Avengers: Reforged (Discontinued)

Avengers: Reforged II: After The Victory

Earth- 199 621, 2019

Eddie’s Apartment

Eddie Brock keyed open his apartment and threw down his bag. He sighed with minor exhaustion, clearly from exercise as his shirt was stained around the neck and under his arms with sweat. He had just returned from the gym, and as he looked at his watch he sighed again. He headed towards his bedroom, and as he opened the door, he flipped on the light switch. The small room was suddenly flooded with orange light as he reached into the second door of his faded wood dresser. Rather absentmindedly, he grabbed a moss-green t-shirt. He slowly peeled off his current gey t-shirt and threw it into a small pile of his other dirty clothes. As he tugged the rather tight shirt on he began thinking of something that had his mind enraptured since over a year ago now.  

Venom’s death. 

He and Eddie had just been reading a magazine before, suddenly, poof. Venom had disintegrated into dust. Eddie had looked it up, and people from all over the globe had been experiencing the exact same things. People had just randomly turned into grey ash- Hell, not even just people. Friends, strangers, pets, wild animals, even the occasional house plant just evaporated just as Venom had. Since then, the Avengers had released news. Apparently, the cause of ‘The Vanishing’- which was the official name given to the disaster, as well as the title of the lives claimed- was a super-alien named Thanos collecting six omnipotent space rocks and snapping his fingers somewhere in the hyper-advanced African kingdom Wakanda that had opened its borders about three years ago.

Eddie scoffed as he recalled the name. Thanos, what kind of name was Thanos? Even if he was an alien, what kind of parent thought ‘Thanos’ was a good name? Upon thinking of the word alien, Eddie’s mind fell to another space-alien with a weird name.

‘Venom,’ He thought. His face fell as Venom came to mind again, but this time in a longing way. Eddie missed Venom so goddamn much. Luckily, Anne had survived ‘The Vanishing’, so he wasn’t entirely alone, but life still sucked without Venom. Sometimes it was the powers he missed, but it was mostly Venom himself. His conversation, his presence, his smart-ass remarks, he missed the whole thing. Eddie turned around and leaned his back against his dresser, hearing the drawer close under him. He brought his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera roll, looking back a year's time. Almost every picture had Venom over his shoulder or materialized into the photo another way.

One of his favourites was one he had tried to take professionally, but Venom had rested his little snake-like head materialization on the top of Eddie’s head like a cat. Looking at the picture again, Eddie smiled forlornly. He checked his watch again before he exited his room and made his way to the kitchen before sitting down at a small, round wooden table with a worn laptop on it. 

Open was some writing software with his most recent journalized entry of ‘The Brock Report’ covering the updated news on The Vanishing. He had written it over the course of three or four weeks and now it lay on his drive, ready to be released yet still restrained for one simple reason.

He hated it. 

Everything in the stupid article reminded him of his best friend that would never be seen again. 

It began rather tamely, with the usual introduction and quips written in, but when the news of Vanishing began to become prevalent, the style of writing became depressed, almost suicidal in the way he lamented being one of the fifty percent to survive the disaster. The biggest thing he wrote about was how he could relate to anyone affected, talking solely of Venom yet not mentioning his name.

Goddammit, he missed that alien.

Three Years Later…

Eddie Brock rested drunkenly on the worn couch within his apartment, an unknown number of empty beers beside him on the floor haphazardly. Over the last three years, so much had happened.

First thing that had happened was Eddie’s depression had won over him, from all kinds of sources; Anne had been paralyzed after a murder attempt just a few days after Eddie had published the article about the Vanishing, Venom was still dead despite every wish he had, the murder rate had gone up exponentially within San Francisco, but it was the most recent news Eddie became aware of just a month ago that was fueling this specific period.

Brain cancer. 

He had brain cancer. 

The doctor gave him only another two years to live, give or take another few months either way. Eddie laughed as he thought of it. Yes, he was laughing because yes, it was funny, it was hilarious that even since the biggest threat the universe had ever faced had succeeded, life continued to beat down upon him- continued to take everything he had; First it had been Venom, erased from reality by a space alien, then Anne, killed by some angry asshole when she had been walking back home and finally his own mind was trying to kill him. So, he gave up. There was nothing to lose, nothing to gain.

Why bother. So yes, in summary:

Funny.

As Eddie allowed his head to fall back against the couch he breathed hard and allowed his mind to slowly fall back to Venom. He was the only one Eddie could think of, and Eddie hated that. Why not Anne? Why not his wife? Why a random space symbiote being that had latched itself to him on a whim? 

Because Venom was everything more to him than anyone else.

He loved Anne, he always would, but he and Venom shared something, something that couldn’t even be described by English. It was such a primal, mysterious feeling. It was love, but not the kind you give a wife, or a parent or sibling, nor any other he could think, it was more. More than… Just more. Eddie laughed again as he thought of the connection between him and his dead friend. The more he tried to explain it the more he hated the sound of it.

Funny.

As Eddie took another pitiful drink from the bottle in his hand he realized the bottle was mysteriously and enragingly empty when all he got was air. Anger quickly took him over and he chucked the bottle at the wall opposite him. He expected it to hit the wall with a great crash as he put his head in his hands and leaned forward. But, it didn’t.

After a moment of waiting, Eddie looked up. The bottle he had just despondently thrown was in a hand, being studied under a careful eye. He followed the hand to a body, his lip shaking when his dying brain realized who it was. It was impossible, absolutely and entirely impossible.

The arm holding the bottle was thick and sturdy, as was the body it was connected to. The body was sculpted and strong, with a bulky frame built for protection. The eyes on the head were a pure milk-white, glistening in the light coming through Eddie’s open window. The being smiled happily, revealing sharp dagger-like yellowed teeth. The skin of the being was an inky black, with the superficial appearance of thick slime. The figure was tall, perhaps seven feet. As Eddie sat and stared in shock, the being began shrinking down to a small ball. The ball then shot right at Eddie’s chest and entered his body.

Eddie collapsed onto the couch as the being began working its way into him. Eddie’s breathing was rapid and shallow as his brain failed to comprehend what just happened. He forced it to function, and the only feeling he could quantify within his being was desperation.

