He ended the call and glanced at Randolph.
"The weapon was fun to wield," James said. "With a long reach and bursting with power."
Randolph exhaled, still watching him. "I just didn't expect it to not break your mind."
"It can't," James said.
He didn't explain why.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elliot Randolph returned to his life as a professor. He liked Earth, and James had no intention of sending him back to Asgard.
Now that they knew Randolph was here on Earth, he couldn't simply be left alone.
And so they offered him to become a S.H.I.E.L.D. consultant.
Another consultant, assigned specifically to Coulson's team when Asgard-related knowledge was needed. He would assist when required or otherwise blend in with normal society.
Randolph accepted because he had no better option. James's knight status carried weight, and Randolph knew exactly what being dragged back to Asgard meant: no matter the verdict, he'd be treated like a deserter. Being put back to stonework, to a life of ridicule.
After the matter had been handled, Coulson couldn't offer downtime.
"We got another mission," he said, sliding a new file to the team.
It was a strange situation by their standards.
A doctor had apparently developed sudden "powers." Anyone hostile to her was being attacked with no clear cause.
Once the mission was approved, the BUS lifted again.
James, however, felt a quiet relief.
He'd been waiting for this one.
The case involved someone caught between two worlds—trapped in a spatial gap. And after what he'd learned, and after what he now carried, James wanted to see if he could pull them back.
It was beyond normal reach, which made it valuable, but it also made it dangerous.
He kept his face calm and kept Skye at arm's length—just enough to stay ambiguous without letting it destabilize him.
They arrived at the target's home to find it surrounded by people. Police were on the scene, but so was a crowd—the angry, the curious, and those waiting for a spectacle.
Hannah Hutchins stood at her front door being questioned by officers.
Coulson and the team stepped through the crowd, flashing their credentials, and walked straight in.
Coulson addressed the lead officer. "Sheriff, is there anything you can do to clear them out?"
"I've been trying, but it's a free country." The sheriff said, defensive.
James dismissed his excuse and stared at him.
"Freedom doesn't mean they can surround someone's home," he said flatly. "Clear them out, or take off the badge."
The sheriff glared, tempted to argue—then swallowed it. Men in black suits didn't show up for normal calls. FBI, CIA, or this so-called S.H.I.E.L.D.—it didn't matter which, sheriffs in the U.S. weren't untouchable.
He waved his people into motion.
James pointed at another officer. "You too. Move. We're taking over."
Coulson watched the police walk away to focus on the crowds. "Well done, James."
"You're too gentle," James replied. "You know more than I do that we have to be stern and keep the locals away."
He turned back toward the house. "Now let's talk to Hannah Hutchins."
Hannah approached them as Coulson introduced himself. "Miss Hutchins, I'm Agent Coulson. We handle unusual incidents like what's happening to you."
Hannah's voice trembled. "Are you going to lock me up?"
She looked unstable—shaken, exhausted, and cornered. James stepped in to give mediation and assurance.
"You don't have to worry," he said. "We're here to help. If you have any abilities, we would need you to understand them and control them. If you don't… then we need to figure out what's causing this. Either way, we keep it from spiraling out of control."
He held her gaze. "You don't want to be trapped in something you don't understand. Right?"
Hannah nodded, swallowing hard.
"Alright then," James said. "Let's go inside. Once the crowd is cleared, we'll run basic tests—nothing invasive. We just need to confirm what we're dealing with."
Outside, the crowd still hadn't fully dispersed. The sheriff was trying to push them back when a man suddenly hurled fruit at Hannah. It smacked the door with a wet bang.
"Get out of here!" the man shouted.
James moved instantly.
He crossed the distance, too fast for anyone to react, seized the man by the collar, and threw him down hard. Then he yanked the man's arm behind his back, pinning him down.
James turned his head toward the sheriff without loosening his grip.
"If you can't clear them, just say so," he said. "Now cuff him. You know the charges."
The crowd surged at the sudden violence.
Police rushed to intercept, but the crowd kept pushing closer.
James drew his pistol to get the crowd's attention.
"We're operating under Government authority," he said, pointing the muzzle to anyone who dares take another step forward. "Disperse immediately. Interfere again, and you'll be detained. Escalate further, and you will be treated as hostile."
Someone shouted from the back, "We're American citizens! This is our right!"
Bang Bang.
James fired two shots close enough to blow the guy's hair and miss everyone.
"Your rights don't include surrounding someone's home," James said. "And they don't include obstructing an operation like this. Do it again, and you'll be arrested. You got more to say?"
The man shut up.
The crowd started backing away for real this time.
James pointed at the sheriff once more. "You're done here. We'll notify your station for failure to cooperate with government personnel. If your chief tries to cover it up, then I hope he's ready for early retirement."
He holstered the pistol and returned to the porch.
Coulson stared at him. "You're quite angry today, something happened?"
"No," James said simply. "No, but I'm just showing you how to deal with uncooperative officers and people who affect the operation, we have regulations. These regulations are not for show, you're too soft."
He looked back to Hannah, and his voice softened again.
"Okay, Miss Hutchins, let's go inside. Sit down, drink some water, and breathe. Once the crowd has been cleared, we'll talk."
Hannah looked stunned by what she'd just seen. So stunned she forgot all about her troubles.
She led them inside and sat in the living room.
James poured her a glass of water from the kitchen for everyone, then sat opposite Hannah waiting for her to be ready.
