2025 Evil Author Day

Chapter 1

May 4, 2012

“Stark, do you hear me?  You have a missile headed straight for the city.”

Even with the beating she’s getting from freaking aliens of all things (and the fact that this is now a fact of life still blows her mind) (her inner child is squealing with delight deep deep down, although she could’ve done without an invasion to learn about it), Toni Stark still has time to despair over the fact that humanity’s go-to answer is fear in the face of the unknown.  Her only consolation is that Fury sounds just as pissed off as she feels right now, so the super spy isn’t responsible for this particular failing of humanity. “How long?” she demands despite the blows coming from all directions, mind on overdrive trying to figure a way out of this mess with the least amount of loss of life (because they’ve already lost enough today as it is) (fucking Coulson and his stupid bloody trading cards) while simultaneously blasting away the aliens circled around her.

“Three minutes, max.  The payload will wipe out Midtown.”

She barely refrains from snarling, because of course it will.  Howard Stark hadn’t done anything by halves and she’d carried on his tradition of making big things that go boom for years like a good little girl (fuck you, Obie). “JARVIS, put everything we got into the thrusters.”

“I just did.”

Repulsers humming, she shoots into the sky and towards the water where the stupid freaking missile is coming from.  She pushes the suit as fast as she can, even with her critically low power levels, because no way in hell is she going to allow her city to be blown to smithereens.  She’s got plans for it, damn it.

There’s a crackle of static over her coms, then Romanoff’s voice comes through with news that would’ve been stupendous not even five minutes ago before some asshole took matters into their own hands. “I can close it.  Can anybody copy?  I can shut the portal down.”

“Do it!” Rogers (Captain fucking America, the man her father missed most of her childhood trying desperately to find) orders from wherever the hell he is on the ground.

Blessedly, she’s got eyes on her not-so-fun prize. “No, wait.”

“Stark, these things are still coming,” Rogers protests.

“I’ve got a nuke coming in.  It’s going to blow in less than a minute.” Repulsers firing, she arcs over the Brooklyn Bridge and chases after said nuke as it continues its straight shot into the city, settling herself under its belly despite the cold sweat that breaks out all over her body as her suit knocks against the outer casing.  She lets her eyes dart towards the portal hanging in the sky over her tower ( fuck you, Loki ). “And I know just where to put it.”

There’s a solemnness in Rogers' voice as he says, “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip.”

She lets out a breathy sigh, acknowledging what he’s saying but unable to bring herself to respond. “Save the rest for the turn, J,” she instructs instead.

“Ma’am, shall I try Miss Potts?”

Pepper’s picture pops up on her HUD screen, and an ache blooms to life deep in Toni’s chest at the sight.  Something had just clicked between the two of them the instant they set eyes on each other all those years ago when Pepper had stormed into her office about a number being off on one of the spreadsheets that could cost Stark Industries millions down the line (a number Toni had deliberately added to see which of the new hires had the balls to tell Toni fucking Stark that she was wrong) (and Virginia Potts had fucking delivered).  Toni loves her with all the passion of a thousand suns, but she can’t call her.  Not when Toni’s about to do something ridiculously stupid and dangerous and very much life-threatening (most people want the ability to say goodbye to their loved ones when it seems like the end, but Toni’s not most people) (and something tells her that to try and do that for the two of them will break them wide open in a way they won’t be able to come back from).

“Nah, leave her be.” If she survives this (which something in her doubts that she will because she’s not tested the suits for fucking space) (hadn’t thought she’d needed to reach that far just yet) she’ll endure all the yelling Pepper needs to do to vent.  The thrusters in her chest plate engage, pushing both her and the nuke up towards the sky.  They just barely manage to scrap by her tower without slamming into it (there’s going to be a chip in the paint at the top that will bug her until she gets it fixed), and then they’re climbing and climbing and—

She flies through the portal.

(Space spreads out before her.)

(It’s awe-inspiring and terrifying at the same time.)

The suit reaches the limits of its capabilities, her HUD screens flickering momentarily before petering out into blank nothingness as she loses all forward momentum and her tedious connection back to Earth.

(The nuke flies on without her, thank God.)

(The big ass alien ship hanging in a sky full of stars making constellations she doesn’t know doesn’t stand a fucking chance.)

Every gasping breath is more difficult than the previous, black spots dancing in her vision at the lack of incoming oxygen.

(But Earth is safe, Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy are safe.)

(She’s falling.)

As the big ass alien ship implodes in on itself in a fiery ball of death, she’s pleased to see all those big freaking whale-like things just shut down and knows with utter certainty that the same thing’s happening back on Earth

(Fire chases her, licks at the edge of her senses like a long-lost friend.)

(She’s falling.)

The lack of oxygen finally gets to her, and her eyes refuse to open.

(If the last glimpse of life she gets is this unknown stretch of space, she’ll take it.)

(She’s falling.)

She’s not scared.

(Death’s something she’s flirted with all her life, however unintentional.)

(She’s falling.)

She’s weightless as she plummets.

(She wonders if there’s even a portal left for her to fall through.)

(She’s falling.)

She’s falling and—

(She’s falling and—)

(She’s falling and—)

Oblivion stares her down.

(She stares right the fuck back because she’s Toni fucking Stark—)

(Evelyn bloody Potter)

(—and a little thing like oblivion doesn’t scare her one bit.)

(Death is an old friend, after all, even now.)

She’s still—

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“You’re planning something.”

Evelyn sighs, setting down her book so she can give her friend her full attention. “And whatever gave you that idea?” she asks a touch dryly, even though said statement is actually correct.

Ginny huffs, throwing herself into a chair opposite Evelyn. “Don’t act like that.  I watched your back for years, General.  I know your tells by now.  So spill, or I’ll point Luna your way.”

Evelyn barely manages to suppress a flinch at the sound of her former title.  However, the damn war with Riddle had dragged out for far too long and too many people looked to her for guidance so she’d ended up with the bloody title of General between one breath and the next.  It still haunts her even now.  The people had revered General Potter while she fought the good fight that none of them wanted to fight, but now they shy away from her.  Over ten years of her life she’s sacrificed for these people and nearly five years after the war’s conclusion only those of her inner circle are ever really comfortable with being around her.

She snorts instead. “I’m not sure England would survive that.” None of them can claim to have come out of the war unscathed, physically or mentally, but Luna has a way of unnerving even the best of them at times.

That earns her a bark of laughter from her friend, fleeting and hoarded away because there’s precious little to laugh over nowadays. “And you know she’d drag the rest of us in on whatever madness she cooks up.”

“All of England trembles at the mere idea.”

They giggle like school girls for a bit before Ginny abruptly sobers up. “You’re planning something, Eve,” she repeats firmly.  The ‘tell me or so help me’ is very much implied in her tone.

“I’m tired, Gin,” Evelyn murmurs, propping an elbow up on the table and resting her chin on the palm of her hand while offering her friend a sad smile. “I’m so bloody tired it’s not even funny.  By now I’ve very much resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never have the life that I wanted purely because no one else was willing to stand up against Riddle until I did.” She ducks her head, unwilling to allow her friend to see the full breadth of pain this causes her. “It’s not much of a life to live, my friend.”

“Eve.” Her name is a broken sound on Ginny’s lips.

“It’s a fact of life that I must live with if I’m to have any sort of peace for myself.  No amount of wishing on my part will change it.”

Ginny reaches a hand across the table that separates them to grab ahold of Evelyn’s other hand. “You know we’d do everything in our power to give that to you, right?” she whispers fiercely.

Evelyn squeezes Ginny’s hand hard. “I know,” she manages to choke out, because she’s well aware of the lengths her friends would go to for her.  It’s half the reason they finally managed to bring Riddle and his followers down. “I know and I would never ask that of you.”  Their reputations are already tremulous because of their continued association with her, but fuck if she’s able to get the seven of them to leave her well enough alone.  If Evelyn had had it her way, she’d have retreated from Magical Britain entirely in whatever way she could.  But her friends were a tether that kept her around through the worst of it, them and her precious godson.

Merlin, it hurts to think about him right now.  He's finishing up his third year at Hogwarts, absolutely thriving in Hufflepuff.  Tonks would be so proud and it’s absolutely gutting that she can’t be here to see it.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” Ginny finally says, more statement than question despite the way she phrases it.

Evelyn offers her a wry, yet slightly mischievous smile. “So that when they inevitably stick you on the stand after I’ve had my fun and shove Veritaserum down your throat, you can truly say that you asked and I refused to tell you because I knew they’d do that.”

Ginny huffs again. “We can take care of ourselves, Eve.”

Now her smile turns sad. “Just because you can doesn’t mean I’m going to stop doing what I can for you.”  Even when none of them like it.  They’re family now, and she’d do just about anything for her family.

The slight thumping of a box startles Evelyn out of the work zone she’s drifted into.  She looks up from her ink-stained fingers to see Luna standing opposite her across the table.  On the table in front of Luna is a black box.

“Did I forget something?” Evelyn asks warily, because seldom is Luna Lovegood ever without a smile.

“My Lady General,” Luna says solemnly, immediately raising Evelyn’s hackles. “I do not ask to know what path it is you feel you must walk alone.  Only know that I am behind you always come what may.” She gently pushes the box across the table, stopping just short of Evelyn’s pile of parchment. “Magic compelled me to bring this gift to you.  I hope it aids you in the coming days.” Luna drops a little curtsy, something none of them ever really do beyond social functions, and rarely then as well, leaving a shellshocked Evelyn staring after her as she exits Grimmauld’s library.

It’s only when Evelyn feels the wards announce that Luna’s gone that she turns her eyes back to the black box left behind.  With shaking hands, she pushes aside the mess of parchment and pulls the box slowly towards herself.  The instant her fingers brush over it, a hum of rightness ripples through her magic.  Swallowing around the rising lump in her throat, Evelyn carefully lifts off the lid.

“Oh Luna,” she breathes out at the sight of the lovely uncut amethyst crystal nestled inside.

And it’s exactly what she needs for the ritual she’s seriously considering constructing.

The fact that Luna felt compelled to bring this probably speaks to just how desperate Evelyn truly feels about getting out of her current situation.  She puts on a brave front for her friends (her family) when they come over, but she’s done.  Just flat out done.

She can’t move away to another country and settle into their magical community there, because too many people would raise absolute hell over the idea of her living anywhere other than Britain.

And unfortunately, hiding away in the Muggle world won’t do her a lick of good either, even if her friends do everything in their power to help her vanish.

Hence the ritual she’s been researching for the past three months.

A petition to Lady Hekate for peace in whatever way she’s willing to grant it.

Gently, carefully, Evelyn takes the amethyst crystal out of the box and cradles it in the palms of her hands.  It’s brimming with Luna’s magic, and Evelyn feels tears start to roll down her cheeks at the overwhelming feeling of love that washes over her.

She’s really going to miss her friends.

“Ginny says you’re planning something.”

Evelyn wants to bang her head on the table.  She should’ve known that Ginny would talk to someone.  She’s also beginning to regret granting her friends full access to her house because they’re starting to all drop in unannounced and that’s not currently helpful. “And did she happen to mention that I told her that I wasn’t going to tell anyone what it is that I’m planning?”

“We can take care of ourselves, Eve!” her very first friend protests, waving her hands through the air as she paces furiously back and forth. “And I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re trying to do!”

“You know, Gin threatened me with Luna, not you,” she says blandly.

“Luna told her to leave it alone,” Hermione hisses, hair puffing up to match her building temper. “Luna!”

“And did it occur to you to consider the significance of that, Mi?” Evelyn asks softly. “That if perhaps our friend who is the most in touch with her magic and the magic of the world says to leave something well enough alone, that maybe you ought to listen to her?”

Hermione fixes her with a look of righteous indignation, but the dampness of her eyes betrays her inner turmoil. “I refuse to believe that there is nothing I can do.  I’m the brightest witch of our age, there must be something I can do to fix this!”

Evelyn just sighs. “There’s no fixing this, Mi.  You’ve been trying for nearly five years now and nothing’s changed.  It’s not your fault the people of Magical Britain are such idiots.”

“So what, you’re just going to give up?” she demands, sounding affronted by the very idea.

“There’s nothing we can do, Mi,” Evelyn bites out, trying very hard not to unleash her building temper on her well-meaning friend. “There’s no magic spell that will make life any better for me.  I refuse to allow myself to be trapped in this house so the idiots of this country can be happy their bloody savior is contained .” She huffs out an aggravated breath. “And we all know they’d only drag me back for all that they despise me on the best of days if I tried to leave.”

“This isn’t like you, Eve!” Hermione insists. “Where’s my General who managed to out-stubborn all the pureblood Lords into finally making a stand?  Where’s my General who faced down numerous Death Eaters without flinching?  Where’s my General who ended the war?”

“I’m tired, Hermione,” Evelyn snaps, annoyed when her friend reels back at her harsh tone because she’s the one who won’t stop pushing now (even if she’s pushing for infinitely better reasons than most people). “I’m bloody tired of having to watch my back nearly as much in peacetime as I did during the war.”

“Eve,” Hermione whispers, sounding just as broken saying her name as Ginny had four days ago (her stupid, brilliant Gryffindor friends always charging forward, not always pausing to think of the ramifications of their actions).

Evelyn just slumps in her seat, bracing her elbows on the table and then cradling her face in her hands with her eyes squeezed shut. “It’s the truth, Hermione.  It’s the bloody, undeniable truth, and no amount of wishing on our parts is going to change that.”

She hears Hermione’s shaky exhale before her friend marches herself out of Evelyn’s house without another word.  It kills her, but she can’t keep pretending like she has been.  It’s been eating away at something inside of her, so she’s finally decided to do something about it before she loses another piece of herself to the war.  She just hopes that she doesn’t lose her friends as well before all’s said and done.

When the wards alert her to the fact that she has two more unexpected guests, Evelyn very nearly screams.  Granted, Susan and Hannah are much more level-headed than Ginny and Hermione, but they can out stubborn just about all of them (except Luna, they’ve all just decided to never ever try that with Luna).  However fed up she is, though, she won’t just throw them out of her house without attempting to be civil first.  So she waits, listening to the whisper of footsteps coming up the stairs that her friends are consciously making themselves do because the war trained certain things out of them and it trained certain things into them (silence was one of the first things trained into them by necessity).

Susan’s the first to walk through the library’s door, and she’s holding a black box that’s identical to the one Luna brought over three days ago.  She places it on the table within arm’s reach for Evelyn with a murmured, “My Lady General,” followed by a brief dip of a curtsey.

Evelyn exhales shakily, making no move to touch the box just yet. “Did your magic compel you to bring this to me?”

“She was so very compelled,” Hannah announces cheerily, having followed Susan in.  Her fellow Hufflepuff shoots her a disgruntled look, but it does seem like there’s less tension in Susan’s shoulders now. “We had to go through all of House Bones’ vaults and most of House Abbott’s vaults before she was satisfied.”

When Evelyn does brush her fingers over this new box, her magic hums the same feeling of rightness that she experienced with the one from Luna. “Are you going to ask me what I’m doing?” she asks of the two, dreading the answer she’s certain she’ll get.

“No, Eve, we’re not,” Susan states firmly. “And it’s not just because I can feel it deep within my magic, because Hermione would feel the exact same thing if she just calmed down and listened to what her magic’s telling her like Hannah did when I asked for her help.”

“You aren’t happy, Eve,” Hannah says softly. “You haven’t been happy for a while now, and if whatever it is that you’re planning will give you happiness again, then we won’t stand in your way.”

Evelyn abruptly finds herself furiously blinking away tears, having honestly thought she’d have to go through another hard round of telling her friends no . “Even if it takes me away from you?”

“No Eve, not even then,” Susan says oh so gently. “I can’t say that I’m happy or pleased with the idea of you being where I can’t reach, but I won’t stop you.”

“We’ll work on Ginny and Hermione,” Hannah tells her, swooping down to press a kiss to Evelyn’s cheek. “Just be happy, Eve, that’s all I ask.”

The two of them exit as quietly as they came in, leaving Evelyn poleaxed and staring at the box Susan left behind through watery eyes.  She scrubs away what tears she can while also pulling said box closer to her.  Flat out ignoring the way her fingers tremble as she lifts the lid up, her breath catches in the back of her throat at the sight of the gem inside.

An absolutely gorgeous piece of polished tiger’s eye, unlike the uncut piece of amethyst from Luna.  Just brushing her fingertips over the top of it causes a whole new wave of tears to surface because it’s just as full of love and devotion as Luna’s is.  So she pushes the box away and once again cradles her head in her hands to just cry.

She wonders once again what she ever did to deserve friends like these.

She’s expecting these last two visitors.

That, of course, doesn’t mean she’s not anxious.

The Greengrass sisters are the epitome of their respective Hogwarts Houses, and the other side quickly learned to fear the wrath of the Slytherin and Ravenclaw duo.

Evelyn’s desperately hoping that this visit will go more like the one with her Hufflepuff friends rather than her Gryffindor friends (she doesn’t bother hoping the visit goes like Luna’s visit, Luna’s visits are never like anyone else’s for all that this most recent one was relatively benign).  But just because she is fairly certain that the two of them will be bringing the last two gems she needs for her ritual and thus most likely able to feel via their magic the certainty of what Evelyn wants to do, that doesn’t mean they’ll accept it with any kind of grace.

Astoria drops her box onto the table in front of Evelyn with a soft, “My Lady General,” and a curtsy before reaching out and lightly touching Evelyn’s cheek. “How are you?” she asks, ever the Healer.  It’s generally the first thing she asks any of them after not having seen them for a stretch of time.  Moreso because she’s one of the few Healers any of them will allow to work with them.

“Been better,” she murmurs, though today is more of a good day than a bad one ache wise. “Been worse too.”

“Such a helpful answer,” Astoria mutters, making way for her sister who is right behind her.  Though Evelyn does feel Astoria’s magic wash over her as she goes, her usual passive scan to make sure Evelyn isn’t lying (and they all have lied before, so much during the war, that Evelyn can’t begrudge her this particular quirk).  The fact that she doesn’t immediately say anything means that she’s satisfied with the truth of Evelyn’s answer.

Daphne is very much a picturesque Pureblood Lady, demure in her baring as she gently sets her box on the table next to Astoria’s before dropping into a deep curtsy traditionally used when one is meeting someone of higher authority than them with a reverent, “My Lady General.” Despite no longer holding quite so rigidly to Pureblood customs, Daphne is the one of their little group who holds the most comfort in performing said customs still (Astoria used to be the same way, but becoming a Healer quickly rid her of that level of politeness).

Evelyn refrains from touching either box, not wanting to break down and cry just yet. “Opinions?” she asks quietly.