“V… Venom?” Eddie asked, voice quiet and broken. Venom was back. How. His mind was failing to react, simply crashing with realization when Venom whispered brokenly,

“Cancer?” Eddie immediately felt horrible hearing Venom’s usually intimidating and gravelly voice gentle and crushed. Venom slowly materialized from his shoulder, his usually cocky face broken and sad. Eddie’s lip quivered before he nodded and answered,

“Brain. I got uh... I got two years left, maybe,” Venom physically recoiled from the response, before shaking his head and looking back to Eddie. His expression hardened as he dove back into Eddie. The man sat in guilty silence for a few minutes until Venom reemerged with a look of… Joy? The best way he could describe the look on the alien’s face was like when something you’ve built works without a hitch on the first try.

“Not anymore. I’m here, Eddie,” Venom smiled, genuinely and relieved. "I will keep you safe," Eddie stared at Venom with a look of amazement, physically unable to formulate a reply. His eyes began to well up with tears of the greatest gratitude he had ever experienced. Venom smiled wider as Eddie slowly began crying. He wrapped his arms around Venom’s materialization and pulled him tight. Venom reciprocated gently by nuzzling into Eddie’s shoulder. They both sat there for hours until Eddie fell asleep from exhaustion. Venom curled up in his arms and slept with him, just like how he used to five years ago.

Venom was back.

Rebuilt Quantum Tunnel, 2023

Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were gathered around a smaller version of the Quantum Tunnel that had resided within the Avengers Facility a few days ago. Banner was quickly working on the control panel before he began speaking. "Okay, Rogers, Remember, you have to return all six Stones to the exact place we got 'em. Or else we're gonna have opened a bunch of nasty alternate realities," Steve smiled as he closed a briefcase with six Stones. He stood and turned back to Banner.

"Don't worry, Bruce. Clip all the branches," He picked up the briefcase and walked onto the portal. Already resting on the portal was Thor's 2013 version of Mjolnir. Hs took hold of the hammer's ornate handle, both of his hands now full. Bruce continued brushing keys and flipping levers, calibrating the quantum tunnel to the correct settings for this mission. Suddenly, he slowed and stopped. Steve, Sam and Bucky looked over to the silent Banner, who in turn looked up to Steve.

"You know, I don't think we tried," He spoke despondently. Steve raised an eyebrow, a silent signal that allowed him to continue. "When we had the Gauntlet… The Stones… We didn't even try to bring him back…" Banner trailed off, shaking his head in disappointment. Disappointment in himself and Hulk for not even once thinking to attempt to bring Barton back. "I still miss him, though…"

Steve nodded understandingly. Perhaps, in another reality where Natasha was the one who gave her life for the Soul Stone, Bruce would have tried to bring her back, even at the cost of himself. But, Steve knew internally that even if Hulk had tried to revive Clint it wouldn't have worked. 

"You know, if you want, I can come with you," Sam quickly changed the rather awkward subject as he offered and stepped closer to the portal. Bucky gave a quizzical smile behind the man's back. Steve smiled as he set the briefcase down and slowly stepped off the tunnel's entrance. He walked and embraced Sam before commenting kindly, "You're a good man, Sam. But this one's on me," As Sam nodded with a well-disguised grimace.

It was then that Steve looked over Sam's shoulder to see Bucky, the man that had fueled Steve's entire system not a week ago now leaned against a tree absentmindedly, his once questioning expression now one that was deep in contemplational thought. Steve approached the metal-armed man as he shook himself out of his trance and looked into Rogers' eyes. His expression seemed indifferent, but Steve knew Bucky well enough to see under the facade. He was worried, what about was a mystery, however. Steve shook off the rising question before telling him,

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back." Bucky smiled as his eighty-year-old line was taken. In turn, he stole Steve's and replied, "How can I? You're takin' all the stupid with you," Steve smiled as he hugged Bucky. Bucky hugged him back, keeping the embrace for a few seconds. 

"I'm gonna miss you, Steve," He spoke with a desperate finality, sounding almost like he was worried Steve wouldn't return. Steve separated from their embrace. As Steve looked into Bucky's brown eyes he assured him, "I'm coming back, Buck," In a show of false, vain comfort Bucky forced an obviously fake smile. Steve patted his friend's biological shoulder before fatefully returning to the peak of the quantum tunnel. 

Rogers tapped the Time-Space-GPS on his left wrist which caused the immaculately white-and-red Quantum suit to begin crawling onto his skin and over his usual costume. As the suit enveloped his chest, the hard plastic became emblazoned with a sharp five-pointed star with a harsh edge down the center of all five legs of the star. Steve took hold of the briefcase with the Stones as well as Miolnir's handle.

"So, how long is this gonna take?" Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Bruce smiled as he flipped the last switch, the portal now ready to return Steve to times past.

"For him, as long as he needs. For us; Five seconds," Sam nodded as if he understood, but truly he was all the more confused. Steve nodded readily to Bucky as Banner brushed a few more keys until there was a click followed immediately by a low, shivering hum.

"Going quantum in three… two… one-" There was a bright flash as Steve shrunk down and disappeared. Sam and Bucky looked in slight amazement in Steve's absence. Not even three seconds later, Bruce began counting down again. "And returning in five… four… three…"

Bucky and Sam began staring at the portal, Bucky with a well-masked sad stare. He knew Steve wouldn't return. Call it a hunch, a guess, whatever the most accurate definition was, his gut- his deepest, most primal brain whispered truth of Steve remaining back in time. Sam, however, had no such instinct, instead blindly believing in Steve's goodness, hopefully begging for him to come back empty-handed. But Bucky knew.

"Two…" Why was he so angry? Not at Steve, not by a long shot, but at Sam. At Sam for having such faith, such hope buried within a man he hardly knew, a man who had only known him nine years! He had known him for nearer to ninety! Samuel Wilson had no right to have such blind faith within a man he had not a single inkling of!

"One!" Sam perked up in expectation as Bucky relaxed against the tree dejectedly. He let his anger towards Sam's stupid optimism go as the reality of Steve's absence set in. Steve had stayed in the past, probably living out a life with Peggy. He and Bucky had talked about it some nights on Skype when he was recovering in Wakanda, that if Steve ever had the chance to live out a life with Peggy, he would.

