"Let's go, Cap!" Bucky quipped as the two of them rounded a corner. Steve held his shield at chest height in one hand, and primed a grenade in the other. Meanwhile Bucky fired his rifle, spraying the three closest Nazi's with bullets. He forced them back as Steve tossed his grenade high, towards a Tank that had yet to properly turn it's barrel towards them.
The grenade exploded, disabling the Tank as the two soldiers sprinted from cover, knowing that their position was known to the enemy. Luckily, both men where excellent runners, and managed to avoid being seen by the incoming German reinforcements.
"Boy that was close," Bucky chuckled as the two of them leaned against a stone wall. "Just like back home when we stole that apple pie from Mr. Pinkerton's shop!"
"You stole it," Steve reminded him. "But blamed me. And his wife caught us, remember?"
"Yeah," Bucky replied with a grin as he re-loaded. "Which is why I hope they shoot you and not me!"
Steve nodded his response as he heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway. The first set of guns turned around the corner when suddenly-
"Cap, are you alright?"
He snapped out of his trip down memory lane. With a shake of his head, he opened his eyes and looked around. He, along with the rest of the Avengers, was sitting around the kitchen table. Most eyes where either on him, Tony or the sheets of paper in their hands. It was Hank McCoy who had pulled him out of the past.
"Yes," Steve said, flustered to a certain degree. "Yes, I'm fine. Go on,"
"...as I was saying," Tony continued, glancing sideways at Steve. "The event begins at six o'clock. You'll all be ready, of course. You will all be standing here," he said, as he pointed to floor plans. More specifically to the centre stage. Tony was planning to parade them around, much like the US. government had paraded him around as 'Captain America'. Though Steve sensed there was a lot more money being thrown around by Stark than had been pushed into any of the shows Steve had been involved in in the past. Several million dollars, in fact. "and I want you to remain in a loosely-nit group like this for at least half an hour, because there is a lot of press coming. And they'll all want group shots. After that, some of you have had interviews scheduled with celebrities, politicians and talk-show hosts."
"I still do not see why this is all necessary," Thor shrugged as he motioned to the itinerary. "In Asgard we always respected-"
"As we explained earlier," Pepper interrupted calmly, "it's both a fundraiser and a PR stunt. We want the public opinion on our side. I mean, you don't want them coming after us like they go after 'The Devil of Hell's kitchen', do you?" Collectively, everyone at the table nodded as Steve vaguely remembered what she was talking about. This elusive character had apparently taken it upon them-self to clean up the rougher parts of the downtown area. And the only reason that Steve believed he existed was because Peter Parker claimed to have given chase to him at one point. Supposedly he had managed to outrun him, which would be quite a feat, given just how fast Steve had seen the young man move.
"...over here," Tony droned on as he pointed to another section of the floor layout. "Will be the sample section of the first wave of merchandise. Toys, clothing, posters...even a demo of the video game my people have cranked out." Looking over the list, Steve let out a low whistle. There was a lot more listed than what he had ever imagined. And it all cost more than he would have been able to afford back in the forties. "Try and pose with some of the merchandise... selling it will help pay for the inevitable tsunami of lawsuits that we'll be facing. Of course, you'll all receive a cut of the profits."
"Well shit!" Jubilee chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "Now I know I've made it. I'm a comic book character now!"
"Weird, isn't it?" Peter remarked.
"Very," she replied, before turning to face Tony and asking, "We aren't going to have to stay in our...costumes, right? Because I've got a nice dress I've been working on for a while, and this is the perfect opportunity to try it out and-"
"Well I don't see why not," Tony said with a small nod, "after a few hours, that is." Most of the people at the table let out a sigh of relief as Stark continued to go over the itinerary for the night's events. Several political dignitaries where expected to show up. The headmaster of the school that Jean used to work for, and Jubilee had graduated from, was scheduled to arrive at some point in the afternoon. A few military personnel wanted to meet Steve in person, and they would be posing with the Mayor for a group photo.
As soon as he was finished, everyone at the table went their separate ways. Hank and Jessica headed straight for the infirmary to check on the young mutant they had brought in. Jean and Thor both headed for the door. Pepper and Jubilee announced that they where going to the gym for an impromptu workout. Azari followed them soon after. Peter lingered behind, with a flash of emotion in his eye.
"Something wrong?" Steve asked, ever the attentive man.
"No," Peter snapped back harshly.
"Really?" Steve said with a raised eyebrow. Clearly something was bothering him.
"Yeah," Peter replied, a bit slower this time. "Yeah, it's just...today's never been a good day for me." Before either of them could say anything more, they where approached by Tony Stark. The older man leaned heavily on his cane as he beckoned both of them to follow him down a hallway. Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask just what they where doing and where they where going, Stark turned to face them both.
"I don't want either of you to say a word about what I'm about to show you to anyone," he said very sternly. Steve and Peter exchanged a glance with one another, before nodding in agreement. Accepting this, Tony turned to the wall and placed his palm against it. The square section that he rested his hand on glowed a faint blue, and he heard a faint musical cue.
