Chapter One: We Wish You a Merry Invasion
"Apollo! I'm not kidding!" she shouted.
Eleanor Bishop was a tall, pale woman with short black hair. Normally, she was a calm, collected businesswoman, but right now, she was pissed.
"I'm telling you, you need to move!" Apollo replied. He was in his usual form, a chill, tan, blond surfer dude. Then, however, he was decidedly not chill, as agitated as Eleanor was. "Eleanor, the gods have locked down Mount Olympus. Zeus hasn't been this paranoid since Hades' rebellion! I'm the god of prophecy and—"
"And you left me! Us! You waltzed in, looking for some fun, and waltzed right out!" she bellowed.
"That's, that's…"
"What? Exactly what happened?" she scoffed. "And now you come back, with conspiracy theories about aliens? What is this, some kind of joke?! An attempt to weasel your way back into our lives? Maybe to score a second time?"
He turned red. "No! I'm not even supposed to be here! Zeus temporarily banned all contact with mortalkind until this all blows over! I'm trying to help you! You've got a daughter to think of."
She scowled. "I've got it under control, Apollo. Here on Earth, with us mortals, solutions don't just fall out of the sky! We work hard for things, and don't just abandon them because of vague tall tales about aliens!"
Behind them, there was a thud. They turned, each aware of whose room was on the other side.
Eleanor sighed. "Damn it."
"Do you want to?" Apollo asked.
She rubbed her forehead. "Who are we kidding? You go."
Apollo knocked at the door. "Kate? Coming in."
He opened the door into his daughter's bedroom, taking in the sights of the pink wallpaper, sheets, pillow, everything. In the bed itself, hugging her knees, was Kate Bishop herself. She had curly, dark brown hair, with pale skin.
Apollo sat at her bedside, smiling. "You shouldn't eavesdrop."
"Then how would I know what you're saying when I'm not there?" she asked.
Apollo chuckled softly. "I don't know how to argue with that. How much did you hear?"
After a moment, she mumbled, "I don't want to move."
Apollo sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That much, huh? Look, it's just for safety. And it seems like your mom won't do it, anyway. You're not gonna move."
"How do you know?" she asked, staring up at him with big blue eyes. "Mommy said things don't just fall from the sky."
"Well, yeah, but there's always gonna be weather. There's always going to be the big bright sun, watching over you. Some people forget the one thing they can control with fate and destiny; the choices they make in the face of it."
She looked down, thinking. Abruptly, she asked, "What would you do if the aliens are real?"
He patted her head. "I would do what I always do. Protect you." He moved his hand to her cheek, lifting her gaze. "Now, why don't you go have some lunch with your mom?"
He stood, and began walking to the doorway. Just before he left the room, he tossed her a Panda Pillow Pet, summoned out of nowhere. He tossed it to her. "Think fast."
She caught it effortlessly. He smiled. "That's my daughter."
Eleanor smiled down at Kate. "Why don't you go grab the Checkers? We can liven things up." They'd finished their grilled cheese sandwiches, sitting on the carpet in their spacious living room.
Kate grinned widely. "All right. Yeah!" She jumped up, went upstairs.
She opened the cupboard where they stored the board games. She grasped the Checkers board, right as a loud boom echoed outside. The chandeliers in the hallway shuddered.
Kate stepped back, looking around nervously. "Mommy?"
Another explosion, this one louder than the first. The lights flickered and the room shook.
"Mommy!" Kate ran out of the hallway, panting hard. She trotted down the stairs as fast as she could, looking around wildly for her mother. "Mommy? Mommy, what's happening?"
There was no response, save for the sounds of battle and explosions outside. Kate heard whooshing, too, as if people were zooming past the penthouse.
"Daddy, where are you?" She screamed, tears running down her cheeks. "Dad? Dad. Daddy, where are you? Please!"
She yelped as someone grabbed her from behind. She whirled, only to see that it was her mother. "Mommy!" she gasped, and hugged her tightly.
Then, the room tore apart in a blinding explosion. The chandelier slammed to the ground an inch from the pair, as the roof was ripped off like a band-aid, and tiny shards of glass sliced little cuts into Kate's cheeks as they whizzed past her. The windows shattered and the wall collapsed, revealing the horrific scene outside.
Manhattan was under attack, as… things on flying vehicles poured out of a hole in the sky, shooting and killing everything. Whale-sized snakes clad in otherworldly armor rammed into buildings, knocking down skyscrapers like bowling pins. Fires burned and debris fell as far as the eye could see. Overcome with sheer terror, Kate could do nothing but loose a terrible scream.
Drawn by the sound, one of the flying monsters stopped, and approached. It aimed itself, and readied to fire—
An arrow sprouted in its neck, and it fell forwards, leaning on the controls. It careened towards Kate and Eleanor, crashing a few feet in front of them. It exploded, orange and yellow flaring before them. Kate felt the heat slap across her face, and instinctively stumbled back.
Kate stared at the man who'd saved her life, awed. He wore a black and purple outfit, carried a black bow, and had short hair.
Though she did not know who he was then, he would come to be known by the world as Hawkeye.
"Kate!" Eleanor shouted. She gripped her shoulders, and squatted down so they were eye-to-eye. "We have to get out of here."