“That you should brace yourself for some rather apologetic Gryffindors descending on you within the next few days,” Daphne says dryly. “I’m quite happy to have not been on the receiving end of Hannah’s lengthy guilt trip this time.  She granted no quarter to either of them.”

“We none of us suffer fools gladly,” Astoria points out, her tone that dangerous shade of bland a Healer generally gets when they think their patient is being a ridiculous idiot. “Especially not among our group.”

Evelyn snorts indelicately, because she is well aware of that particular fact.  It’s part of the reason why their reputations are so tremulous.  None of them are shy about expressing their opinions about how Evelyn is treated whenever someone stupidly questions their loyalty.  And yet, they still get questioned five years post-war despite the blow up that inevitably happens (granted, the collective lack of short-term memory of the country explains many things about the state of Magical Britain).  So it doesn’t really surprise her that Hannah actually did force both Ginny and Hermione to sit down and listen to her until they understood whatever it was she wanted to tell them.  However, that doesn’t answer her original question, so she fixes the both of them with an unimpressed look.

Daphne raises an unimpressed eyebrow right back at her. “Do you want us to yell about how we don’t want you to go and to stop whatever it is that you’re preparing for?”

Evelyn huffs. “Not really, no.”

“Then stop looking like you expect it,” she gripes. “I assure you that we both thought long and hard about what we would possibly say before coming over, and that was well before Hannah took Ginny and Hermione to task over their foolish behavior.”

“Hannah and I talk, you know,” Astoria adds. “Between the two of us, we generally do a good job of keeping the eight of us healthy and happy.  But we could tell that you were slipping away from us, and nothing we did really seemed to truly draw you fully back.  So for us, it wasn’t all that much of a surprise as it might’ve been for the others.”

Evelyn feels her throat close up, because Astoria is telling the truth. She has been pulling away.  Despite knowing the futility of it, she’d half hoped that none of them had noticed (her friends are too well trained at this point, she doesn’t really know why she’d hoped for something that would never happen). “I’m sorry,” she chokes out for a lack of anything else to say.

“Don’t you ever apologize for this,” Astoria says sharply. “No matter what comes of whatever it is that you’re planning, don’t ever apologize about it to any of us ever again.  Hannah is right, despite me wishing otherwise.  You haven’t been truly happy in a while, and we haven’t been letting ourselves see it.  That is on us, not you.  So just go find your happiness wherever your magic leads you to, and we’ll deal with the rest.  That’s what we’re here for, so you don’t have to worry about things like that anymore.”

“We will be fine come what may,” Daphne adds firmly, “so for once in your life don’t worry about us.”

This makes her crack a weary smile. “Ask for the impossible, why don’t you?”

That earns her a rare cheeky grin from her friend. “We rather excel at the impossible, though, so I have faith that you’ll eventually succeed.” She leans down and presses an equally rare kiss to Evelyn’s forehead before tenderly brushing her hair behind an ear. “I know that the war taught you to analyze practically every situation you find yourself in, but in this I would ask you to leave your Slytherin tendencies behind and embrace your Gryffindor heart.  Trust me when I say that it won’t lead you astray, no matter what you might think.”

These words, surprisingly, rattle her far more than touching the two stones already brought to her ever did.  It breaks something wide open deep in Evelyn’s chest, and she finds that all she can do in the wake of this is stare at Daphne and Astoria with wide eyes as tears roll silently down her cheeks.  The two just give her soft, alarmingly understanding smiles before they leave without saying anything else.  She stares after them for far longer than she cares to admit, but she doesn’t want to deal with the stones she knows they’ve left because she knows they’ll just make her cry even harder, and despite not having been in her Aunt Petunia’s tender care for fifteen years now, the thought of crying still seems unsafe to her.  But there’s really only so long she can effectively ignore the two innocent looking boxes sitting on her table, not with the subtle yet gentle siren call they have.  So she sternly tells herself to just get it over with, and reaches for the both of them.

They do indeed make her start crying harder, and she’s forced to scrub viciously at the produced tears to have a chance at seeing what her friends brought for her.

In Astoria’s box is a beautifully polished piece of moonstone that holds all the care and devotion the witch offers to every single one of her collective friends.

Daphne’s box has an uncut piece of red garnet that reflects the wildness of said witch’s soul that she so very rarely lets the rest of the world see, fierce in her loyalty to any she calls her own.

Both are absolutely perfect and exactly what Evelyn needs to complete her ritual and almost make her hate herself for wanting to leave them all behind.  But Astoria was right when she said that Evelyn has been becoming untethered.  Moreso in the last year as the reality of her situation had truly started pressing down on her.  It’s been a gradual thing, but what once could meagerly satisfy her no longer works.  Hence why she’s turned to this ritual.

Now all she needs is a date to perform it, and she already has an idea.  Mostly as one last middle finger to Magical Britain, and she’s too much her father’s daughter to pass up such an opportunity.

“Is it gonna make you happy?  Whatever it is you want to do?”

Evelyn turns her gaze away from the stars overhead and looks to her precious godson, thankful to Minerva for allowing her this visit midterm.  Then again, her former Head of House has always had a soft spot for her, so it’s not really surprising. “What makes you ask that?” she inquires.

Teddy huffs. “I’m not stupid, you know.  I might only be turning fourteen in a few days, but I’m not stupid.  I’m gonna be an Auror like Mum was, so I gotta be able to read people.” He fixes her with such a stern look that is an aching blend of Tonks and Remus and even Sirius (though Teddy had never met the man) that it’s like a punch to the gut. “You’re not happy, Auntie.  The others have tried their best to fix that, but I can see that it hasn’t helped.  Something changed after Christmas break, because now you’re trying to say goodbye without actually saying goodbye but you’re settled.”

Evelyn inhales sharply, because she hadn’t been aware that Teddy was that observant. “Teddy, I don’t — ”

“I’m not upset,” he immediately interjects before cringing. “Well, I’m upset that whatever it is you have planned is necessary, because you shouldn’t want to leave your home, but I’m not upset that it means leaving us.  Not if it gets you away from here permanently and happy again.”

Evelyn chokes out a watery laugh, wrapping her arms around Teddy’s shoulders. “You are far too smart for my own good.”

He in turn tries valiantly to burrow his way into her side. “And don’t think you’re failing Mum and Dad by leaving me, either,” he adds, voice muffled, because of course this kid knows about those dark thoughts. “I think that if Mum were still alive that she’d be right there with Auntie Hannah pushing you to go.”

“She would be.”

Merlin she would be.  Nymphadora Tonks was never one to allow society to constrain her.  The fact that she boldly and proudly married a werewolf speaks to that particular fact.  She made light shine through wherever she went, and Britain has been a darker place ever since her death.  That she and Remus went down protecting children, including their own, is one of the few consolations Evelyn takes about their passing.  The two went the way they would’ve wanted if not by old age.

“So just be happy,” he mumbles. “I can take care of myself, and even if I can't, I’ve got so many Aunties that’ll be bossing me around that I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Evelyn snorts out a chuckle. “That you do, that you do.” They sit in silence, staring up at the stars out of the Astronomy Tower still wrapped up in each other’s arms.  Evelyn eventually leans down and presses a fierce kiss to Teddy’s forehead. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispers, tightening her grip around his shoulders when he starts to protest. “I really don’t.  You are a gift beyond all measure of imagination, and here I am about to do everything in my power to leave your life.”

“You’re leaving me all of your vaults, aren’t you?” he grumbles, because he’s always known that.  Her will has been set up for years that everything she owns will go to her godson in the event that something happens to her, with Daphne to sit as Regent Black and Susan to sit as Regent Potter until he comes of age should it be necessary.  She expects that there will be an uproar amongst the Wizengamot, but she doesn’t care.  Her friends have already assured her that Teddy won’t be subjected to what she went through as a child.

“Money’s not the same as an actual person, and you know that,” she scolds while also smoothing a hand over his forehead. “You should be the reason I want to stay, not the one urging me to go.”

He peers up at her with a cheeky grin that’s all Remus. “Well, Mum might’ve been a Hufflepuff, but Dad was a Marauder, you know.  I’ve got a lot of mischief to live up to here, Auntie Eve, and being contrary is one form of mischief.”

She snorts again. “Don’t let Headmistress McGonagall hear you say that, you’ll give her absolute fits.”

Teddy laughs. “I give her fits when I don’t do anything!”

She presses another kiss to his forehead, happy that Teddy doesn’t push her away. “My dad and Sirius would be overjoyed to hear you say that.  The next generation of Marauders is already at work.”

The evening after the ball the Ministry throws for the five year anniversary of the war being over (because this is her big middle finger to the Wizarding World, depriving them of their bleeding Savior, their precious Woman-Who-Conquered), Evelyn finally has everything ready to perform her ritual.  She’s saturated the stones gifted to her with her own magic and paired them with the artifacts that she’ll be using to power said ritual.  Now she stands in the middle of her circle, magically cleansed and poised to begin.  There’s no longer any room for her to have hesitation.

“Guardian of the North, I invoke thee, let earth guide me.” Her magic rushes to the tiger’s eye gem gifted to her by Susan that sits next to the Resurrection Stone, and a smell akin to walking through Neville’s greenhouse fills the air (she ignores the ache that blooms to life in her chest at the thought of her lost friend).  Only her closest remaining friends know about it or her title as Master of Death.  Regardless, she figures she can’t get much more powerful anchor points for this ritual than the Deathly Hallows.

“Guardian of the West, I invoke thee, let water nourish me.” The moonstone from Astoria shines with an ethereal glow from the amount of magic swirling within it, and the beams reflect off the sword of Gryffindor that it’s paired with (the only artifact she has easy access to that can match the Deathly Hallows for power and prestige).  Beads of water hang suspended in the air, and if she wanted to, Evelyn could reach out and touch them.

“Guardian of the South, I invoke thee, let fire shelter me.” Heat sears through her as the red garnet from Daphne practically vibrates next to the Elder Wand.  It doesn’t really surprise her, given how volatile the Elder Wand can be.

“Guardian of the East, I invoke thee, let air teach me.” A cool breeze dances across her skin as her magic settles into the amethyst from Luna nestled on top of the Cloak of Invisibility.  It pleases her the way the ritual worked out that such an old friend of hers gets to close out the circle.

She feels the circle settle, feels it hold steady despite the overwhelming power held within it.  Not that she doubted herself and her abilities (Hermione drilled this into her head too much for her to have any room left for doubt), but it’s still good to feel. “Mother Magic, your humble daughter stands before you.  You have seen my trials and my triumphs.  You have granted me victory, wisdom, and luck.  You have given me your Gift, and I have tried to honor it with all that I am.  I have stood in service to you for twenty long years.  I have met the Fate you set before me but now I am tired , Mother.” She exhales shakily. “This humble daughter of yours begs you to grant her peace.  Peace from this oppression that your people force upon her.  Peace from this constant fear that shadows her every step.  Peace from this ache that grows inside her with every passing day.” She tips her head back and a lone tear starts to roll down her cheek before the lingering heat of the magically conjured fire whisks it away. “I offer up all that I am for this plea and swear that I will abide by whatever measure of peace you grant me.  As I say, so mote it be.”

There’s a moment of hushed silence where time seems to stand still.

Then the magic around her seems to heave and her last thought before everything goes dark is that she could swear she could hear Fawkes calling out, but that’d be impossible as no one had seen the phoenix in years.

“Child, know that Hekate weeps for the fact that she cannot immediately grant you the peace you so richly deserve.  However, the mere fact that you took up my Hallows with no intent to use them endeared them to you and has marked you as one of mine.”

Evelyn blinks back tears, because she refuses to get overly emotional in front of bloody Death .  And she’s also adamantly ignoring the fact that her ritual brought her to Death of all beings. “Then what am I supposed to do now?”

The blacked robed figure in front of her begins to pace. “I can try to remove my mark from you, but it will take time.  Time that would see you stuck here in this in-between with no one but myself.” Evelyn fights to keep from shuddering, because the very idea is off-putting.  That’s quite honestly the farthest thing from peace she can imagine. “Or, I could send you off to complete a task while I work.”

Evelyn frowns. “Send me off?”

There’s an air of judgment as Death faces her.  She viciously clamps down on the instinctive reaction she wants to have at the lack of anything visible under the raised hood. “I am Death,” is stated like it’s supposed to mean something. “No matter what universe you are in, I am always present.  There is no other.  I simply have Avatars suited to whichever realm it is.  In yours, you unknowingly became my Avatar when you reunited the Hallows in part because you were of the proper bloodline and also because you didn’t actually want to use them.  My Avatars are never supposed to use their gifts for themselves.”

She gives herself a moment to let this new information settle briefly. “So you’re saying you can send me to another universe?”

“Yes, there’s one in particular I’ve a mind to send you to, for a variety of reasons.  Chief among them the one who was supposed to be my Avatar fell into battle madness millennia ago and has made no attempt to fix that.”

“Millennia?”

“Yes, the people they hail from were once considered gods on your world.”

Evelyn stares at Death, very aware that her face is displaying all the judgment she’s currently feeling. “You want me to replace a so-called god or goddess of Death?”

An arm is waved through the air. “You would still be considered mortal.  I would simply strip my former Avatar of their authority and transfer it over to you.”

Evelyn scrubs a hand over her face and desperately wishes that Hermione was with her.  She always seems to know what questions to ask to get the best answers out of someone. “Wouldn’t that make me doubly marked by you?”

“No, and in fact, that might be the ticket to getting you to Hekate.  If you willingly take up this mantle, I will be better prepared to remove it upon your death so long as you dutifully attend to your duties.”

She can feel a scream building up in her chest. “And what would these duties entail?  I’ve killed enough for one lifetime, thanks.”

“I would never order you to end a life, that is not what being my Avatar is for.  You may end up taking lives, but that is the nature of the world and the role you must play.  As for your duties, you would discover them as they become necessary.” Somehow she becomes aware that she’s being pinned with a Look. “Know this, Evelyn Rosalie Potter.  You would suffer much the same hardships as you have already endured, but you would be better prepared to stand before the masses that would demand more of you than you would ever willingly give.  Knowing your luck, you may even be able to carve out a measure of peace if you truly put your back into it.”

A shuddering sigh is all Evelyn allows herself to consider.  In all honesty, it’s not much to think about.  She knows herself too well.  She wouldn’t last long having to stay in this in-between place with Death before going mad. “Your word that you’ll do everything in your power to allow me to go to Hekate if I agree?”

The hooded void where a head should be inclines to her. “My word.”

A warm hum fills her body as she feels Death’s word bound. “Then send me on to whatever universe it is you’re thinking of and I’ll do my part.”

Bony fingers touch her cheek and she nearly flinches away. “You do your Lady proud, Evelyn Rosalie Potter.  Know that though her touch is not the same, Hekate will still be there should you have need of her.”

Toni Stark (Evelyn Potter) wakes up flat on her back with a roaring in her ears and the ground trembling underneath her.  It’s very much a novel concept for her, seeing as she hadn’t expected to survive her trip to space (Evelyn hadn’t expected to be dumped into her new life right at the end of an attempted siege on a city).  Turns out, the roaring is because Hulk is standing over her and not just a ringing in her ears like she’d originally thought.  And the ground trembling is from him moving back and forth. “What just happened?” she says faintly, staring up at the sky while absentmindedly wondering where her face plate went.

Captain Rogers, who for some reason is kneeling beside her absolutely covered in dirt and grime and sweat (she’s not sure how she feels about him now), says “We won.”

Not exactly what she’d call a rousing victory, given her new history, but she’ll take it for now.  There will be time later to delve into the implications of what she saw.  Right now she has more immediate pressing concerns to deal with.  So despite her every muscle screaming in protest, Toni pushes herself upright through sheer force of will (getting back up again after the world’s brought her low is something she’s always been good at) (Evelyn is the reason she accepts the hand offered to her to assist in getting to her feet, never one to scorn the help of an ally).

“Lady Stark—” Thor (freaking Thor Odinson) rumbles, brow furrowing after assuring that she’s steady on her feet and not about to fall back over.

“Not now,” she barks, voice authoritative in a way it’s never truly been before.  Because there’s a big difference between the runaround she truly adores giving the board members of Stark Industries and being a fucking General in a war (Rhodey will cry so god damn much if she ever tells him, he’s never wanted her to become a soldier like him).

“Stark, if you’re hurt—” Rogers starts.

She huffs, because if he’s really worried about that then he should’ve mentioned something before she got up and possibly screwed something up (her chest aches, but that’s nothing new) (Toni knows the ache of an arc reactor shoved into her chest and Evelyn knows the ache of the magic of the world pressing down on her). “I’m not hurt, Spangles.  Point Break over here just somehow recognizes the fact that I was affected by my little trip to outer space.  Nothing bad.”

“Lady Stark, you are touched by Death,” Thor protests.

She flashes him a grin that’s all teeth despite the fact that she can practically feel exhaustion teasing at the edges of her senses. “Death’s an old friend of mine, Odinson.  I wasn’t named the Merchant of Death for nothing.  I followed in my daddy’s footsteps like a good little girl and continued to make things that go boom .  Now, if we’re done nattering away like a bunch of old ladies, we’ve got some ninja spies to collect and then a demigod to confront.  Although I hear tell that Green Bean over here made a dent in my floor with your brother.”

“Hulk smash puny god.”

“Barton’s making his way to us,” Romanoff says, having just appeared herself.

“Lovely.” And Toni intends to kidnap Clint no matter what Fury might say.  She became rather fond of him when he worked for her two years ago despite the fact that she was just a mission to him to begin with, and she doesn’t think that there’s anyone better to look after the man considering the fact that she doesn’t think anyone on this Earth has ever had to deal with magical mind fuckery before (she, unfortunately, now has ample amount of experience talking someone through having been forced to do things that they normally would never consider doing for all that the idea of magic makes the Stark in her want to pitch a fit) (and if the powers that both Thor and Loki seem to wield are what Death was implying are Lady Hekate’s touch, she and said deity are going to have words when she dies again).

“Miss me that much, have you Stark?” Barton teases as he gingerly picks his way towards them.  The fact that she’s pretty sure she saw him topple off a building probably doesn’t help.  Given that she fell out of the fucking sky means she sympathizes with how he must be feeling about now (doesn’t mean she’s not going to give him shit about taking the fast track back down the ground).

Toni scoffs, despite the fact that she actually has (Toni Stark has an image to uphold, after all) (Evelyn Potter knows far too much about having to maintain an upheld image in the wake of a battle even when you feel like collapsing). “In your dreams, birdbrain.  You ought to know that I’m not above stealing you if I want you around, and have I stolen you yet?  No.  Ergo, I haven’t missed your stupid face.”