Expectedly, Sam and Bruce were confused at Steve’s absence. “Where is he?” Sam asked, his voice rising frantically ever so slightly. Banner began working on the controls in an effort to bring back Steve. “I don’t know, he blew right by his timestamp- He should be here!” Sam looked back to the blank portal and continued arguing with Bruce, but Bucky stood back and let the reality settle in.

Steve had left them. Left them to fend for themselves and-

The portal pushed out a giant mass onto the floor of the tunnel. Sam and Banner recoiled in surprise while Bucky jumped up into a fighting stance. He raised his metal arm, ready to pummel whatever just emerged into their timeline. It was then that a gloved hand shot up in defence, along with a quick, "Wait!" The hand was covered in a leather glove with hard plastic on the knuckles and back of the palm.

“Steve?” Bucky asked, staring at his friend on the floor of the portal. Steve was hunched over on something, painfully reflecting whenever he tried to save others from a grenade by laying on it. He rolled off of the other… person? Under Rogers’ muscular body lay a small yet lithe and athletic brunette, passed out from- most likely- surprise. She wore an army-green uniform with an open collar that had two identical golden emblems on the hood of the collar fold, a sharply-folded white shirt and dark hazel tie underneath. Around her waist was a belt of the same colour, hugging the jacket tightly around her, four golden buttons leading down the front, the third one down hidden under the belt. At the apex of her hips, the jacket cut off and under lay a green skirt that ended at her knees. She wore intimidating brown heels as well, however, she looked oddly small in Steve’s arms.

“Who the hell is that?” Sam asked, looking confusedly at the rather tall woman- she looked just a few inches shorter than himself. Steve looked to him with an exuberantly amazed smiled, before responding,

“Gentlemen, meet Margeret Carter. Peggy.”

Tony's Hospital, 2023

Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Bruce Banner, alongside Tony's wife Pepper and their young daughter Morgan were all gathered around the comatose Tony Stark. He was hooked up to all manner of medical machines, producing all sorts of noises. An oxygen mask covered the bottom half of his face and IV drips ran in and out of his arms. His left arm, as well as the left side of his neck and a small bit of his face was raw and cooked, his arm shrivelled, thin and weak. The doctors had discussed amputating the unfortunately now-useless limb. For the first time since his return to Earth after losing to Thanos five years ago, Tony looked weak, frail, ready to expire. He was breathing steady, but they were slow and shallow, almost as if he were scared to breathe, scared to survive.

Steve sighed and looked down. He had always put up a strong front of stoicism and iron-clad emotion but in reality, he was scared. He was surely scared for Tony, the man whose life he had apparently saved. It had been almost subconscious. He had seen Tony sitting there, the Stones in hand, ready to snap…

The Battlefield

Steve managed to break away from the Outriders just in time to see Tony tackle Thanos. Rogers quickly looked around, singling out Hulk, Romanoff, Thor and Loki. He rushedly spoke through his communicator,

“Hulk, Nat, Thor, on Stark now,” They all broke away from their fighting and began making their way to Tony. Hulk leapt over a Chitauri Gorilla to reach Natasha. He gently scooped up the red-to-blonde before gingerly leaping to Stark’s side. Thor nodded to his brother as they began moving towards the threatened man in their own ways- Thor carving through the Chitauri and Outriders alike, smashing his way through some with Mjolnir, chopping others in half with Stormbreaker and frying everything else with his white-hot lightning. Loki was stealthily running through the army, cloning himself and turning hollow as required as well as occasionally stabbing some of the enemies with fine, secretive daggers. They reached Tony at the same time as Hulk and Natasha. Steve used his Super-Soldier strength to leap over and bounce off everything that tried to grab him. By now, Tony had been punched away by Thanos, who resettled the gauntlet upon his gigantic hand Stark had tried to pull off. He readied his fingers to Snap as he arrogantly whispered, 

"I am…" His fingers tensed up to snap, the glowing Stones turned away from him. His face became decorated with cocky pride as he prepared to reset the world.

"Inevitable." The world froze with tension as Thanos snapped his fingers... With only a hollow, metallic clang that contained next to no reverberation. Thanos then looked confusedly at his Gauntlet before turning over his hand. The sockets were…

Empty. 

Tony raised his hand as the left hand of his nanobot suit reconfigured to support the six Stones. They clamped down into the newly formed sockets, causing six overlapping streams of colour-saturated energy to begin coursing over his suit, luckily being majorly absorbed as it peeled away the metal microtechnology in its path. He recoiled from the power but quickly steadied. He smiled to Thanos as he whispered,

"And I… Am…"

It was then that Steve slapped Tony on the right shoulder, holding his broken shield surely. The energy began flowing through him as well, his entire system embracing the multicoloured light. Tony looked to him in modest shock before Steve nodded gallantly through the minute pain of Stones as it withered to a steady feeling. Natasha mirrored his action and placed her hand on Tony's right shoulder, her body also reacting to the energy. She was supported by Hulk, who gave her one of his fingers to hold onto, barely reacting as it was also translated to him. Thor and Loki approached Steve's right. They nodded before joining hands in a loving, brotherly alliance as Loki put his hand on Steve's shoulder. The two gods were affected far less than their mortal teammates but were affected nonetheless.

Tony looked to his team with a look of sheer appreciation and admiration, directing his look to Steve, who nodded before whispering,

“I’m with you, Tony,” Natasha, Hulk, Thor and Loki agreed silently as Tony turned back to Thanos. He shook his head to Thanos and shouted. “We… Are…" Tony sighed after a moment as he readied himself for the pain of the Snap.

"The Avengers!”

Hospital

 Steve had used every ounce of his strength to stand, but the physical push wasn't what had drained him. Not the pushing, not the standing, Hell, not even the Snap itself was as draining as the memory that had shot through his mind when he felt the burning work itself onto his arm in the white flash.

Bucky. His death back in 2018. The Vanishing. Why was that memory the one that had rushed him? Why not the plane crash? Why not Bucky's other death eighty years ago when he fell off the train? Steve sighed as his mind remained unrelenting on the topic, attracting Natasha's attention. She looked at him sadly but didn't say anything, instead turning back to Tony’s body after a moment. She settled into Bruce’s arms gingerly, a stark contrast of her usual super-assassin disposition.