A portion of the wall then slid open, revealing a secret, hidden tunnel which was illuminated with the same blue glow. Tony hobbled down the tunnel, with the two of them in tow. "Something which will be difficult, with Miss Grey, I'm afraid. For now we'll just have to trust that she doesn't dig around in our skulls whenever she pleases." That was a somewhat alarming thought to Steve, realizing how vulnerable he was to her. Thankfully she didn't seem like a malicious type. The three of them exited the small tunnel, entering a dark room.
With a flick of a switch, bright lights soon chased away the shadows, revealing a massive space filled with all sorts of objects. Weird guns, the kind Steve would have expected to see in a cheap science fiction movie, lay behind a pane of thick glass, which was reinforced by a metal cage. A suit of armour, which was lined entirely by spikes and looked like it was designed to fit someone of Thor's stature, stood in one corner. In another was a row of metal safes, each containing a single glass window, displaying the object inside of it.
"This," Tony said calmly, "is the Vault. Back in the day," he said as he ran his fingers over the gun-rack. "We gathered and stored weapons from our enemies. Mostly for safe-keeping, because the police and government cannot be trusted with this kind of power. Not yet, anyways," he said as he walked around the centre table. "Others we took in for study. Like this curiosity," he said as he flicked a finger against the nearest metal box.
As soon as he had done so, the box began to shake and rattle. Something inside let out what could only be described as a scream, before covering the glass section of the box in a black, gooey substance.
"What the hell is that?" Steve blurted, pointing to the box.
"A little gift from our Martian friends," Tony replied plainly. "A friend of mine picked it up in Hell's Kitchen, trying to devour a house cat. While it was still alive." At that moment, Steve heavily regretted eating breakfast that morning, as his stomach began to churn uncontrollably.
...xxXxx...
Pepper huffed as she felt her feet pounding against the rubber track of the treadmill. A bead of sweat dripped down her brow as she pushed herself harder. The knowledge that this was just a warm-up did not dissuade her from continuing.
After all, if she was going to be a professional Superhero, she needed to be in the best shape possible.
"Feel the burn!" she said as she re-doubled her efforts. Not far from her, Jubilee was resting.
Not by sitting down. Or leaning against a wall. No, she was resting the palm of her hand on a balance beam. And supporting her entire weight while doing it, in an incredible feat of body control. Slowly, the Asian girl moved her free arm and two legs in circles, keeping herself steady somehow.
"I still don't know how you can do that," Pepper huffed as she ran. "Aren't you afraid of breaking something? Like an arm or your nose?"
"Never have," Jubilee chuckled calmly, despite her precarious position. "It's always kinda...come naturally to me, you know?"
"Like a second Mutant power?" Pepper replied as she finally stopped the treadmill, and moved onto something a little more challenging. She went to the weight bench, picked up a set of dumbbells began to curl her arms. "Or something like that? I think I heard McCoy say something about it being a recent phenomenon. I...I wasn't really listening. All that stuff goes over my head."
"Yeah I don't really understand the science of it all either," Jubilee said, with what Pepper interpreted as an upside-down shrug. "I mean, I get the basic concepts. The Mutant Gene spreads itself as far and wide as possible. Each carrier is affected in a different way. And so on and so forth."
"Yeah that's about as much as I understand," Pepper replied with a grunt, "I mean...no offence and all...but you have to admit it. Mutants are weird." she said, praying that her words didn't come across as bigoted and racist.
"No complaints there," Jubilee replied as she flipped herself down to a sitting position. "I mean, there is like...no status quo for us. No baseline powers. No common ancestor. Can't even tell if it's really genetic or not, according to Hank." she said as Pepper wiped away the beads of sweat forming on her brow. "And of course those toy and movie and video game people Tony hired aren't helping at all." Pepper nodded in agreement. Those same people had tried to twist her 'origin' story around to better suit what focus groups liked. Apparently just being a well-educated black woman who just happened to be related to one of the richest men in the world wasn't quite enough for them. They wanted her to spin the story that she had managed to pull herself up out of the gutter by the straps of her boots, defying the odds and now wanted to help those less fortunate. What utter bullshit, she thought to herself.
"Let me guess," Pepper smirked, "they want to downplay your Mutant side while focusing on being a poor little orphan success story?"
"You got it," the Asian Mutant nodded appropriately. "According to them, no little girl is gonna want my face on her shirt if I'm a freak."
"And what did you tell them?" Pepper asked.
"That I'd swallow any of their bullshit," Jubilee replied with a slight cough, "but I remain a Mutant. No if's, and's, or buts. Jean and Hank both said the same. And I think Cap had a thing or two to say to them."
"Which is probably why they still wheeled in a cart full of your action figures," Pepper said, as they both chuckled somewhat, remembering everyone's reactions to seeing their plastic likenesses being wheeled inside. Along with a very colourfully painted, patriotic motorcycle. "Steve's going to be rolling in dough within a week," she shrugged.
"Oh yeah," Jubilee nodded as she reached for a bottle of water nearby. "Stuff with his face is already going for crazy amounts on eBay. Some dude bought some bloody vintage trading cards the other day for well over four thousand dollars." Pepper was forced to choke back a string of expletives.