“Aw, that’s practically a love confession from you.”

“Quit flirting with me, it’s alarming.”

“Guys, is now really the time for this?” Rogers interjects.

Toni shoots him a perturbed look. “We’re not dead or dying, and frankly I’m going to milk this eye of the hurricane situation we have going on right now, because once the masses descend upon us it’s going to be utter chaos.  But since you think this isn’t a good time for banter, then why don’t we all haul ass back to my tower and see what we can’t do about the nutjob who caused all this.”

“That is still my brother you speak of,” Thor warns. “I know he has not endeared himself to you, but he has stood by my side for over a thousand years now and we’ve thought him lost for the last two.”

Toni finds herself blinking stupidly at him (it’s not her proudest moment), the words ‘a thousand years’ bouncing around in her head like ping pong balls.  Because even though Death flat out said it, it’s still a bit of a shock to hear Thor freaking Odinson casually come out and say that he’s been alive for over a thousand years (cause apparently demi-gods are now a thing she deals with) (she’s not calling Thor or any of his people full on gods until she learns if they can die, mostly because Death implied that they were once considered gods, not that they actually were gods). “You and I are gonna have a long conversation after we deal with your brother, Point Break, cause I have so many questions.”

“If you would be willing to do the same, I would welcome such a conversation with you,” Thor intones, sounding every inch a prince.

“Fury won’t like that,” Clint comments blandly, although Toni can see a mischievous twinkle in the man’s eyes like he’s already relishing the idea of one upping his boss.

Toni scoffs again. “I’m Toni fucking Stark.  Like I’d let mister pirate spy man tell me what I can and can’t do.” She runs an assessing eye over Clint.  Despite his casual outward demeanor, she can see the hollowness in his eyes that speaks to a man who’s been forced to do unspeakable things against his will. “Speaking of which, I’ve just decided that I’m going to keep you around for a bit, Legolas.  I’ve thought up some things I need done that you’d be perfect for.”

He offers her a wry smile. “Not sure I’m going to be up for much anytime soon, Toni.”

She waves him off. “Trust me when I say that you’re exactly what I need.” Then something occurs to her courtesy of her former time as a General (something she’s suddenly glad for because this is a shit show of epic proportions), and she reaches up to touch the earpiece miraculously still in her ear. “JARVIS, baby boy, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear Ma’am.”

For now she ignores the silent judgment in his tone (also the accent almost reduces her to tears but like hell is she going to cry now) (Starks are made of iron after all, and tears would only make them rust, thanks much Howard Stark). “I need you to start organizing a few things for me.  First things first, though, what’s the structural integrity look like for my tower right now?”

“Despite the beating it has endured, there are no issues that I can discern at the moment.”

A grin spreads across her lips, not that JARVIS can see it (of course, he knows her so well he’s probably already aware). “Excellent.  Then Human Resources is going to earn their weight in bonuses if everything I’m about to ask for all goes relatively smoothly.”

“We are ever at your service, Ma’am.” There’s a touch of dry humor in her AI’s voice.

Toni just shakes her head ( again, not like JARVIS can see her doing it, but her boy knows her ) and starts off towards her tower with the air of expecting everyone else to just follow. “My tower’s got about 30 levels that I don’t have anything in yet, and we’ve now got a whole section of the city that’s effectively shut down.  I need people coordinating with the local fire departments, the local police departments, and all the hospitals that’ll be affected by what just happened to route people our way who don’t need a hospital room.  We can become a sort of way station.  I also need people prepping sleeping quarters for all sorts.  There’s no telling how many people haven’t got a place to spend the night because of those stupid space whales.  Each level gets its own code that’s given out when people check in for the night.  And to top it all off, we’re going to need to feed people, both our people and everyone we’re bringing in, but transportation is going to be absolute shit for a while so that’s going to take a special kind of coordination.  Make sure that any local place that is willing and able to provide us freshly cooked food gets generously tipped.”

“As you say, Ma’am.”

“Oh!  And also let Finances know that I’m approving up to sixteen hours per day for people if they want to pull overtime for the duration of this shit show clean up, and that I’ll fill those paychecks myself if necessary, but that we will be cracking down on idiots who try to go beyond that.  That and the fact that an eight hour break afterwards will be mandatory.  Don’t you dare bring up any mention of hypocrisy, J, I’m well aware of my bad habits, but that doesn’t mean we need to encourage that with the minions.”

(Evelyn Potter might not have been quite as bad as Toni Stark about not taking care of herself, but she chalks that up to having more friends to force her into bed or eating food.)

(Who knows if the memories of those threats will be enough to keep her semi-healthy now, but she figures they’ll help Rhodey and Pepper and Happy going forward.)

“Christ, Stark, that’s gonna be a hell of a check,” Clint mutters.

Toni waves a hand through the air. “I’m filthy rich, I can handle it.  We need everyone who’s willing to step up, and if money helps pave the way, then so be it.” And, unfortunately, this won’t be the first time she foots a huge bill for the better of the common people (the Ministry for Magic was always stingy when it came to helping the common witch or wizard).

“So what, you’re going to bribe people into working?” Rogers asks from behind her.

Toni stops mid-stride, spins on her heel (a real fucking feat given that she’s in the suit and power’s pretty much caput), and points a finger semi-threateningly at the super soldier who blinks in surprise at her ( he’s lucky she’s not willing to waste the bare minimum of power that’s slowly trickling back to flare her gauntlets at him ). “I’m cutting you some slack because you’ve been in the ice for almost seventy years now, and I haven’t got a clue how long you’ve actually been awake, so the culture shock must be real,” she snaps (the General in her is fucking pissed that he’d accuse her of stooping to bribing, but he can’t know that) (no one knows that, and a part of her wants to cry over it despite this all being her decision), “but don’t you ever accuse me of bribing anyone to work ever again.  I have spent the last three years cleaning up my company after I got a hell of a wake-up call in Afghanistan to make sure that there’s not a single soul who works for Stark Industries who does either.  Do you understand?”

She gets stared at by everyone (well, not Hulk) save Clint (he helped with some of the clean up, so he knows just how serious about the bribing she is).  The archer chuckles, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “Yeah, I think he gets it, Stark.”

She huffs and starts up her march again. “And for the record, Captain,” she tosses over her shoulder, “I’m going to be paying for overtime because I care about the fact that my people will most definitely be doing overtime regardless of whether or not I pay them, and if I can pay them, then that puts their families in better positions in the long run despite the fact that Stark Industries pays really well to begin with.”

Clint snorts out a chuckle. “Yeah, Clive Beldon got a pretty nice paycheck.”

“I don’t even wanna know where that paycheck really went,” she mutters, envisioning all things Fury likely bought with said paycheck (she had almost skimped on that paycheck, but Clint (Clive) had (unfortunately) earned every fucking dollar).

Clint laughs, sounding just for a moment like the weight of everything that just happened isn’t pressing down on him. “I can safely say that Fury never touched a dollar of your money.  It went to a much better cause.”

That intrigues Toni for a number of reasons, chief among them that Clint actually sounds truthful, but they’ve reached the base of her tower so she shelves her questions for later.  Of course, now that they’ve arrived, one particular issue becomes glaringly obvious. “Green Bean, I don’t think you’re going to fit into my elevator,” Toni states, already thinking about how she might be able to fix that.  The front door, thankfully, isn’t an issue since she went with a two story lobby (though the fact that most of the glass is still in tack seems nothing short of a miracle). “Do you think you can get back to the top without too much further damage?”

Hulk just grunts before launching himself into the air.  Toni tips her head back to briefly watch him go, but he does indeed seem to be doing little to no damage to her tower and the surrounding buildings.  It’s a bit awe inspiring, actually (he vaguely reminds Evelyn of the giants that Voldemort used during the war, but he’s much more self aware than any of them ever appeared to be) (then again, they were on opposite sides, so she never really took the time to learn much more than how to take them down).

Stepping inside the lobby, Toni is reminded of the fact that her people are rock stars, because they’re already working hard at cleaning it up.  Of course, she’s in no way prepared for the first person who lays eyes on her to drop their broom and practically shout, “Ms Stark!” and causing all productivity to come screeching to a halt. “Oh my god, Ms Stark , you’re okay!” She’s suddenly surrounded by a multitude of people. “You are okay, right Ms Stark?”

“As well as one can be after getting beaten up by aliens of all things,” she says a touch dryly, not really willing or wanting to go into more detail than that (Astoria would have her head about such thoughts) (but Astoria isn’t here to yell at her anymore). “But enough about that.  My friends and I have some unfinished business up in my penthouse.  Keep up the good work down here.”

All around her, eyes go wide as her employees seem to actually notice the other people she’s with.  Then, one of the secretaries that Toni vaguely recognizes from her few trips through the lobby proper seems to rally herself and loudly clears her throat (the fact that pretty much every single person jumps at the noise is mildly amusing) (that and the fact that they all look like scolded school children). “Thank you, ma’am.  Everyone, back to work.”

Toni manages to catch the name tag (Harrison) and resolves to check in with JARVIS later to see if Harrison continues to keep everyone in line, and where exactly she currently is on the secretary totem pole.  Still, it’s a thought for later.  For now, she leads her band of misfits to the elevator (that’s as miraculously intact as most of her glass windows) (it’s a little spooky, she’s not used to her luck being this good in either life).  With Hulk having gone up on his own, the five of them fit without feeling like they’re packed in like sardines. JARVIS, the brat, starts playing a piano cover of That Don't Impress Me Much the instant the doors shut.  While Rogers and Thor jump at the (to them) unexpected noise, Toni just shoots one of the cameras in the elevator an unimpressed look.  Thankfully the ride is both fast and smooth, and then Toni is stomping out onto the first floor of her penthouse and cracking a grin at the dents in her floor where Hulk obviously smashed Loki who has managed to pull himself over to the very brief flight of stairs (she might just keep them for posterity's sake, although Pepper will probably throw a fit at the mere idea).  Hulk is sitting on the balcony outside, but he comes bounding in when he spots Toni.  Collectively, all the Avengers (and where the hell did Fury even come up with that name, anyways?) form a semi-circle around the downed demi-god.  Loki manages to turn himself around so he’s facing them, and Toni feels an eyebrow hike up and her lips tug at a smirk when he says, “If it’s all the same, I’ll have that drink now.” She has to admire his gumption, given that the mess waiting to be cleaned up citywide is all his fault.  Then ten years of war instincts rear their prickly heads, specifically the ones honed by the fear of glamor charms and Polyjuice Potion.

“J, right hand,” she barks, and the right hand gauntlet of her suit drops to the floor with an echoing thud by her feet.  Before anyone can stop her, she’s reaching out and grabbing Loki by the chin while dropping down onto one knee. “Son of a bitch,” she grumbles, mostly to herself as she confirms her suspicions.  The man’s eyes are now an emerald green that she (Evelyn) is used to seeing in the mirror every day.  Not the icy blue that was very similar to the Tesseract for some odd reason. “Who?” she demands, intent on staring him down until she gets the answer she’s looking for.  The stupid demi-god just stares at her. “Who did that?”

“Ma’am, I hate to interrupt your interrogation, but there is a Doctor Jane Foster requesting entrance down in the lobby,” JARVIS interjects. “She has a Miss Darcy Lewis with her as well.”

Toni wants to scream, because this has got to be the worst time for an interruption, but she also understands Foster’s need to probably confront Thor Odinson.  If she’s remembering correctly, the woman hasn’t seen Thor since he dropped into her life two years ago, and that was only for a couple of days (though Toni thought she recalls Coulson mentioning that they’d moved Foster over to Norway for her own safety, but she might’ve misheard) (she really don’t think she misheard, mishearing leads too often to displeasure from the adults in her life, and that’s something she actively avoided happening in both lives). “Let her up, J.”

“You have my thanks, Lady Stark,” Thor intones behind her.

Releasing Loki’s chin, Toni twists so she can look up at the demi-god of Thunder. “I’d brace yourself, Point Break,” she says dryly. “There’s nothing quite like a scorned woman’s anger two years in the making.”

“Amen to that,” Clint mutters.

Toni gives him a searching look. “Speaking from experience there, Barton?”

He doesn’t get a chance to answer, as the elevator dings softly and the doors slide open.  Toni opens her mouth to greet the two women inside, only to abruptly choke on her words.  She’s seen pictures of Jane Foster before, knows of the woman if only because she likes to keep track of her fellow female scientists in passing (especially the more obscure ones), but it’s only now that they’re face to face for the first time ever that she realizes that she knows this woman.  Knows her in the very depths of her soul.

Thor steps forward, obviously intent on greeting both women (probably mostly Jane), but Jane holds up a hand to stop him. “I’ll deal with you later, Thor.” The sound of her voice is like a punch to the chest.  She knows that voice, despite never having heard the woman speak before.  Toni finds herself reduced to gaping as Jane approaches.

“Mi?” she whispers hoarsely, hardly daring to believe it (hardly understanding how it’s even possible) (wondering who exactly back in their old world she should’ve killed to prevent this being necessary).

“You utter idiot,” Jane Foster (Hermione Granger) chokes out, throwing her arms around Toni’s (Evelyn’s) shoulders despite the fact that Toni still has the battered suit on (they’ve hugged while completely covered in blood and dust and mud and sweat) (a little bit of metal is nothing at this point). “You bloody arse, don’t ever do something like that ever again.”

Chapter 2

June 2, 2010

Jane Foster waits by the Bifrost sight until the magic in it seems to fade away right before their very eyes and the sun starts to set. “He’s not coming back,” she says dully.  While the little girl inside of her wants to believe Thor was telling the truth when he’d said that he’d return for her, the more grown up part of her wonders if he’ll actually be able to keep his promise.  He’s a prince for crying out loud, the crown prince of an alien culture that people used to view as gods .  In what universe would someone like him end up with someone like her?

“We can come back tomorrow if you want, Boss Lady,” Darcy offers as she and Erik lead Jane back to where they parked the car, seeing as Thor is the one who brought her all the way out here in the first place.  With a magical flying hammer.

She just shakes her head, throat clogged up for a multitude of reasons that she really doesn’t want to discuss right now.  So instead she gets into the van and rests her head against the window to watch the desert scenery go by as Darcy drives them back to Puente Antiguo.  This last week has been absolutely exhausting with its ups and downs, and despite the fact that some part of her is still giddy that she got to meet actual aliens, she knows she can’t talk about it with anyone other than Darcy or Erik because something tells her that the SHIELD people won’t be anywhere near as talkative about it.  If they talk to her at all.

Tomorrow she’s going to get to work and figure out the damn Einstein Bridge because that’s what she was looking for even before Thor swept through her life.  Now it’ll help her see Thor again if nothing else and get some answers.  But that’s for tomorrow.

Tonight she plans on raiding the freezer and pigging out on all the ice cream she can, because damn it, she just got stood up by an alien prince.  It might not’ve been his intention, but it’s what happened.  Thankfully, Darcy just concentrates on driving, and Erik’s too busy scribbling away in his notebook, so neither of them press her further.

When they finally make it back to Puente Antiguo, the last of the SHIELD floozies are leaving after having returned all her equipment to her.  Normally she’d be thrilled, and she is because that’s her life’s work right there, but again, stood up by an alien prince.  She’ll celebrate in the morning.

Instead, Jane makes a beeline for the fridge, goes for the cookie dough ice cream they have shoved way in the back, and plonks herself down on the couch to start aggressively shoveling said ice cream into her mouth.

“You’re gonna give yourself a brain freeze,” Darcy mutters, joining her with a second spoon.  Jane just wordlessly offers her the carton of ice cream.  They sit there eating in silence while Erik putters around muttering to himself. “So what’s the plan, Boss Lady?” Darcy finally asks after they’ve devoured half the ice cream carton.

Jane heaves a sigh, slumping slightly. “Tonight, I’m wallowing.  I think I’m allowed a wallow or two.”

“Sure, definitely,” Darcy agrees, nodding with a mock solemn expression. “And tomorrow?”

Despite the melancholy she’s feeling, Jane still manages to let a slightly smug smile spread across her lips. “Get to work, of course.  That Bridge isn’t going to find itself, after all.”

“Course it’s not,” Darcy says. “Super Secret Agent Man offered you his super secret group’s help with the research, right?”

“Yeah, that should help.” Jane points her spoon at her intern and friend. “But enough talk about work.  I’m wallowing, Darce, and that means I’m saying no work talk right now.”

“Gotcha, Boss Lady.” Darcy salutes her with her own spoon. “Whatever you say.”

They sit there and continue to eat ice cream until Erik finally comes over with three mugs of steaming tea.  Jane nearly protests until she smells the bourbon in it.  She sets the ice cream aside and cradles the mug Erik passes her in between both hands, letting the heat of it chase away the chill from the ice cream.  She takes a hearty sip as Erik drops gracelessly into the armchair next to the couch.

After seemingly downing half his cup, Erik leans forward and fixes his gaze on Jane. “Do you want me to stay?” he asks. “Despite what you seem to think, your understanding of the Einstein Bridge far exceeds mine, and that was even before our…ah…visitors.  I’m more than willing to stick around to be a second set of eyes if you want, but I don’t truly think that you need me to.”

Jane worries her lower lip between her teeth.  If he’d been asking her that even three days ago, she wouldn’t have believed him.  Three days ago before they drove out into the desert and she hit an alien with her van, she’d been starting to wonder if she wasn’t chasing after fairy tales.  Apparently she had been, but this particular fairy tale was actually true. “Could you stay for maybe a week?” she requests. “If it’s not, that’s perfectly okay, but—”

“Jane.” Erik reaches out and lays a hand on her knee that she hadn’t even noticed was bouncing. “The semester’s over and I don’t have any responsibilities this summer.  I can manage another week out here.”

Jane’s shoulders slump in relief.  She might be a grown ass woman, but Erik’s been like a father to her ever since he took her under his wing back when she was an undergraduate at Culiver.  The fact that he was friends with her dad and could tell her stories also helps. “Then if it’s all the same to you guys, I’m going to go to bed and I’m officially suggesting that we leave the mess over there—” She waves her hand at all the equipment that SHIELD so graciously returned. “—until tomorrow.  My brain is in no way up to straightening that out tonight.”

“Yes ma’am, Boss Lady ma’am,” Darcy proclaims with another lazy salute, this time with her hot toddy mug.

Jane just shakes her head fondly.  She hadn’t known what to think when she’d first met her intern, but Darcy’s grown on her.  The quirky woman is everything she hadn’t known she’d needed in an assistant, a role Darcy had slipped into almost seamlessly, and Jane hopes she’ll be able to keep in touch after the internship is over with.  But those are thoughts for later down the road.  Right now all Jane cares about as she meanders upstairs is her bed.  Mindful that Darcy will give her hell if she sleeps in her clothes, stood up by an alien prince or not, Jane scavenges up some pajamas before letting herself fall face first onto her pillow.  She manages maybe five minutes before the whirlwind of the past three days abruptly catches up and sleep slams into her with the speed of a freight train.