Steve knew the mental queries of his memories were redundant, he knew why Bucky's second death had been the memory that very well could have been his last. Because Bucky was all he had left of an old life until a few days ago, and the way he had just disappeared was almost a mockery of how much effort was put into keeping him alive; HYDRA’s- much as he disliked admitting it- his own, Nick Fury’s, even the monarch of Wakanda was mocked as Bucky died so easily. 

But the largest reason was emotion, Bucky was the only thing Steve had to remind him of what was left behind when the plane crashed, and he would fight anyone and everyone to defend that, defend him. But now…

The door to the hospital slowly opened silently as Wanda Maximoff and The Vision entered, Wanda carrying a clean bunch of red and yellow flowers inside a small glass vase. Vision had changed the colouring and patterning of his skin to be more human, even going so far as to wear a baseball hat to conceal the synthetic Mind Stone recreation in his head and dark-tinted sunglasses to obscure his unchangeable mechanical eyes. They both looked sadly at Tony's unconscious form before Wanda set the flowers down on a nearby table, out of the way with the rest of the cards and gifts. Wanda then slowly walked up to Steve and whispered,

"Peggy's outside, by the way," Her accent was thicker than usual and her voice sounded hoarse. She returned to Vision and leaned against him, staring at Tony softly. For the first time in a long time, she didn't look like she wanted to kill him, to destroy him. In fact, she looked… Apologetic. She felt bad for his state, obviously warming up to Stark. Steve nodded to himself before nudging his way past Natasha, Bruce, Wanda and Vision. He looked at Tony again as he opened the door. He smiled as he wished his friend well. He turned and exited, slowly closing the door behind him. Peggy was across the hall in a blue fabric chair, absorbed in an old magazine from his collection. 

As she looked up to him her face was full mourning and melancholy, even though she didn't know Tony. Yet she did. Before Steve had stolen her from her own time, she had worked with Howard Stark, who told her all of his son despite his outwardly cold nature towards him.

Peggy was dressed in one of Wanda's sundresses overtop a black camisole. Her legs were bare but she wore black flats. When she stood to meet Steve she smoothed out the dress and began wringing her hands, unable to look Rogers in the face. Steve crossed the hall in one stride and gently embraced her, Peggy still evading his gaze by pretending to be interested in the brown leather jacket over his bulky frame.

“Peggy, what’s wrong?” Steve queried gently, pulling her close with his arms draping lovingly around her, circling her fine waist. The woman met his eyes, her dark olive orbs sparkling with worry. Wordlessly he took her into an embrace that she readily accepted. They stood there in noiseless bliss, allowing time to melt around them. Neither could tell how much time had passed when Wanda interrupted them by tapping Steve on the shoulder. She, Vision, Natasha and Bruce were leaving the hospital, offering Peggy and Steve to follow.

Quinjet

Steve, Peggy, Natasha, Bruce, Wanda and Vision were aboard an updated Avengers Quinjet as they flew through the air on the way to Wakanda. Very fortunately, King T’Challa had allowed them to take refuge within his country, but they wanted to be out as soon as possible. Wakanda had done plenty more than enough for them; Curing Bucky’s brainwashing, assistance during the Sokovia Accords Hunt, allowing them the use of Vibranium technology, now refuge due to the Facility’s destruction a few days ago. It was all gratefully accepted, but the Avengers had to be able to support themselves.

Loki, Thor, Rhodey, Sam and the rest were all back in Wakanda, awaiting the five's return so some others could depart and wish Tony well within the hospital. Shuri- the super-genius princess of Wakanda- had analyzed Tony and found nothing wrong physically, part his arm and the slight but repairable burning of his neck. Technically, he should wake up within the week, but comas were still dangerous and mysterious, even in the presence of the medical incredibility of Wakanda. 

Steve stole his gaze away from the front window as Peggy sighed from his shoulder, passed out in a light sleep. The Quinjet was quite fast, but it was still a few hours between New York and the hidden African country. Bruce and Natasha were seated across from them, whispering things inaudible, but Steve could guess it was good when Natasha subconsciously gave a toothy smile as Bruce whispered something in her ear. 

Wanda had fallen asleep almost as soon as they took off, laid across two and a half seats as well as Vision's lap. He was lovingly stroking her brown locks as she released deep, peaceful breaths. Vision smiled as he skillfully leaned down and kissed her cheek without disturbing her. 

Steve returned his gaze to the front of the plane watching as the Quinjet glided through the air, guided by the careful, calculated abilities of FRIDAY, Tony’s AI assistant ever since Sokovia. They were about ten minutes away from Wakanda from his estimation, so he carefully put Peggy against the seat, keeping her in rest. He stood up and got closer to the window. Below he saw the luscious green trees and sparse yellow plains of Africa below slowly scrolled past the window. Eventually, FRIDAY announced,

"We're now approaching Wakanda, Captain. Yeh may want to wake up everyone," Steve nodded absentmindedly before quietly giving thanks to the Irish AI. He quietly took his seat next to Peggy again and gently shook her small shoulder. She opened her eyes quickly, almost as if she hadn't been sleeping. He whispered to her,

"We're almost to Wakanda, maybe five more minutes," Peggy nodded tiredly and shook herself awake. Cap brushed by Bruce and Nat and came up to Vision, telling him they were close to landing. The android nodded slowly before beginning to wake Wanda. 

Steve slowly felt the Quinjet descend onto the pad just outside of the Vibranium mine. Almost like a giddy child, he took a look out of the window into the mine. Deep inside complicated machinery moved around and sped by, surrounded by the otherworldly night-blue glow of the raw Vibranium. He smiled as a long supersonic train guided by white-lit panels ran by, carrying hundreds- if not thousands- of pounds of the super-metal.

The jet landed with suspended recoil upon the surface, with Vision and Wanda waiting by the large door at the back of the plane. It slowly opened, allowing the shimmering Wakandan light into the artificially-lit ship. Together they departed, followed by Bruce and Natasha. Steve and Peggy followed shortly thereafter, leaving the jet empty as FRIDAY closed the gate behind them.

Shuri, the genius inventor princess, greeted them, dressed in casual clothes. Behind her was Bucky and Rhodey, who were both passed by Natasha, Bruce, Vision and Wanda as they were on their way to the barracks that were their temporary quarters. Bucky waved to Steve while Rhodey stood still with crossed arms and a worried expression, anxious about the status of his friend.