"But Daddy! He said he'd protect us! Daddy said!" she was sobbing, her voice breaking.
Eleanor held her close, fighting back her own tears as Kate wept into her shirt, looking out at the ruined city.
There was a citywide wake two weeks later. Demand for funerals had increased so much, actually organizing everyone and getting a coffin and a grave became next to impossible. To alleviate the problem, the city organized a massive memorial service for everyone who had died in the Chitauri Invasion. Hopefully, they reasoned, people would be satisfied with the memorial, and some would decide not to do a personal funeral.
Kate lost three cousins, including a toddler who'd been two weeks from his third birthday, her only aunt and uncle, and her grandparents. She was inconsolable, like many others at the service, crying softly. Eleanor felt the loss as deeply as Kate did, but worked to stay strong for her only daughter.
"W-what if they come back?" Kate managed some time later. Her eyes were red and puffy, her face damp.
"They won't come back." Eleanor whispered, stroking her hair.
"How do you know?" she whimpered.
"Because the heroes showed them what would happen. And even though this is scary, I'm still the luckiest woman in the world because I have the greatest little girl in the world." she sniffled, her resolve cracking slightly. "W-who is not that little."
Kate wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "I need to protect us. Because Daddy… Dad didn't." she inhaled shakily.
Eleanor shook her head. "Kate, that's my job. Okay? Whatever you need, I'm here for you."
"I need…" she wiped her face again, a steely fire settling into her blue eyes. She remembered the invasion, and the man who saved her life.
"I need a bow and arrow."
"With the strength you bring us, we'll rise again!"
"Avengers unite, 'cause we've got to hear you say!"
"I could do this all day!"
Clint Barton sat with his family, at the opening night of Rogers: The Musical, a musical biopic of Captain America's life that took, er, liberties. No pun intended. He sat in the front with his family, and he wasn't very impressed.
He'd been trying to avoid looking at her for the entire play, but then Natasha Romanoff's actress was in the middle of the stage, and he couldn't look away.
He was back, back on that hellish planet, looking down at her pleading face. The air was brittle and cold, and he hung on to the edge of the cliff, as she clutched his hand.
"Let me go." she whispered.
He couldn't see anything through his tears. He shook his head. "No, please… no."
She smiled sadly. "It's okay…"
Then she kicked off of him, and she was falling, falling, falling—
"Dad?" Lila asked.
Clint started, and looked over at his daughter's face. For a moment, she thought, he looked distant, as though he weren't seeing her. Then, his eyes cleared, and he was sitting beside her again. "Did you turn your hearing aids off?" she asked, though they both knew he hadn't.
"No, honey, I know what happens. I was there." he rubbed his face. "But you know who wasn't there? Is that guy." he pointed. "Ant-Man."
He stood. "Um, I need to go to the bathroom." Muttering apologies, he scooted away towards the bathroom.
He splashed water on his face, trying to catch his breath. He looked down, and his eyes settled on a small black graffitied message.
Thanos Was Right.
A man opened the bathroom door, and gasped. "Holy shit!"
Clint looked up from the bathroom sink.
They mumbled, "A selfie would be really rad, dude. My kids would flip. You're their absolute favorite!"
"Oh. Um… sure, I guess."
In the winter after the Invasion, Kate was expelled from her 5th grade school. Thankfully, it had come at the end of the school year, so her mother enrolled her into a school that many other young, rich juvenile delinquents attended: Yancy Academy.
It was there that Kate Bishop met eleven year old Percy Jackson. Well, he turned twelve almost immediately after school started in August, but she liked to pretend he was still eleven, just to needle him. Though, of course, she'd just turned twelve just a few months before, on May 7th. They became fast friends, and poor Grover was forced to watch over two demigods, not just one.
Kate fought Mrs. Dodds alongside him, went to camp alongside him, and quested in June of 2013 to retrieve the stolen lightning bolt alongside him. She rescued Grover with Percy and Annabeth the following summer, and Artemis and Annabeth that winter. She delved into the Labyrinth with her friends in 2015, and defended Manhattan from Kronos's forces the next year.
When Percy went missing, she did everything she could with Annabeth to find him, including rescuing Leo, Jason, and Piper at the Grand Canyon that year. She was (most unwillingly) a part of the Prophecy of Eight, and successfully (read: barely) stopped the world from ending on August 1st, 2017.
And so, satisfied with her questing, and all that she'd gone through with her friends, the Fates gave her a billion dollars, a private island resort, and let her live to a ripe old age, free from any more strife or conflict. The End.
…Is what she wishes happened after Gaea was defeated. Instead, the mightiest mortal heroes of Earth (well, mortal plus one Norse god) were not as good at their jobs as the demigods had been at saving the world. Not even eight months later, a buff purple alien with a name ironically similar to Thanatos killed half the population of the universe with a snap on March 29th, 2018.
Kate, Percy, and Annabeth, thank the gods, survived. But so many still died. Some of her closest friends. Jason, Leo, Piper, Chiron, Nico, Will, Travis, Clarisse, literally the entire Hephaestus Cabin, and so, so many more crumbled to dust that day. She only managed to sort through the ashes of her life, salvage what was left of camp, only because of her friends.
