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This is not the first time they have assembled aboard the Helicarrier, and if anyone present can help it, it won’t be the last either.
“Civil War” Maria Hill said softly, putting a bit of a hiss into the words. “Of all the idiotic plots they could have brought up…”
Dr Strange shrugged, “Apparently, the Comic Books are going through a phase of heroes fighting heroes.”
Tony snorted “As if we don’t have enough bad guys to fight already – both on page and off.”
No one was going to argue with that.
“So” the Director of SHIELD sent a questioning glance around the room “Suggestions.”
“We can’t stop it, I’m afraid” Steve Rogers reported, now fully in Captain America mode “We found out too late.”
“Remind me to barbecue Wade” Tony muttered.
“He’d taste like crap” Clint commented “Let’s just send him to-“
“Even if Wade Wilson had reported back as soon as he was able, I doubt we would have had time” Steve interrupted whatever the archer was about to propose. “Apparently, the Writers themselves are somewhat undecided on the matter.”
“Great” That never ended well. At least with shorter, more contained plots, there was at least a coherent narrative, even when it butchered their characters. “So this is definitely a confirmed event?”
“Unfortunately, yes” Strange confirmed “After Deadpool reported back, I took a look for myself. They are determined to send us into a civil war.”
Hill glanced through the file before her, though she already knew every word on it. “Okay, the Registration idea has some merits, I agree, but what exactly is it? What does it entail, when it comes to specific laws?”
“They haven’t decided, according to latest reports” Rogers admitted “Wade might be messing with us, but I think it is more likely that he is telling the truth – the Writers, or rather, the Editors, are keeping the particulars of the Registration Act as vague as possible.”
“Any idea why? Other than sheer laziness, I mean?”
“Possibly to make sure their favorite sides are in the right” Natasha suggested “After all, if the actual terms and conditions of the Registration Act is not specified, a Pro-Registration Writer can make it seem as simple and normal as getting a firearms license, making those who oppose it look like spoilt kids at best. At the same time an Anti-Registration Writer can make it seem like conscription and slavery, making the supporters look like fascists.”
Hill refused the urge to slam her head into the desk repeatedly. The Writers kept finding new lows, didn’t they?
“What I don’t get is” Tony Stark interrupted “why the hell am I leading the Pro Registration side? I mean, hello, have these guys freaking seen me? Why can’t Cap lead the law-and-order bunch?”
Hill almost considered reprimanding him for the irreverent tone, but decided against it. Partly because she knew only too well it would be useless, partly because…
Well, the coming plot was going to be harsh on all of them, but the worst on Stark and Reed, if what Deadpool reported could be relied upon.
Steve hauled the still spluttering genius back into his seat “Never mind why they do anything. We already know they never make any sense. We need to decide what we are to do.”
“I suppose there is no hope of diverting the plot?” Hill looked at Strange. If any of them had a chance, it would be the sorcerer. He had done it in the past, and they know it.
But this time, Strange only shook his head sadly “No. I can only twist the plots by reaching the Writers’ dreams, but for that I need advance warning. Now the plot is already in motion. I can’t halt it.”
There were several slightly – or not at all, in Stark’s case – stifled curses. Apparently, most of them were counting on the doctor to pull a rabbit out of the hat as well.
“Alright” Rogers said “So we work damage control.”
There was definitely going to be plenty of damage to go around. Hill hoped fervently that Deadpool had been being his usual insane self about certain of the plot points, but she doubted it. even the Merc With A Mouth had looked shaken by what he found.
“Remember the most important part – Whatever happens On Page does not count.”
On Page, they are merely puppets of the Writers, moving and speaking as the script ordered.
“We have to stick together” he reminded them “No matter what happens. No matter what they make us do. On Page, none of us can resist. But we do have the Off Page hours. That is what we must use. Thanks to Dr Strange and Wade Wilson, we have advance warning of certain plot points. Most of them involve considerable damage and loss of life.”
Hill once again fervently wished for Deadpool’s ability to cross the Wall. Why the hell did the Writers have to cover the pages with bodies? Weren’t comics supposed to be for kids? At least teenagers?
“How much of said damage can we reasonably mitigate?” Reed Richards asked, leaning (well, technically stretching) forward.
“Whatever happens On Page, we can’t touch” Coulson admitted. “We’ve tried before. Believe me, it didn’t end well. At all.”
Hill remembered that attempt only too well – Fury had been in charge then. She wished they would bring the old one eyed bastard back soon.