“Are you happy about this, then?” Hermione demands, voice thick with tears as the seven of them survey the remnants of whatever ritual Evelyn performed last night. “We could’ve stopped her if any of you just did something!”

“Happy is the last word I would use to describe what I am currently feeling,” Daphne says, voice glacial cold. “I am no more pleased by this than you are, Hermione, but there was nothing we could do to make her stay that wouldn’t end with her absolutely despising us in later years.  By Morgana, even Teddy encouraged her to go!”

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear on the subject, Hermione,” Hannah states warningly. “And I thought you understood that as well.”

Hermione huffs, but folds her arms in silent defeat because she does understand.  She understands all too well when she really wishes she didn’t.  And she knows that none of them are truly pleased about this, but her temper is short and she keeps lashing out because normally Evelyn is the one who’d calm her franticness down.  But Eve’s not here, which is the crux of all of Hermione’s problems now.

“She made it through, in case you were wondering,” Luna murmurs, magic withdrawing from having brushed over the runes carved into the floor. “Though not without a sacrifice on her part.”

“Sacrifice?” Astoria demands, sounding indignant. “Hasn’t she sacrificed enough already?  What more could anyone demand of her that she hasn’t already given?”

Luna turns sad yet knowing eyes to her fellow Ravenclaw. “You know as well as I do that there is no record of what using the Hallows in ritual craft would demand of a person.  And she used them.  She used them and they have apparently followed her in some fashion, because they are no longer in this world.”

Ginny sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. “Bloody hell, that can’t be good.”

Hermione barely manages to keep from raking a hand through her curls. “This is why I wanted to help!  I’m not saying that Eve didn’t triple check everything,” she hurriedly assures her friends when she gets six varying degrees of affront focused on her. “But you must agree that there’s something to be said for having a second pair of eyes to look over anything of this magnitude.  And while she quite honestly took to Ancient Runes with a skill I wish she’d shown during our Hogwarts years, you know that Astoria and I are much better at Arithmancy than any of the rest of you.”

“She wanted to protect us,” Ginny says softly, leaning a shoulder against the nearby stone wall. “We’re all she really had left here, and she wanted to protect us until her last breath.” She shoots a rueful look at Hermione. “You’ve not had much luck in the twenty one years we’ve known her on changing that.”

A sniffle escapes. “No, I really didn’t.”

They all just stand there in silence, starting at the ritual circle.

“I’ll go alert Kingsley, if he hasn’t already been alerted by Gringotts or Wizengamot,” Susan says softly. “Best begin to brace yourselves, ladies.  I doubt anyone will truly accept this news with any sort of grace.”

While Daphne, Susan, and Hannah are required to be at the emergency Wizengamot meeting that gets called later in the day, Hermione is free to go with Luna, Ginny, and Astoria to check on Teddy.  He probably already knows that Evelyn is gone, both because she visited him not too long ago, but the magical connection between them would’ve been severed once Evelyn completed her ritual.  It wouldn’t surprise Hermione at all if he’d simply put on a brave face for his godmother.  So they’re going to offer some moral support to the young boy who just lost his mother figure since Hannah had put her foot down hard at the idea of bringing the boy along to the Wizengamot meeting.  Not that any of them had really argued against it.  He knows the contents of Evelyn’s will.  They all know it, and the fourteen-year-old doesn’t need to listen to old men argue about his inheritance that he’s getting come hell or high water, no matter what the Wizengamot thinks.

So instead of shouting down old men stuck in their ways like Daphne, Susan, and Hannah are going to be doing, Hermione gets to go back to the first place that ever felt like home to her.  The place where she made her first friend and eventually found a family unlike anything she could’ve imagined for herself when she was younger.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

She’s not surprised that Headmistress McGonagall meets them at the gate. “I have Mister Lupin up in my quarters.  As I’m sure you can imagine, he woke up rather distraught during the night and his roommates were unable to calm him.  I removed him from that situation as I assumed he wouldn’t wish the attention that is soon to come bearing down on him once the truth of the matter becomes known to the general populace.”

“You are a gem beyond all measure, Headmistress,” Astoria says with a grateful smile.

McGonagall gives them a barely discernible nod before turning on her heel and starting towards the castle.  Despite not having been a student for over ten years, it still seems like second nature to fall into step behind her former Head of House.  Of course, Evelyn was usually the reason behind Hermione having to follow her Head of House anywhere.  And while technically this time is also Evelyn’s fault, this is the first time Hermione’s made the walk without Evelyn at her side.

Almost as if she can sense Hermione’s thoughts, Luna maneuvers herself so she can press her shoulder to Hermione’s briefly.  Once upon a time, the oddness that dogs Luna every step would’ve driven Hermione to distraction.  She relied very heavily on books and authority figures to get her information about the world as a child, including a rather strict moral code.  The war broke her of that reliance, mostly because she realized that there was precious little she wouldn’t do for Evelyn.  Nowadays, she’s come to very much appreciate Luna's unique view.  It saved their arses many a time during the war.  She makes sure to lean back against Luna as thanks.

Mercifully, they’ve managed to arrive while classes are in session, so there’s no one in the halls as they follow McGonagall back to her quarters, although Astoria hurries forward to talk briefly in a hushed voice with the Headmistress.  The only eyes that follow them now are the eyes of the portraits, and Hermione’s well past caring what some stuffy old portrait thinks of her or her friends.

Teddy’s curled up on McGonagall’s sofa, a blanket around his shoulders and a blanket across his lap with a mug of some steaming liquid in his hands that he’s staring at as he sniffles occasionally.  His red eyes are really the only indication that something’s not quite right.  But then he looks up, sees the four of them, and barely manages to get his drink down without spilling it before hurling himself across the room and into Astoria’s arms.  His shoulders shake but any further tears are silent, and it breaks Hermione’s heart to see.  The war’s taken so much from them, even the ability to grieve as they normally would.

Astoria follows him to the ground when his knees buckle out from underneath him, her magic humming with comfort, love, and acceptance.  Luna kneels with her and adds her magic to the mix while Ginny and Hermione remain upright so they can more easily stand guard.  The habit’s too ingrained by now for them to so easily dismiss it, though intellectually Hermione knows that precious little could actually get to them at Hogwarts nowadays.  Headmistress McGonagall is nowhere near as lax concerning security as Headmaster Dumbledore was.  Though she thankfully retreats through the door that Hermione is fairly certain leads to her office to give them privacy.

“She’s really gone, isn’t she?” Teddy finally whispers after a time.

“She is,” Luna says, and Hermione suppresses a shudder at the finality in her voice.  Her magic knows it to be true, but it’s painful to hear it spoken out loud. “How are you holding up with all of this?”

“Been better,” he mumbles, drawing back to scrub at his tear-streaked face. “Been worse too.”

Astoria huffs out a tired, yet amused sounding breath of air. “Honestly, you and Eve.  You’re both terrible influences on each other.” She gracefully gets to her feet and tugs Teddy up with her who she then maneuvers back onto the sofa.  Once he’s bundled back up, Astoria fixes him with a firm expression. “Now as I’m sure you’re well aware, the next few months will not be pretty.  The next few days are going to be utter pandemonium while crotchety old men yell at one another about who’s to blame for this whole mess they’ve managed to land themselves in.  The depths of rudeness that people will be sinking to in the days, weeks, months, and even years to come will astound you.  Should you, at any time, need one of us, do not hesitate to ask for us be it by owl, Floo, or Patronus.  If you call, we will come.” She tucks a finger under Teddy’s chin when he dips his head, leaning forward to make sure the boy is paying full attention. “And it’s not simply because that is what Evelyn would’ve wanted us to do.  You became ours the moment Evelyn was granted custody of you.  So don’t think for one moment that you must suffer through this alone.  Do you understand me?”

With another sniffle, Teddy nods his head. “Yes, Auntie.”

Astoria gifts him with a smile and a kiss to the forehead. “Good boy.  Now while Daphne, Hannah, and Susan wrangle all those crotchety old men sitting in Wizengamot, we are going to sit here in Headmistress McGonagall’s quarters and regale you with some of the more interesting stories we have of Eve from our school years with whatever the house elves decide to provide for food.  How does that sound?”

He snorts out a watery sounding chuckle. “Really good, actually.”

“Well, Eve got into plenty of mischief during our Hogwarts years,” Hermione comments dryly, sitting down in one of the arm chairs nearby. “We should definitely be able to keep ourselves occupied until the others can join us.”

“How bad is it, truly?” Astoria asks her sister after they’ve tucked Teddy into bed in the guest suite in McGonagall’s quarters and have retreated away into the Room of Requirements with the Headmistress’ blessing.  There’s a fireplace that’s crackling away despite it being May and they’re all in various styles of armchairs in a semi-circle around said fireplace.

“Very bad,” Daphne says grimly. “And unfortunately, we don’t have enough Lords on our side to truly counteract what they wish to do, only perhaps delay it a bit.”

“How will it affect Teddy?” Hermione wants to know, because while she doesn’t particularly care about herself right now, like hell is she going to let anything bad happen to this last little bit of Eve that she can keep safe.

Susan’s lips curl away from her teeth in a rather impressive sneer that wouldn’t have been out of place on the late Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape. “They believe they have two valid reasons to deny Teddy his inheritance.  Firstly, Evelyn never actually blood adopted him so they’re saying he’s not truly her heir for either House.  They’re even ignoring the fact that Evelyn brought Dora into House Black’s Family Magic before she died since she was merely a daughter of a cadet branch and Teddy was already born.”

All of them who weren’t at the day-long meeting suck in a sharp breath.  Hermione wonders if any of the Lords in Wizengamot would be willing to actually say that to Andromeda Tonks’ face.  The fact that Evelyn also returned Andromeda to House Black’s Family Magic is something the older witch is still proud of to this day.  To deny her grandson the right to his inheritance because his mother wasn’t a member of House Black at the time of his birth is like courting war with the woman.  Hermione almost wants to see the destruction such an accusation will eventually bring.

Susan nods sharply in wordless agreement of their obvious shock as she continues. “Secondly, he’s the son of a well known werewolf, and despite there being plenty of research out of Britain showing that the children of werewolves are in no danger of ever transforming, well.” She shrugs a shoulder. “We all know how they feel about anything not from Britain.”

Hermione huffs indignantly. “They act like it doesn’t exist.” While she might no longer treat the written word as gospel, she can still appreciate well written research.  The fact that most of the world’s advancements are ignored here in Britain solely because they disdain anything not thought up by Wizengamot makes her blood boil.

“So where does that leave us?” Ginny demands.

“For the moment, the only thing we can really do is just wait,” Hannah says. “Ride out whatever nonsense blows up because of all of this.” She sighs, slumping in her seat. “I’m worried that another war might be on the horizon as a result.”

Luna reaches over to lay a hand on Hannah’s arm. “We will weather out the coming storm together, as we always have.”

“I know,” Hannah returns, laying her own hand over Luna’s. “I just wish it wasn’t necessary.” She rapidly blinks her eyes as tears begin to well up in them. “I’ve had enough of fighting, quite honestly.”

“Then you focus on taking care of us and Teddy,” Daphne offers. “The rest of us will handle the nastiness that’s coming our way because of Wizengamot.”

“Thank you,” Hannah says hoarsely, lifting her hand to wipe away the few tears slipping down her cheeks.

Luna pats her arm. “We know you and think nothing less of you for wishing to avoid battle again.  It’s simply not in your nature, and we’d never want you to force yourself to be something you’re not when it’s not absolutely necessary.  We all know that should it ever become necessary that you will be right out there with us, but until such time comes, we are happy to have you tending to hearth and home for all of us because that is where you are happiest.”

“I am so happy that Evelyn made it possible for all of us to be friends like this,” Hannah proclaims. “I don’t want to imagine what I would have to do without all of you in my life.”

“I’ve thanked Mother Magic numerous times for whatever it is that Evelyn saw in me that made her approach Astoria and I,” Daphne murmurs. “She saved all of us in more ways than can ever be repaid.”

Hermione finds herself blinking away tears of her own now, because that’s so true.  The first eleven years of her life were a taste of life without Evelyn Potter, and after that first year at Hogwarts Hermione knew she never wanted that ever again.  And yet here she is, beginning life again without Evelyn.  She wonders slightly if this is how Evelyn felt, untethered and unsure of how to proceed, because Hermione is dead certain that it is only these six friends of hers and Teddy Lupin that are now keeping her here in Britain.  That they are now her sole reasons for continuing forward.  If that’s so, then she understands on a much deeper level how her friend’s magic could’ve driven her to use the ritual that she did.  Of course, that doesn’t make her reality any easier to accept.  And now she’s left with the worry of what their current situation might drive them to do in the future as well.

“They’ve lost their minds!” Daphne announces unceremoniously, storming into House Bones’ manor’s library with none of the grace she usually displays. “They’ve absolutely lost their minds.  Britain is utterly doomed.” She throws herself into an armchair with no grace whatsoever and an exaggerated huff.

Hermione feels her eyebrows almost touching her hairline, because this is not normal behavior from her friend.  Usually the only way to get Daphne to drop her Pureblood manners is to place her on a battlefield, and while Wizengamot has unfortunately become a battlefield of sorts these last months since Evelyn left, it’s a battlefield where said Pureblood manners normally give Daphne an advantage.

“At this rate we’re going to be courting war on all fronts,” Susan says grimly, having followed her in. “The ICW is starting to breathe down all of our necks, despites Kingsley’s numerous attempts to prevent it.  The stupid idiots don’t see that everything we’re suggesting is to keep the ICW from seizing control of our government.  Not to mention the Horde’s definitely getting restless.  It’s a disaster waiting to happen.  Something’s going to set it all off, and the aftermath is not going to be pretty.”

It’s everything Hermione always feared hearing.

She’s loved magic since the moment Headmistress McGonagall introduced her to it.  In her youthful naivety, she’d foolishly hoped that being able to go to school with other people like her, with magic , would fix all her problems about fitting in.  To her appalled ten-year-old self’s dismay, that hadn’t happened.  She’s even fought in a war based solely on the fact that some people in this magical world don’t think people like her , people with no immediate connection to their world, should be allowed to exist.  And while she’s no longer naive enough to think that at the conclusion of said war that everyone would abandon those ideas, she’d hoped for more than five measly years of tentative peace before issues started coming up again.  It’s awful to think about, but there were a good twenty five, thirty years between when Grindelwald was taken care of and Riddle started his campaign.  Hell, there was even a fifteen year break in the middle of the war with Riddle where nothing much happened, though only because he went and got his soul expelled from his body like an idiot and his followers were too terrified to do much else besides push obscene laws through Wizengamot.

Yet here they are, five measly years from the conclusion of the ten year long war they fought and bled and sacrificed for, with the crotchety old men in charge falling back into their blinded ways while dragging the general populous with them with little to no regard to the devastation they leave in their wake.

“Do we have to stay?” Ginny abruptly asks from where she’s sitting by the fireplace, making every single head turn towards her.  Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t flinch at the sudden scrutiny.  She merely lifts her chin a fraction of an inch higher and asks again, “Do we have to stay?  They’re denying Teddy his heritage no matter what Susan and Daphne have attempted to do to stop it from happening, and barely anyone wants anything to do with any of us.  What’s keeping us here?”

It’s unfortunately true.

Hermione memory charmed her parents a little too well.  They’re thriving in Australia, and with how drastically she changed, she doesn’t have the heart to attempt to fix it only for them to discover just how little of their baby girl remains.  She doesn’t think she’ll be able to stand it if they end up turning her away, so she’s left them be as they are now, happy and child free.

Luna, Susan, and Hannah are all three the last of their immediate lines.  Luna lost her father during a raid despite their best attempts to save him.  Susan’s now lost her family twice over now, once as a baby and now as an adult.  And while Hannah has a few scattered cousins remaining, she’s not close with any of them.

Astoria and Daphne are no longer welcome amongst their old relations, despite having chosen the eventual winning side of the war.  Siding with the Girl-Who-Lived who sat with Purebloods and Mudbloods alike was too much, and their parents were also killed during a raid, though thankfully not one either was a part of.  Hermione remembers sitting in vigil with them the night after, along with everyone else in their little group, letting them mourn without interruption.  The next day they wouldn’t hear a single word spoken about the matter.

Ginny hasn’t been back to the Burrow since the middle of the war.  Mostly because of Molly.  Molly Weasely might’ve meant well, but in her attempts to coddle her younger children to an untold degree to keep them out of the war, she lost all of Ginny’s respect and patience for her.  The other reason is that too many of her brothers died during the war and returning to a semi-empty house is too painful for her, also in part because of how her mother mourns them.  So she just stays away.

“Precious little,” Astoria grumbles. “I think we all underestimated the sheer amount of attention Evelyn took away from us while she was here.  Even though there’s seven of us, we’re all drowning in it.”

“They’ll follow us wherever we go,” Hermione feels the need to point out, even though her magic is practically singing with the rightness of Ginny’s unspoken suggestion. “We knew that when we were discussing helping Eve.  I doubt they’ll grant us that particular mercy when they refused to offer it to her.”

“Then let us follow our Lady General to wherever it is she went,” Luna announces solemnly.

Hermione finds herself blinking in shock. “Is that even possible?” There’s nothing she’d like more, but Evelyn well and truly left their world.  They have no way of knowing where she ended up, so she’s not sure how they’d connect to an unknown world to be able to follow.

Luna’s lips twitch in a parody of a smile. “It is, I’ve been looking.” This makes chuckles ripple through the room, because if there’s one thing that Luna truly excels at, it’s looking for the unfindable and then finding it. “It will require further sacrifices on all of our parts, but it should be manageable.”

Hermione’s heart lurches in her chest, and she finds she has to turn away as tears begin to well up.  She presses a hand to her trembling lips and squeezes her eyes shut while her friends’ voices continue in the background.  To hear that there’s a feasible way to follow after Evelyn is by the far the most beautiful thing Hermione’s ever heard.  She knows she’s been floundering, but nothing has been able to anchor her.  Not since she lost her first, true friend.  A sob catches in the back of her throat, making the still ongoing conversation cease. “You’re certain?” she chokes out, looking beseechingly at Luna despite knowing that her friend has never been one to offer false hope of any kind.

Luna stands from where she’s sitting on the other side of the room and crosses over so she can kneel at Hermione’s feet.  She takes Hermione’s hand in her own and gives it a gentle squeeze. “As certain as the magic inside me,” she proclaims, knowing that Hermione will understand the weight of such a statement.

