Somewhere hidden in Maryland is a secret location where the dead are buried. But not merely any dead. But men and women who lost their lives under rather unconventional means.
Heroes.
Slain on the field of battle protecting the world from unnatural threats.
And sometimes, the living found there way to this place as well. Today, Buck Chisholm is one of the living amongst the dead. Despite life's efforts to make the man otherwise. He's survived things that most others would fall to their knees and praise the Lord for.
But Buck was not the religious sort.
Today he has not come to mourn however. He has just come to see the man he helped raise; so that maybe, just maybe, the dead fool buried here could hear him gloat.
One could dream could they not?
"Well, Barton I always said that that hero crap would get you killed. And like always, I was right. But you couldn't hear it. Thought the old man was just being cold. But being cold keeps you alive. What did being a hero ever get you but a smashing from a big, green lunatic?" The last question escaped Buck's mouth in bitterness, "Hope it was worth it."
"You know it was." Jack Flag said as he approached from the rear, Buck's head turning to the voice. "And it still is."
"What the hell do you want? Can't a man mourn in peace?"
"Wow. That's what you call it? Oh, and I missed you too "dad"."
"Whatever, kid," Grunted Buck, removing a cigarette from a pouch on his hip. Then lighting it as the younger man came to stand to his left. "How did you find me?"
"I looked for you in the last place anyone would bother to look." Jack explained, waving a hand around the graveyard. Years back, Clint, Jack, and both their brothers Barney and Drake, who were all orphans at the time; had found themselves a home within a traveling circus. And as the wards of both the Swordsman and Buck, who went by the name of Trickshot. The years then had been full of adventure and fun. And the boys thought that their two guardians were Gods amongst men.
But in truth, they were Devil's.
Manipulating the young men to be their own personal army. Clint found out their true intentions and fled. Barney soon followed, and yet, Drake and Jack remained. It wasn't until the death of Drake that Jack began to see the light. And came to the realization that Buck and Swordsman couldn't care less for them.
That they were expendable assets.
Proven not by the lack tears of shed by both men. But by the fact that they were replaced. Hurt, Jack left, and went off to the Army. He then built up his rank, and eventually started getting smoozed by SHIELD. Next thing he knew, he was fighting side by side with Captain Steve Rogers and the X-Man, known as Wolverine.
And he never looked back.
"So what is this kid? We gonna' fight? Is that it? Came to put a beating on the old man?"
Buck turned to face his former ward. Both fighters stood chest to chest, and eye to eye. Buck blowing smoke rudely into Flag's face.
"No. Actually I'm here to offer you a job. Figure I'd throw you a bone, for feeding and clothing me all those years ago." Jack said. "Even if you are an a$$hole."
"Wait... what?" Buck had not been expecting that. An ambush, sure. A kick to the nuts, maybe even a stabbing. But this was not something he was prepared for. He had always said that Jack would probably be the one to try and kill him if they ever met later in life, but to offer him a job..?
Wow.
"What's the catch? I'm not exactly the most hirable guy."
"No catch. All your records are to be wiped clean the moment you sign the dotted line."
"Who sent you? Was it Fury? Is this a SHIELD thing?" Asked Buck.
"No, it's a HAMMER thing."
"What the hell is HAMMER?" Buck asked again. Far more annoyed this time.
"It's new." Answered Jack before twisting on his heels and walking away. Leaving his former instructor behind. "You coming are not old man?"
Buck stood in silence for several minutes. Then cursed loudly before following the young hero to a gleaming black limo.
And it was a good thing too. It was starting to rain.
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