The labs were heavily-shielded, mostly thanks to Tony's love of blowing things up. Prior to Billy's arrival, she'd spent the most time down here when Vision had been damaged. He was still here, recovering from an attempt by Ultron to override his programming, but Wanda had not been a welcome visitor.

She shook herself out of her reverie, and caught Bruce looking at her knowingly before he gave her one of his gentle little smiles and turned on the projector. "I've never had the opportunity to sequence your genes, Wanda," he said, so blandly that she fought back a laugh. "But it was an interesting project, especially looking where your mutation emerged-" He broke off self-consciously, fidgeting with the remote. "So. Mutations and the human genome." He gave another of those gentle smiles to Billy, who was sitting with his arms folded over his chest. The teen relaxed a tiny bit, some of the preoccupied defensiveness easing.

"Most common mutations don't actually affect humans in any particular way: you could say that we're all mutants in that sense. That said, capital-M Mutants tend to have biochemical mutations that have no phenotypic - or visible changes in the human body - differences, with exceptions." He clicked the remote, and an image of Angel appeared on the screen, side-by-side with a shot of Mystique. Billy shifted uncomfortably.

"Given that mutants tend to express their powers in their teenage years, most are environmentally-triggered, usually due to the chemicals of stress. That seems to have been what triggered yours, Billy?"

He sat up straight, clearing his throat and jerking his gaze away from the picture of Angel. "Um. Yes, Mr. Banner."

The display changed, this time rotating into a double-helix that both of them recognized. Bruce zoomed in. "When a baby's made, genes are usually shuffled, like a deck of cards, so we test by comparing what sequences were copied. There are other tests as well. For example, mitochondrial DNA, or mtDNA, is transmitted by the mother, unshuffled, to all her children. It's how we tracked the migration of people out of Africa and still track matrilineal descent. It was one of the tests I ran."

He paused, looking down at his remote again. "We have found different groups based on different mutations in the mtDNA, and they're called haplogroups. It's still a developing field, and fraught with accusations, as is a lot of genetics- anyway." Bruce looked first at Wanda. "You are part of haplogroup U3." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "Romani groups, mostly." He turned to Billy. "Rebecca Kaplan is haplogroup K. You are, however, haplogroup U3."

Billy's hands were white-knuckled on the sides of his chair, but Wanda didn't dare touch him. "So," he began slowly, "that means that I'm not related to my mom? And that I'm kind of some weird… surrogate-birth-son?" He stopped clutching his chair, gesturing to his chest, then flinging a hand sideways at Wanda. She could feel the panic swirling around him, and was already moving when Bruce crouched in front of Billy.

"No." The one word was calm and firm, and Billy settled a little, though his eyes were still suspiciously bright. For all his fears, Bruce would have been a good parent. "You are related to your mothers - both of them. This can happen even without the involvement of chaos magic." He smiled again, and Billy relaxed further. His tone was droll as he continued, "There's a reason that the Scarlet Witch is not allowed down here during delicate experiments, or ones that involve proving a rare probability." Bruce glanced at her, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Oh, and you weren't grateful that you wound up with that pure a version of Unobtanium?" Wanda shot back, and was encouraged by a faint laugh from Billy. "But this is something related to what we were talking about earlier, Billy. Unintended consequences."

"Yeah. No offense, this is as weird as hell. Kind of cool, though. Can you teach AP Bio at my school?" The last was with a cheeky, if strained, grin for Bruce. Billy took a deep breath. "Okay, moving on. What's the rest of the weirdness?"

Bruce stood up, turning back to the displays. A wave of his hand shifted it to another screen. "I don't think the school board would be willing to certify me as a teacher, unfortunately. While your mitochondrial DNA is not a match for Rebecca Kaplan's, you do share many sequences with her. So you are her son as well - no fear of losing your heritage. You just gain another. Regardless-" He turned to another display, this one of a sequence of letters and numbers. "Wanda's mutation is largely located here. It's one of the sequences that copied over to you, with some oddities-" He paused. "-not dangerous, but it might be related to just how you were, err…" Another pause. "Originally conceived. How did that work again, Wanda?"

