A Good Man Is Hard to Find by Oneangrykate (G)

[dorothy1901]

Hi there, I'm dorothy1901, and I'm driving the crack van for Marvel Comics fandom this month. (Our motto: If you think the fanfic's cracktastic, wait until you see the canon.)


Fandom: MARVEL COMICS
Pairing: None
Length: 4.5k words
Author on IJ: oneangrykate
Author Website: Unknown
Why this must be read: This story practically defines "bittersweet." Set after the events of Civil War but before Secret Invasion, it tells of a well-meant effort by the Young Avengers to undo Steve Rogers' death. They have a possible fix, and the Young Avengers -- at least some of them -- are willing to give it a try. As Kate says to Eli, “Look, it either works or it doesn't. If it doesn't work, then no harm done. If it does work, then everyone will be too busy piling on the hallelujahs that even you couldn't stay cranky for long.”

There's a third possibility, though: it works, but without the hallelujahs.

A taste:

Behind the door, there's a loud crackle that sounds an awful lot like an exploding microwave oven in its death throes. The light grows blindingly bright, then dissipates.

Kate tries to rub the afterburn out of her eyes. “See? You'll have egg on your face when this all turns out perfectly.” She knocks. “Hey, you all right in there? Did it work?”

There's no response for a few moments. “We're fine,” Teddy finally calls through the door. “But things are… you better come in.”

Eli doesn't know what to expect, but he certainly isn't holding out for a best case scenario. He quickly begins to assume the worst when he sees a circular scorch mark ringing Billy's carpet and a dejected-looking Teddy huddling on the bed. “Is Billy okay?”

“I'm fine. More or less, anyway.” Billy's at the window, a bit wan, more propped up by Teddy than standing.

Eli does a double-take at the bed. The kid on the bed has his knees up to his chin and his arms wrapped around them. He watches them all with wide, baffled eyes.

Billy meets Eli's eyes and lifts a wavering hand. “Look, you can't say that it didn't work.”

Eli sighs. “Tell me what you did,” he says, though he has this sinking feeling that he already knows the answer.

Billy wobbles a little as he indicates the boy on the bed. “Everyone, this is Steve Rogers, age fifteen. Steve Rogers, age fifteen, this is everyone.”

At the moment Eli doesn't care how much it makes him sound like Grandma Faith, he has to say it anyway. “Guys, I leave you alone for one minute...”

A Good Man Is Hard to Find