Fishing the Multiverse

Once Jonas found his way out and up to the top, he eventually stumbled onto the command bridge of the Helicarrier. What he found was the aftermath of a battle—smoke, sparks, debris, and bodies.

Nick Fury spun and nearly shot him on sight.

"Who are you?" Fury growled, gun raised.

Jonas raised his hand slowly in a non-threatening gesture. "Hello. I'm here to help."

"Here to help who? Loki?"

"Loki? No, I'm not on his side."

"Then who exactly are you here to help?" Fury barked.

"Well, for one, I helped Black Widow avoid getting squished by the Hulk... and I got Dr. Banner back to normal—until Thor showed up and smacked him halfway across the Helicarrier."

Fury narrowed his eye at the young man. After a moment, he reholstered his gun.

"Fine. Come in. We've had quite a party here."

Jonas stepped in and looked around at the damage. "Looks that way."

"How are things?" Jonas asked casually.

Someone nearby giggled. Fury turned his head toward them with a glare that immediately silenced them.

He looked back at Jonas. "Are we trying to be funny in the middle of a dire situation?"

"Dire?" Jonas repeated.

"Yes, dire. We had a section of the ship blown to hell. We lost altitude and nearly crashed into either New York or the ocean. Lost my two biggest hitters—Thor and Hulk. Thor knocked him clean off the ship. I've got Black Widow tending to one of our injured. Cap's helping Iron Man get back online. Everyone else is scattered. Oh, and by the way, one of my best men died. Loki stabbed him to death!"

Fury stepped forward. "So... are you here to help? Or are you just wasting my time?"

Jonas gave a small smile. "I wasn't trying to be funny. Just asking for a status update."

Fury stared at him. "Well, now you have one. So how exactly do you think you can help?"

Before Jonas could respond, Captain America entered. He sat down, removed his mask, and gave Jonas a quick once-over—clearly assuming he was just another technician. He dressed weird, sure, but a pirate on a flying naval ship...is it that weird?

Then Tony Stark walked in, limping slightly, helmet under his arm.

He took one look at Jonas and said, "Why do we have Jack Sparrow on the bridge?"

Nick Fury glanced at Tony, then back at Jonas. "I'd like to know the same thing. Why do I have a pirate standing on my command deck?"

Jonas looked down at himself. "Ah. Well, it's not supposed to be a pirate getup. These are just… my clothes. Do I really look like a pirate? I think you look more like a pirate with that eyepatch."

There was muted laughter from Tony and Steve as well as other personnel. Fury gave everyone the stink eye.

"Well, at any rate," Jonas shrugged, "I can assure you—I'm not a pirate. I'm here to help."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to help us, Gold Rogers?"

Jonas smirked. "I can help in a lot of ways. Just tell me what you need. What's our situation?"

Tony crossed his arms. "You got powers? Super strength? Can you shoot lightning? Trained assassin? Mechanical genius?"

Jonas shook his head. "Nope. No powers. Not a genius. But I have been around. And for starters… you're running on a level-two arc reactor. With the right materials, I could bump that up to level fifteen. But that's beside the point."

He glanced at Fury. "I think I know where Loki's headed."

"You do?" Fury asked.

"I think he's going to Stark Tower," Jonas said—half asking, half declaring.

"Why would he go to my tower?" Tony asked, suspicious.

Jonas gave a small shrug. "Well… not to insult you or anything, but… he kind of reminds me of you."

Tony paused. "Damn. He's going to Stark Tower. That little prima donna."

Fury immediately began issuing orders to correct course toward Stark Tower, but the Helicarrier, while powerful, was far slower than a Quinjet or Iron Man's armor.

"I better get over there," Tony said, turning toward the hangar. "I'll see what I can do."

"Wait a second," Jonas said. "I might be able to help you out a little more."

Tony paused. "How?"

"Well… I can help fix your armor. Maybe give it a speed boost."

"I thought you said you weren't a genius."

Jonas grinned. "I don't have to be a genius to be effective. I have to put my mind to it. I might take longer than you to figure things out, but I get there eventually."

He pulled off his Captain America-themed backpack and tossed it.

"R2, go help Mr. Stark with his armor."

The backpack transformed mid-air, turning into a floating shield-like drone—still proudly red, white, and blue.

