And I said: hey, hey

Lights snapped on.
A radio in the corner buzzed alive with a crackle, pop, pop popping.

If crazy equals genius

They flickered, sputtering to life inside the dark room, focusing on a single spot in the centre: a wooden, ornate table.

The crew gathered round, bright lights flashing, dancing, growing, their shuffling footsteps echoing in sync.

Hey, hey, if crazy equals genius

A single bandaged hand slammed down on the dark red and brown rickety table with a wince, a map with messy red circles enveloping and increasing around a particular space on the left rolling out, other hands grasping the edges and holding them down to examine.

"Here."

Then I'm a fucking arsonist, hey

Heads turned, tense, alert.

I'm a rocket scientist

"That's where the last trade was made." A finger, jabbing, pointing. It was urgent, it seemed. So much so that the hand trembled. Not out of fear but hype. "Here's the others; at least, every one that I can trace. It's closing around a central area. Which means one of two things. One, I'm guessing it's gotten more risky so they're closer to home, rather than farther away. Reverse psychology? Who knows, who cares. Anyways, two, it's a trap." Spinning. A smirk. Then, off topic, "I've always wanted to make one of these."

A series of papers, tacks and string stretched across an entire wall and showed all information the group had on their target. Some nods. Laughter. A, "same."

Hey, hey, if crazy equals genius

"Point is, either way, we have to be there. Trap or not, we're done running. Done planning. Time to take action. If it is, indeed, a trap, we react accordingly. I have two people who promised to show up when I needed them and well, they haven't let me down yet. They'll be there. Also, I should address the fact that some of you are used to teams. Some of you work alone. However, when we strike, we strike as a team, is that clear?"

"As crystal," someone said.

"We strike as one. And we kick ass."

You can set yourself on fire

Whoops and hollers. A few hell yeah's. A damn straight. Some more grins.

But you're never gonna burn, burn, burn

Turning back towards the others, away from the map, away from the wall conspiracy thing. A hitching breath. "I'll be dead honest. I don't know the end. Shit, I have half a plan. I still have calls to make. Still have a risky meeting to attend. But I swear to you whatever happens, this will decide the fate of the end game. Because something bigger is happening here. This isn't just humanity. This is the future. This is . . . this is survival." Grim faces. Set faces. Determined faces. "This is justice. This is setting things right. This is fighting for what we know is true. They won't bully anyone anymore. Not us, not the innocent, not the helpless. Whether we win or lose, we put them to a screeching stop and we wreck them for all they're worth.

Hey

"You know a wise man once said, or rather, a man once quoted a wise man and said, 'If there's something wrong, those who have the ability to take action have the responsibility to take action.' And here we are, with the ability and responsibility to take action." A cough. "But of course, we are not here to steal the Declaration of Independence, are we?"

You can set yourself on fire

No's. Smiles.

"We could, if we wanted to, but we won't. But no, that's not why we're here now. We are not going to steal the Declaration of Independence."

But you're never gonna learn, learn, learn

"Gentleman," was the beginning of the end, "we have the ability to take action."

Clapping, slowly at first.

"Gentleman, we are going to break them into hundreds of pieces and they won't even know what hit them." Louder clapping and whistles, less sarcastic, more genuine respect and excitement buzzing, louder, louder.

"Gentleman," you said, eyes burning, "we are going break into Demons Run."

Hey

***

"Okay. On today's to-do list we have.... Pick up those tools from Home Depot...drop off those clothes at Goodwill...meet Loki and get there late so he's kept waiting because good god I am so petty and extra but he's kind of a dick so hell I do what I want....call Fury or show up in his office I haven't decided yet-"

You broke off, staring into the afternoon sun, miles and ages away from your stance in the middle a park near avengers tower, unease drifting into your thoughts like the clouds above melting into the ball of light that shone on your face.

An audible huff escaped your lips.

"Somethings not right." You stood, tapping the pencil in your right hand to your skull, squinting. Pacing, signing. "Nnnggg! I don't know what it is, but if something goes wrong I have the right to tell myself 'I told you so' so there. Besides, it's not like I've told anyone else about the plan, there's no way- there's no way anyone else could know. Not Loki, not The Devil. I'm safe. We're safe. Wanda and Pietro wouldn't- they wouldn't snitch. We're on good terms-" You continued to mumble, then finally collapsed into your previous position in your bench, one foot propped up on the seat.