As though that weren't enough, her mental health was about as great as Fields of Punishment were for a vacation spot. She became depressed and anxious, at times barely able to function. She was tormented by constant nightmares. Sometimes, she was ten years old again, watching her home be destroyed by grey aliens. Other nights, she was deep in the Labyrinth, running down a corridor from something she could not see, something breathing heavily and intent on killing her, or worse.
She hated it. Absolutely hated it. Percy and Annabeth have trudged in the pits of Tartarus, she wanted to scream. Calypso lost Leo to the Snap, Connor lost a brother, and yet I'm the one who can't cope? Anything I've been through is nothing compared to my friends, so why should I be the one person who can't handle it?
No matter how much she raged, her problems did not go away.
It was as if she were constantly wrapped in a cocoon, the world outside an indistinct grey blob. She wasn't sad, exactly, but detached. Detached from the world, from her friends, from any emotion even resembling happiness. She'd heard what depression was like, but it was something else entirely to experience it firsthand.
She was alone, drifting in the ruins of her life. For five years.
She spent those five years in a haze, filling her time with practice and training. She left camp, moved to an apartment in Manhattan she'd inherited, and joined every fencing, archery, martial arts, and gymnastics competition she could find. She dominated, of course—she'd been doing them in life-or-death situations since she was twelve—but the endless rows of medals and certificates still didn't help. Attending college at Ormsby Mitchel University in New York didn't either. No matter how hard she tried, she could feel nothing.
Her friends drifted apart, as Kate's depression worsened and their camps needed them to deal with the fallout of the Snap. Still, they tried to reach out. The handful of times they'd hung out had been marked by sullen silence (from everyone) and the absence of Leo, Jason, and Piper was even more conspicuous.
Then, all of a sudden, everyone came back.
Chapter 2: Have Yourself a Very Destroyed Little Clock TowerNotes:Holy moly, thanks for all the comments and kudos and hits and stuff! In just a few days, this fiction has more kudos, comments, bookmarks, and hits than the one I've had up for weeks! You can have this one early, as a treat.
While I've got you, I may as well take the opportunity to plug my other fanfic, The Point of An Arrow. Just click on my profile name, go to works, and enjoy. Or, here's a link:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/35493772/chapters/88476391
Back to this fiction. Kate is my favorite character in Marvel, and I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying writing this. Every chapter title in this fiction, by the way, will be a spoof of the name of a famous Christmas song.
Anyway, have fun with this chapter! Feel free to offer constructive criticism (I always want to be a better writer) but be nice. ;)
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextChapter Two: Have Yourself a Very Destroyed Little Clock Tower
The Blip, it was called.
It was chaotic, it was loud, and it was real. As if she'd woken from a coma, as if she'd been born again, emotions came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm her. All at once, she could feel joy, amusement, excitement all over again. She'd spent an entire hour the weekend after the Blip wheezing with laughter, crying for joy, after watching—of all things—Titanic.
Over the year after the Blip, she began to piece her life back together. She reconnected with her newly returned friends—it was odd suddenly being 5 years older than Jason, Piper, and Leo—and with her old ones. Percy, Annabeth, Hazel, Frank and everyone else were mostly relieved to have their Kate Bishop back. And she was glad to have them back. So, soglad.
Kate stood at the top of the library, staring down the clock tower. It was a clear night, cold with no wind. She gripped her bow, absentmindedly drumming her fingers along the riser.
Sitting behind her, above the doorway to the roof, Annabeth tittered. "Look, you can back off if you really want, okay? If you can't make this, I'm not gonna think less of you."
Annabeth wore a grey Ormsby Mitchel University hoodie, complete with the steam-train logo with stars behind it. She wore dark blue jeans, and her blonde hair was tousled, her grey eyes glittering with mirth.
Kate rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Wise Girl. When I make this shot, you'll be doing my homework for the next month."
"Hey. Only Percy can call me Wise Girl. And when you prove that the bell moves back and forth, you'll be doing my homework for the next month. I'll email you my assignments from California."
"Typical Athena kid hubris." Kate snickered.
"Typical Apollo kid arrogance." Annabeth teased.
"Hey!"
Annabeth laughed. "You know it's true. Look, if we get caught, you're definitely gonna be kicked off the archery team."
Kate smirked. "Yeah, I know. But a bet's a bet, Chase."
Annabeth scowled. "Percy's rubbing off on you."
Kate flipped her the bird.
"Okay, so the real question," Annabeth said, ignoring her. "Does the bell swing back and forth, or the clapper swing back and forth? I say it's obviously the bell."
"See? I would disagree. I think it's the dangly thingy." Kate mused, angling her bow.
"It's called the clapper." Annabeth told her.
"Yes, the dangly thingy."
Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Nice outfit by the way, Kate."
Kate looked down at herself. She looked like a burglar or something, in all black. Her hair had darkened from brown over the years, now jet black, which she wore in a messy ponytail with bangs. Her hair fluttered slightly in the growing breeze.
She shrugged. "Yeah, well, sometimes, you gotta dress the part."
Annabeth shook her head. "You look like Will when the Romans were invading camp."
Kate snorted. "I do, don't I? I'll get Piper to fix me up, okay?"
