moments
Stephen, as a rule, liked to keep a distance from people. They either annoyed him, bored him, or exhausted him. He’d found exceptions to that rule, but in true Stephen fashion he’d messed them up.
Well, that was in the past luckily. And literally.
This time around, it was entirely different. Because Stephen knew better. Or at least what not to do. So he ardently stopped himself from lashing out and pushing them away. And from dying. So for the first time in a long long time, Stephen had a ‘community’. Although the idea alone was daunting and more than a little uncomfortable and made Stephen cringe.
But, reluctantly, Stephen admits it isn’t so horrible. He had Christine’s seemingly endless support—and he tried his best to reciprocate. He had Yao’s quiet guidance and boundless knowledge. And he had… 'The Avengers’.
It was a weird thing for sure. He’d never particularly liked any of them, but he was learning to. He was learning to appreciate their positive attributes…and their very many faults.
Even so, Stephen was a man who appreciated his solitude, so he didn’t spend his time hanging around the clubhouse like the rest of them. Not a lot of it at least.
But, unnecessarily so, Stephen being here was almost like a bat signal for the rest of them to just… appear.
And as usual, Stephen’d been there for about 30 minutes, sipping tea, when Tony breezed in.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in Nebraska,” he drawled, leaning onto the counter and sniffing his tea.
Stephen send him a look and pulled his cup away from the man, “I needed a break from the—”
“—happiness? Yeah that definitely doesn’t seem like your kind of vibe,” came the dry response, making Stephen roll his eyes. Before he could retort, Steve walked in looking drowsy.
“What’re you guys doing here?”
Stephen sent a deadpan look at the man, standing abruptly and grabbing his cup. “You guys are exhausting,” he stated, before turning away and flicking his wrist to create a portal. He glided through without a glance back.
The next morning, he woke up and found himself in his childhood kitchen again. He watched silently as his parents filtered in, followed by Victor who eyed him warily.
“Morning,” he muttered, feeling remarkably awkward. He knew that he had used his knowledge of the future to ensure that this was possible. But that doesn’t mean Stephen was going to fundamentally change as a person and suddenly love spending time with his family.
He tried to remind himself that he’d yearned to live in this moment for a long time. And that he’d regretted his dour attitude and recalcitrance. So, here he was. ‘Making nice’ as Christine liked to call it.
All his awkward feelings were immediately forgotten when he saw the smile his mother sent back to him. He almost forgot that they really weren’t the same people, not when he’d already removed Mordo’s dark magic, not when the happiness had been returned to them.
Stephen smiled back, valiantly trying to hide the strength of it behind his cup.
Contrary to popular belief, Steve understood social situations. He could tell when someone didn’t like him and he could tell when someone was ignoring him.
And even if he didn’t, Bucky was being incredibly obvious about it.
Steve sat on the kitchen counter, sipping his smoothie, and just thinking. He pondered the life he was living now and how it compared to the life he once lived—according to his friends.
It was always a trip to consider how different they were. To Steve, he could never imagine making some of those decisions. Except, no. That’s not true. He could imagine it, because he was a much naiver version of himself. He hadn’t gotten therapy and as far as he could understand, he’d been poisoned on all his teammates before he could even meet them.
He found it funny how important first impressions really were. He could admit that he had delicate sensibilities—being a man from the 40s—in comparison to the others. And he could definitely see that being presented with a drunk man parading his wealth and influence and ego around would’ve had his hackles raised to the sky, never to be seen again.
Funnily enough, Steve had sought all those videos out before Tony and Stephen had shared their secret. But, he had seen them for the destructive and foolish act that they were because he knew the man.
And he saw the haughty quotes and soundbites and stories about Stephen as the same. Because he knew him better than that.
But he hadn’t known that in their other ‘timeline’ and the team continued to unravel from there.
Steve shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He was feeling particularly contemplative because he was trying to figure out how to deal with the situation at hand, which was drastically different from the story he'd been told.
He didn’t feel that same co-dependant drive to force Bucky into the mold of his best friend like he supposedly had. Steve had reconciled his feelings about the past and learned the importance of moving forwards.
He knew that this was something that needed time and space because Bucky was dealing with something internal that he couldn’t wish away. Much to Tony’s eternal amusement, magic was not all-powerful.
Steve held his body still as he heard the hesitant footsteps approach the kitchen. He took a forcibly-casual sip of his smoothie and the looming figure grew closer.