“How is he?” He asked as he looked to Steve, who shook his head disparagingly. Rhodey grimaced but nodded slowly. Almost subconsciously, he began a preoccupied with thought trek back to the barracks, following the other four slowly. Shuri was silent for a moment before Bucky carefully broke it.

“Shuri wanted to show you something, Steve,” Rogers nodded as he turned his gaze to the princess, who half-smiled. She nodded for the three to follow them. Peggy peered down the hole of the mine, staring in wonder at the shimmering blue metal embedded within the walls of the bottomless hole. She quickly caught up to the two super-soldiers and the surprisingly fast-walking princess as a falcon-like ship settled in front of them. Shuri quickly entered, followed by Steve, Bucky and Peggy. The ship glided over the hole of the mine before beginning a surprisingly fast descent.

The small air vehicle- powered by interestingly quiet Vibranium engines- hit a small pad, allowing the four to exit. They then entered Shuri's deceptively large laboratory, filled with prototypes and designs of clothing, miscellaneous technology, and a surprisingly increased amount of weapon designs. She casually- almost too casually- brisked by the dangerous-looking prototypes and approached two others on black, crystalline pedestals with special tags in front.

The leftmost design was a pair of twin diamond-shaped thick black plates, with ornate silver lines bolstering the surfaces further. They were clearly updated versions of the shields Rogers had used during the Thanos Attack of 2018, but larger in size, more silver decorations and thicker altogether. The plate in front of it was labelled, 'Cpt. Rogers'. Beside it on the left was a prosthetic; a left arm with a ‘Sgt. Barnes’ plate in front. Unlike every other artificial arm Bucky had used, it was designed to perfectly emulate human flesh and muscle, disturbingly realistic.

“I have consulted with my brother and he proposed that since your shield broke, Captain, that you be allowed to temporarily use these shields," Steve nodded unsurely, not moving from his position beside Peggy. Shuri groaned and picked up one of the shields. She somewhat struggled to lift the left-handed plate but managed to throw it to Rogers, who caught it effortlessly. As the defensive tool flew it folded into itself in a blink and Steve slipped it on at Shuri’s silent behest. It was small in its new form, about the width of Rogers’ wrist. But, when a button on the side of the tight strap, it extended with a hydraulic blast of sound, like an air-pop gun. At its full size, the shield was about two-thirds of a meter long, a fair amount larger than the previous version of the diamond-shaped shields.

Steve admired the new shield as Shuri began speaking to Bucky.

"And Searge- Bucky- I have made a prototype. This prosthetic arm for you, to replace the one you are currently using. While it is a prototype, the final design will be much more comprehensive and accurate,” While Shuri spoke, Bucky approached the arm in quiet amazement. Indeed, it was almost perfect- the texture, the warmth, the essence was beautiful. He ran his right hand along the false bicep in silent admiration of her work. He looked back up to her shaking his head.

"No, I can't take this or the updated one." Bucky's left fist tightened, and it would have gone almost completely unnoticed by him if it wasn't for a quick flick of his brown eyes.  It was hard to miss Shuri's surprise and disappointment but she nodded shortly, however, Bucky continued hurriedly with a look of realization and, "But I know someone who can." All four present within the lab looked to him with slight looks of questioning before near-simultaneous realizations hit.

Tony.

Barracks

Wanda, Vision, Steve and Bruce were gathered around a small table, debating where they would stay now that the Facility was destroyed. For now, they were within Wakanda, but they all knew that it would be better to move out before they overstayed their welcome, despite T'Challa's kind assertions of impossibility in that regard. They had been arguing their lodgings for damn well over two hours now. Wanda was holding her head with a small headache, Vision comforting her and occasionally adding or rebutting. Steve and Bruce were arguing with each other wholeheartedly yet with understandings, acting as a devil's advocate for the other's ideas.

Wanda spoke up with an idea, “What if we go underground-” She used her thin fingers to make quotations- “like Vision and I did?” Rogers nodded towards her consideringly, as did Vision. Bruce, however, shook his head. Vision looked to him as if to ask what he was considering

“No dice,” He responded, “Even if half of us find other places to live, that’s still six or seven people to keep in one place for as long as it’ll take to rebuild the Facility,” Vision was slightly taken aback at Banner’s nonchalant mention of their destroyed home.

“The Facility is indeed being reconstructed?” He asked, Wanda nodded to his question. Steve looked to Banner and wordlessly ushered him to answer.

“Yeah, Pepper’s gettin’ Stark Industries’ best guys on it, but even then it’ll take damn well near three years. It’s not gonna be easy to find residence for all of us,” As he finished, Steve’s brow furrowed.

“How many have homes?” Bruce was confused at the question, his expression asking Steve to elaborate. “You said ‘even if half of us find places,’ but some of use already have places. Who had a place already?” Bruce nodded in understanding, before turning to the whiteboard behind him. He opened a black marker and scribbled down the word, ‘Home’. 

“Scott, Hope,” He began.

“Sam, Rhodey,” Steve added. Bruce also added Tony, Pepper and Strange.

“Thor and Loki are with the Guardians of the Galaxy, and Miss Valkyrie is within New Asgard- perhaps we could go there?” Vision added. Steve shook his head.

“They don’t have enough places. They only built what they needed,” Vision nodded, looking to Banner’s list instead. “Now, let’s make a list of all those we have to relocate,” Banner began another list on the other side of the board labelled, ‘Find’. He added himself, the Captain, Romanoff- who was currently asleep in a room down the hall- Wanda and Vision. He turned back to the other, offering for them to add to the list.

“Bucky,” Steve added in a small voice. “Peggy.” Bruce scrawled out the names then capped the marker with a click. The list was comprehensive enough for now, but it was then that the rather old phone in Steve's pocket began ringing. He quickly exited the room as the other continued listing names and giving ideas. Steve looked at the number, quickly identifying it as Pepper's. Immediately, his mind went into overdrive with panic.

Was it about Tony? Had he taken a turn for the worse? What had happened? He quickly answered and asked, "Pepper, what happened? Is Tony okay?" Pepper was silent for a moment, unwittingly allowing Steve's despair to grow.