"Yeah, she's excellent. Anyway, I know it's a bet, but are you sure that arrow won't damage it?"
Kate tilted her head back and forth. "Hmm, well… no."
The bow creaked as she pulled the drawstring, and she let her arrow fly.
It hit the bell, which dinged pathetically.
Kate scoffed. "Well, that was a bit of a letdown."
She reached a hand into her quiver, and grasped a celestial bronze-tipped arrow.
She rubbed it between her fingers, thinking. "Okay, you know what, just hang on. Let me just fix this. Give me a second."
She notched the bronze arrow, and set it on the arrow rest.
Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "Celestial bronze? Are you sure? It might cut through the metal of the bell."
Kate shrugged. "It might. It might not."
She aimed the bow, pulled back the drawstring, and took a deep, slow breath. She listened to her heartbeat, smelled the crisp air, tasted the snow that had just begun to fall, and felt the tense string under her calloused index and middle fingers.
She fired the arrow.
It zipped through the air, and whacked the bell hard, tolling loudly, as if it were supposed to.
Kate laughed. "Oh, my gods! That was amazing! Wow!"
Annabeth nodded, impressed. "Nice, Kate."
Then the metal groaned loudly. Kate whirled, and her smile faltered. "That's fine."
It creaked, and a thick divide marred the bell. Annabeth gasped.
Kate started tapping her foot nervously. "Right? I mean, it gives it character. All famous bells have cracks in them."
The bell fell from its place, onto the viewing floor, with a loud thud, no longer suspended. "Um, all right, that's, that's not great. But it could be worse."
The building rumbled, and the top part of the tower collapsed, destroying the clock and the bell, and the top fifth of the tower. Some more collapsing. Okay, top quarter… more collapsing… and now top third.
Annabeth's eyes were wide, her hands over her mouth. "This is bad."
The two of them were about to open the door and flee, before the door was slammed open by some security guard.
"Hold it!" He shouted.
Annabeth said, "It was me. I fired the arrow, and I pressed Kate here into watching me. She did nothing."
The guard stared at her. "She's… literally still holding the bow."
Kate opened her hands and dropped the bow.
Annabeth chuckled nervously.
The pair of them stood outside Grand Central Terminal. Both Kate and Annabeth were shivering in their coats, as Kate mentally prepared herself to call her mom. Annabeth had put on a puffy snow jacket, and Kate wore a dark green trench coat, a black beanie, and ripped jeans. The jeans hadn't been ripped when she got them, but a few fights with a few harpies later, and her light blue pants had a new look.
Annabeth blew into her mittened hands. "Never gets like this in New Rome, let me tell you. At least your mom knows about your demigoddyness, so maybe she'll be kinda chill about it?"
Kate regarded her. "Demigoddyness?"
She stuck her tongue out at her.
Kate smirked. "You don't have much of a vocabulary when it's cold, huh?"
"S-shut up." she managed, teeth chattering.
"You know, you've been away from New York too long, if the cold is bothering you this much. Maybe—"
"Will you stop stalling and call your mom already?"
"Hmph. Fine." she dialed the number. "Hey, Mom!"
"Hey, honey! I missed you." Eleanor said. Her voice was tinny over the phone. "Are you in the city?" She asked.
"Yeah, I am. I was gonna stop by my place and then come see you."
Annabeth nodded vigorously. "Yeah! Let's go to your warm apartment."
Kate shushed her.
Eleanor asked, "Will you come here first, please? Jack's over. I want to talk to you about something."
Kate's expression soured. Jack. Lovely. "Okay. I'll see you soon, Mom." She hung up, and looked at Annabeth.
Annabeth sighed. "We can't go to your apartment, can we?"
She shook her head.
Annabeth groaned, and signaled a taxi. "Look, I know it's not really my business—"
Kate was instantly tense. "What? What is it?"
Annabeth raised her hands like she was surrendering. "Relax. All I'm saying is that I think you ought to consider telling your mom about the quests you've been on? I know you try to keep her far from all this, but Kronos and Gaea—"
"Thanks for your input." Kate said shortly. "I'll take it under consideration. Your taxi is here."
Annabeth studied her. "Kate—"
"Taxi."
She looked at her for a long while, then sighed. "Alright. See you."
"Bye."
Annabeth got in the taxi, which drove off.
Did she feel bad about shutting down her friend like that? Yeah, admittedly, she did. But she didn't mix her sane life with her crazy one. Ever. She needed ironclad barriers between the two. She needed a world without everything that had happened. If the wall between her mortal life and demigod life broke down…
Kate swallowed, and closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled, feeling the cold air fill her lungs. She waited for the nausea to pass, the ringing in her ears to quiet, and started walking to her mom's place.
About twenty minutes later, she nodded at the doorman. "Good evening, Miss Bishop."
She beamed at him. "How's it going, Bartholomew? Wife, kids, all good?"
He smiled. "Wonderful, wonderful, Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" she walked into the building, and stepped into the elevator.
Fine, she wasn't religious at all, and she was the daughter of a pagan god, but Christmas was Christmas. She loved it.
Kate stepped out, and immediately found her mom. Eleanor turned and smiled. "Hi, sweetie."
