodded. “Yeah. He doesn’t play well with others, but he’s efficient. Relentless. If you need someone who can hold the line, he’s your man.”
Fury frowned, his fingers tapping against the table as he considered it. “Castle’s skilled, no question. But he doesn’t have powers. This is the big leagues, and powers can be a game changer.”
Daredevil met Fury’s gaze without flinching. “He doesn’t need powers. He’s resourceful, disciplined, and, frankly, terrifying to anyone who crosses him. Trust me—he gets the job done.”
Logan leaned back in his chair, his claws faintly visible as he flexed his hand. “Sounds like another lone wolf. I’ve seen his type before—thinks he can do it all himself.”
Daredevil smirked. “And you’re different, how?”
Logan’s lips curled into a faint grin. “Fair point.”
The tension in the room eased slightly, the exchange sparking a faint sense of camaraderie.
Fury’s expression remained inscrutable as he weighed Daredevil’s suggestion. Finally, he gave a slow nod. “Alright. We’ll approach him. Carefully. If we bring him in, it has to be on our terms. This isn’t a solo act—he’ll need to work as part of a team.”
Daredevil’s voice carried a quiet confidence. “He will. You’ll see.”
Fury straightened, his voice decisive. “Good. Let’s move on.”
As the meeting shifted focus, the team felt a renewed sense of purpose. They weren’t where they needed to be yet, but they were getting closer. Piece by piece, the fractured group was coming together, beginning to see that victory wouldn’t just come from power—it would come from trust, strategy, and finding strength in each other.
Punisher’s Lair
Frank Castle sat at his workbench in the dim light of his underground lair. The flickering bulb above cast uneven shadows over the room, illuminating the arsenal of weapons meticulously arranged on the walls. His hands moved with mechanical precision as he reassembled a handgun piece by piece, each soft click of metal punctuating the oppressive silence. His focus was absolute—the calm before the storm.
Then, something shifted. His instincts flared, sharp and honed. In a seamless motion, he grabbed the pistol, snapped it together in seconds, and aimed into the darkness beyond the light.
“I know you’re there,” Castle said coldly, his voice steady. His eyes scanned the shadows, unblinking. “Matt. Who’d you bring with you? More of your spandex buddies?”
From the darkness, Daredevil’s voice cut through the stillness. “Relax, Frank. It’s just me. And Fury.”
A second voice, gravelly and commanding, followed. “Heroes,” Nick Fury said as he stepped into the faint circle of light, his trench coat brushing against the floor. “That’s an old-fashioned notion.”
Castle’s aim didn’t waver, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he recognized Fury. Slowly, he lowered the gun, but his grip remained firm.
“Nick Fury,” Castle muttered, his tone laced with disdain. “SHIELD. Heard of you. You’re the guys who clean up after the world goes to hell.”
Fury smirked, unfazed. “That’s a creative interpretation. We’re more proactive than that. But I didn’t come here to explain my job. I came to talk about the Avengers Initiative.”
Castle raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Fury pulled a slim folder from his coat and tossed it onto the workbench. The file slid across the surface, stopping inches from Castle’s hand.
Frank cast a glance at the folder, his expression unreadable. He picked it up and flipped through its contents. Photos, reports, profiles—he absorbed the information quickly but said nothing.
Finally, he closed the file with a snap and set it down. “So, you want me to join your little band of misfits? Why the hell should I?”
Before Fury could respond, Logan stepped out from the shadows, his posture relaxed but his presence unmistakably menacing. “Because the world’s circling the drain, and you’re not the type to sit around and watch it happen. You’d rather go down fighting, right?”
Castle’s eyes met Logan’s, the air between them charged with tension. His face betrayed no emotion, though his fingers tapped idly on the edge of the table.
Daredevil took a step closer, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “Frank, I know what you’re thinking. And I know you don’t trust people like Fury or Logan. But this isn’t about them. This is about doing what you do best—only on a bigger scale. No red tape, no bureaucracy. Just results.”
Castle’s gaze flicked to Daredevil, his expression hard but not dismissive. “Bigger scale, huh?” He leaned back in his chair, his grip tightening on the edge. “If I do this, I do it my way. No orders. No oversight.”
Fury’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “You’ll have the autonomy you need. But understand this—when things get messy, it’s not just your neck on the line. You’ll be working with a team. And if you jeopardize that team, there’ll be consequences.”
Castle smirked faintly, a cold, humorless expression. “Messy’s what I do best.”
Daredevil stepped into the light, his tone softer but firm. “This isn’t just another mission, Frank. It’s a chance to make the kind of difference you’ve always wanted to—without the usual limits. But you’ve got to be willing to play ball.”
For a moment, the silence was deafening. Then, Castle nodded, his movements slow and deliberate. “Fine. I’ll bite. But if this goes sideways, don’t expect me to stick around for cleanup.”
Fury gave a sharp nod, his voice resolute. “We wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Logan grunted, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Welcome to the circus, Castle.”
Castle’s eyes swept over the group before settling back on Fury. “Don’t make me regret this.”
In the flickering light of his lair, the Punisher’s agreement felt less like an alliance and more like the beginning of a powder keg waiting to ignite.
TO BE CONTINUED...