"Tony's fine- still not… Cognisant, but he's stable. But Cap, you need to get your team together," Steve's brain path suddenly whiplashed from Tony to his team. 

"Pepper, you know that's not possible right now. We can't fight- not in the state some of us are in," What threat had possibly emerged now that required the whole team? Most of which was unavailable anyway; Natasha and Wanda were still majorly reeling from Clint's death just over a week ago, as was Rhodey for Danvers', Lang and Van Dyne were reconciling and catching up with Scott's daughter Cassie and God help anyone who interrupted that, Tony was still in hospital- No, it was just impossible, or it would be next to. 

"No, Steve," Her voice sounded sharp and impatient, almost vindictive, "I mean tell them to pack up their stuff." Steve remained silent, the quiet over the line ushering Potts to expand on ber words. "I found somewhere for you. You know that old Stark warehouse in Queens- where we had to put the Mark Forty-Nine a few years ago?" Steve's brain made the connection as Pepper spoke.

"Wait, you packed that up?" Pepper gave a note of confirmation as Steve thought. If Pepper had actually repurposed the facility then that certainly made some things easier. 

"Yeah, some of Stark's best people got it fully cleared out." Pepper tacked on quickly. Steve's snarky smile at her sudden addition apparently translated through the phone as the woman on the other end was tensely silent. 

"What about Stark's best girl?" Steve asked slyly, pressuring Pepper to complete her unfinished answer. She was silent for a moment before she cracked and admitted with a rather frustrated tone,

"Alright fine, the Mark Eighty-Four was a huge help during clean-up. Happy?" Steve smiled and thanked Pepper before she hung up. He blew out a sigh and leaned against the wall. He debilitated the fact that they now had some effective housing. He smiled before re-entering the room, attracting the attention of the other three.

"Bruce, erase it," He spoke. Banner looked to him confusedly before looking back to the two lists. Vision and Wanda also looked to him with odd looks, coaxing him to elaborate. 

"Captain Rogers?" Vision asked warily. Steve smiled.

Queens, New York

Once again the Avengers Quinjet shot through the air. Inside was Rogers, Banner, a drowsy Romanoff, Maximoff, Rhodes, Barnes, Carter and Vision. They were currently above Queens, New York, quickly approaching the land zone for the old warehouse. As the slowing air vehicle slowed and breached through the clouds, Downtown Queens came into view. It was populated heavily, with thick hordes of people moving like viscous jelly through the establishments. The Quinjet passed over building and people, casting a faint shadow and attracting many gazes.

The buildings suddenly broke off into a more industrial area, with factories and warehouses instead of markets and shops. Among the other warehouses appeared a building with the signature red 'A' inside a circle of the Avengers. It was rather crudely painted atop a sunbleached roof, however one word still remained under the 'A'.

'STARK'. It had been another Stark warehouse from the seventies, but it had definitely not been modernized and updated like the Facility had- it could be told from the dark disposition of the walls and the dusty, unused appearance. But, it would have to do. 

The Quinjet passed over the warehouse to a large concrete runway. The jet slowly descended under the landing equipment touched down and the engines quieted. The Avengers emerged from the jet, each carrying a box of their belongings. They weren’t too large, nor were they at all heavy. Being an Avenger was rather perilous, and personal attacks- as proved by The Mandarin, Thanos, and even Scott Lang to a certain degree- were a very real possibility, and therefore everyone that had chosen to live within the facility- that wasn’t Tony Stark who owned thirteen separate houses just for every day of the week- hadn’t owned too much. 

Steve spearheaded the group, a small box held under his right arm. He approached the door, when a sudden sonic boom from high above dully echoed. They all looked up, shielding their eyes from the sun. Pepper- dressed in her purple suit- slammed onto the ground, cracking the concrete underneath her. She rose, the suit boosting height to just a few inches taller than Steve. 

The suit was slim and tight, glittering a deep luscious purple. Several small Arc Reactors dotted the surface of the metal, glowing white. Over Pepper's heart rested a large triangular reactor with squared corners, glowing brightest of them all. Her helmet wore an intimidating glare, the thin eyes copying the glow of the many reactors. What was usually coloured gold was now a soothing light silver, bringing an overall more feminine verdict of the suit.

Her right hand rose and the suit suddenly began fragmenting off of her body. The hand and forearms went first and rocketed off somewhere towards the roof, followed by the arms and shoulders, her chest and back. The thighs and calves of the suit were joined by a crotch piece and a rear plate. Soon enough, Pepper stood before them in a smart black business suit. Below the suit was a crisply pressed white button-up and a navy blue tie. Her face was more pale than usual, starkly contrasting her rose-red lipstick. It was clear that while she was attempting to return to her regular life, her husband's state was drawing heavy impacts. Pepper smiled weakly and guided them wordlessly to a metal door with a hole next to a small glowing keycard lock. 

From her pocket she drew a small black card with 'STARK' printed on it in clean white lettering. Pepper deftly slid the card through the red-lit slit and it flashed green with a heavy, dull yet full mechanical clunk. The door beeped once and a handle popped out of the hole. She turned it and pressed the door open. 

Inside was huge and rectangular, incredibly faint marks, depressions and skids on the walls, indicating where heavy technology, machinery and furniture had found over forty or fifty years of purchase. Despite the initial disposition, the emptied warehouse was clean and neat. The usually grey concrete walls had been painted a subtle cream, and the floor was tiled with dark brown false wood designs. In the center of the large space was a large, round table with some of Tony's holographic tech built in, evidenced by the large blue light emanating from the center of the table. Circled around it were quite a few simple chairs of black leather, two three-seat couches and a loveseat. Embedding in the walls around the building was the typical amenities of a house; a sink and stove top surrounded by cupboards and counter-space- dark-foloured granite speckled with light grey specks- a small island sat nearby the counters, another sink within, a rather large rectangular box extending from the corner opposite with a white door, which obviously led to a spacious washroom.

One thing the Captain of the Avengers noticed was a large metal staircase to the near left of them maybe five meters along the twenty  meter wall, leading to an underground section of their new lodgings. He closed the gap between their group and the stairs a few quick strides and peered down it. About eight steps down there was a landing that led to another eight steps to a subterranean level.

“What’s down there, Pepper?” Bruce asked, shifting the small box under his arm slightly. Natasha’s head was against him, her fiery hair sprawling over his shoulder. Her eyes rested shut and her breathing held steady. 