“I made some extra, it’s all yours,” he offered before getting up to leave. Just as he turned around to walk out, he paused at a throat clearing.
“You- You can stay.”
And there it was. The olive branch he’d been waiting for. He turned back around, shooting Bucky a soft smile, before returning to his seat.
He tightened his grip, his palm sweat making him almost slip, he lets out a grunt in response.
“So… that company, AIM?”
He paused, strengthening his grip and swinging outwards to look down incredulously, “Now? ..really?”
“You’re the one who chose to have the meeting here,” her amused drawl echoed through the giant room.
Tony looked back up, pulling himself higher, “I thought you’d see the location and we could just skip talking about work..?” His voice trails off sheepishly. As he secures his foot on the next hold, his cheer could be heard echoing throughout the ensuing silence.
He was sure that scheduling the meeting during his and Rhodey’s rock climbing time would work. He pouts to himself.
“You’re a child,” Rhodey calls from below him. “And I’m gaining on you.”
A sigh rings through the space, along with a thud, before Beth calls up a taunt, “You’re no better, James.”
Before Rhodey could respond, he found himself face to face with Bethany. He spluttered, his hand almost slipping, “How are you here?”
And without responding, she continued to climb steadily. While Rhodey and Tony were taking a leisurely pace, Bethany climbed like a woman on a mission.
When she eventually reached Tony, she crept in to surprise him. “I have updates on our AIM mission,” she said firmly into his ear, causing him to startle.
His hand seems to slip in the jerky movement, making him begin falling towards the mat about 50 feet below.
Before he could call out for JARVIS, his ankle was caught deftly by Rhodey, leaving him to slam upside-down against the rock wall, “—AH!”
He looks up to Rhodey, face sweating and upside-down, “I’m falling for you, sugarplum.”
Rhodey sends him a deadpanned look, “I should’ve let you fall on your ass.”
Tony quirks a small smile, “Rhodey, you would never. I fall you and catch me, that’s the deal.”
Bethany grunts from above, “Why did you schedule me in as a third wheel?”
Tony wriggled a little, trying to crunch upwards, but finding himself too tired. He flails a little longer before giving up and falling slack, “Ugh. Ok fine, I’m ready for a meeting.”
“JARVIS, you better grab him because I’m dropping him.”
“No wait, wait!”
“Nope.”
It took half a second before Tony was falling again and another quarter second for JARVIS to extend a platform for Tony to land on with a grunt.
He craned his neck to look up, “this was supposed to be fun,” he muttered, trying to catch his breath. He let his head fall back with a thump. “Ow.”
The lights were bright, way too bright. The last thing she remembered was the dim light of her dads makeshift lab in the basement.
She hadn’t yet dared to crack her eyelids open to meet the sharp lights, but she instinctively could tell she wasn’t there any longer. The smell was different. She couldn’t find the notes of mold that they weren’t able to air out.
All that she could smell was antiseptic. It was biting into her senses, making her nose wrinkle. She was disoriented and tried to connect with the rest of her body, seeking out her senses.
She could hear the heart monitor, first and foremost, but as she stretched farther she found…. nothing? No, that’s not right.. There was sound dampening on the doors and walls, but she could just barely make out a network of sounds. A whole world of sounds she couldn’t begin to decipher, she’d never heard anything like that before.
The sound dampening was making it hard for her to map her surroundings, so all she could be sure was that she was alone in a room. Not really helpful.
She should probably open her eyes. She scrunched her eyes, preparing to face the biting pain she knew the lights would bring. When she finally managed to squint them open, she found the lights to be dimmer. Within another blink they were raised marginally, helping her acclimate efficiently.
It caused her to pause, she’d never seen a reactive light before, let alone something that could dim its intensity. Now that her eyes were open, she observed the surroundings and found herself with more questions than she initially had.
Where was she?
Her head jerked to the direction she could her the thumping of hurried footsteps, accompanied by a male voice, pitched higher in panic?
She couldn’t quite make out the words until suddenly the metallic wall split in half, opening to reveal a hallway. The sound-dampening seemed to be disrupted by this, leaving a wall of sound to float in.
She tilted her head as the man walked in. She’d never seen facial hair like that before, nor had she seen garb like that. That seemed to snap her out of her stupor lightly as she turned to look at her own outfit. But that wasn’t what caught her attention. She looked different, adult almost. And to be honest, she wasn’t sure what she was wearing before so she wasn’t sure if it had been changed or not.