Tony blinked. "Are you a Captain America fan?"

Jonas laughed. "I suppose I am. This little guy is named R2. R2, be a good droid and assist Mr. Stark."

R2 beeped, spun once midair, and floated toward Tony.

Fury blinked. "Well… that's new."

Cap turned to Fury with a grin. "I only made one bet. I'm not giving you another ten bucks."

Nick grunted but allowed a half-smile.

Jonas laughed and gave a friendly nod. "So… how's it going?"

"Oh, by the way," Jonas began, "I could use a little help. You see, I, uh... misplaced my bag."

Nick Fury raised an eyebrow. "What kind of bag?"

"A brown suitcase. I tossed it at the Hulk to trip him up. It worked... but I really need it back. Any chance you could send someone to retrieve it for me?"

Fury gave him a deadpan look. "Are you talking about the area where Thor and Hulk fought?"

Jonas nodded. "That's the one."

"Well, that entire section is trashed. It's been exposed to open sky. Your suitcase is probably somewhere in freefall over Earth by now—and I don't have the time or resources to go chasing luggage."

Jonas flinched. "Ah. Right. I guess I'll have to look for it later."

Fury gave him a sideways glance. He found it odd that the man cared so much about a suitcase—but with more pressing matters, he let it go.

Instead, he asked, "What do I even call you?"

"Just call me Fisher," Jonas said.

"Fisher?" Fury echoed.

"Yeah. That's my name."

"Very well, Fisher. What else do you have for us?"

"Well... once we get to Stark Tower, I might be able to help. Maybe I should hitch a ride on a Quinjet?"

"You can't fly?"

"Why would I be able to fly?" Jonas replied, puzzled.

"You have a flying robot."

"That's the robot's thing," Jonas said. "Not mine."

Fury sighed. "Are you sure you can help us?"

"Well... I won't know until I get there."

"Are you armed?"

"I prefer not to carry weapons," Jonas said.

"Then how exactly are you planning to help?" Fury asked, increasingly skeptical.

Captain America, watching the exchange, thought the man was a bit strange, too. Jonas didn't seem particularly dangerous—just eccentric.

"I don't know exactly," Jonas admitted. "But I'm sure I'll be useful."

He smiled.

"So anyway... when are we leaving?"

Fury gave him a long, unreadable look—but so far, the stranger had been helpful. He nodded once.

Not long after, Jonas reunited with R2, who had just finished tuning up Tony's armor.

Tony, mildly jealous, muttered something about "pirate wizard cheat codes" and walked off to prep.

Jonas found himself onboard a Quinjet with Captain America, Hawkeye, and Black Widow, who was piloting.

She glanced back over her shoulder and smirked. "So, you're our new Avenger recruit. Captain Sparrow, I hear?"

Jonas laughed. "Just call me Fisher. And I'm not a pirate. I have an eccentric sense of taste."

"Well," Natasha said, "as I understand it, you have to be a genius to be eccentric. And I hear you're not one."

"Being effective allows for a certain eccentricity," Jonas replied with a grin. "I've already helped Iron Man—and saved you."

She glanced back and smiled faintly. "Yeah. About that... thank you for saving my life."

Then, with her usual cool authority, she said, "All right, boys. Strap in. We're heading to Stark Tower."

Jonas buckled himself in.

Steve turned to him, studying the red-white-and-blue droid floating quietly nearby. "Why does your robot look like my shield?"

"Well," Jonas said, "R2 was one of my first companions. But when I first found him, someone had already modified his dome—it's wider than standard. Kinda reminded me of your shield. So I thought, heck—why not paint it like yours?"

He nodded to R2. "He's still not a shield though. I wouldn't recommend throwing him."

"Then what is he?"

"He's an astromech. Sort of a mechanic for starships. Not much of the original body survived, just the head, but he's got skills."

"Skills like what?" Steve asked.

"Well, ship repair. Starfighter diagnostics. Hacking."

"Hacking?" Cap asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know—breaking into computers. Overriding controls. Digital stuff."

Steve frowned slightly. "Still getting used to all that."

"Show 'em, R2, what astromechs typically look like," Jonas said.