His eyes moved over the room, the corners, the walls.
He wasn't just looking at her, he was looking for the man trapped in the space between.
James's dominance outside hadn't been accidental. It was a deliberate show of force.
The man trapped in the space between worlds was obsessed with Hannah Hutchins. James had provoked the crowd and escalated hard—to bait a response from the man. If the unseen attacker struck at him, James could get a chance to observe him.
At first, nothing happened.
Once Hannah had fully calmed down, James spoke. "We have a general picture of your situation. Your 'abilities' began after the lab accident, and every time your emotions spike—"
"Yes," Hannah cut in quickly, shaking her head. "But I don't think I'm doing those things."
"I believe you," James said without hesitation.
Hannah stared at him, surprised.
James gave her a small, reassuring smile.
Across from them, Coulson looked puzzled. James's tone to her was warm—too warm. It didn't fit his usual demeanor, it also didn't fit his situation with Skye. Coulson couldn't see the angle he was taking yet.
James continued. "The particle accelerator explosion killed a technician. Making everyone in town turn hostile. But accidents like that don't create superpowers—especially not the kind that can throw objects remotely."
Hannah's breathing hitched again. "I don't have powers. But every time someone tries to hurt me, something happens. It's— it's a demon…"
Her fear spiked.
James looked around the room immediately—from the corners, the ceiling lines, the reflective surfaces—waiting for a tell.
Still nothing.
He stood up, walked over and sat beside Hannah instead. He slid an arm around her shoulders, showing an act of flirtation and comfort as he spoke softly in her ears, like he was trying to seduce her in her time of weakness.
"You don't need to be afraid. There are no demons here, and even if something is here, it's not in control—you're in control."
He tilted his head as he looked at his team and the room.
"Look around you. Nothing's happened since we arrived."
The vase on the cabinet beside him suddenly launched into the air.
Coulson saw it clearly—but it was already too late to warn anyone.
James didn't even look back.
His hand reached behind him and caught the vase cleanly, as if it had been placed into his palm.
He brought it in front of him without breaking his act..
'Cortana,' he inquired, 'got anything?'
[I did not detect the attacker. However—the Space Stone sensed a localized spatial anomaly.]
James rose and placed the vase on the coffee table.
Hannah stared, stunned, trying to understand how he'd caught it so easily—why he wasn't even startled.
James didn't answer her confusion. He lifted his hand and summoned the Space Stone.
A blue gem appeared before them, bright and mesmerizing.
A beam snapped out instantly, not striking a person, but the air itself—like it was targeting a seam.
Bang.
A ripple in space, then a figure dropped out of nothing and hit the floor hard.
"Tobias?" Hannah gasped.
James stepped closer, his eyes locked on the man. "He's trapped between two worlds. The particle accelerator explosion caused it." Then he looked at Phil Coulson.
"Can you save him?" Hannah had always blamed the accident on herself, so she hoped she could save him.
James frowned, thinking—while Cortana ran rapid checks.
[No stable reintegration pathway detected. The anomaly is not a simple displacement, but a dimensional shear. Penetration would require velocity beyond current capability.]
James shook his head. "No. Not with what we have."
Hannah felt helpless by the news.
James didn't soften the truth. "What I have can open paths within the same dimension. But it can't punch through into a parallel world like this—not cleanly."
They waited in silence for Tobias to wake up.
He stirred within half an hour.
When he opened his eyes and saw the room full of people watching him, he didn't lash out or attack anyone.
He looked straight at Hannah, This was the story of a crazy admirer. The married man fell in love with another woman. To get Hannah's attention, Tobias had tampered with the particle accelerator.
The failure killed three people on the spot. The blast pinned him in a spatial crack, leaving him half-present and half-gone—it was eating what time he had left.
He described the other side as hell.
James listened without comment, but an idea of the situation sat in his mind: 'A parallel Earth or a different world bleeding into this one.'
As time passed, Tobias's voice weakened.
Then, like a candle finally burning out, he vanished.
Hannah sat there, shaking. For the first time in days, the fear in the room began to drain.
She still couldn't stay here. The town had already chosen to want her gone.
S.H.I.E.L.D. would relocate her, give her a new identity, a new start somewhere nobody knows her.
On the return flight, Coulson watched James for a long moment, then asked, "You knew?"
"No," James said. "I suspected."
Coulson frowned. "Based on what?"
James leaned back as he explained. "Your file said the incidents happen whenever Hannah is put in danger. If she was responsible, the pattern would be more obvious that she was doing it. So in conclusion she wasn't controlling anything. She was just reacting to it."
Coulson still looked unconvinced. "That logic barely has a basis."
"It's not logic," James said. "It's intuition. If she could do those things on a whim, she'd be calm about the whole thing, or at least show signs of her distress being just an act. But she wasn't. When we met her, she looked terrified, she was genuinely confused and afraid of everything that was happening."
Coulson nodded at that. "So you cleared the civilians because you wanted to prevent any collateral… and you treated her with intimacy to bait the unseen attacker."
James nodded. "If an invisible target shows possessiveness, what does it do to someone who gets close to the one they claim? I wanted it to strike at me."
Coulson's mouth twitched—half in amusement and half respect. "That's quite a good plan. I learned something today. You might be right that I'm too soft sometimes."
The mission was done.
The BUS diverted to a maintenance base for downtime. Two missions back-to-back had burned them out.
Now would be a good time to take a few days of vacation.