"Hi, mom." She loved her mother. And not just because she had to or something—her determination, all that she'd accomplished with Bishop Security… It was amazing, really.
She wore a dark red dress, satin and sophisticated.
"Oh, you look amazing." Kate gushed. "What are we looking all fancy for?"
"Charity auction."
Kate's smile vanished. Gods save her from boring, inane charity balls. She'd rather go another round with the flock of harpies that had improved her jeans. "Ugh."
"I know, right? All those poor people and nonprofits relying on the more fortunate." Eleanor chuckled.
"That is not what I meant."
"Mmm. You know, as much as I love having you home for the holidays, I'm not thrilled that I'm about to replace an irreplaceable clock tower. I hear it was made in 1725."
"Bell tower, actually. Oldest university bell tower in the US, as the dean kept telling me." Kate muttered.
"Actually, it had both a bell and a clock, and you, overachiever that you are, managed to destroy both." Eleanor said.
She looked down. "What can I do to make it better, mom?"
"Well, I've started by cancelling your credit cards. We're going to have a talk about this tower you destroyed, without joking." Eleanor walked over to Kate, and locked eyes with her. "I know young people think they're invincible, and rich people think they're invincible and you've always been both. So take it from someone who hasn't, you're not. You will get hurt. So please, don't go out looking for it."
Kate tugged at the sleeves of her shirt, remembering the time she broke her wrist in the Labyrinth, when she was run through during the Battle of Manhattan, and recalled being tortured for information in Greece.
"Hurt. Right."
Eleanor sighed. "You get that from your father, you know. The confidence. Almost cockiness." She smiled, and said, "Why don't you make it up to me by putting on the fancy clothes in your bedroom and coming with me tonight?"
Well, she couldn't very well say no, could she? "All right."
She walked down the hall, before she stopped, staring at something on the wall, her heart pounding.
"Kate?" Eleanor's voice drifted down the hall, but it was tiny, faint.
Kate stared at the celestial bronze swords mounted on the wall, the sounds of a battle that ended almost eight years ago echoing in her ears. The desperate battle against Kronos's Army, her one-on-one duel with Hyperion, feeling his flaming sword plunge into her collarbone—
"Kate!" a new voice said.
Kate jumped, startled. It was Jack Duquesne, her mother's boyfriend. Her fear cooled instantly, turning to irritation. She didn't notice that she was rubbing the scar on her collarbone until she felt the remnants of the three inch long gash, ridged with a rough burn scar.
Kate dropped her hands and cleared her throat. "Sorry. Zonked out. ADHD and all that." She forced her voice to be level. "Um, so what's with all the swords?"
"Well, there's been a few changes since you've been gone, hon." Eleanor said, looking concerned. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Mmhmm. I'm fine, Mom." She said.
"Okay. Well, anyway, Jack's going to be attending the ball with us. Isn't that great?"
Kate forced a smile. "Yes. Great."
Eleanor nodded. "Well, we can't be late, so go change, alright? Meet us at the hotel and we'll talk there."
Kate continued down the hall.
Eleanor called, "See you there, honey!"
"See you." she breathed.
Once they were out of sight, Kate closed her eyes, and took a deep, shuddering breath, waiting for the metal swords to stop clashing in her head, for the fiery metal to pull itself from her shoulder.
Another deep breath, and she opened her eyes, walking to her bedroom to get dressed.
After all, she had a party to attend.
Notes:Chapter title derived from Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, written by Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane in 1943.
Chapter 3: Rockin' Around the Black Market AuctionNotes:Updates are coming too slowly! Now they're at least once every 3-4 days. Or sooner, if I feel like it. I've got a huge backlog of chapters, and I wanna speed this up.
Ormsby Mitchel University, by the way, is named after an obscure Union general who died in the American Civil War, who I feel doesn't get enough credit, so I named the university after him. He was an astronomer, too, with the nickname "Old Stars". The train in the logo for the university is a reference to his role in ordering the Great Locomotive Chase during the war.
I'm a history buff, if you can't tell, especially with the American Civil War.
Anyway, feel free to leave constructive criticism!
Enjoy the chapter!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter TextChapter Three: Rockin' Around the Black Market Auction
"Oh, you look like an absolute crazy person." Lila snickered, staring at her younger brother, Nathaniel. "You're a total maniac."
He was moving his eyes around wildly, a frozen grin on his face.
Clint laughed. "Alright, alright. Is anyone else hungry? Let's—"
In his pocket, his phone started ringing. He pulled it out, and glanced at the screen. "Oh, wait, wait. Momma's calling. Say "Hi!"
"Hi, Mom!" Cooper said.
"Hi, Momma!" Lila echoed.
"Hey, guys! How are ya? I miss you so much!"
"We miss you, too." they chorused.
"How was the show?"
Clint coughed, "It was, uh… it's over. It was big."
"We left halfway through." Lila told her.
Clint looked up, as Laura chuckled over the phone. "Oh, no! You guys all good?"
Clint turned off the speakerphone, and held it to his ear. "Uh, yeah, it'd be easier if you were here." he smiled. "I'd be less likely to strangle these kids."
"The whole point was for you to spend time with the kids." Laura chided.
"No, I'm kidding. We're having a really good time. We miss you. I miss you."
"I can't wait to see you guys tomorrow."