Another sob hiccups its way out of her, then Hermione is bending over and pressing the heels of her palms to watery eyes.  Her shoulders shake even as Luna rises just enough to wrap her own arms around them.  More hands touch her until she’s practically drowning in the love and acceptance of all of her friends’ magic.  For the first time in nearly four months she feels steadied.  She has a purpose again.  And by Merlin is she going to fulfill it.

June 3, 2010

“Jane! Janie, Jane, Jane, JAAAAAANE!”

Hermione wakes with a jolt.  No, that’s not correct.  She’s not Hermione Granger anymore.  She’s Jane Foster, a scientist of little renown at the moment, but apparently she knows gods so that might change.  And she’s been woken up because her intern is shouting her name at the top of her lungs while thundering up the steps.  She has just a moment to blink in realization that the ritual she and her friends attempted even worked before Darcy bursts into her room with little fanfare.

“Jane, do you have any bald monk lady friends that you forgot to mention?” her new/old friend demands hotly, hands on her hips to truly display just how annoyed she is about something.

Brain still rebooting from suddenly waking up and the combination of two lives worth of memories abruptly crammed all into one place, Jane just squints and garbles out, “What?”

This earns her rolled eyes. “I know you’ve drank more alcohol than was in those toddies last night and were perfectly functioning the next day, Boss Lady.  Bald monk lady friends.  Ring any bells?”

Jane musters up her most unimpressed look.  It must be a doozy of one, because the younger woman’s expression slides into the realm of disbelief. “Darcy, I’ve never even left the country before.  Where on Earth would I meet bald monk ladies or guys for that matter?”

Darcy huffs. “Well, there’s a bald monk lady downstairs right now asking to speak with you.  Says she wants to talk mythology, which is just a little weird in my opinion given the last couple of days, but she said it was two goddesses in particular she wanted to focus on, and they weren’t of the Norse variety either.  Morg-something and Athena, although she pronounced that one differently.  Anyways, should—”

Jane’s flying out of bed, heart pounding out a dangerous tempo in her chest as she races down the stairs.

Before performing the ritual to bring themselves here, they’d all agreed that they needed a way to be certain that they’d know they’d found each other wherever they landed as there was no way of knowing if they’d recognize each other or if they’d even look the same.  So they’d settled on the code names Evelyn had chosen for themselves during the war.

Their Lady General had rather tellingly named them all after various goddesses.

Hermione’s code name had been Athene.

Luna’s—blessed, wonderful Luna who made this whole thing even possible—was Morrígan.

Stumbling into their meager kitchen, there is indeed a bald monk lady in yellow and orange robes sitting at the table with a steaming mug of something cradled in her hands.  A deep sort of knowing settles somewhere in Jane’s chest at the sight of her.

“Luna?” Jane yelps, unable to help herself because she did not expect to actually find one of her friends so quickly.  Or rather for one of her friends to find her so quickly.  Not that she’s complaining, but still.  Unexpected to say the least.

The woman places her clay mug onto the table with minutely trembling hands. “Hello old friend.  I’m very pleased to see you again after all these years.” She turns ancient eyes her way, and Jane abruptly finds herself choking on her words.

Hermione might not’ve been a healer like Astoria or as nurturing as Hannah, but she damn well prided herself on her observational skills.  To allow those to slacken was akin to admitting defeat on the battlefield and liable to make everyone you were with injured or dead.

“How long?” Jane demands, voice whipcord sharp.  Because the eyes looking at her have seen far too many years.  Far too many and her skin’s starting to crawl just thinking about the implications.

This, of course, earns her a rather wry smile. “Well, there’s not much you can do about it at this point.”

“Don’t play games with me,” she barks, ignoring the fact that Darcy’s come down the stairs and is probably confused as hell about all of this. “ How long ?”

“Nearly seven hundred years, if my count’s correct,” her long time friend says softly.

Jane inhales sharply, not at all pleased by that answer.  Why the hell Luna had to be alone for seven hundred years is something she’s going to get to the bottom of, no matter that Luna doesn’t seem to think it’s overly important.

“Sooooo, do you actually know the seven hundred year old bald monk lady?” Darcy hisses from behind. “Or should I call Super Secret Agent Man to deal with this?”

“We’re not calling SHIELD,” Jane states flatly, “and yes, I know her.”

“Oh goodie, I wasn’t looking forward to another morning surrounded by secret agents again.” Darcy steps out from behind Jane and holds out her hand. “Darcy Lewis.  I’m Janie’s intern for the next couple of months.”

“Cáelfind,” Luna—now Cáelfind—offers in return, taking Darcy’s hand between her own. “Although most call me Tao nowadays.”

“Not Luna?” Darcy presses, because of course she heard Jane call her friend by that first name.

Cáelfind smiles sadly as she lets go of Darcy’s hand. “Luna is a name from a lifetime ago.”

“Even with the whole seven hundred year thing you supposedly got going on and the fact that the relevant book only just came out seven years ago, making you way too old for this, I’ve got this really weird urge to ask if your parents were ever Potter nerds at one point,” Darcy says, her tone far too light for the fact that she’s just upended Jane’s entire world.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, collapsing into a chair that Cáelfind oh so helpfully positions just in the nick of time.  Because she has, actually, read the Harry Potter books here in this world.  When the first book in the series had come out, something about it had drawn her in, some sort of familiarity that she couldn’t explain at all.  Now she knows what that feeling was. “Oh my god , what?”

“I admit to reacting similarly when the first one was published,” Cáelfind comments, taking a sip of her drink. “Although Rolf was a pleasant enough boy from what I can remember.”

“Ronald Weasley?” Jane protests, Hermione’s accent slipping through without meaning to.  Then again, both Jane and Hermione are in firm agreement at being appalled by the mere idea of marrying Ginny’s youngest brother.  She’s also trying to wrap her head around the idea of Evelyn being a boy .  It’s simply not computing and making her head hurt the longer she thinks about it. “That boy is the most lazy arsed bastard I’ve ever laid eyes on!”

“It could be worse,” Cáelfind offers.

“I need coffee,” Jane grumbles, because she knows the only sort of tea they have is bagged, and half of her is again appalled by the mere idea.  Which is just as well because this body is used to coffee, not tea, and that’s a very weird thought to have. “And I am now officially scarred for life.  Merlin, what was that woman thinking?”

“Well, to her, we were merely a story in her mind,” Cáelfind oh so unhelpfully says. “But in all honesty, you needn’t pay her any mind.  Just avoid Britain for a bit and you should be fine.”

“Thanks ever so much,” Jane snarks, although she can’t see why she would want to go back to Britain anytime soon.  There’s too much heartbreak over there, no matter than none of it ever existed in this world she’s in now.

“Janie, what weird madness are the two of you going on about?” Darcy abruptly demands, reminding Jane that she’s not actually alone with Cáelfind.  She’s a little alarmed that she forgot so quickly.

“Why is this my life?” she mumbles, letting her head fall forward to thunk against the table. “ Why is this my life?”

“Because you secretly love the madness,” Cáelfind says, reaching over to pat Jane’s nearest shoulder. “Now be a dear and offer your friend here an explanation.”

“I literally just woke up,” she protests, “and you haven’t explained the seven hundred year thing or how you even knew how to find me!” Her spine goes ramrod straight, and the yelp from behind tells her that she nearly nailed Darcy in the head, but she’ll worry about that later. “Eve!  Where’s Eve?”

“Our Lady General’s not here yet,” Cáelfind states calmly, taking another sip of her drink.

Jane sputters. “Not here yet?  What do you mean, not here yet?  We followed her here!”

Cáelfind sets her drink down with a firmness that startles Jane. “Much the same way I have been here for seven hundred years already, Athene.  I realize you’ve truly just woken up, but think for a moment.  Use that brilliant mind of yours that got you named the brightest witch of our age.  We followed her, yes, but never once did we specify arriving after her.  Time had no meaning in that space between worlds, so why should it affect where and when we woke?  You and I were the first two to leave our old lives.  Is it so improbable to consider that she might arrive in the middle of us as she was our focus?”

“Oh my god,” Jane whispers, the enormity of her friend’s situation only just now truly hitting her. “You’ve been alone for seven hundred years.” Selfishly, she’s glad it wasn’t her, as she was breaking without Evelyn in just four months.

“And I would’ve waited another seven hundred more if it were required of me, but Jane, she is coming,” Cáelfind says, reaching out again, only this time she takes Jane’s hands between her own. “I can feel it.”

So can Jane, now that she thinks about it. “Two years,” she breathes out, the certainty both alarming and a comfort. “But wait a minute, there’s no magic here.  No magic that we’re used to anyways that would explain your bloody seven hundred years unless you’re secretly an Asgardian, because we just had a run in with some of those.”

Cáelfind, of all things, wrinkles her nose. “Hmm, yes, I did warn Frigga she ought to keep a closer eye on her boys the last time she visited.  But no, I’m still as human as you are.”

“You know about the Asgardians, of course you know about the Asgardians,” Jane mumbles to herself, slumping back over to rest her forehead against their clasped hands. “And you’re still avoiding the seven hundred year thing.”

“I will only tell it once, and our Lady General deserves to hear it from me,” Cáelfind says softly. “And you still have a friend who’s waiting rather patiently for an explanation.”

“Not really patiently,” Darcy gripes. “Just finally figured I’m more likely to get an answer out of you if I don’t try to keep interrupting.  Janie’s not too fond of interruptions.”

“That she is not,” Cáelfind says fondly.

“It’ll sound like absolute nonsense,” Jane feels the need to point out.  She hadn’t even ever planned to tell anyone in this new life about her old one, but she’d gotten so caught up in Cáelfind—in Luna —being here that she’d forgotten herself.

Darcy plunks a full mug of coffee in front of her and takes the chair on the opposite side of the table so she can stare Jane down. “Boss Lady, I’ve tased an actual god twice in the past three days.  I think I can handle you explaining how you got a bald monk lady friend and why you seem to keep slipping into a decent English accent despite, in your own words, having never left the country before.”

A secretive smile curves around Cáelfind’s lips. “Oh, Eve is going to adore you, Miss Lewis.”

May 4, 2012

It’s a little alarming to Jane when exactly one year and eleven months to the day after Thor leaves, SHIELD ships both her and Darcy—who is now Jane’s assistant as opposed to her intern—off to Tromsø, Norway without so much as a by your leave.  She doesn’t make a fuss, because SHIELD doesn’t know she knows something’s supposed to be happening soon.  It’s common sense, really.  Evelyn never does anything by halves, so Jane doesn’t imagine that her entrance into this new life will be anything less.  She’s just desperately hoping that said entrance doesn’t give her heart failure.

Darcy, thankfully, had taken the news of Jane and Cáelfind’s previous lives surprisingly well.  Then again, as Darcy had pointed out, she had tased a god twice in three days.  A little thing like her boss/friend suddenly having a whole new set of memories is practically a walk in the park after something like that.

Cáelfind, though.  Oh, Jane’s fit to wring the neck of whatever deity made it so that her friend had to spend seven hundred years alone.  She’s already hit one deity with a truck.  Twice even.  Still, Cáelfind was, unfortunately, correct that there’s not much Jane can do besides silently seethe and plan for possible retribution, as it’s already done.  So instead she makes it a point to spend as much time with Cáelfind as both their schedules and conflicting time zones allow so that Cáelfind can spend time with someone who knows her from before.

It helps that Cáelfind is the Sorcerer Supreme and can portal to wherever it is that Jane and Darcy are.

Learning that particular fact about her friend is a whole nother bundle of fun to unpack for both Jane and Darcy.  That there is magic of sorts here in this new world, one that anyone can use if they study enough.  Hermione’s only a tad gleeful thinking about the uproar that would cause amongst the Purebloods back in her old world.  Cáelfind just gives her a rather knowing smile the one time she brings it up.  She then proceeds to give Jane personal lessons on how to wield this new magic after Jane mentions missing her magic like a limb.  It makes for a busy two years, learning magic and trying to find that damn Einstein Bridge again, but Jane wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now they’ve been in Norway for two days, and while Jane is excited to have a chance to continue her research in this observatory, she’s completely fed up with the fact that they’ve had absolutely no news.  None.  Nada.  Zilch.  It doesn’t help that there’s no cell service, and they rather tellingly haven’t been given the wifi password.

So she sets Darcy loose.

Never let it be said that Jane doesn’t know how to use what she has at her disposal to the best of her abilities.

Darcy is an absolute wiz with computers.  Granted, not all of her skills are technically legal, but there’s precious little Jane won’t do or condone to make sure she’s there when her Lady General arrives.  And the constant low grade buzzing under her skin tells her that it’s going to be soon .  So Jane wants to know why exactly SHIELD shuffled them off to the other side of the planet so quickly, and she wants to know it now.

It’s late in the evening Norway time, but Jane’s body still somewhat thinks it's late morning by the time Darcy manages to break through the—her words—weird ass encryption, and of course that’s when some of the local scientists finally come over to see what it is they’re poking at—Hermione despairs over their lack of competent security warnings while Jane’s just glad Darcy’s managed this at all.

“You—You’re not supposed to have access to that!” one of them sputters as Darcy proceeds to bring up live video footage from New York City.

“Why?  Because of your little firewall and security protocols?  How lame do you think we are?” Darcy snarks, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin while Jane leans forward because New York City is being attacked by aliens.  It’s being attacked by aliens—not Asgardian/human looking aliens, actual foreign looking aliens—coming through a hole in the sky, and Toni freaking Stark is flying around in her suit taking down aliens along with Thor.

It hits like a punch to the gut.

Thor’s back.

Thor’s back and SHIELD shipped her off to the other bloody side of the planet!

Granted, she’s not entirely sure how she feels about him now.

Two years of no contact of any sort when she now has proof that he could’ve come is slightly damning, but she’s also a different person.  Two lifetimes worth of memories tends to do that to a person.  Regardless of the talk that she and Thor need to have, she’s definitely not going to sit around and wait for him again for another two years.

Darcy, the absolutely wonderful and awesome woman that she is, has slid down to the next computer so that Jane can continue to watch the fighting over in New York while she starts looking up flights back to the States.  Because like hell is Jane going to let Thor get away from her again without at least attempting to talk face to face.  Of course, if Darcy can’t find them prompt enough flights, there’s always the sling ring Cáelfind gave Jane over a year ago.

It’s just their luck that all the scientists here are male and don’t quite know what to do with her or Darcy.  Well, they kind of know what to do with her, they just talk to her like a fellow scientist when they’re working together.  But the instant she and Darcy start talking about anything other than science, they make themselves scarce.  So if getting a plane back to the States quickly enough doesn’t work out, she can just make a big fuss about something and then loudly go back to her room to sulk.  Since it’s nearing nine o’clock Norway time, she figures that’ll give her an ample amount of time to portal over to New York, chew Thor out if necessary, and then get back with them none the wiser.  She’s gone without sleep for longer stretches of time and she figures the scientists will just attribute her grouchiness to something else.

“Holy shit,” Jane whispers, eyes widening in horror at the absolute audacity of what she’s seeing.  Something coils deep in her chest, almost in anticipation, but she pushes the sensation aside as just nerves.

“What?” Darcy immediately demands, temporarily abandoning her flight search to turn her attention to the screen with the live video. “What happened?”

“Someone shot a nuke at New York and Toni Stark just flew it through the portal the aliens are coming through,” Jane breathes.

“WHAT?!” Darcy yelps.  The two of them stare riveted at the screen, with Jane hoping and praying that Stark comes back through the portal the news is focusing on.  It starts closing with no sign of Stark.  Then there’s a distant flash of red and gold falling, and Jane abruptly has to sit down.  A sort of knowing hits her full on, the same sort of knowing that hit her the first time she saw Cáelfind and knew she was Luna.

That’s Eve falling.  Her Lady General is Toni Stark, who just flew a nuke into space in a flying metal suit and Jane doesn’t even know if it’s space worthy.

Merlin and Morgana preserve her, of course Eve just has to go and give Jane a conniption fit within seconds of arriving.

She watches as Eve—as Toni—falls further and further, showing no signs of righting herself. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” Jane mutters desperately.  She nearly falls over as she slumps with relief when a big green man launches himself into the air and catches Toni, suit and all, before she gets too close to the ground.  By that point the cameras lose track of them, but Jane’s seen enough. “Darcy, I’m packing,” she states plainly.

Her friend only blinks once in shock before nodding decisively. “You got it, Boss Lady.”

Jane doesn’t bother sticking around to offer any kind of explanation.  She got dumped all the way out here without one as far as she’s aware, so they can live without one about how she leaves.  Thankfully, she doesn’t have all that much to pack away, and neither does Darcy, so she manages both of their suitcases with relative ease.  A quick check through the attached bathroom shows that she didn’t forget anything in there either.

Darcy sticks her head into the room. “The furthest I can get us tonight is Bodø if we hustle, but if we get our asses up early tomorrow I can have us back in New York by 2:00 pm at the latest.”

Jane exhales shakily. “I don’t want to stay here tonight,” she says. “I don’t care if it’s in a hotel or another city, I can’t stay here tonight.” She motions to the sling ring she has discreetly cradled in one hand, and understanding spreads across Darcy’s face.

Her friend grins. “I am so on that.  Give me five and then I’ll get us a taxi as needed.” Then she’s gone and Jane is by herself again.

She sits down on her bed beside the two packed suitcases and puts her head in her hands.  She’s been waiting for this moment for almost two years now, and now that it’s finally arrived, she doesn’t know what to do with herself.  Eve’s here, but she’s expecting to be alone.  So she’ll definitely welcome the fact that she’ll have people who remember their old world, but she’s also going to be pissed because she’s definitely going to think that they were forced to leave when the truth of the matter is that they were forced just as much as she was.  No one officially made them go, but it was better to leave than attempt to stay.

“Boss Lady, we’ve got a taxi idling outside to take us to a hotel for the night,” Darcy announces. “Get your coat on and we’ll blow this popsicle stand.”

Jane takes a steadying breath, puts on her coat as suggested because it’s cold out, then grabs both suitcases and marches for the door.  Her friend commandeers hers from Jane before proceeding to lead her out of the observatory.  They get watched by the scientists as they leave, but no one tries to stop them.  There is indeed a taxi waiting for them outside despite the kind of late hour—not that Jane doubted Darcy for a minute—and they shove their suitcases into the trunk before clambering into the warm interior.  Darcy rattles off the hotel address, given that Jane doesn’t have a clue where they’re going.  It’s surprisingly not that far away, but then again Tromsø is rather small.  They check in, head up to the room Darcy booked for them, and throw both their suitcases onto the beds.