R2 chirped, then projected a hologram of a standard R2 unit, followed by a slideshow of other astromech types: R1, R2, R3, R4, R5, BB units, and beyond.

Jonas leaned back. "I've got a few of those. Not all are useful for what we're doing—but they're really handy in a pinch."

Black Widow glanced over. "Sounds like a good tool to have. Think I can get my hands on one?"

"Do you want one," Jonas asked, "or does Fury want one?"

"Both," she said with a sly grin.

"Well, let's take care of this mission first, then we'll talk."

She nodded.

Clint, sitting quietly nearby, gave Jonas a silent nod of appreciation. He had saved Natasha, after all.

By the time they arrived at Stark Tower, Tony was already there—and, unlike the original timeline, he had already begun blasting it out with Loki.

The Battle of New York… had begun.

"You see that platform over there?" Jonas asked.

Black Widow nodded. "Yeah?"

"Think you could get me near it? On it, or close enough?"

"What are you planning to do?"

"Well, I'm going to try to shut down the portal machine, of course."

"Do you think you can do that?"

"I can try. I can already tell from here that it's using the Tesseract as an energy source to maintain the portal and a barrier. If I can break through that, I might be able to deactivate the whole thing."

"I thought you said you weren't a genius," she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not a genius," Jonas replied. "I just cheat a little."

She smirked. "All right. You've got a shot, I guess."

She and Clint angled the Quinjet in. Jonas leaped from the hatch; it wasn't too far. More of a hop than a leap, really, and he landed square on the platform. Black Widow and Hawkeye crashed to the ground level after the Quinjet was shot down.

Meanwhile, Captain America, Black Widow, and Hawkeye rejoined Iron Man, who'd just been hurled through a window by Loki. Thor confronted his brother, falling for his illusions once again, and the skirmish escalated. Hulk arrived too, returning in time to lend his muscle. The six heroes fell into a natural formation, each doing what they did best.

Upon the platform, Jonas crouched with a focused intensity, pulling out a sleek, short-handled tool, like a lightsaber hilt, only smaller. In his other hand, a tricorder scanned the swirling energy around the Tesseract. He reviewed the readings, then adjusted settings on his omni-tool, heavily modified from a sonic screwdriver, with a few... unconventional additions. The tricorder had a special feature, one Jonas had built using Borg reverse-engineering: an adaptive frequency reader that could sync with nearly any shield.

Within seconds, he'd tuned into the exact frequency. He stepped through the barrier.

R2 hovered beside him and, with a mechanical arm, knocked the Tesseract loose. The portal instantly destabilized and collapsed just as one of the giant Leviathan creatures attempted to pass through. The closing portal sliced it in half.

Down below, the battle raged on. Even with the portal shut, the alien forces fought under the command of their mothership, still broadcasting orders. Jonas and R2 scrambled. Suddenly, a distress call came in:

A nuclear missile had been fired at New York.

Jonas didn't hesitate. He reactivated the portal.

Iron Man intercepted the nuke and carried it skyward. Jonas monitored the timing, watching carefully as Stark disappeared into the vortex. The moment he saw Iron Man falling back through, He shut the portal.

The nuke detonated inside the mothership.

On the ground, the remaining alien soldiers dropped, lifeless. Whatever signal had kept them moving was gone.

Jonas didn't even look at the Tesseract. He had no desire to keep it. He already had enough dangerous items aboard the TARDIS. Better to let people deal with their own demons.

The war was over—and it had ended quicker than anyone expected.

Iron Man plummeted, unconscious, through the clouds—only to be caught by the Hulk. They landed hard, Tony stunned. For a few tense seconds, everyone circled around him, unsure if he'd survived.

Then Hulk let out a loud roar, and Tony jolted awake, gasping.

They all exhaled in relief.

"Let's have shawarma," Tony suggested. Of course, all of them realized that things weren't finished. Loki needed to be dealt with. 

Later, as Loki sat defeated and cuffed, Jonas stepped through the rubble and entered the scene. R2 hovered beside him, carrying the Tesseract in its core containment unit. Jonas set it gently on the nearby table.

The man everyone thought might be the most useless turned out to be the one who helped them save the day.

Funny, really—no one had even considered using the scepter to solve the problem. Erik Selvig, meanwhile, was still unconscious.

