Chapter Text
City sidewalks, busy sidewalks
Dressed in holiday style
In the air there’s a feeling,
of Christmas
A chorus of groans echoed through the quinjet as it touched down in New York City full of SHIELD specialists ready to help the field containment units. In the three hours since Iron Man had redirected a nuclear missile through the closing alien portal, a nor’easter had blown in to paint the city in cold, wet snow.
Not that he held Christmas in any higher regard than any other official holiday, but even Grant Ward thought it had been particularly rude of Loki to launch an alien invasion on Christmas Eve. So instead of kicking off his shoes, opening a beer, and reading a good book (or at least going on a mission in a location that was warm), he was sent in to help with a city-wide emergency clean up before any dangerous weapons could fall into the hands of unscrupulous citizens.
Joy to the world.
As they each collected their containment gear, Agent Sitwell called off their zone assignments. “Davidson, Elliott, Rutgers, you’re on 33rd St from 11th to 9th Ave. Butler, Sands, and Thomas, 33rd for 9th to 7th. Fellows, Madison, and Ward, 34th St from 8th to Broadway. Your containment center is located at Herald Square on 34th, bring any tech you find there. Your areas should be clear of civilians by now, but if you find anyone direct them to Madison Square Garden, there’s a reception center there. Remember to focus on active tech, there’ll be other teams behind you for the rest.”
At that, he signaled for the pilot to lower the ramp and sent them off into the storm. Ward sighed and hitched up his collar around his ears. Outside, the street looked like a scene from the Twilight Zone; on the one hand, the street was decorated with red and green Christmas decorations, wreaths on the lamp posts, trees on the corners with red buckets for bell ringers, toys in brightly designed window displays, and the snow falling around them gently with the occasional stormy swirl. But instead of shoppers filling the streets, there were SHIELD agents scurrying about picking up debris; instead of taxis and impatient drivers clogging the streets, the cars sat silent under the crushing weight of alien flying crafts that lay where they fell; instead of bells and carols, the sounds around them were full of the crackling of a nearby building on fire and shouted orders; and mixed in with the snow was a dark gray soot from nearby explosions.
He didn’t even bother trying to use the comms; he just gave a hand-signal to his partners to say he was heading to the far end of their zone on 34th street. The junk wasn’t going to be picking itself up.
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Children laughing,
People passing
Meeting smile after smile
Madison Square Garden was teeming with people when Skye pushed her way in through the door, desperate to find a little heat and - if she was lucky - a place to plug in her phone. She’d been outside for hours now, first trying to capture a video of the attack on her phone, and then stranded after her van was crushed by an alien as it smashed into the street.
Of course, the alien crashed because Iron Man had just swooped by and annihilated it. So she could almost forgive the loss of her van. Except that it meant she was now homeless, in the middle of New York, where hundreds of thousands of people were also stranded. That sucked.
Rubbing her hands together, Skye found her way to a vendor that was passing out cups of hot coffee as fast as her machines could make it. Skye reached for the cup and moaned in appreciation as she sipped at it - not the hottest in the world, but enough to warm her back up so she didn’t feel like a snowman. The charitable barista chuckled without pausing as she refilled the water reservoirs. “Nothing like a cup of joe on a cold winter’s eve?”
“Definitely,” Skye agreed along with a couple of other customers. The crowed thinned slightly as it became clear there was no more coffee for the next few minutes, but Skye leaned against the cart. “Mind if I charge my phone up here?”
The barista grimaced. “Wish I could help you there, but I’ve only got the one outlet and my machines already max it out. Think they’ve got charging stations set up in the arena, though - emergency supplies are in there, too. You look like you might need a dry set of clothes.”
She looked down at her soaking wet jeans clinging to her legs; she’d been so cold she’d stopped noticing an hour before. “You’re probably right. Thanks!” Giving her coffee angel a cheery wave, Skye followed the crowd to the arena entrance. Stepping inside, she had to stop for a moment in awe (leading to someone knocking into her from behind, though it wasn’t bad enough to fall at least) - the arena was huge, and it seemed like every space was filled with people. There were several obvious emergency stations set up with signs for organizations like the Red Cross, Catholic Relief Services, Salvation Army, and groups she didn’t recognize but assumed were local charities. Voices echoed through the hallway, indistinguishable but with their own sort of melody. She’d expected panic among people who were now homeless or stranded in the city, but everyone was working together, standing politely in line as they waited for blankets, food, coats, basic first aid, or, thank heavens, an open outlet on a power strip. Skye made her way over to the charging station and joined the line. And older man, his skin darkened with age but with laugh lines around his eyes, stepped up to greet her. “You calling family?”
Skye shook her head, the usual chill washing over her as she was reminded how alone she is in the world. “Um, no, just gotta charge it up; ran it down during the attack.”
“Would you mind waiting a few hours?” the man asked her. “We’re trying to let people who need to call family charge up first, let them know they’re okay and make arrangements to get home.”
“Oh!” Skye stepped out of line quickly. “Sure, no problem. I get it, people must be freaked.”
“Well, it’s been kind of a freaky day,” the man agreed. He turned to ask the next person in line the same question as Skye hung back awkwardly, unsure where to go. She could go looking for those dry clothes, but then, her clothes were already starting to dry off in the heat of the arena, probably augmented by the body heat of so many thousands mingling in the same place. The man noticed she hadn’t left, and turned back. “You got people here with you?”
“No, just me,” Skye shrugged. “Sorry, guess I’ll just, um, I’ll be back later.”
“If you don’t got anywhere to go right now, I could actually use your help with something.”
“Yeah?” Skye followed him as he led her toward the stairs going up into the bleachers.
“Yeah,” he echoed her, and he held out his hand. “I’m Nick, by the way.”
“Skye,” she responded, shaking his hand firmly as they walked together.
“Here, let me introduce you to the crew…”