“Okay, you need me to run interference here?” Darcy asks as Jane slides the sling ring onto its proper place on her hand.

“No, you’re coming with me,” Jane says. “They aren’t expecting us to come out until early in the morning here, so that should give us seven hours or until about 10:00 pm over in New York to get back.” Then before she can talk herself out of it—because she would manage to find a way to do that—she concentrates on the closest point to Stark Tower in Manhattan that she can visualize.  Then she spins her arm and a portal blooms to life.  Jane’s honestly a little surprised by the fact that they can even walk through it, given everything they were seeing on the news, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Unsurprisingly, there are sirens blaring from every direction, and lots of dust in the air.  Jane’s managed to land them pretty close to Stark Tower, and she nearly curses under her breath when she sees Toni entering the lobby with Thor and a few other people they saw on the news fighting against the aliens.  She doesn’t bother trying to yell, mostly because this isn’t a reunion she wants to have in the middle of the street.  Instead she makes for Stark Tower as quickly as she can manage without tripping over her own feet.  Because that has unfortunately happened before over a flat surface, and Darcy still hasn’t let it go.

They get a few odd looks as they enter the lobby, but Jane—Hermione—has experience acting like she’s supposed to be wherever it is she is, even if she’s really not supposed to be there.  So she keeps her head up and her back straight as she makes for the elevator.  It’s only once they’ve reached the elevator that she realizes that she has no freaking clue which floor to go to.

“I did not think this through,” she mutters to herself, staring at the elevator doors with a furrowed brow, wondering what exactly she should do.  She can’t portal up there because she’s never been up there, and she has absolutely no desire whatsoever to walk up however many flights of steps it’d take to get to the top.

“Doctor Jane Foster, I presume, and Miss Darcy Lewis?” a male voice with a British accent of all things suddenly asks, nearly causing Jane to jump out of her skin as there’s not anybody nearby to be talking to them.  Behind her, Darcy squeaks her surprise.

“Who wants to know?” she responds warily, eyes darting around to try and find the source of the voice.

“I am JARVIS, an AI of Ms Stark’s creation.  If you would like, I can ask Ma’am for permission to allow you access to the penthouse so you may see Mr Odinson.”

“That would actually be fantastic,” Jane says, again not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth.  And she does want to see Thor, but Toni— Eve —takes precedence right now.  He’ll just have to wait his turn getting yelled at.

There’s a soft ding and the elevator door slides open in front of her. “They’re expecting you upstairs,” JARVIS announces.

Jane hustles into it, unable to keep from gawking at the sleek sophistication and the absolutely smooth ride once the door shut behind them.  She can barely feel them moving, and really the only reason she knows that they are beyond the numbers above the door changing is the fact that her ears pop.

There’s another soft ding and the doors slide open.  The group of people that Jane had seen Toni with earlier are all still gathered, but Jane obviously only truly has eyes for one of them.  She starts forward about the same time that Thor does, so she holds up a hand to stop him. “I’ll deal with you later, Thor.”  Thankfully, the man does stop, a look of confused befuddlement on his face that on any other occasion she would’ve possibly cooed over.

Toni Stark is staring at her with barely disguised awe and horror. “Mi?” the woman whispers hoarsely, and it takes every ounce of self-control Jane has to keep from stumbling at the sound.

Jane instead just continues forward until she can throw her arms around Toni’s shoulders.  Around her General’s shoulders. “You utter idiot,” she chokes out, pressing the side of her face to Toni’s in a vain attempt to stem the tears building up in her eyes. “You bloody arse, don’t ever do something like that ever again.”

Toni snorts out a watery chuckle. “What, fly a nuke through a portal into an unknown stretch of space to blow up an alien command ship?  Sure, I’ll make sure to pencil that right in with the rest of my demands of the universe.”

Jane barely manages to catch herself before she swats at her friend, because said friend is in a metal suit that will likely just hurt Jane’s hand and do nothing to Toni. “You and I are going to have a long discussion about scaring the ever loving shit out of me, understand?”

“I expected nothing less from you, my friend.” Toni pulls back and Jane only just stops from protesting the loss of contact.  Understandably, she can see the multitude of questions swimming around in Toni’s head, but her Lady General knows that now isn’t the time to ask them.  So instead she inquires, “Wanna meet my new friends?  I hear tell you’ve already met some of them.”

Chapter 3

May 4, 2012

“Yeah, I kinda know one of them.” Jane looks towards Thor with a half smile.  She sort of feels like she’s floating now.  She has her Lady General back in her sights.  That’s all she’s really wanted for the last two years in both worlds.  She’s still a bit mad at Thor, but having Toni nearby helps.  For Toni, she’s willing to endure just about anything.  Thor in turn smiles hopefully back at her.  This time when he approaches, Jane doesn’t stop him and he lifts her hand to his lips for a kiss.  The wide-eyed innocent little girl that lives on inside her heart wants to swoon at the gesture, and adult her is kind of on board with that too.  However, she’s not about to give Toni or Darcy reason to tease her anymore than they’re already going to.  She semi-glances over her shoulder at the two of them, unfortunately standing side by side and both sporting alarmingly similar grins. “Not a word,” she hisses.

“Hey, I promised Cáelfind all the deets concerning you,” Darcy states matter-of-fact. “I know you try, but we can both admit that I’m much better about regular check-ins than you are.  You get sucked down your science mumbo-jumbo rabbit hole all the time.”

Jane huffs, but it’s true. “Speaking of,” she focuses on Toni. “Mor sends her love and she’ll try to pop in when you’re both free, but the time zones might make that difficult so it could be a few days.”

Toni’s jaw drops. “Mor what ?” she all but demands, voice squeaking slightly as disbelief splashes across her face. “Since when?”

Jane can’t help but laugh, even though she understands. “I would’ve brought everyone, but Mor’s the only one I could get a hold of on such short notice.  They’ll come when they’re available.”

“My Jane, you know Lady Stark?” Thor asks almost hesitantly as Toni is reduced to just opening and closing her mouth with nothing coming out.

Feeling a little mischievous, Jane says, “Well, we only just recently met, but it really feels like I’ve known her my whole life.”

This makes Toni snort. “Jane, you have a gift for understatements.  And we’re sitting down so I can grill you about the others and what they’ve been up to, so don’t even think about running away anytime soon.  But I digress.  I’ve got a whole canoodle of people for you to meet that I played nice with, not that Pep or Rhodey Bear will believe me when I say so.  You obviously know Point Break here.  Behind him we’ve got our archer of all things, Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye.”

Jane squints at the man holding a bow and one lone arrow, with an empty quiver on his back. “You were in New Mexico, weren’t you?” she all but demands.

The man inclines his head. “I’m honestly surprised you remember me, Doc.  We didn’t really interact.”

Given the reason that Jane remembers is because she got Hermione’s photographic memory as a result of the ritual and her former Occumology training, she’s not exactly in a position to explain herself.  Another part of the last two years, on top of magic lessons and researching the Einstein Bridge, has been reorganizing all of her memories as Jane.  It’s also been interesting to see the little differences in history between their worlds, some else she has to keep straight.  But Hermione has never been anything but a perfectionist and Jane, while never to Hermione’s levels, also demands a sort of perfection from herself, so it’s been an invigorating task.  Something to keep her going when her research stalls and doesn’t seem to want to go anywhere.

Jane ends up just shrugging a shoulder. “I’ve got a good memory.”

“The dangerous and sexy red-head is Natasha Romanoff, aka Black Widow,” Toni continues. “She is a real, actual assassin, so be warned.  She’s got ninja moves.”

There’s a slight hint of bitterness in Toni’s voice, so Jane resolves to watch this Natasha Romanoff for the foreseeable future until such time she proves herself to be a friend.  For now she just nods her head, getting an equally bland nod in return.

“The decked out man in red, white, and blue like an American flag is Steven Rogers, aka the legit Captain America.”

Jane twists to give her friend an incredulous look. “Didn’t he go down with his plane?” She turns back around to point a finger at this supposed Captain America. “Didn’t you go down with your plane?” She was thorough on the differences between their World War II’s, damn it!  Captain America is an actual person here instead of just a made up person in a comic and he went down with his plane seven months before the end of the war.

“Capsicle froze, but they fished him out and defrosted him,” Toni drawls.

“Your luck, I swear,” Jane mutters.

“Excuse me!” Toni protests even as Jane accepts the offered hand and ‘Ma’am’ from Rogers. “I had absolutely nothing to do with him ending up in the Arctic or getting fished out!”

“Still blaming you!” Jane sing-songs back.

“Rude!  And last but certainly not least, jolly green back there is Hulk, and when he’s not jolly green and big, he goes by Doctor Bruce Banner.  Personally, I’m rather fond of both.  Also, Hulk gave me a Loki-sized dent in my floor that I may or may not preserve for posterity's sake.  We’ll have to see what Pep’s opinion on that is.”

Jane peers around everyone she’s been introduced to and focuses on the man still sitting on the steps who is wearing armor similar to Thor’s, though his coloring is green and gold instead of red and silver.  She did her research on Norse mythology after Thor crash landed into her life briefly though it was, if only to give herself some basis to work off of.  The one thing that’s nagging her right now is that in all of the stories she read, Loki was not an ӕsir, he was a jötuun.  Jötnar are beings of ice and cold, and everything she sees from him right now speaks to extreme heat exhaustion.  Granted, some of the damage she sees is probably from the battle and apparently making a dent in Toni’s floor, but Hermione went through a war.  She went through ten years of wartime where the Death Eaters went through just about every means imaginable to get information out of anyone.  She’s seen the aftermath of heat exhaustion.

“Toni,” Jane says sharply, letting go of Rogers’ hand and marching towards the sitting god while ignoring Thor’s protests.

“Thoughts?” her friend returns, tone that deceptively mild one she takes when she’s already made her own observations but wants to hear what you just discovered.

“Heat exhaustion,” she states bluntly, a little shocked by the surprise and awe that flashes briefly across Loki’s face at her words.  But then she remembers that for all that Thor clearly stated that he loves his brother despite their differences, he generally needs something to quite literally smack him across the face before he sees it.  Sometimes multiple times.  So it’s not actually surprising that Thor didn’t notice because it’s still mostly hidden away. “You?”

“Itsy bitsy, did you notice anything different about Barton when you went after him on the Helicarrier?” Toni asks.

Jane doesn’t take her eyes off the god in front of her as the Black Widow says, “His hazel eyes were an unnatural shade of blue.”

“Tesseract blue, by any chance?”

Loki’s eyes are currently a stunning shade of emerald green that Hermione’s used to seeing from her dearest and oldest friend, but Jane’s willing to bet everything she has to her name that Toni has video evidence of Loki’s eyes being the same unnatural shade of blue that Barton’s apparently were.

“Stark, what exactly are you trying to get at?” Rogers butts in.

“Tell me, Loki of Asgard, who were you with that tortured you with heat until they could gain a foothold in your mind?” Toni demands. “Who sent you to conquer our little planet that you honestly did a piss poor job of doing?”

Loki’s lips pull back in a sneer. “You would not have heard of them, nor would you believe me if you had.”

Toni stomps over so she’s standing shoulder to shoulder with Jane, and it takes all of Jane’s self-restraint to keep from shoving her friend back behind her and dropping Loki through a portal far away from her Lady General. “Look at me, you obnoxious demi-god,” she barks. “Your brother saw it as soon as I fell back through that stupid portal you had your minions open up above my bloody tower after I blew up the big ass ship waiting on the other side with the nuke, and I’m fairly certain you’re supposed to be cleverer than him, Mr So-Called God of Mischief, solook at me.”

Jane doesn’t know what exactly Toni wants him to look for, but he apparently finds it because he inhales sharply and what little color there is on his face drains away. “You’ve been touched by Death,” he whispers.

Fucking hell, the Deathly Hallows followed her Lady General into this new world somehow.  That’s just fantastic.  She’d hoped that the ritual Evelyn had performed would’ve burned the blasted things of their power, but apparently not.  Her next rant to Cáelfind is going to be an epic in proportion to her usual ones.

“Yeah, I have been.  Death and I are old buddies by this point, cause people just seem to love trying to kill me.  So I can guarantee you that if you tell me right now who tortured you and then sent you here, I will believe you.”

“Stark, you can’t—”

“Rogers, shut it,” Toni snaps. “Or do you not want to know why exactly we’re being attacked by extraterrestrials when before they’ve left us well enough alone?”

“That’s not really your purview,” the Widow apparently feels the need to point out, and Jane bristles at the contempt and judgment hidden in the depths of her voice.

“It became my purview when Reindeer Games here used my tower as his invasion starting point.  You should be well aware that I don’t like people touching my stuff, Romanoff,” Toni snarks back over her shoulder before facing Loki again and pointing a finger at him. “A name.  For the love of all that you hold sacred, give me a fucking name to work with.”

Loki stares at her defiantly in silence for what feels like a good thirty seconds before he murmurs, “The Mad Titan.”

“Brother, the Mad Titan is just a myth,” Thor protests.

“And until about two years ago, I thought your people were myths,” Toni volleys back, turning hard eyes to the God of Thunder. “Every myth ever told has a grain of truth nestled in it somewhere, you just have to know where to look to find it.” She yet again turns back to Loki.  The expression on her face tells Jane that she’s about to do something that’ll probably end up saving their asses further down the road, but right now is going to piss off all the surrounding people. “How likely is it that this Mad Titan being is going to come after us again?”

Loki huffs. “Likely, but you will have some time.  This planet is considered primitive by most, so I doubt he will hurry much.”

Oh, Jane sees where her Lady General is going now.  And she’s right in thinking that most everyone around them won’t like what she’s about to offer one bit.  So despite the gathered people who will definitely not understand the full magnitude of what she’s about to do, Jane pivots on her heel and drops down onto one knee while facing her Lady General, palms facing upwards and golden mandalas flaring into life above them. “I am Jane Kelley Foster, daughter of Elaine, daughter of Tracy.  I offer myself freely to you, Antoinette Evelyn Stark, and name you as my Lady.” Toni sucks in a sharp breath the moment the first words leave Jane's mouth.  There was a very similar oath back in their old world that all seven of them had sworn to Evelyn near the beginning of the war.  The book with this particular oath in it was one of the first books that Cáelfind gave Jane after she’d just mastered the magic of this world, and it is a privilege to be able to give it once again—she also knows that but for the position Cáelfind holds, she would give it again as well. “My body be yours.  My soul be yours.  Take them and do with them what you will.  I cast aside all that I was.  Instead, I will be your shield to defend you from your enemies.  I will be your spear to strike down those who oppose you.  I will be your voice to rise above those who dare to defy you.  I will love all that you love and shun all that you shun.  I will never by word or deed, by free or forced will, do anything hateful to you.  Thus I bind myself to you.  Let all gathered bear witness to my pledge.  Let me be struck down should I falter.  Let it be known that I am yours.”

“J, left hand,” Toni chokes out, and the metal still surrounding her left hand hits the floor by her feet with a dull thud.  She slides her fingertips across Jane’s offered palms until she can wrap shaking fingers around Jane’s wrists. “It is right and just that they who offer all of themselves to us might be protected in return.” Her voice trembles almost as much as her fingers are. “Let it be known by all that we hear and accept the freely offered pledge of Jane Kelley Foster.  We will be her shield to defend her from her enemies.  We will be her spear to strike down those who oppose her.  We will be her voice to rise above those who dare to defy her.  We will return loyalty with loyalty and bind her to ourselves as she deserves.”

There’s a flash of light as Jane’s mandalas disappear, and then a warmth blooms in the center of her chest as the oath settles.  She breathes out slowly, reveling in the feeling of being connected once again to her Lady General.  She can feel the weight of every single pair of eyes now fixated on her, but she only cares about one.  Jane ignores the sudden calamity of voices demanding her attention as she gets back up onto her feet and faces the reason she swore such an oath before so many not in the know.

Loki Odinson is now watching her warily which is understandable because he might be the only one in the room besides the person Jane just swore an oath to who truly understands the depth of what she just did. “Why?” he asks.

Jane lifts her chin a fraction of an inch and offers him her hands, only this time her palms face the floor. “Loki Odinson of Asgard, on behalf of my Lady, I offer you Sanctuary on our planet under the protection of House Stark so long as you work with us to prepare for the coming of the Mad Titan.” Her golden mandalas spark back into being. “Do you accept?”

He cocks an eyebrow at her, face very carefully blank. “You realize Odin will most certainly take exception to this?”

Jane lets her lips spread into the smirk that once sent Death Eaters running towards the end of the war, enjoying how Loki’s eyes widen ever so slightly at the sight. “He’s welcome to lodge a complaint with Cáelfind if he wants.”

She gets an answering grin in response. “Oh, you’re a clever girl, aren’t you, Jane Foster?  Having Cáelfind as your teacher.”

“Do you accept?” she repeats, mandalas still burning bright between them.

There’s a heartbeat where she worries he won’t, that he’ll throw whatever brilliant scheme her Lady General came up with in the last minute out the window.  But then he pushes himself onto his feet, winching barely enough to see, and takes her offered hands. “I, Loki Odinson of Asgard, accept the offer of Sanctuary from Jane Kelley Foster on behalf of House Stark.”

There’s another flash of light as the bond of the offering settles between the two of them.

“Well, that’s one way to solve that,” Toni comments rather blandly in the ensuing silence.

“Stark—” Romanoff starts.

Toni interrupts her. “Thor, judging by the stunned look on your face, you at least have some idea of what Jane here just did.  Care to explain for the group since I doubt any of them would believe a word out of your brother’s mouth right now?”

“And you suddenly do?” Barton demands. “Toni, he threw you out of a window.”

Jane abruptly turns ice cold eyes onto Loki while also noting the fact that Toni doesn’t protest Barton’s use of her first name. “Do that again, and being tossed out a high window will be the least of your worries.”

“My word that I will not violate the laws of Sanctuary unless absolutely necessary,” Loki intones, and Jane believes him.  She’s still going to watch him, because she’s not stupid.

“The oaths, Point Break,” Toni prompts again.

The God of Thunder releases a shuddering breath. “Jane swore a liege-person oath to you, naming you as her Lady.  She is now unable to betray you in any fashion or work against what you wish accomplished.  Thus I must assume that you wanted to offer my brother Sanctuary of some sort, as the bond between the two of them settled without issue, though I do not see how Jane could have known that as no such words passed between the two of you.”

Barton’s apparently not done protesting Loki staying here on Earth. “Why the hell would you want to give him of all people whatever this sanctuary nonsense is?”

“I’m not going to force you to stay in the same area as him, Clint, but he apparently has information I need,” Toni states. “All things considered, I’ll probably leave him with Jane for the time being.”