She shivered at the thought.
“We didn’t change your clothes, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
She looked up, her relief likely palpable on her face. “T—”
Before she could finish the word, she broke into a fit of coughs, her throat stinging. After a few seconds, she managed to choke out her appreciation. She spent a second staring at her hand, still confused.
The man nodded, before looking towards the side and approaching a chair and table. She hadn’t noticed it in her initial confusion, but felt relieved at the distance it provided. The man took a seat, the simple move allowing the formality to fade away.
She took a pause to observe the divide she was lying in. It was a tube of sorts which looked incomplete because the lid was clearly removed. She turned in her spot and threw her feet over the edge. She stared at her feet as she wiggled her toes and cracked her ankles.
She looked up suddenly and the man seemed to startle before regarding her with trepidation. She had expected her welcome party to look significantly different.
Namely, her parents.
And she was sure the confusion was coming through, but the man didn’t seem willing to make the first move. Although, he did begin to twitch and fidget, so she was clearly expected to speak. Her dad used to hate when she observed him like this, he said it unbecoming and creepy.
She was definitely unnerving the man, because the longer she held onto the silence, the more he fidgeted.
“How long was I in there. And don’t lie.” Her voice sounded insolent to her own ears, truly sounding and feeling all of 11 years old.
He winced, confirming her suspicions, but she continued to wait patiently.
“We’re not sure. But it’s 2011 now,” his voice trailed off as he finished his statement. She wasn’t sure if he actually did or it was because of her own ringing ears.
She felt her world shifting at that, unsure of what to think. Was this a joke? a jape? To what end, though? Her father was a serious man and her mother much too sweet. They would’t allow it.
But they weren’t here. So, they were gone, for one reason or another. It was difficult to say if she’d been captured and was being manipulated or if they were really truly passed on and she’d survived them unknowingly. She wished she was less naive to the world, because as much as she was able to stare unnervingly and detect heart beats, she’d never dealt with true deception, she couldn’t really tell.
At least she could say definitively that the time passed was thoroughly reflected on her body. If anything, she should look much older, 30 years at least? She definitely doesn’t feel the same age. She didn’t know how to describe the difference, but she felt.. older? It was hard to pinpoint the tangible difference, but it was a feeling she could recognize. Her expression right now could probably rival her fathers when he went into his lab or her mums talking to the neighbours.
The man didn’t seem to agree. He stared on with something akin to pity? He looked uncomfortable, that’s all she could say for sure.
She waited.
She wasn’t really sure what she was expected to do. Luckily, the man seemed to sense that and he seemed to edit up straighter.
“I’m Tony. We found your cradle when we were exploring an old base. We tried to look for your relatives, but they’ve unfortunately passed away.” His voice droned on and Jessica couldn’t bring herself to be surprised. It was exactly as she expected. Regardless, tears sprung from her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jessica. But don’t worry, we’re going to help you out.”
“We?” she asked, head tilting. She sent a few pointed glances through the otherwise empty room.
“Want to meet everybody?”
The gardens of Asgard were beautiful and bountiful. It felt like the the flowers were eternally in bloom and the sweet berries forever ripe for the picking, sending sweet smells throughout.
Loki liked to sit here whenever he felt overwhelmed or needed an escape. The light breeze left him feeling calm and rejuvenated, usually.
Not today though.
Because today he was granted the sight of Thor sparring with Hela. Which was ridiculous in and of itself, but grew increasingly ridiculous. For each loss that Thor faced, Frigga demanded Hela gain a handicap for the rematch.
She was now sparring without use of most spells, use of her right hand and her left foot.
And Thor was just barely hanging on. It was ridiculous how powerful her seidr was, ridiculous and infuriating.
Loki had tried to inquire upon her training, subtly of course, but she’d seen through all of his attempts. Loki huffed at the memory and watched Thor get frozen in ice.
Loki watched as Hela refused to thaw him and yelled at him to use his seidr.
“You have a better chance of getting a bilgesnipe to wear formal garments,” he teased, earning a snort from Hela. Thor was still frozen, but he got the impression that he would’ve gotten a glare.
Slowly, smoke started to emit from the block of ice and before anyone could blink lightning shot down and struck the block. A large crack rung out, and the ice split to reveal Thor taking turns glaring at him, Hela, and their mother who was supposedly ‘refereeing’.