"The, uh- The residential area. That's were all the rooms are. They are kinda small but there are enough for all of you." Her replies were slow and quiet, but Steve simply nodded and moved back. He looked to Pepper and shook her comparatively small hand.

"Thank you, Pepper. We needed this," She smiled and nodded. Rogers stood before his team and smiled knowingly. They all left to the lower levels and began to move themselves in.

Wanda's Room

The fit brunette sat herself down onto the red-blanketed bed within the room of their new home. The room was larger than Pepper had made it seem, but it was surely smaller than her room in the old Facility. The walls were painted a genteel cream and the floor was roughly carpeted with a hard-sewn fabric. The faint scent of must and mothballs seemingly permeated the entire building, but it was tolerable and Wanda was sure she would adjust to it in a few weeks of living. The smell would simply become background, especially if she used some of the air fresheners Pepper occasionally recommended.

The bed under her was actually quite nice; a thick, sturdy mattress that had just enough give to be perfectly comfortable atop a solid wood boxspring which was in turn nestled into a dark metal bed frame with two wooden boards- a small one at the foot of the bed and a more comprehensive one at the head. She breathed a sigh as her sparse decorations lit the walls.

A few artworks and statuettes rested on nails and basic shelves, a new acoustic guitar from Pepper as an unexpected housewarming gift, a box of CD's and a battery-operated, headphone-compatible small stereo rested in the corner opposite her bed within the rightmost corner, across the room from the repainted metal door.

The door.

The door was the only thing she disliked. It reminded her far too accurately- and therefore uncomfortably- of the small, glorified box Baron Strucker had contained her and her brother in almost nine years ago. Even though they had both volunteered for them the experience was closer to a nightmare than reality, however cliche that was to admit to herself. It had been a Hell that had only been comparable to three other events within her life: The bombing of their Sokovian apartments, Pietro's death in the then-levitating Sokovia and Vision's death in Wakanda. 

There were times during lonely and depressive nights that Wanda felt cursed, felt like she cursed anyone and everyone who loved her. The truest and most repetitive Hell her mind had tortured her had been the excruciating Vanishing nightmares. When she began turning to dust after her failure, she truly wished to embrace it. As her hands felt Vision's body for what she had expected- hoped- to be the last time, she slowly felt her legs numb. She remembered slowly arching her spine as if to embrace the quite welcome and desired death before her consciousness evaporated just like her body.

Everyone else had apparently experienced peaceful and tranquil dreams of happiness, truest desire and quiet contemplation, leaving Wanda as the sole soul to only one to have an even more justified reason to fear her sleep. Whenever she had closed her eyes over the past week she had immediately opened them again, if only to confirm that she was indeed still where she had fallen asleep.The paranoia was developing into insomnia, leading to her leaving her room in the barracks at all hours of the night, her mental irritation heating the air around her. When she would inevitably find herself in the common room Vision would be standing there, waiting.

The first time her insomnia had struck, she had walked in on Vision when he was deep into a book…

Wakandan Barracks

Wanda suddenly shot from her bed, her back more stiff than any of Stark’s suits. Her forehead was covered in cool, sticky sweat and her gasps were shallow and sharp. Her mouth was dry and sore from the mumbles and dulled shouts in her sleep. The brown eyes that were usually calm and wide were pinpricks, and what little colour could usually be found in Wanda’s pale, fragile skin was completely gone, leaving her more pale than her white sheet. The dream had returned, the same dream from her death. Vision, being strangled, mutilated and killed over and over, like a devastating loop that her mind didn’t allow her to forget. 

Her vision shot around the dark room, identifying everything around her. There were a few paintings on her wall, a few statuettes on a shelf and-

What was that? It was thick around the bottom with a tall neck and head, two thin legs below it. It stood perfectly still in the corner of her room, when suddenly two glowing eyes ignited with a quiet snarl. If her throat hadn't been so dry she would have screamed and awakened everyone in a ten mile radius. But, a long huff of hot air emerged and Wanda threw her blanket over her head after throwing a spark of her scarlet energy at the creature. 

As she hid under the sheet and prayed to every God she knew, the creature made an odd sound as it fell. The best way to describe was almost like an elastic band snapping but in a higher pitch. 

'That had to have done something to it,' Wanda thought, 'What even is it? How did it get in here?' She steeled her fleeing resolve and peeked out from under the white sheet over her, casting a few strands of her flaming projections which cast a gentle red glow over the room. The strings reached the fallen creature, revealing…

Her light brown acoustic guitar. Her powers had knocked it off of its stand and snapped the third string in the center. As the realization settled, Wanda put her head in her hands and suddenly she was fighting tears. This kind of occurrence was guaranteed every night, leaving her too paranoid to even try to fall asleep again that night. It was leading to a perpetual, vicious cycle of early mornings, short patiences, and her eventual collapse typically just after dinner. Afterward the cycle would restart and bite down harder and harder on her psyche, until one day it would bend. 

Wanda sighed and flipped her legs over the edge of her bed. She hesitated, the childhood fear of a monster grabbing her feet overtaking her. She painfully cleared her throat and allowed herself to stand. But, her system was caught off-guard when her feet touched the cold floor. She stood and became still for a moment. She blinked away any tears she felt, just in case anyone else was awake. She carefully creaked open her door and snuck out into the small hallway. The silence was peaceful yet tense, as the dark ends of the corridors could quite literally hold any monster of Wanda's imagination.

But, it was the simple flit of a book's lage that made Wanda jump. She turned quickly, stealthily igniting small glowing orbs within her palms. She bit her dry lips as she moved forwards at her slowest pace, ready to vaporize whatever sat in the common room ahead of her. Another flit echoed as she passed through the invisible barrier of the common room, but this one was also followed by a British-accented whisper of a Romanian word that translated to 'rode'. It was repeated a few times, as if the voice was trying to learn Romanian. Wanda slowly continued through the room, casting one of her ruby beams across the remaining distance  between her and her unknown figure. The beams traveled slowly, careful not to alert whoever was reading. But, almost as if the universe did truly spite her, her powers flared and the beams made bright sparks. Immediately she cut the connection and her beams vanished. Her muscles stiffened to near intolerable levels and her teeth began grinding themselves.