It'd been months since you recruited Daredevil and ages since you'd seen Bucky or Coulson.

Months had passed and now it was edging into winter again while you planned and planned. That's what you needed, after all. Winter was the peak of your power; that's when everything had to happen.

But something wasn't ... something was there, scratching, picking, nagging and it wouldn't go away because you know that something was wrong and you didn't know what it was.

Perhaps it was that more people gave you more anxiety. Now, see, it wasn't just a few man team.

It was Spiderman. It was Deadpool, Antman, Daredevil, Wanda, Jessica Jones, Pietro, surprisingly, you and a sentient plant? That last one was really a mystery and you were 80% the thing was lost. All it ever said, (granted with different voice inflections or several times while nodding it's head), was: I am Groot.

"Come again?" You'd said, the first time you'd met it, the small, tree with arms and legs looking up at you expectantly.

"I am Groot," it said.

"Uh huh."

"I am Groot."

"Okay?"

"I am Groot."

"Is that all you can heckin' say cause we are going to have a really hard time communicating if that's all you're going to belt at me, mate."

"... I am Groot."

You flung your arms up. "Great. I'm the Ice Box, then. Sorry, not that. I'm Ice. Just Ice. Or (y/n). It really depends- I- don't worry about it. And you're Groot?"

A nod. "I am Groot."

"Nice."

And as you pondered these things, the nagging still picking and pulling and prying, you raised your eyes. And like a camera panning up, your gaze and features shifted and your blood ran ironically cold.

"Director Fury?" was your audible, silent shock.

And it was.

He was just there, alone, a dark turtleneck over his frame, the eyepatch over its familiar eye and the other eye that peered into your soul, delving beyond your sins and good deeds to your aura to your heart and almost past that, to a void that only he could see. He stood from the park bench he'd been resting on for who knows how long and slowly came to stand in front of you, and for once it was like you were equals.

In a frozen moment in time, pardon the expression, you could see him staring you down with those eyes and you began to move to take an action that never came. And that was because in a surprising call it stalemate, if you will, neither one was sarcastically insulting the other. One wasn't behind bars or a glass prison (usually you. Okay, fine, always you) and the other solemnly standing with hands behind their back, watching (mostly Fury. Definitely always Fury). The blood rushed back in the heat of the moment as the sun above you flashed brilliantly and the wind picked up, blowing through your hair.

And then you recovered, a half smirk half edge in your voice, "So do you speak first? Do I speak first?"

He held back a tsunami of replies (probably) as instead he reached out his arm and placed it on your shoulder. Point number two went to Fury yet again; great job Ice. The people in the park seemed to glance your direction all at once but somehow they were still moving and the ground was swaying. What a wild day. "Since the counsel has made a less stupid-ass decision, I have elected to ignore it."

You let that sink in, the reality buzzing in your bones, rattling, growing, bursting and you narrowed your eyes but managed to stammer, "I-"

"Do it." He said and that's when you realized that he was giving you a green light.

The plan that he somehow knew about, (Scott. Probably Scott. He was such a fanboy), was green lit by Director Fury himself. You could carry out your less stupid-ass plan and there would be no Avengers or assassins on your tail. Even though you'd definitely been a type of bus in his scope for years now because holy heck were you stubborn and you'd gone back and forth like a weird ass physics problem (Ice Box and Fury are mentally debating at 87mph. If Ice Box trips over the curb while making a pun and Fury loses an eye, what color hat is the alien tree wearing?) but here he was, letting you do your shit and giving it the go.

Part of you was so relieved that you wanted to collapse and never get up and the other part of you, your shoulder tingling with build up strength, excitement and exhilaration snapped out of it and in the span of mere seconds watched Fury disappear into the crowd with the biggest smile on your face that you could remember smiling in years.

Which is, of course, when Loki decided to show up, a shimmer of the air and the mind, a wicked slice of something unreadable, a man in a suit with an invisible snake dripping from his words.

"You know," came his casual ice breaker, "my brother thinks I'm dead and I'm the king of Asgard."

Kicking back into the bench you felt the elation from Fury's news fade away.

"So?"

"So I have places to be. Don't be a fool." And there was the insult. "I want the information."

"Oh are we pretending that neither of us was actually going to double cross the other?"

"Excuse me?"