After the Tesseract was secured and the scepter handed off to S.H.I.E.L.D.—or HYDRA, as they'd later find out—the Avengers regrouped. They stood in the crumbled remnants of Stark Tower, taking stock of their victory.

Tony clapped his hands together. "All right. Who's hungry? I'm thinking… shawarma?"

"Still with the shawarma?" Clint asked, rubbing his temples.

Just as they started debating where to go, a voice echoed from the nearby elevator shaft.

"I believe," the voice said smoothly, "we can do better than that."

Everyone turned. From the open lift doors emerged a striking man dressed in a black and gold uniform. A strange triangular pattern framed an oval object attached to the left side of his chest.

His features were sharp, elegant—blonde hair, piercing red eyes, not the slightest trace of synthetic stiffness. In his left hand was the TARDIS, although to everyone present it looked like an old leather suitcase.

"Handsome," Natasha muttered under her breath.

"Patch?" Jonas blinked in disbelief. "You finished already?"

Patch looked to Jonas and offered a respectful nod. "Affirmative, Captain. I completed my new body and discovered that the TARDIS was lying in the middle of a field. I navigated through acquired transport and located the battlefield by tracking R2's transponder. I hope you don't mind."

"Built his body?" Tony raised an eyebrow, walking a circle around him. "You built that?"

Natasha gave a small appreciative whistle.

Jonas smiled, half proud and half exasperated. "Everyone, this is my friend—my companion—Patch. Android. Engineer. Slight know-it-all. But very helpful. Patch, meet the Avengers."

Patch offered a slight bow. "Greetings, Avengers. My name is Patchwork. You may call me Patch. It is an honor to meet you."

"Wait," Tony said, squinting at Jonas. "Did he just call you Captain?"

"Yeah," Jonas admitted.

"I knew it," Tony said, grinning. "Didn't you just deny being a pirate captain?"

Everyone laughed.

"I'm not a pirate captain," Jonas said with mock indignation. "I'm just a captain. I have a ship. That doesn't make me a pirate."

"Right," Tony said. "And where, Captain Not-a-Pirate, is your ship?"

Jonas gestured toward Patch, who nonchalantly hoisted an old brown suitcase.

"In here," Patch said calmly.

Tony scoffed. "Your spaceship is a suitcase?"

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "And a pretty beat-up one, at that."

Jonas crossed his arms and smirked. "Yeah, yeah—I can feel the sarcasm from here. But before you keep mocking, how about you step inside?"

Patch set the suitcase down, placed his hand on the side, and used the bronze key to unlock it.

"Let's take a stroll," Jonas said. "Patch, open it up. Let's take them to the mall."

"The food court, as predicted," Patch said with a knowing look. "Of course."

"Natasha," Jonas added, "mind giving your friend Fury a call? Ask if he wants in."

She smirked. "This should be fun."

Ten minutes later, Director Nick Fury landed on the roof of Stark Tower, unimpressed and out of patience.

He strode toward the group, who were all standing around an unassuming suitcase.

"Okay," Fury barked. "What exactly is going on here? Someone explain to me why I had to drop everything and fly in just to stand around a piece of luggage."

"Director," Jonas said casually. "We're inviting you to take a tour of my ship."

Fury narrowed his eye. "Your ship?"

Jonas grinned and pointed at the suitcase.

"What are y—"

But before Fury could finish, Patch flipped open the lid.

Everyone stepped back in awe.

Instead of a few socks and a toothbrush, the interior of the suitcase revealed a gleaming, vertigo-inducing expanse of light and structure—an impossible drop into a swirling, alien interior. The bridge was visible below: vast, clean, lined with glowing rings and archways, a command console in the center surrounded by platforms, windows, and corridors stretching into the impossible.

The Avengers stood frozen.

"That…" Tony said slowly, "is not carry-on compliant."

"Bigger on the inside," Steve murmured, stunned.

Jonas smiled. "Welcome aboard."

Patch looked at Fury. "Director, would you care to dine in the Omega Mall Food Court? We have over three hundred multiversal vendors and a sushi belt that wraps around a whole city block."

Fury stared into the suitcase, then at Jonas.

"…you're going to be a nightmare in the paperwork," he muttered.