Jane wrinkles her nose at the idea, but concedes she’s probably the best Toni’s got to keep the God of Mischief in line should he decide to test said line.  Again, Cáelfind will definitely help if push comes to shove, but she’s also going to point out that Jane’s the one who got herself in this mess in the first place, so she should be the one to deal with it.

“I’ve already tased one god!” Darcy pipes up from the other side of the room. “I’ve got no issues tasing another!”

“Give me a half hour, and I’ll make that taser of yours the most dangerous non-lethal taser on the planet,” Toni offers.

Darcy’s eyes go wide. “You will?” Her voice squeaks a little bit at the end there.

“You’re Jane’s, and Jane is mine, so that makes you mine as well, and I take care of what’s mine,” Toni says. “But really, Clint, I’m still kidnapping you whether you like it or not.” She waves a hand at Romanoff when the woman opens her mouth. “Actually, all of you are welcome to stay at the Tower for the time being, if you want.  I’ve got the space up here in the penthouse, and there’s fresh food coming.  Jolly Green, I don’t have anything your size at the moment, but I’ll definitely get on rectifying that.  Think we could have Banner back for now?”

“Puny god leave Metal Lady alone,” Hulk grumbles, making Toni snort out a chuckle and Loki grimace.  But amazingly the green of his skin fades away as he shrinks in size, leaving him as a renowned scientist who'd vanished seven years ago that Jane remembers Erik mentioning a time or two.  Bruce Banner shakes his head as he clutches at the remnants of his pants.

“J, be a dear and light the way for Doctor Banner to where we keep spare clothes for my platypus,” Toni instructs. “Bruce, feel free to use any of the clothes you can find that fit.  You and Rhodey have different builds, but I think he’s got a few pairs of sweats in there somewhere that might work.”

“Doctor Banner, if you will step into the elevator, I will direct you to Colonel Rhodes’ quarters from there,” JARVIS says as the elevator doors slide open.

As if in a bit of a daze, Banner stumbles over to the elevator.  He keeps looking around like he’s not entirely sure where he is or what it is he’s supposed to be doing.  It’ll keep until later, but Jane is definitely going to thank him at some point for saving Toni from going splat on the Manhattan concrete.

“Toni, a word real quick?” Jane requests. “Darcy, watch him.” She points at Loki despite the mildly affronted expressions from everyone else in the room.

Darcy gives her a mock salute and a knowing grin. “You’ve got it, Boss Lady.” She pulls out the taser she’s religiously carried everywhere since she downed Thor with it two years ago. “I used this on your brother, Frosty, so don’t doubt for one second that I won’t hesitate to use it on you if needed.”

Her new found responsibility temporarily in hands she trusts, Jane follows Toni across the room so they’re tucked away from everyone but can still see them.

“What do you need?” Toni immediately asks in a hushed tone.

“We didn’t actually legally re-enter the country,” Jane admits. “We’re supposed to still be over in Norway right now.  We’re good until about 9:30-10:00 pm tonight here in Manhattan, but then Darcy and I have to go to catch our flights back over here from Tromsø.  I think the flights Darcy found will get us back into New York around 2:00 pm tomorrow afternoon.  If you could delay Thor from leaving until around then, I’d be really happy.”

“Or I could send out a Stark jet to pick the two of you up so you don’t have to worry about missing a connection,” Toni offers. “Although you’re going to have to explain to me later how you even managed all this in the first place.”

Jane lets a cheeky smile spread across her lips. “Well, the short answer is magic, but I’ll give you a better answer later.”

Toni gives her a scowl that Jane can tell is half playful and half actually a little pissed off at the idea of magic. “The scientist in me is horrified every time someone mentions magic,” she mutters. “So, Stark jet?  Yes or no?”

“Maybe pick us up in Oslø instead of Tromsø?  The airport in Tromsø isn’t really all that big.”

That earns her a flat look. “Mi, I’m Toni Stark.  If I tell the Norwegian government that I’m sending a jet up to Oslø or even bloody Tromsø to pick up Thor Odinson’s love interest, they will fall all over themselves to give me permission to do so, especially after today.”

“It’s obscene that your fame’s even worse here,” Jane grumbles, deciding to ignore the little bit about her being Thor Odinson’s love interest for the time being.  They had all of three days together originally, she’s going to need more than that before she’s willing to put any kind of label on what’s between them.

“Well, that’s a definite plus of this life,” Toni says, smile bright but voice brittle. “Howard at least made damn sure I knew how to handle all the attention the Stark name brings with it.”

It’s a good thing that Howard Stark has been dead twenty plus years, because Jane would’ve shouted herself hoarse at him, and possibly not resisted the urge to drop him through a portal for who knows how long.  No one gets away with hurting her Lady General, not even family—especially family, as Hermione and the others had paid the Dursleys a visit after Astoria was of age.  They’d all expressed their displeasure at Evelyn’s treatment by their hands, each in their own unique way, and left those wretched people with more nightmares about magical people than they’d thought possible with no way to tell anyone what had been done to them.

“Then yes,” Jane concedes softly, “a jet pick up from whichever city would be greatly appreciated.  Just let Darcy know which ones so she can cancel the flights.”

Toni waves a hand through the air. “I’ll deal with all that.  Last minute international flights aren’t cheap.”

Jane fixes her long time friend with a gimlet glare. “Do not just drop a bunch of money in our bank accounts, Stark.” She barely manages to catch herself before she spits out Potter . “Darcy will spontaneously combust, and I don’t have time to train up another minion to my specifications.  She’s the best out there.”

“Sure, take away all my fun,” Toni pouts before turning her attention to the other side of the room. “Okay, boys and girls, we’ve got a glow stick of destiny, a glow cube of doom, a mind whammied scientist out on the deck, and a whole shit ton of chaos outside.  Who wants to deal with what?”

Colonel James Rhodes, known as Rhodey to many people thanks to Toni Stark and her habit of nicknames, descends to his best friend’s tower that looks mildly beat up compared to the rest of the city that he saw during his fly by.  He’s a little pissed off that Toni didn’t take his subtle hints to take a freaking break when they talked before she directed him towards her tower, but then again Toni’s never really done subtle well.  And with both Pepper and Happy having been sent away by Toni before this whole nonsense with invading aliens, Rhodey’s without his usual helpmates to get his stupid best friend to actually look after herself.  He’ll just have to do his usual monitoring via JARVIS and be ready to act when the crash and burn hits, because it will.  Even without asking JARVIS he knows she’s gone over two days without sleep.  An unfortunate perk of having known the idiot for nearly thirty years now.

While allowing JARVIS to take off his War Machine suit, Rhodey directs his attention into the penthouse where Toni said three people would be waiting for him.  His eyes lock onto the woman in the kitchen scrubbing furiously away at something in the sink, although he acknowledges the location of the other two people—a man and a woman—because the woman in the kitchen is Doctor Jane Foster and Toni makes it a habit to know at least something about her fellow female scientists.  She also makes a point to rant or rave about them to him, Pepper, and Happy depending on whether or not she thinks they’re doing something either fantastic or idiotic.  As he’s walking into the penthouse proper off the balcony, Foster briefly looks up at him before her attention snaps away in the way that means she has an earpiece in and someone just said something to her.

“Put me through,” she all but growls, turning to grab a boiling electric kettle off the counter behind her that Rhodey doesn’t recall Toni ever owning and filling up a waiting teapot of all things with said boiling water.  His friend is a coffee nut, and hasn’t drank tea since Edwin and Ana Jarvis passed shortly after her parents.  She also grabs two extra mugs from the cabinet that she adds to the line of three mugs already out. “No, nothing’s really happened since you left,” Foster continues shortly, “but my idiot friend is apparently flying around in heavy machinery after not having slept for over forty eight hours.”

Ah, she’s talking with Toni.  And just found out about one of her bad habits.  At least Rhodey knows that JARVIS is capable of flying the Iron Maiden suit if Toni ends up passing out while in it.  He doesn’t know if Foster is aware of that.

“Antoinette Evelyn Stark, you get your butt back to your tower right now,” Foster hisses, making Rhodey mildly impressed by the sheer annoyance in her voice.  Also the fact that Foster apparently feels willing to pull out the full name tactic right off the bat. “Do not make me come and get you.”

Rhodey kind of wants to see Foster follow through with that threat, because there’s something in both her tone of voice and body language that says she’d actually follow through.  Whether or not it’d do any good is another matter entirely, but more help wrangling Toni is always a good thing.

“Toni, there’s going to be things that Iron Maiden can help out with for probably months to come,” Foster states firmly, “but you will be of absolutely no help to anyone if you keep up this nonsense, and you know it.  Come back now or suffer the consequences.” She deliberately taps her earpiece, probably cutting off sputtering on Toni’s part, before turning to Rhodey who stopped just at the edge of the kitchen.  Her expression says she’s fully aware that she just chewed out his best friend right in front of him. “Hi,” she says somewhat sheepishly. “I don’t know if Toni mentioned me, but I’m Doctor Jane Foster.”

“Yeah, she’s talked about you some.  Though she never mentioned that you two actually knew each other.” Rhodey offers her his hand. “Colonel James Rhodes, but most friends of Toni’s call me Rhodey.”

Foster worries her lower lip between her teeth, but shakes his hand nonetheless. “The actual meeting only just recently happened.”

Rhodey hums low in the back of his throat.  She’s a bit of a contradiction.  She’s telling the truth about that, because Rhodey knows Toni would’ve been absolutely gleeful about having talked with Foster before today.  She’s too intrigued by the woman’s work not to’ve.  But what he’s seen in the last minute or so speaks to an understanding of his friend that usually takes years to develop.  And despite Toni wanting to talk shop with Foster about her research, that doesn’t account for Foster intimately knowing Toni’s bad habits of running herself ragged and then also feeling comfortable enough to call Toni out on them with absolutely no fear of any repercussions.  Toni’s never been quiet about the fact that she treats most orders like suggestions or just ignores them entirely.  The news has had many a field day regarding that.

“My apologies for the interruption,” JARVIS interjects, using the sound system instead of both their earpieces, “but I am pleased to announce that Ma’am is currently heading back to the tower.”

A small, self-satisfied smirk spreads across Foster’s lips, like she hadn’t expected anything less.

“If this is your doing, we’re going to get along just fine,” Rhodey comments, though he’s definitely going to make sure that Foster doesn’t try to take advantage of this particular skill of hers.  He’s played the role of over-protective asshole best friend to scare off those sorts before and he’s more than willing to do it again. “Pep might even proclaim her platonic undying love for you.  Getting Toni to listen to us about needing to slow down after a while usually just goes in one ear and out the other more often than not.”

Foster’s smirk changes into an understanding smile. “I won’t make any promises, but you’ll probably have better luck in getting her to listen in this area at least going forward.”

Now that is interesting, because she honestly sounds like she means it.

“If only you’d take your own freaking advice, that’d be fantastic,” the other woman suddenly pipes up from the other side of the room.

“Hey!” Foster immediately protests, pointing a finger in that direction. “At least when I’m running around not having slept for two days I’m not flying in heavy machinery!”

This earns her a scoff. “Boss Lady, you’ve been trying to build a big old Rainbow Bridge these past two years to reconnect Earth and Asgard.  I’m honestly surprised you haven’t torn a hole in the fabric of reality on any of your Science! benders so far.”

Rhodey immediately begins to despair over having someone with a similar work ethic around Toni.  And she seemed so nice and reasonable a few seconds ago.  It’s only through long practice with Toni that keeps him from sighing heavily.  Although he is slightly amused by the emphasis the woman puts on the word science.

Foster sighs for the both of them, even though she isn’t aware of that fact. “I’d say you’ve been watching too much sci-fi, but I’ve hit the God of Thunder with my truck, twice even, and you’ve tased him.  Not to mention the freaking alien invasion that just happened.”

“Don’t forget Cáelfind and her peeps!” the woman points out cheerfully.

This for some reason makes Foster groan, slumping over the counter she’s standing by to bang her head against the marble. “Cáelfind is going to give Toni conniption fits simply for existing as she is.”

“Who’s gonna give me conniption fits?”

It’s only by virtue of the fact that Toni does this all the damn time that Rhodey keeps from jumping out of his skin when his best friend suddenly appears at his elbow.  Instead he settles for an exasperated look that she doesn’t even see because she’s focusing solely on her fellow scientist.

Foster raises her head from the counter and levels a truly impressive glare Toni’s way. “You sit your ass down next to Darcy right now, Stark.  You’re not to worry about conniption fits of any sort for at least twenty four hours.”

Surprisingly, of all things, Toni just huffs and makes her way over to the couch.  She pauses, cocking a hip and pointing a finger at the man on the couch. “Janie, why is Boot in my tower?”

“I thought he deserved the chance to display the cunningness he always claimed to have at least once,” Foster airily announces, causing a look of absolute affront to flash across the man’s face and Toni to nearly bend over as she bursts out laughing. “ Couch, Stark.”

Toni collects herself somewhat before sprawling on the couch next to the woman, who Rhodey assumes is Darcy—and now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers Toni mentioning that Doctor Foster had an assistant that Toni seemed to adore nearly as much as Doctor Foster. “Happy now, bossy pants?”

“Ecstatic,” Foster returns flatly, turning back to the counter to start pouring tea into the lined up mugs.

“What magical nonsense did you use on my friend and can you teach it to me?” Rhodey demands, because Toni actually looks like she’s relaxing on the couch even though she’s still grinning like a loonatic. “She never gives in this easily to any of us.” He doesn’t understand why this makes Foster drop all her weight against the counter again and start muttering under her breath, Darcy to snort before cackling madly, and Toni to pull an absolutely disgusted face while crossing her arms.

“Freaking stupid magic,” his best friend grumbles.

“You just fought aliens from outer space with an assassin, an archer, Captain freaking America, a scientist that turns into a big green guy and the actual Norse God of Thunder,” Foster declares, making her way over with two filled mugs, one that she gives to Darcy and the other that she presses into Toni’s hand, obviously expecting Toni to just take it like a normal person. “The existence of actual magic shouldn’t be the tipping point for you.”

The fact that Toni doesn’t protest being handed her mug is very telling.  Rhodey knows that he, Pepper, and Happy are the only three people up until now who can do that since Afghanistan, and it’s been a hard earned thing these past three years.  Foster heads back to the kitchen, completely missing the way Toni stares at her mug of tea like it’s the most precious thing in the world.  Darcy doesn’t, but just watches as Toni takes an almost hesitant looking sip, only to immediately sniffle loudly and blink rapidly.

“Janie, I think you broke her,” Darcy announces.

“Shut up,” Toni protests despite sniffling yet again, “no she didn’t.”

“You’re crying over tea, Stark, and it’s not even spilled.”

“Toni?” Foster puts down the three other mugs she’d just picked up, looking like she wants to go over and wrap Toni up in a big fat blanket and cuddle her within an inch of her life.  Rhodey unfortunately knows that feeling all too well.

“I haven’t had tea this good in years,” Toni says by way of explanation, voice hitching from the emotions Rhodey can just see swirling around inside of her.

So he grabs one of the remaining mugs from Foster before making his way over to the couch and dropping down on the free side of his best friend.  She instantly leans most of her weight against him.  Knowing she won’t want this emotional display discussed anymore than it already has been, he just nudges her with his shoulder before taking a sip of the tea himself.  His eyebrows immediately shoot up before holy shit, this is good tea.

“Jane has this magical ability to make tea perfectly for anybody she wants to,” Darcy says, taking an appreciative sip of her own tea while Foster brings over the remaining two mugs, one that she hands to the man Rhodey’s 75% sure isn’t actually called Boot who gingerly takes it like he expects it to explode or something.

“You always use that power for good?” Rhodey asks, looking at Foster.

A corner of her lips twitches. “Most of the time.”

Toni nearly snorts tea, slumping entirely against Rhodey’s side as she starts giggling uncontrollably.  Rhodey wraps an arm around her shaking shoulders, glad that even after the shitshow of a day that his best friend has had that she can still laugh like this.  Foster appears just as pleased as she had earlier when JARVIS had announced that Toni was coming back to the tower, although now there’s no smugness in her expression.  Just a similar kind of happiness at seeing your best friend happy that Rhodey can feel settling in his chest.

After about a minute of just letting Toni giggle, Foster picks up a Stark Pad and starts giving what vaguely resembles a postops report clearly directed Toni’s way, and what’s more, with every word that Foster says the tension in Toni’s shoulders slowly disappears until the point where his friend’s head drops unexpectedly onto his shoulder, and Rhodey realizes that she’s asleep .  Foster realizes this too and deftly plucks Toni’s mostly empty mug of tea out of limp fingers, not at all concerned about waking Toni back up.

“If you want to start helping Darcy with relief logistics, I’ll switch with you and make sure Toni actually sleeps some,” Foster offers, voice soft.  Her eyes slide briefly over to Darcy who isn’t even attempting to look like she’s not listening to their conversation. “Darcy will be ecstatic to hear that I plan to just sit and possibly nap as well.”

“Thank Thor,” Darcy mutters, gathering up the Stark Pads she has scattered in front of her and moving to the couch that Foster just came from. “Come over here, soldier boy, and I’ll put you to work.  I’m not about to look a gift horse of Jane taking a break in the mouth, and something tells me it’s the same with Stark.”

“I resent that,” Foster grumbles, skillfully maneuvering Toni off of Rhodey’s shoulder and shuffling her on the couch so Rhodey’s friend is lying down with her head in Foster’s lap.  Miraculously, Toni stays fast asleep the entire time.  Foster, in turn, props her feet up on the coffee table and after positioning a pillow behind her own head, leans back and closes her eyes.

Rhodey watches as the scientist’s breathing almost immediately evens out with the kind of efficiency he’s used to seeing when he’s in theater overseas.  It’s a skill he expects from soldiers, but not from scientists.  Especially scientists, because if it’d been one he’d have already done his damnedest to install such a skill into Toni.

Not-Boot is staring hard at the now two sleeping scientists with a rather blank look on his face. “Foster trusts you this much?” he finally all but demands, his gaze cutting over to Darcy just when Rhodey is getting ready to ask what his deal is.

“Nope,” Darcy replies cheerfully, not sounding hurt in the slightest by her own admission, “but she trusts her ability to drop-kick any of us off the planet if we make ourselves a threat to Stark.”

Rhodey employs the skill of keeping a straight face he learned because of Toni and her antics, since last he checked Foster wasn’t able to punt people off a planet.  She might’ve been looking to make an Einstein Bridge—Toni had despaired for weeks over the fact that SHIELD was the one funding Foster’s research instead of her—but Rhodey knows that the scientific community would be losing its collective mind if she’d actually managed to discover it.  So how she expects to be able to drop-kick anyone anywhere is a mystery.  Of course, just a few days ago Rhodey hadn’t really believed this whole nonsense about Norse Gods, so there’s that.  Who knows what exactly Doctor Jane Kelley Foster is capable of.