Wanda arched an eyebrow. "When one person loves another, there are interesting methods to show it-" She glanced sidelong at her son.

Billy was slowly turning red. Perfect.

"-but without an addition from Vision-" There was a choking noise from Billy. "-I used the excess magic to create them both… well." She broke off there, thinking back to seeing her children being absorbed back in Mephisto. She faltered, then said, softly, "I think you would simply call it shuffling my own DNA?"

"Oh, like an asari!" Billy exclaimed, then coughed. "It's… from a video game. Never mind."

Bruce's eyebrows were nearly in his hairline, but he shook his startlement off and moved onwards. "Regardless, some of that shuffling seems to have remained, and merged with natural conception methods. There's been some discussion of creating triple-parent embryos before, but in this case, it seems you've been a few steps ahead of cutting-edge science, Wanda."

"Tony would call it cheating on so many levels," she sighed.

Briefly, Bruce's lined face was transformed by a sly smile. "I can hear the spluttering from here." He cleared his throat, and his expression slipped back into his usual bland neutrality. "All of this boils down to, quite simply, yes, you are the son of the Scarlet Witch. You are also Billy Kaplan, son of Rebecca Kaplan." He cleared his throat, turning back to the display and closing it down with a swipe of his hand. He glanced back, and there was that humorous glint again. "Welcome to the family."

Billy didn't seem to know how to take that one. He was watching Wanda with his head cocked slightly, expression thoughtful. "'Them both'?" he asked.

"You had… have a twin brother. If whatever reincarnated you also gathered him… we'll find him soon."

"Whoa. So I've got a gigantic family now. Cool. Wait, do I have to get birthday presents for everyone?"

"... please don't get presents for your grandfather. He is best off not knowing you exist."

"How about my… uh. What do I call the Vision?"

Wanda closed her eyes against the sting of tears, then opened them at the feel of a warm hand covering both of hers. "Sorry," Billy said. "Divorce sucks majorly when it's a normal divorce. I guess it'd be worse like this."

"It's been a long time. And Vision is not the person I married then, through no fault of either of ours," Wanda reassured him, slipping her hands out from under his and turning the light clasp into a hug. She kissed the top of his head. "I did not forget you. And I am so happy that you have been happy all this time."

Uncomfortably, Billy wiggled out of the hug. "Yeah, well. Happy enough. My life still sucks sometimes. But you know, you always made it better." He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "You gave me the courage to stand up to that bully that day, you know. I decided not to run. Still not going to run, either."

Vision had refused much help in repairing himself, with the lack of Hank Pym to intervene. He preferred the cool, quiet logic of speaking with JARVIS and monitoring the readouts when his repair processes allowed him to split the energy. JARVIS had emotions, but they had logic behind them. They were not chaotic, they did not cause logic faults in his programming.

He didn't really need a body to exist as a sentient, after all. A body brought back memories of it being far too easy to be hijacked, and a rogue process teased at his databanks: wasn't this what Wanda felt like with magic, sometimes?

He quietly deleted it and returned to his serenity, looking over the readouts. He was aware of the tests that Dr. Banner had been running, but the memories and possibilities were distant rather than the faintly-remembered delight at hearing the news of Wanda's pregnancy. Dr. Banner had spoken to him of it, but he had quickly turned that discussion into one of a newly-released theoretical physics paper.

There had been more instances of creatures out of time showing up across New York. He checked the patterns against historical data, found no correlation. JARVIS dropped a package of information from Iron Man's on-site sensors into his databanks, and they exchanged hypotheses.

There was nothing conclusive yet, so Vision shut down most of his processes in favor of repairing his body.

Time flies like an arrow.

Ensconced in a comfortable chair with a drink in hand, Victor Timely watched the monitors from his hidden base near the town of Timely.

On one, a woman wreathed in scarlet meditated, her power flaring and fading with each breath, echoed by a blue-white power that surrounded a dark-haired boy.

On another, the buildings were sleek and smooth, and children played with toys that shifted as they shook them. One boy was playing a stimuloid, when some larger children snatched it up and started a game of keep-away.