"I just thought that we were staying the obvious-"

Darkness immediately descended on the autumn park, clouding, building and brewing. There was a look in his eyes that told you to stop playing around, to maybe be serious for five fricking seconds but really, when were you ever?

"It was an unspoken agreement, Ice Box. Don't tell me that you thought you could come out on top? I can make it all come back. The fear. Having no control. I know you need it."

"Oh, shut up. I'm not the same anymore. You can't bully me. I'll give you the inside information, alright?"

And you swung at his jaw.

The signature laugh of his surrounded you. He had never been there physically, apparently. Only nearby the last few times, taunting you and just out of reach. Close enough to see Fury and you meet but far away that he could interfere without the pain of a bruised jawbone. Props, Asgardian. You watched his figure fade and then caught a glimpse of the real one approaching you from the left.

Neither of you could cause a scene. You knew this. Not here. Not with Fury's newly acquired permission, not with people walking around on all sides who had not a shittin' clue as to what was happening in their midst. But you couldn't count on him not to.

"Let's start over," you said, and patted the park bench. He sat, the tension cackling.

The daggers in his suit glinted dangerously as he reached into a pocket, grasping a watch. "You have less than twenty-four hours to tell me everything I want to know," he began, "about earth that I can't gain from Thor. I want any weaknesses, big and small. I want it all. You know. We don't even have to speak of it. Also, I don't care what you do to Demons Run but I will be there. Please do act as though we've never met. It will be much less complicated, I assure you."

"Tell me why." You said, knuckles popping, foot bouncing. "You didn't get The Devil out of my head; that was just good timing. Why the hell should I cooperate? Why don't I call our deal off?"

"I have information you need. You haven't changed a bit, Ice Box. You'll always be a whore for information. You love solving things and figuring out what makes them tick. That is why, regardless of what is at stake, regardless of the justice you're fighting for or the people you're trying to save, you'll strike a deal with a psychopath. Because you need it. You live for it, learning secrets and crushing the life out of hidden stories. Don't lie to yourself."

He was right. Loki, god of mischief was absolutely right. Though, you weren't about to admit it.

"Say you're correct-"

"I am."

"-fine. You are."

"There you go. Small steps forward."

"And say I keep our deal."

"And you will."

"Let me finish, you ass. Why should I also act as though we've never met? I'm good at hiding secrets but I can be a terrible liar if I so choose."

"You won't choose. It will simply happen. If it doesn't, I will make sure it does. And then you'll be dead."

You paused. "Your illusions," you murmured slowly. "You'd kill me, then use them to stay in the clear so much that you'd waste your tricks on me, pretending that nothing had happened at all and no one would be the wiser- what else are you hiding?" He snickered.

"Another time, perhaps. See you there, kid. Don't die before I can kill you."

One breath. Two. Two evolved into three, four. You counted to ten before the mist and darkness completely dissipated, in which time Loki made himself scare and you shuddered. Now that he was gone, the whole thing rained down on your parade. He was going to be there; you hadn't planned for that at all. That must've been what was nagging you. Even with Fury's approval of your invasion to take down what you could of Demon's Run and this guy who ran it, the Devil, now you wondered if it was going to be too much. If Hydra joined in at all you'd be toast.

And for a fraction of a second, you couldn't comprehend anything.

There was a wave of depression, a wave of absolute despair and it washed you away even as you stood in the park in New York, undeniably frozen.

So this was it. To feel your veins and muscles fail you, to have the ground sway wildly beneath the soles of your feet, to feel utterly and uncomprehendingly shaken that your brain refused to compute, shocking you to a core you didn't even know was there. See, because to fight for justice, to have a will to continue there must be a price. It wasn't death, it wasn't a form of mental health it was an unspoken agreement that came with good. Because that's what you were. You'd once claimed inside your head to perhaps be an anti-hero but the truth was that you were good and there was a price that came with being good. And this despair you felt, this overwhelming feeling of loss, this was it. So this was it.

Had it come because you'd finally accepted your place? All the times before, with Coulson, with Garett, with Ward, with Bucky and Spiderman, with Daredevil and Deadpool you'd never claimed to be good. You only claimed that there was a fight? A War. A war that you must win because if you didn't oh holy shit if you didn't ... the balance, the oh so fragile balance that hung in the air would shatter.

But you were good. You saw that now. You saw that and as the despair overrode every other system in your functioning body, you were content.