Not-Boot huffs. “I assume Cáelfind was proficient when teaching Foster?”

Darcy grins sharply now, almost on par with Toni when she’s being especially vicious. “Janie has always demanded a ridiculous level of perfection from herself in just about anything that she does.  So yeah, Frosty, Cáelfind was very proficient.”

Rhodey hums in the back of his throat while giving the report in front of him another glance over. “That going to be explained at all?  Including you,” he adds, pointing at Not-Boot with the stylist he’d extracted from the Stark Pad he’s using. “Because I don’t believe for a minute your name’s Boot and I’m more than willing to make Toni hate me for a bit if it means keeping her safe.”  He’s done it before and he’ll probably do it again since underneath all the bark and bite his best friend displays for the world there’s a heart of gold.

“Jane’s story isn’t mine to tell, but I can promise that she’d rather slit her own throat than let anything happen to Stark,” Darcy states, “and I mean that literally.  Also, she’s more than willing to start a war with freaking gods if they look at Stark wrong, so there’s that too.”

That last little bit is obviously a pointed reminder to Not-Boot, who huffs again, but Rhodey is a bit more intrigued by Darcy’s certainty about the lengths Foster is apparently willing to go for Toni.  It’s very much in line what he’s willing to do, but that’s born of nearly thirty years worth of friendship.  Toni and Foster don’t have those years.  Jane Kelly Foster is an enigma that he will get to the bottom of one way or another.

Regardless of that, because right now he’s with Darcy on taking advantage of his best friend being willing to sleep and actually sleeping, Rhodey settles in to help coordinate rebuilding the city and food, shelter, and medical assistance for the unfortunately numerous refugees in said city.  As he sinks his mind into the work, Rhodey makes sure to note when one of Toni’s people manages something truly spectacular because he knows Toni likes rewarding that kind of behavior when it’s well earned, and it’s very well earned with this current clusterfuck.  He’s also mildly impressed by just how much Darcy is getting done.  She’s obviously sticking to her strengths, but she’s also very aware of them.  She’s streamlining a very much already streamlined process, which Toni will absolutely adore.  Foster might have a fight on her hands to keep her assistant once Toni’s back up on her feet.

Rhodey isn’t sure just how long he’s been pouring over the reports, but he’s pulled out of his working headspace by a soft chime that Toni and he designed specifically for JARVIS to pull them out of the research benders they inevitably go down when they spend a decent amount of time together.  Both Darcy and Not-Boot jump slightly at the noise, and Foster’s eyes snap open for all that she doesn’t move a muscle.  Toni, thankfully, stays fast asleep.

“Pardon the interruption, but Ms Potts is about to be deposited on the roof via helicopter,” the AI announces softly. “She was very insistent about getting here.”

“Janie?” Darcy mercifully keeps her voice quiet as she poses an unspoken question to her friend.

The scientist merely hums low in the back of her throat, eyes trained on the elevator door that Pepper’s going to come through with a stillness about her that once again reminds Rhodey of his fellow soldiers in theater.  He puts down the Stark Pad in his hands as the numbers above the elevator start to descend.  When the doors soundlessly open, it’s only the sight of heels dangling from Pepper’s fingertips that keeps Rhodey from tensing at the lack of clack clack clack that usually heralds her approach.  He and Toni have on many occasions dubbed it the sound of their approaching doom.

Rhodey watches as Pepper’s gaze darts across all of them gathered as they are.  The tightness in her shoulders relaxes marginally when their eyes meet, and Rhodey understands the feeling.  It’s always easier to wrangle their stubborn friend whenever there’s more of them around.  Darcy garners nothing more than a passing acknowledgement, but Not-Boot makes Pepper’s nostrils flare and her lips tighten.  Not-Boot catches this as he’s been watching just as intently as Rhodey is, and he dips his head in deference of all things.  Pepper jerks her chin up marginally in response before finally turning her full attention to Toni, still out cold.

Pepper lowers herself down onto her knees, heedless of her skirt bunching up, and reaches out a trembling hand to lightly touch Toni’s shoulder as if she’s afraid Toni will disappear. “I ought to wring her bloody neck,” Pepper whispers hoarsely, voice slipping into a posh British accent that Rhodey is used to hearing from JARVIS and no one else these days.

“That never stops her for long,” Foster says softly, a wealth of aggravation and fondness in her tone and expression, also with a British accent as opposed to the East Coast one she used when Rhodey first got here.

“You’re certainly one to talk, Dr Foster,” Pepper states primly, returning to sounding like Rhodey expects her to. “I hear tell that you’re nearly as bad as her on any given day.”

“Hardy har har,” Foster grumbles while beside him Darcy muffles her snickering behind a hand pressed to her lips. “JARVIS, how long has Toni slept?”

“Ma’am and you have slept for nearly three hours,” JARVIS informs the scientist.

Foster sighs. “That’ll have to do for now.” She puts her own hand on Toni’s shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. “Time to get up.”

The response is instantaneous.

Toni bolts upright with a gasp of breath, eyes wide and staring at something that none of them can see.

Not-Boot and Darcy jerk away at the sudden movement, Darcy more so than Not-Boot.  One of Not-Boot’s hands also lurches towards one of his boots, but he aborts the motion halfway through as though catching himself.

Rhodey just swears and bounces to his feet, cursing the coffee table between him and his best friend.  Foster is quicker only by virtue of already being at Toni’s side.  Both she and Pepper grab hold of Toni’s wrists though their holds are light, Foster half sprawled across the couch and Pepper still kneeling on the floor.

“Come back,” Foster all but orders as she wiggles to right herself, her British accent loud and heavy in her voice. “Wherever it is you’ve gone, come back.  I haven’t given you permission to go trapezing off without me yet, so get your arse back here right now.”

Toni inhales shakily as awareness returns to her eyes for all that they fill with tears as well.  She gets out a single, heartbreaking sob before she’s burying her face in her hands and leaning her whole body into Foster who accepts her with open and eager arms.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Foster repeatedly swears as Toni’s shoulders shake.  Both she and Pepper are misty-eyed as some unspoken understanding passes between the two of them.

Rhodey drops down onto the couch behind Foster, feeling put out that there isn’t anything for him to do to comfort his friend, but also thankful that Foster seems to have it covered.  Pepper glances away from Foster and Toni momentarily to meet his gaze, and he sees his helplessness and frustration reflected in her eyes.  It’s because she isn’t making any fuss over the fact that Foster is comforting Toni that really keeps Rhodey from doing anything.

“I’m sorry,” Toni gasps, voice muffled as she has her face pressed firmly against one of Foster’s shoulders, “I’m—”

“Stark, I say this with all the love in my heart, but you are such an idiot ,” Foster says, her own voice thick with unspoken emotion for all that her arms tighten around Toni’s shoulders, like she can’t bare the thought of Toni moving even an inch away for all that Toni shows no signs of wanting to move.  This, for some reason, makes both Pepper and Toni snort.

“Rude,” Toni somehow manages to haughtily sniff despite still practically burrowing into Foster’s embrace.

“You’ll get over it,” Foster throws back, this time drawing watery giggles from Rhodey’s best friend.  There are looks of almost instant relief on both Pepper and Foster’s faces, though Foster’s expression becomes serious as Toni finally draws back just enough to be able to look around at all of them.

“What is it?” Toni instantly demands when she catches sight of said expression.  There’s a sharpness in her tone that Rhodey doesn’t think he’s ever heard from her before, though.  He notices how Pepper’s shoulders stiffen at the sound as well.

“There’s no real gentle way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt,” Foster states. “Darcy knows about my situation because Mor decided the best way to get in touch again was to show up the morning after Thor left and I was a little out of sorts at the time.”

“A little?” Darcy protests with laughter in her voice. “Janie, you were even more out of whack than when you hit Thor with your truck the first time!”

“You know why I was,” Foster grumbles, looking extremely disgruntled at the reminder.  She then jerks a thumb towards Not-Boot. “I can keep him silent, because things will inevitably come up, but exactly how much do you trust Colonel Rhodes?”

“Excuse me?” It takes a lot of self control to keep most of his immediate anger and affront out of his voice, but Rhodey manages.  He knows how Toni reacts to angry accusations no thanks to Howard Stark and he always does his absolute best to never subject his best friend to it.  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t take back every single good thought he’s had about Foster because just who the hell does she think she is, questioning Toni’s trust in him?  He’s been watching out for Toni Stark for nearly thirty years and she’s only known his best friend for less than a day.

The look that Foster shoots him is ice cold, like she knows exactly what’s going through his head. “I could care less if that question upsets you, because the only opinion I care about here is Toni’s.”

“He’s one of two people besides myself that I trust with Toni’s life,” Pepper unexpectedly says.  She reaches out to lay a hand on top of Foster’s. “He bent his orders to an extreme degree and called in every favor he could to find Toni while she was held hostage in Afghanistan.  He almost ruined his career for her.” She turns her head away from Foster to meet Rhodey’s enraged gaze head on.  There’s understanding in her eyes, but also a request not to do anything.  To trust her. “He would’ve ruined his career if it came down to it.”

Damn right he would’ve.

“I’d trust him with Teddy,” Toni says softly, and though it makes absolutely no sense to Rhodey, it apparently makes perfect sense to Foster because the tension in her shoulders all but disappears.

“Then we’ll make sure he’s brought up to speed,” Foster returns, shifting so she can get to her feet, with Toni following and Pepper straightening up as well.  Rhodey does the same, peeved that Foster is still between him and his friend, especially given that he doesn’t have a fucking clue what’s going on right now. “Do I have permission to formally introduce you for the time being?”

Toni glances briefly his way, and he’s alarmed with the sad resignation in her eyes.  Like she thinks whatever Foster’s asking permission for will change things between them, though why the hell Foster thinks she needs to introduce Toni at all, because last he checked she doesn’t know her, is beyond him. “Yeah, Mi, you have my permission.”

“May I present my Lady General Evelyn Rosalie Potter, Duchess of Honor’s Hearth, Duchess of Ravenmore, Archduchess of Braveheart Haven, Archduchess of Justice Falls, Girl-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World,  Woman-Who-Conquered, and Master of Death,” Foster says solemnly, “known to those of this world as Dr Antoinette Evelyn Stark, Merchant of Death, the Da Vinci of Our Time, and Iron Maiden.”

“Bloody titles,” Toni gripes with a look of utter disgust on her face.

“You do seem to accumulate them,” Pepper of all people comments, like she doesn’t think Foster is absolutely insane.

“Ugh!” Toni groans, collapsing back onto the couch to tip her head back and bringing her hands up to cover her face. “Don’t remind me!”

“There, there,” Pepper coos, reaching out to pat Toni’s head. “You’ll survive.”

“I hate you both,” his best friend grumbles.

“Of this world,” Not-Boot repeats sharply, beating out Rhodey asking the exact same question by mere seconds.  The man’s expression, oddly enough, is stunned disbelief.

Foster fixes him with an unimpressed look, placing a hand on her hip as she cocks it. “I’m not entirely sure why you seem all that surprised, Sky Walker, or was Cáelfind incorrect in her assumption that you regularly walk on Yggdrasil’s branches to bypass the Bifrost?”

“Your teacher is far too nosy,” Not-Boot mutters even as Toni drops her hands away from her face to ask, “Did you just reference Star Wars?”

“You’re welcome to take that up with her yourself, but she semi-regularly gets together with your mother to essentially gossip, so bare that in mind,” Foster blandly returns, grinning slightly when Not-Boot winces, “and no, Toni, that wasn’t a Star Wars reference.”

“Someone explain to me,” Rhodey finally intones, low and temper barely constrained, “what exactly it is that you’re tiptoeing around and why the hell my best friend looks like I’m going to abandon her because of it.”

A look of utter fury flashes across Foster’s face before it disappears behind a mask very similar to the one his best friend crafted to protect herself from the vultures that are always circling her. “I suddenly want to demand lessons in necromancy if only to give Howard Stark a piece of my mind,” she spits out through gritted teeth.

“We don’t need a repeat of Surrey!” Toni protests, bolting fully upright.

“There is every reason to repeat Surrey,” Foster all but snarls. “You are ours, Eve.  We’ve been over this before multiple times.  No one is allowed to hurt you, especially not family.”

Out of the cover of his eye, Rhodey notices the way Not-Boot’s shoulders go ever so slightly stiff, but most of his attention is riveted on Toni and the way her shoulders relax at this declaration.  There’ll be time later to focus more on Not-Boot, and Rhodey knows for a fact that JARVIS is recording all this for all that it’ll be encrypted to hell and back because the AI is stupidly protective of his creator.

“Or do we need to have another meeting, Lady Potter?” Pepper asks, tone deceptively mild while the arch of her eyebrow very clearly shows her displeasure at the mere idea. “I might not have Lady Abbott’s gift for guilt trips, but I’m willing to give it my best effort and something tells me that Lady Lovegood and Miss Granger are equally willing to assist.”

“You’re all the absolute worst and I don’t know why I put up with you.” Toni drags a hand down her face and an expression of grim determination that Rhodey’s never seen on his best friend’s face before settles into place.  It’s an expression he’s used to seeing on the higher ups in the military, one that speaks of their displeasure about whatever situation they’ve found themselves stuck in but by God they’re going to get everyone out of it come hell or high water. “Sit down, James, this might take a bit.”

Rhodey abruptly finds himself sitting down.

Toni never calls him by his first name.

“Please don’t interrupt me, I don’t think I’ll be able to start again,” Toni says softly, glancing briefly outside before turning pleading eyes onto Rhodey.  He mutely nods his head and Toni exhales shakily while her eyes slide shut for just a moment. “Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lost her parents at the tender age of one to a mad man.  She was sent to be raised by her aunt and uncle, and lived in the cupboard underneath the stairs for the next ten years.  She grew up thinking her name was ‘Freak’ and couldn’t understand why she was so different that her relatives hated her and actively tried to beat an unknown freakishness out of her.  Then, on her eleventh birthday a letter arrived that answered that question.  She was invited to a special school specifically to help her train and harness the magic she’d been born with.”

Rhodey nearly bites his tongue when he realizes that he recognizes the story that Toni’s telling.  Mostly because he remembers his best friend nearly hurling the sixth book of the series out a window in a fit of temper she’d never been able to actually explain.  The first five she’d just been amusingly bemused by.

“Her first year going to this school, her Defense teacher let himself be possessed by the lingering spirit of the mad man who’d killed her parents.  She ended up killing the teacher at the end of the year, though she didn’t understand this until much later.  Her second year ended with her facing a preserved memory of the mad man and being forced to fight and kill a basilisk.  The only reason she survived was by the grace of a phoenix crying over the spot where the basilisk managed to bite her in its death throws.  Her third year she was hunted by her deranged godfather who’d betrayed her parents to the mad man who killed them and had broken out of prison to come after her twelve years later to finish the job.  She learned at the end of the year that he never actually betrayed them and that the one who did had been hiding in plain sight as a friend’s family pet rat.  Her fourth year she was illegally entered into what amounted to a death tournament and forced to compete.  She faced nesting mother dragons, retrieved treasure from the bottom of a freezing lake in the dead of winter, and eventually was used in a dark ritual by the mad man to give himself a new body.  Her fifth year the government refused to accept the idea that the mad man was back and sent a government official to the school to help try and enforce this notion.” Foster doesn’t say anything, but reaches across Toni’s lap to lay her hand atop Toni’s right one, her thumb stroking across unblemished skin like she’s checking for something.  Toni in turn tips her head momentarily to the side and knocks her head against Foster’s shoulder. “In the end it didn’t matter, because the mad man broke into the central government building and everyone saw him.  Everyone saw that girl wasn’t a liar or attention seeker or fame hog.” Toni pauses, flipping her right hand over to be able to wrap her fingers around Foster’s hand that still rested on top of hers.  Pepper even reaches up to lay her own hand atop their two, the three of them in their own hushed little world and Rhodey’s chest aches.  Both from his wish that he could do something about the obvious upset of his best friend when Pepper and a stranger can, and also the fact that while he wishes he could write off this whole story Toni’s been telling as nonsense, something deep inside him won’t allow that.

“And then the war started,” Foster murmurs.

Toni barks out a bitter laugh. “And then the fucking war started.  And everyone was terrified, because the last time he’d been at the height of his power it took a fucking baby and a prophecy to bring him to his knees, not that anyone knew it at the time.  They knew it this time, though, and no one thought to try and make a stand against him, not with a prophecy in play.  No, they all turned their eyes and their hopes and their desires to their sixteen year old saviour and begged her to save them again.  Begged her to sacrifice herself for them again, when in reality the first time she’d survived it was because of her mother’s sacrifice and refusal to stand aside.  So she did, because what the hell else was she supposed to do?  For ten years she led the fight against the mad man who’d murdered her childhood and her innocence until the people gave her the moniker of General.  Until all she seemed to know was war and death and loss.  And at the end of it all, she did it.  She killed him.  She put him down like the mad man that he was and she felt no remorse.  But by then the people feared her as much as they revered her, and for five years she did her best to endure the people trying to force her into a box that made them feel safe from the supposed monster they’d begged her to become.  Until it became too much, and so she petitioned Mother Magic for peace of any kind.  In the end, that resulted in Lady Evelyn Rosalie Potter waking up as Antoinette Evelyn Stark after she fell back through the open portal above New York City having had a close brush with Death and having sent a nuke through at the attacking spaceship because my luck fucking sucks.”

“Morgana preserve me, we have to deal with both House Potter Luck and your Stark nonsense now,” Pepper mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

“Oh stars, no,” Foster groans.

“Why am I friends with the both of you?” Toni gripes, reaching up with her free hand to scrub at her eyes which were slightly glassy.

“Because we’re willing to follow you to a totally different universe sight unseen,” Foster promptly replies, watching Rhodey warily.

“Toni,” he says softly, reaching out to grab ahold of the hand still scrubbing away at her unshed tears. “Toni, look at me, please.” He patiently waits until his friend finally meets his gaze. “I don’t care what happened in this other world to you.  I mean, I do because it happened to you, but at the end of the day, you’re my best friend and that hasn’t changed.”

Toni’s lower lip trembles before she flings herself at him.  With practiced ease he catches her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and holding her as she silently cries.  He ignores the way her arc reactor digs into his chest.  As he holds her, Pepper settles herself next to Foster and does the same for her.

“We’re gonna have a lot to talk about later, but nothing between us has changed one bit.”

“You’re the absolute best, Platypus, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Toni mumbles, arms tightening around him.