He switched it back to speakerphone. "Say bye, everyone!"
"Bye, Mom!"
"Love you!"
"Bye-bye."
Clint hung up. "Well, look, it's six days until Christmas, okay? We're gonna do a lot of activities. What's your favorite one?"
Cooper shrugged. "Gingerbread house, I guess?"
Clint pointed at him. "We're doing that! What else you got?"
Lila said, "Uh, Christmas movie marathon."
"Movie marathon, awesome!" He said.
Nathaniel raised his hand like he were at school. "Uh, ugly sweaters."
"Ugly Christmas sweaters! Great! We have to decorate the tree. There's a thousand things to do. It's going to be amazing, but most important thing, we're going to do it all together." he smiled warmly. "I love you guys."
"Love you, too."
"It's going to be the best Barton Christmas ever!"
A man walked up behind Clint. He turned. The man was older, in a chef's outfit. Considering they were at a restaurant, it seemed the owner had walked over. Clint's smile faltered. He suspected why.
"Dinner is on us. Thank you." he bowed.
Clint shook his head. "No, that's okay. It's really not necessary."
"It's necessary. You saved our city."
Sensing the battle was lost, he nodded reluctantly. "Oh. Thank you."
"Thank you." Lila chimed.
"Thank you, sir." Cooper added.
Nathaniel smiled up at him. "Thanks!"
Clint smiled uncomfortably.
Jazz music filled the air at the ball, as socialites mingled with one another. Kate stood off to the side, in an all black tuxedo, her long dark hair in a messy bun.
Eleanor and Jack waltzed to the music. Kate was happy to see her mom happy, sure, but not with Jack Duquesne. He was a sleazy, artificial douche with the depth of a puddle. She didn't trust him in the slightest—or most anyone besides her mom or the rest of the Eight—and couldn't understand how her smart, determined mom was falling for his act.
An old man with white, thinning hair walked over. "Excuse me, my dear, could you—"
Kate looked over and shook her head. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not a waitress."
He looked at her. "You're the little Bishop girl." He said it with breathless recognition, but not familiarity, as if he'd heard all about her.
She nodded slowly. "Yes, I am."
Monster in disguise, maybe? Maybe, but she felt as if she'd seen him before. And he'd called her the Bishop girl, as if he knew her more by her family than her deeds in killing monsters—
"Armand. Armand Duquesne." he said, offering his hand.
Duquesne. Well. That was that question answered. She shook his hand, and smiled.
He looked like he was waiting for something. "You used to come to my brownstone for brunch?" he prompted.
She nodded vigorously. "Oh, build your own blintz bar!"
"Precisely." He looked over her, and clicked his tongue. "You know, it's unfair. I never looked that good in a tuxedo in my life. I'd appreciate it if you wear something a little more lady-like for the wedding, so we won't be competing."
She rolled her eyes. Lady-like…
Then the rest of his words sunk in. "Wait, what wedding?"
He looked surprised. "You don't know? Eleanor and Jack." he chuckled. "Oh! Those secretive little love birds!"
Hurt and shock surged through Kate.
Her anger must have shown on her face, because Armand nodded sympathetically, his eyes locked on the dancing couple. "Believe me, I've done everything in my power to talk him out of it. But when he gets something set in that little mind of his, he can be… quite determined."
She gritted her teeth. "Seems like he won the jackpot."
Armand eyed Kate. "You think so? So does he." He shrugged. "I'm not so sure."
Kate didn't trust herself to speak.
Armand said, "So, how has the little Bishop girl been? You're majoring in—"
A little boy with sandy hair walked over and tugged Armand's sleeve. "Armand, I wanna go home. I'm bored."
Armand shook his head. "That's no way to talk, Armand. That's not the way you were brought up. Come and say hello to Miss Bishop."
Kate nodded once at him in greeting. "Hey. Another Armand, I see." her mind wasn't focused on the conversation in the slightest.
She clenched her jaw, steaming. How could her own mother, after everything they'd been through, conceal something like this from her?
But you've been hiding your own secrets, a little voice whispered in her head. Kronos… Gaea… your mother doesn't even know monsters hunt demigods.
Fine, so she hadn't been completely honest with her mom. That didn't mean… just because she… ugh!
Kate unknowingly twisted her face into a snarl, angered at herself, and at her mother.
The older Armand coughed. "Well, uh, I'm going make my excuses because it seems that you need to have a chat with your prize of a mother." He looked around for the boy, "Come on, Armand. Come on, boy!"
He tried not to run as he herded Armand away from her.
Evidently, he'd been scared off by her expression, she realized.
Without even knowing it, Kate had been doing the wolf stare Percy had taught her, which was usually reserved for intimidating thugs during quests.
No wonder Armand had been in such a hurry. Kate rearranged her face in a rough approximation of a smile, and made her way to her mother through the crowd.
She walked behind Eleanor, and hissed, "You're engaged?" her voice was harsh and low.
Beside her mother, Jack chuckled. "Oh, well, I guess the beans are out of the bag."
Kate didn't acknowledge his existence.
Eleanor saw the betrayal and fury in her daughter's eyes, and looked over at Jack.
"Can we have a little moment?"