It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy being in the command chair – she did, most of the time – but she lacked the ex director’s experience. Skill and guts she had enough to replace him, but experience and connections… Both would come in extremely handy at a time like this. Ah well, you play the cards that you are dealt.
“We will handle the off-page incidents. There will be some off-page deaths. Strange will warn us when they are coming up, right, Doctor?”
The Sorcerer nodded silently, fingers idly brushing over the Eye of Agamotto. “The Off-Page deaths will be faked. They won’t kill off anyone important off-page, so it should be easy enough for them to stay out of the way till it is resolved.”
“You will be on charge of that, Coulson” Hill directed “Put whoever it might be under witness protection. Maybe they will be brought back, maybe not. In either case, we can hide them.”
That wouldn’t work for any of the important characters, she knew. But if someone is not important enough for their deaths to be on-page, they are probably not important enough to be brought back.
“There’ll be On-Page deaths though, right?” Stark asked.
“Afraid so” Strange looked at him – and Rogers – with too much pity for Hill’s liking. Surely the sorcerer would have said something if either of them were on the hit list…
“I’m not sure who it is going to be, but there will be several named On-Page deaths. A couple early on, to show how serious the conflict is, and one very major one close to the end.”
A very major one. Okay, she most certainly did not like the sound of this. Nothing she – or anyone else, for that matter – could do about it, though.
“Our first priority has to be the…inciting incident” Rogers said.
Hill nodded. There, at least, there could be no disagreement.
“Inciting incident?” Reed asked.
Of course, not everyone had been fully briefed yet. Most will never be, But this information had to be shared. Unfortunately.
“The catalyst for the wide support the Registration Act would gain in the script” she stated.
Behind her, the screen changed to display a map of suburban America. Quiet little apple pie neighborhood.
“Stamford, Connecticut” she pointed, and the video zoomed in to display a pretty little township, complete with elementary school and playground. Saccharine alert. For now. But…
“What happens?” Sue demanded, eyes narrowing.
“The New Warriors are going to be killed” Hill said bluntly, then paused long enough for the first round of startled exclamations, cries and curses to die down
“Do…Do they know?” Sue asked “Has anyone told them?”
“I talked to them” Rogers replied “They are taking it as well as can be expected.”
“They’re damn tough kids” Tony muttered, still in shock. “But… Wait, they will be brought back, right? The Writers… They always bring people back.”
Not always. Not unless you’re popular enough. Were the New Warriors popular enough? That, unfortunately, remained to be seen.
“Perhaps” was all that Rogers could say by way of consolation.
“The script calls for them to screw up a mission pretty spectacularly.” Hill stepped in.
The young superheroes were experienced professionals despite their youth – not exactly the type to screw up that badly. But then again, when had the Writers cared about maintaining character development?
“The details are not important – I’ll fax you all the script later. But the point is that, there is going to be an explosion. An extremely large one that will destroy the whole town – and everyone in it.”
“Every…” Clint spluttered, his devil-may-care manner slipping “Wait, that would be…”
“The death count is going to be six hundred and eighty” Hill kept her voice perfectly calm, professional. Cold, perhaps. Cold will do. Cold was what was needed. “Almost a hundred of those will be children”
She indicated the elementary school. Another predictable round of curses followed.
“What kind of psychos do they have writing comics these days?” Tony demanded “Kids, Hill? Kids?”
She shrugged. “They don’t know we are real”
That is the mantra they keep repeating, along with Whatever Happens On-Page Doesn’t Count. They needed it to stay sane.
“But…But still…”
“They needed a major disaster to kickstart the conflict.”
“We can’t let this happen!” Clint declared, shooting to his feet. “We can’t, Hill!”
“We won’t” Rogers interrupted, his voice as calm and steady as ever. “I’m afraid there is nothing we can do to save the New Warriors. Their deaths happen On-Page. But the others… The Civilians…”
At a gesture from Hill, the screen behind her changed to display a page from the comic in question. The image of children in a playground, looking in puzzled horror at the fireball of an explosion hurtling towards them.
“This is not quite enough to count as On-Page death.”
A very bare difference, but they’re not going to stick at trifles here. Kids. Little kids. Hill is cold, but not that cold.
“So this scene also happens” Tony frowned “The kids are present when the blast happens. Which gives us what, a second? Two?”
…………………………….
“Everyone in position?” Rogers’ voice, over the comm.
“Yes”
“Yeah, Cap”
“I’m here.”
One by one, the speedsters and teleporters sounded off. This might have been easier had the X-Men’s numbers been not so depleted (the M-Day disaster will be undone, everyone is sure, but there’s no telling when. Or how). But at least they still had Quicksilver and Nightcrawler. And more importantly, one Sorcerer Supreme.