Still she stood, so still she could barely breathe. She strained her hearing to listen for a sound of any kind, but nothing came. After a moment or two of nothing, she relaxed her muscles again and quietly breathed the breath she had been holding. Slowly, she began re-extending her power again when-

“Hello, Wanda.” The British voice said nonchalantly. Her powers- like a valve to water- shut off, the slight ruby glow that had been cast disappearing. Suddenly, a nearby shape shifted and two silver lights appeared, with dark circles in the middle. She sighed deeply when she realized who it was. “Friday?” The voice asked.

Orange lights began building, only slightly brighter than the red glow Wanda’s powers cast. Vision sat on a chair nearby a dark coffee table, dressed in a fine black sweater overtop a white pressed shirt as well as black dress pants and shiny dark shoes. Wanda suddenly felt underdressed in an oversized black shirt and loose red shorts. Vision used his powers gained from the false Mind Stone embedded in his forehead to bring another chair beside himself before motioning to the seat with his book. Wanda moved over and sat beside him as he resumed his reading. She peered over at his reading, somewhat surprised.

It was a classic piece of Romanian literature, something she suspected Vision was using to learn Romanian. Since Vision still retained the intelligence of forty supercomputers thanks to Helen Cho’s advanced robotics research, he still had access to the Internet. He could easily just run his speech through a translator and simply speak that language, but he was actually taking his time to learn the language, even if it was at a superior rate.

But, the most significant thing about Vizh learning Romanian is the fact that Wanda was the only one in the base who knew Romanian.

“Vizh, why are you trying to learn Romanian?” Vision brought his face up from the pages and swallowed, even if it was just a simple reassuratory tool. She looked at his eyes from the side, beckoning him to return the gaze. He turned to look into her eyes, searching himself for a good answer. After a few moments of a loving stare he replied,

“Well, I wish… Share secrets with you, and since our telepathic link is… No longer possible, I have deduced that Romanian would be a sufficient replacement for our mental communications…” His face begged her for a response in some of the most subtle ways that only she could notice; the slight furrowing of the brow, the slight twinkle of questioning behind his eyes, the ways they darted over her eyes, looking for a similar sparkle. She smiled slightly in an attempt to bring Vision’s mood up. He returned the smile warily.

“Vision, that’s beautiful.” His smile rose at her words and he turned back to the book. After a silent moment of rearing he repeated the word in Romanian

"Frumos,"

Warehouse

Wanda smiled at the memory when who else walked in- well, more like leisurely phased through the wall. He was dressed casually, with a flawless black shirt and dress pants.

"Miss Maximoff." Vision's properness bubbled her heart in such a way that she couldn't even stay mad. However, she would still remind him, even if she was chuckling throughout.

"Vizh," She said in a joking warning tone, "What do I keep saying?" Vision looked confused for a moment before nodding. He phased back out the all he came in. Wanda laughed at his action, before suddenly her door closed. She jumped, but quickly after came a small knock. She smiled and approached the door, opening it to Vision's face. His pose reminded her less of a fearless mechanical Avenger and more of a schoolboy meeting his sweetheart's father for the first time. He looked meek, quiet.

When he met her eyes again, they peered deeper into her than he usually did, so deep it would feel alien and violating if it had been anyone else. But, it was Vision, her Vision, her Vision she thought she lost. Seeing him alive and full was not only relieving but also reassuring, almost therapeutic actually. He looked further into her, almost as if it would immortalize them both, keep them within those seconds eternally. 

But, as time passed, Wanda didn't realize Vision getting closer until his warm lips pressed against hers. Usually, his kisses were gentle and caressing, causing her to gasp in surprise when his body forcefully pressed against hers. Though she had absolutely no arguments as Vision closed the door behind them and turned to force her against it, holding her hands above her head. 

He broke the kiss and began moving down her flesh, running down her jaw and under it to her soft, supple neck. He latched on to her neck and sucked, running his tongue up and down, making her squirm and wriggle fruitlessly under his unfazeable grasp. She moaned throatily into his mouth when he moved one hand from her wrists and cascaded it down her body to her thighs, teasingly rubbing the inner surface of her thigh. Thank God she had indeed gone for her black skirt over a pair of light jeans this morning, as well as a red sweater.

Vision ran his hand over her warm, beating sex. It sent a particularly heavy pulse, telling Vision that she was all but begging from her current restricted position. He smiled slyly at Wanda, who was a particularly lewd magma-red shade of flush in the face from pleasure. Vision traced her clothed, damp slit with two fingers, allowing Wanda to embrace the pleasure before he painfully stole his fingers away. 

He pulled hem up along her curves and edges; up her hip bone, painstakingly across her abs, embracing every feature before finally reaching the curvature of her breasts. He reached the apex of the black metal zipper before agonizingly slowly pulling it back down her torso. Shadows appeared as he passed her breasts, her arms' inclined positions unfortunately keeping her pink nipples hidden from his starving gaze. Wanda bit her bottom lip in preparation. 

Vision suddenly pulled her back and flew to her bed, now lying atop her but still keeping his grip on her wrists. It wasn't too forceful but it had the power it needed to convince her that he was in control. The force of the flight caused her sweater to flutter off of her chest, revealing her fine, toned abdomen, alluring and distractingly arousing bone curves, and of course, her beautiful, erect breasts that bounced and jiggled paralyzingly from the flight. Her pink, hard nipples were like mountains rising from the base of her dainty areolas. Vision deftly kept her wrists in place with one hand and used the other to spread Wanda's legs. Her black underwear stared at Vision, a depression in the center of two slight lumps signifying where her burning desire lay. The orange light caught a small glisten of her arousal from where her sacred  opening rested. He gently moved two fingers over her hidden vagina, sending stinging electric shocks down her spine and leaving it tingling.

Wanda moaned as Vision repeated his sensual movements, her squirming and whining intensifying as Vision's actions became more assertive and aggressive. Wanda bucked her hips into his hand, begging for more forceful and effective ministrations. Vision sighed calmly before he slowly moved Wanda's gentle black underwear down her thick yet slender legs, the dark fabric tantalizingly contrasting her toned, pale skin.

"Tu, Wanda, ești frumoasă…" He reassured.

"Frumos…" She echoed.

To Be Continued...