He nodded. "Oh, of course, it's almost time for my other engagement anyway." he waved at Kate, "Bye." and walked into the crowd.
Eleanor inhaled. "Babe, I'm sorry you found out this way."
"How should I have found out, hmm? Maybe you'd have offhandedly mentioned it once you'd remembered I existed?" she spat.
Eleanor sighed. "I didn't intend to hide it from you. I just… got swept up in the romance of it. Really. I wouldn't try to lie to you like that."
Against her will, Kate found her anger dissipating. Her gaze softened a bit. "I don't know, Mom, this is just like…"
"Fast?" she guessed.
She nodded. "Yeah, it's fast."
Eleanor smiled. "I know. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you in the way you deserved. But… is there a part of you that could be happy for me?"
Kate remembered how her mom had looked as she danced with Jack. She hadn't seen her look so happy before. "Yes. Yes, Mom, of course. Um, look, I'm going to go get some air."
Eleanor nodded. "I understand. Come back to find me, okay?"
Kate nodded, and melted into the crowd.
She leaned against the brick wall outside, rubbing her eyes. She wasn't cut out for dumb charity balls…
Gods. Engaged. To Jack Duquesne. And she hadn't even told her.
Something whimpered at her.
Kat opened her eyes, and saw a golden retriever. He was dirty, kinda thin, and missing an eye. His fur was matted, his lone eye crusty with eye boogers.
In other words, he was adorable.
Kate cooed. "Heck of a party, huh?" she rubbed his soft head.
Then, the dog barked, and ran off.
She shrugged, and walked back inside, her shoulders hunched and hands stuffed inside her pockets. She opened the door, and walked past a hallway on her way to the party, before she heard voices echoing from that hallway, from a room at the end.
"I should've known that this empire of yours would be built on a lie." A scathing, old and high voice. Armand Duquesne III.
In reply: "By myself from the ground up. So whatever you think you saw is not true." That was… her mother.
Armand hissed, "Don't insult my intelligence."
She could almost hear Eleanor roll her eyes. "You're frankly insulting us both."
"I know what I saw."
"You are just—"
"Don't you try that on me." He snapped, curt. "I know all about that little trick. I gave you an opportunity to explain yourself."
"I don't want to argue with you." Eleanor said.
Armand sneered, "I've got powerful friends, too. The kind you don't want to mess with."
"Please!" Eleanor scoffed.
As he left, Armand muttered, "See you at Christmas dinner."
Eleanor sighed, and walked out of the room.
Right past Kate.
Kate said suddenly, "Mom, what was that about? Is that guy threatening you?"
Eleanor jumped violently, and turned around. "Kate! Why are you lurking in the hallways?"
"I was outside getting air. But was he?" she asked.
Eleanor hesitated. "Honestly? I have no idea. Come back to the party."
She glanced at the door Armand had left through. "Um, yeah. Okay. I will."
Eleanor nodded, and walked away towards the party.
This man had the gall to threaten her mother, to act like some bossy prick?
Moving quietly, the way the Stoll brothers had once taught her, she slinked into the doorway, following Armand closely. He ducked past crowds, into hallways, and through a kitchen. She dogged his every step.
Finally, they were in a wine cellar. In the middle of the room, some rows of rich people, including Armand and Jack, all in chairs faced a slick-looking man behind a podium. An auction, maybe? Kate, and some other people, stood outside tall shelves of wine, with the auction on the other side.
A woman walked over and handed Kate a tray with champagne glasses on it. "Here. Gary wants you to bring these down, right away."
As many years of being a demigod had taught her, the best way to get into places you didn't belong is to simply act like you did. Most people wouldn't give you a second glance.
The tried and true method that had kept demigods alive for millennia: bullshitting.
She accepted the tray, and gave the woman a warm smile. "Thanks."
The auctioneer distinctly resembled Lindsey Graham, Kate thought. Kinda heavy, same grey hair—she shook her head. ADHD, distracting her.
He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated, and we will begin."
Kate hid behind one of the wine shelves, peering at the auction out of sight.
She was also, not so coincidentally, situated right behind Armand and Jack.
Armand murmured to him, "I've reached my breaking point with your fiancée. Things are about to get very ugly."
Jack whispered out the corner of his mouth, "Why don't we leave Eleanor alone, you old goat?" His face was perfectly level as he said this, like a ventriloquist.
The auctioneer gestured grandly to a large triceratops skull next to him. "For our first item of the evening, we will be traveling back in time. We'll start the bidding for this magnificent skull at two million. Do I hear two million?"
He scanned the room, and nodded at a man who rose his sign. "Two-point-one, thank you so much, sir. Do I hear two-point-two?"
"Excuse me!" someone growled behind her.
Kate was startled, her heart pounding. She was instantly in fight or flight mode, but had the presence of mind to force herself not to bolt or start throwing punches.
A red haired guy, dressed in the same black tuxedo, glared at her suspiciously. "I was supposed to be the only one working here."
Kate took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and remembered the name she'd heard earlier. "Gary? Gary sent me to work here. So, unless maybe if you want to bother Gary…"
He scowled, and walked off.
Well, that was that problem taken care of.
"Two million seven, now two million eight. I've got two million seven right here, going once." The auctioneer looked around. "I've got two-point-seven going twice. Sold for two-point-seven million!"