Still another showed a Roman legion, bristling with spears and shields, wandering the familiar confines of Central Park. This one, he saluted with his glass, then stood, his clothing shifting from early-1900s to purple, green, and blue. He tapped the monitor showing the boy trying to get his synthezoid doll back.

In the next moment, he vanished, and reappeared on the monitor. A moment later, both Kang the Conqueror and Nathaniel Richards vanished into the timestream.

"Oh, this is getting ridiculous," Hawkeye groaned, staring at the red cloaks of the Romans below. "Do we have anyone who speaks, uh… Roman? So we don't have to fight the guys with spears and swords?"

Tying Mjollnir to his belt, Thor stepped forward, holding his hands up to show that they were empty. Hawkeye often forgot Thor, while prone to outbursts, was also a prince; he had had diplomacy and training dinned into his head. And he also had the Allspeak. "Fear not, brave mortals! We shall return you to your homeland anon. Does any among you have an item they do not recognize?"

Some of the bristling defense shifted as a man wearing his sword on the left stepped out of the wall of shields. He spoke to Thor, and held out a small, brightly-colored box. "He says it was discovered in a fort in Gaulia, and the gods brought them here through it," Thor translated.

A swirl of red in the corner of his eye heralded the arrival of the Scarlet Witch. The centurions flinched away, some touching symbols around their necks. Captain America's gloves creaked as his grip tightened on the shield. "Another?" the Scarlet Witch asked, looking over the crowd. "At least they are easy to return to their homes."

"This time they actually have the thing that got them here," Hawkeye called. "And it ain't from around there, so to speak."

The centurion was not an idiot by any stretch of the imagination; he watched all of them, then shook his head slightly and gestured, holding the device out to Thor.

When he took it, a stark white light flashed, leaving Central Park empty of superheroes or Roman legions.

Across the city, a slimmer, younger version of Kang the Conqueror stumbled out of a portal, shaking his head. "I won't," he was gasping. "I won't."

He looked up, and his armor chimed, informing him that he was in the twenty-first century and did he require help, as his heartbeat was higher than advised-

Nathaniel Richards shut off the armor, then staggered out of the alleyway, nearly running into several passers-by. "Sorry! Excuse me! Where are the Avengers?" he began asking.

Eventually, he got some help, and found himself staring up at the gates to Avengers Mansion, currently dark and quiet. When he activated the armor, he could see security screens - easily bypassed by his armor, but he was here for help, not to break in - and no-one moving within.

There was a whisper through the screens of his armor, and a pale outline of a synthezoid emerged from the grass on the other side of the gates. He turned off the armor's display with a thought, and the figure vanished. A digital projection into his armor, then.

"You're the Vision!" he blurted out, and nearly slammed his hand against his forehead. Awesome. "I need help!"

The Vision stayed impassive. "My body is damaged, and the currently-active Avengers are unable to aid you at this time. You are not of this time. Your armor has the same signature as that which transported the Avengers, and moreover, is that of Kang the Conqueror."

"I am not him. I won't ever be him!"

The emotion did not seem to touch the Vision. "Why do you require help?"

"Because I can't become him. I need the Avengers."

"They are not currently available."

Nate clenched his fists as his armor continued to feed him warnings about his heart rate and blood pressure. "The Avengers are the only ones who have really fought Kang! Give me information to find them!" His armor gave up the attempt to warn him and followed his order: it linked with the Vision's projection and pulled out information. If the Avengers couldn't help him, then there was a failsafe program-

He withdrew the armor's probes with a wrench of will. "I'm sorry," he gasped. "How are you- whoa." The Vision's ghost hadn't vanished, but had strengthened. His memories remained in Nate's armor.

"This does not differ notably from my own body, which is non-functional," the Vision informed him. "I will help you, if you aid in locating and returning the Avengers to the present. I would suggest seeking out these people as yourself, instead of in your current guise. They all have a connection to the Avengers, though they may be unaware of it themselves."

A map displayed in front of him, labelled with names. Some were as far away as Vietnam; others were in New York City:

Josiah Bradley

Theodore Altman

William Kaplan

"It's a start," he said.