You blinked, the wind tossing your hair about and the sun blessing you with its rays.

And you smiled.

"Alright. Let's do this."

***

The morning of your invasion started off, well, it started.

There was no sun, only clouds and a grey that stretched far beyond where your eyes could see or comprehend. There was a chill in the air, a strange cold seeping into your bones right through the material of your equally grey sweater.

Your crew had exited your hideout and one by one climbed the ladder that led to the surface.

Once the top was unlocked, the bolt shifted and the entrance raised up, revealing the outside world, snowy and calm.

By the time you stood on the boundaries of Demon's Run, the world had changed to afternoon. It had been too silent for you to get your hopes up; maybe they didn't know you were coming. Maybe this would go off without a hitch.

But as you motioned to Deadpool to begin your heist, Groot on your shoulder, you doubt that that was so.

In a blue blur of motion, you glanced left to see a red light dancing from behind a tree and a patch of snow caught you in the face. You laughed. "Wanda! Pietro! So glad you could make it."

Pietro shrugged, gave off a smirk. "Yeah, well, who are we to miss kicking evil's asses?"

His sister rolled her eyes. "Happy to help, Ice."

"Ah, good, you did get the memo. Great." You cracked your knuckles, rolled your shoulder and blinked, breathing in the fresh, unforgivable air. Your heart began to beat faster. "Shall we get started?"

Matt pulled on his mask; Peter gave a thumbs up. Scott leapt and shrunk onto Wades's shoulder. Jessica crossed her arms and Wanda and Pietro nodded.

You took one step when a mass of black stepped out of the trees and the building in the distance have a menacing hum.

"Ice!" Came a voice you hated recognizing. "And here I thought you were going to be late."

***

In the center of the facility, a microphone in hand, the Devil grinned, all teeth, his eyes bathed in an eerie, queer light.

"Ice!" He said, and waved a hand. The other three parted ways; the man in purple left for an elevator, while the man in green and gold simply vanished and the third, Ward, motioned to a pair of guards and he took a second sweeping look around the room, a pointed one at the kid, (because he was a kid, but also a leader and a terrifying one at that; not that Ward cared), before him, and exited through a heavy padlocked door. "And here I thought you were going to be late! Ah, well, I suppose that wouldn't do, would it?"

He watched you frown. "Hate to keep you waiting, Devil."

"Mmhm. Likewise."

A monitor on his right beeped, an afterimage of a heart that was pounding, beating, a something surrounding it, an occasional electric shimmer, the heartbeats getting faster as the stakes got higher.

"What do you say," he said finally, and the grin was back. This was chess. And he never lost. "To us playing a little game?"

The fight had begun. The others on either side of Ice leapt into action, black figures mixed with ones of red, grey, blue. What seemed to be a living miniature tree screamed something unexplainable and his roots slammed a body backwards as the Devil's laughter filled the mic.

"A game?" Ice asked, eyes shooting daggers.

He snapped his fingers. Oh, yes. "A game of chess, to be precise."

"Chess. You want to play chess, with me, the Tortured Genius, in the snow, in the winter, while I have the upper hand?"

"Why, Ice, that's the best part."

_______________________
A/N:

Ya boy, who hasn't seen Infinity War yet, as the spoilers keep coming in in heaps and waves: I'm fine. this is fine
My friends, who can't remember who saw IW and who didn't and accidentally let a spoiler slip: why are you running

anyways so it's like what, summer now and uh I graduated ??? So that's a thing!!!!!! I'm very happy abt that

and I know I said I was going to update (oops and we hit 8k while I was away HELL YEAH THANKS YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST) but life is finally not drowning me so I'm bound to update like 2morrow bc heck wowie am I irresponsible and I really want to finish this or else I might forget about it entirely y'know

did I tell you that I forgot how to spell my name twice in the last two weeks???? There's like four letters in my name why am I like this

that's a mood

also my writing style has changed a LoT and I keep going back and reading my writing and going "oh that's gross no no god no" and so maybe those who're are new wont have to experience how awful it was I'm so sorry about that and those who have stuck around you guy r the real ones!!!

right so if you liked this, uh if I'm missing something or you just need more Groot involved in this shit mess of a story which has an ending I assure you then please comment, vote and share!!!! That would make my day ✨

mr stark ... I don't feel so good ....
styx