There was some soft applause.
The auctioneer smiled. "Thank you. And I will remind you that this is for home display only. And you have no idea where you got it."
The guests chuckled, as Kate raised her eyebrows. Armand and Jack at an illegal auction?
"Who told you to come down here?"
Kate jumped again, and blood roared in her ears. Gods above, did everyone at this party get off on sneaking up on people? She was always so jumpy since everything with Kronos and—
She pushed those thoughts away, not in the mood for another flashback. She cleared her throat. "Um, Gary."
The man narrowed his eyes. He was bulkier than the other guy, with darker hair. "I'm Gary."
Oh, shit.
Kate was silent for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. Time to bullshit. "You see that's the problem, Gary, you don't even know my name."
Gary was utterly baffled, and Kate had to force herself no to laugh at his expression. "You know, uh, this is, this is not gonna work out. I quit."
"Wh—You can't quit. Hold on!"
He tried to stop her, but she vanished into the shadows. Demigod training.
He looked around wildly. "Where did she go?"
Meanwhile, outside, unbeknownst to Kate, a Russian gang was speaking in low tones just outside the auction.
In Russian, the leader ordered, "Come on, let's go. Move. Don't forget your positions."
Two of his underlings pressed themselves against the wall, guns at the ready, and nodded.
The guy on the left muttered, "Mine's on the left. Wish I was on the right, can't hear well out this ear…"
The other man nodded sympathetically. "Yeah. I'm sorry, bro."
The leader rolled his eyes. "Get ready."
Inside the room, the auctioneer grinned widely. "Up next, we have a very special piece. An artifact recovered from the wreckage of the Avengers compound."
This prompted a murmur through the crowd, who leaned forward.
He continued, "Now, you may recall the Ronin decimated the criminal underworld of the city, almost completely annihilating the status and power of the head of organized crime. The Ronin brought a brutal form of justice to his victims, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this very day. Now you can own this one-of-a-kind retractable sword, composed out of a strange, unidentifiable metal. We'll start the bidding at two hundred thousand dollars."
As he spoke, a woman demonstrated the sword, pressing the switch and releasing the blade.
Kate's eyes bugged out of her head. That sword… she'd only seen the metal type on it once. Marbled like wood from a tree burl, grey steel and celestial bronze was morphed and snarled against itself, the swirls of metal giving it an unusual appearance. Kate could feel the dark aura emanating from the weapon, as though the metals were fighting each other, like if someone forged a sword out of repelling magnets.
She didn't like it, and not just because it brought back unpleasant memories. It was a sinister, ruthless weapon. Luke had a similar sword—Backbiter he had called it—before it had been melted down into Kronos's scythe, which had very nearly killed her during the final confrontation with Kronos. She remembered feeling her soul draining away, her identity, her name, killing who she was. If it hadn't been for her father Apollo and the rest of the gods arriving after Luke had died—
She'd been clenching her fist so hard, she'd drawn blood. It ran through her fingers, and dripped onto the floor. She hadn't noticed, until she opened her palm, and stared at her blood-tipped fingernails.
Well, I've already painted them red, she thought dryly, So at least the color doesn't clash.
She wiped the blood off on her black pants, ignoring the stinging pain.
The auctioneer asked, "Do I hear two hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand, bidder bidder, do I hear two hundred fifty thousand?"
Some millionaire from Connecticut raised his sign.
"Two hundred fifty thousand, thank you, sir. Do I hear three hundred thousand?"
To her surprise, Jack rose his sign.
The auctioneer nodded. "Three hundred thousand dollars, looking for three hundred fifty thousand."
Armand hissed, "What are you doing, you dope?"
"I'm buying that sword." He replied.
"You don't have three hundred grand!"
Jack looked him dead in the eyes. "No, but you do, don't you?"
Kate frowned. Why wouldn't someone as rich as Jack not have three hundred thousand dollars? And why was his relationship with Armand Duquesne III so antagonistic?
Armand rose his own sign, and the auctioneer smiled.
"Three hundred fifty thousand, right here in the front."
Jack raised the sign.
Armand glowered at him, but did nothing.
"Do we go to four hundred thousand?" The man asked.
Jack nodded.
"Let's go to four. Four, thank you so much." the auctioneer said.
From her place in the shadows, Kate heard muttering from outside, people with thick Russian accents. She glanced outside the window on the door.
One muttered, "Moving to two."
Another man nodded. "Okay, everybody ready?"
Kate sucked in a breath and pressed herself against the wall behind the door as two men in dark suits opened the door and walked in.
Meanwhile, the auctioneer was trying to lure in more bidders. "Come on, ladies and gentlemen! This sword belonged to the infamous Ronin."
Armand spat, "Four hundred seventy five."
Jack scowled, and leaned back, shaking his head.
"I've got four hundred seventy five thousand here, it's going once. Four hundred seventy five thousand is going twice…"
There were no other bids.
"Sold! For four hundred seventy five thousand dollars." The auctioneer smiled. "Up next, we have lot number 3-0-9. The companion piece, the Ronin suit—"
And then everything exploded.
Notes:Chapter title derived from Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree, written by Johnny Marks in 1958.