“Doctor?”
“Ready”
Strange eyed the deceptively peaceful town beneath him. The New Warriors’ disastrous mission was edging towards its climax. You can’t save them, Stephen. On-Page deaths. Focus on the ones you can save. Rogers started the countdown. Only seconds to go.
The sorcerer held the Eye of Agamotto cupped in his palms. It didn’t have the Time Stone – not anymore, the writers put a stop to that, it was apparently making him too powerful to write into most plots. Screw them. With or without an Infinity Stone, he is still the Sorcerer Supreme.
“Now!”
The blast. The fireball blossoming outwards. The New Warriors, Nitro, the Camera Crew, the villains – everyone gone
. On page deaths. The Sorcerer’s eyes glowed a brilliant green. The ancient spell he had been holding ready for the past minute flowed from his lips.
Time around them slowed to a crawl. The rescue teams took off. Strange could see them darting forward – or just vanishing and reappearing, in the case of Nightcrawler – returning with the civilians, one after the other. Six hundred and eighty. They have half a dozen speedsters.
Strange could feel his own heart racing, hear it in his head, and knew that even he couldn’t hold them safe much longer. Slowing time is the province of gods. The Sorcerer Supreme, even if he holds the power of gods in his mind, still inhabits a mortal frame.
He could feel his body struggling to bear up under the strain. It felt like holding back the speed of a locomotive, and that isn’t all that inaccurate a comparison. He could no longer hear Rogers’ orders – they’re cut off from the command center now, cut off by time.
The civilians… Six hundred and eighty lives. Unnamed lives, just numbers for the Writers and Readers. Shock value. Hold it steady, give them time, time…
…………………………
“Is it working?” Tony barked into the phone.
Damn the Writers for placing him this far away. He wanted to be there, right in the control center, even if he couldn’t be part of the rescue mission himself (the Iron man suit is fast, but not fast enough for what they had in mind)
“We don’t know” Steve’s voice was as calm and steady as ever, making Tony feel a bit ashamed for the clear shakiness in his own.
But dammit, kids! The Writers were going to massacre kids, and unlike the others, unlike the named characters, none of them would get to come back. They had to stop this, even if they stopped absolutely nothing else about this civil war.
“We can’t see what is going on at Ground Zero – whatever Strange is doing has removed it temporarily from this plane.”
Gee, isn’t that reassuring. Calm down, Tony. Stephen knows what he’s doing. A sudden uproar at the other end of the line. Steve broke off the conversation.
Tony swore, earning a look of disapproval from the nearest senator. It’s tough to refuse the urge to flip the old fool the finger. Of all the places the Writers could have placed him to weather out this particular event…
“Steve, what’s happening? Did they make it? Did we make it? Steve?”
……………………………..
“We made it” Strange whispered, barely able to believe it himself.
The civilians – all of them, Quicksilver is performing another swift count, just to be sure – were gathered around. The town is gone, of course. Nothing they could have done to stop that.
Just as nothing they could have done to save the New Warriors. But the civilians were safe. No massacre here, not off page. Off Page, they’re in control.
“You alright, Stephen?” Steve asked softly.
“Will be. Soon enough”
He’s only moments away from complete collapse, but for the moment, he could bear up. Stand beside Rogers and the others as they make the announcements, tell the civilians what to expect.
The civilians. It must be worst for them, he knew. To know that your lives are ruled by a comic writer’s will is bad enough when you know you are too important to kill off for real (but not too important to torture, oh no) But to be in there, knowing you are just cannon fodder, shock value…
But then again, regardless of what the Writers seem to believe, most people are sensible. They know the heroes are on their side.
Like now. There’s rage, yes, and frustration, but little of it is directed at the heroes. They knew the true enemy, even if it’s one they couldn’t reach.
He smiled a little on imagining what the scene would be like had the Writers been called to picture it. A rabid mob, most likely, given the current theme…
“Doctor?”
He must have passed out for a moment there. Danvers guided him off the stage – can’t have someone – especially someone who’s a big name hero - passing out before the crowd.
They had to seem invulnerable, undefeatable. They had to seem able to weather whatever the Writers threw at them, able to carry the civilians through.
“We will deal with this” Carol assured him. Oh. He must have said that last part aloud. The Cloak rustled around him, as if agreeing. “We have to deal with this.”
At least the Writers – and the Readers, perhaps – did them this one favor. Built them strong. Built them as the kind of people who could take as many hits as they had to, but would never stay down.
“We will make it through. We always do.”