"Four thousand?" she blurted disbelievingly. "For some old cards?"
"Well supposedly they where carried by the seller's grandpa on Omaha beach," Jubilee replied plainly, as she arched her back. "kinda neat, but I think the money could have been spent better." They both looked up at the large digital clock on the wall.
"Shit," Pepper said, realizing what time it was, and how little time she had to get ready. "I gotta go. Tony wants me to do a few flyby's of the City before lunch, garner up some interest," she said as she stood up, and arched her back. "Plus, he says I need to work on my flying. Apparently it doesn't look good if I create a crater every time I land..."
"Well have fun with that," Jubilee said as Pepper strutted out of the room confidently.
...xxXxx...
"I don't understand," Hank said, scratching the fur on his cheeks as he spoke. "All the blood tests came back negative for anything dangerous. There's no sign of-"
"You've never worked in an ER, have you, Dr. McCoy?" Jessica said, cutting him off with a smile as she read over the test results again. All six pages. Without blinking. In less than half the time it had taken him. "One of my Professors had a saying. If you hear the sound of Hooves, look for Horses. Not Zebras." Hank looked at her, slightly confused, so she elaborated. "We've ruled out everything we can think of. Now," she said as she set down the clip-board and moved over to stand beside their still-unconscious Mutant patient. "We just have to find whatever we can't think of ourselves." she said as she began to run her hands through the young man's fine coat of blue fur.
Since they had brought him to be in their care, the young man had not shown any signs of recovery, or deteriorating conditions. Something that had puzzled them both.
"Huh," she said, tilting her head to the side, getting Hank's attention. "Have a look at this." Hank did exactly as she asked, allowing his gaze to follow her fingers to a spot of skin she had revealed by pulling back some of his fur. Immediately he saw what she meant.
At the base of his neck, their Patient had a crude tattoo etched into his skin. A cross, with a series of symbols that he couldn't quite make out properly, as the ink and fur where a similar hue of blue. Easy enough to miss when you weren't looking for it. "I've never seen this kind of cross before," Hank admitted.
"I have," Jessica replied, "on a few skin-heads a couple years ago. Apparently it's from some sort of religious gang. Spreading the good word and all that. The type of people my Sunday school teacher would have liked to smack around a few times for fun." she continued, adding even more to the aura of intrigue that surrounded her, even if only by a little. "Yeah, whoever did this definitely isn't a professional. The ink's crap, some of it bled out into the surrounding tissue. Only..."
"Only what?" Hank asked.
"This was put on the back of his neck for a reason," Jessica replied as she straightened her back. "It's hard to cover up. Easy to see. And right on top of a cluster of nerves. If you want to hurt someone," she said, "you put a degrading tattoo right there."
"And you know this how?" Steve Rogers asked, as he stepped into the room, seemingly from out of nowhere.
"I wanted to put 'I love Justin Timberlake' there when I was twelve," Jessica replied with a small shrug, and a flicker of a smile. The latter of which was subtly aimed at the Captain, though he did not see it. Steve seemed more concerned for the young man on the bed. Which was completely natural.
"Uh-huh," Steve nodded, raising an eyebrow and looking at Hank, who shrugged. "And do you have any idea who tortured him like this?" he asked.
"Not torture," Hank replied confidently, as he tugged at the edge of his lab-coat. "See his hands? they're all bloodied and raw. He was able to fight back. My opinion," Hank offered with a sigh. "he was in a Mutant fighting ring. It's one of the only ways people like us can make money. Thing is, if you lose...you get thrown to the wolves."
"Severe beatings do not explain his comatose state," Jessica replied, crossing her arms in front of her body as she spoke. "I still say it's something drug related. Perhaps he tried to take that rumoured Mutant Power suppressing drug?"
"I've never heard of it hurting someone like this," Hank refuted with a shake of his head. "Besides, if he had taken some...he wouldn't look like this."
"Unless he was lied to, and desperate enough," Jessica suggested. "Someone in his position is extremely vulnerable."
"And who's fault is that?" Hank half-growled.
"Not hers," Steve cut in firmly, staring Hank down, and snapping him out of his mood. "J.A.R.V.I.S. should still be running that...face-finding thing," he struggled to say as he kept himself planted between the two of them. "If he can find out more about this man, it should lead to new answers, right?" Hank nodded sheepishly, embarrassed by his small outburst. It was his goal in life to prove that he was not an animal, like his outward appearance would suggest. With a heavy sigh, he looked down at his watch. A little less than three hours to go before the evening festivities where going to begin. There was still a lot he had to do before then.
"I have to go," Hank said plainly, as he set down the file he was holding, and made his way towards the door. "Doctor, Captain," he said respectfully as he bowed out and headed down the hallway, pulling off his lab-coat as he walked.
...xxXxx...
Deep inside a secluded warehouse, Wanda Maximoff sat with her legs crossed in front of her body, and examined the room around her. It was dull, grey and depressing, despite her efforts to attempt to decorate. She wasn't surprised her efforts had had so little of an effect, do to the lack of things to decorate with. Hell, she thought, there's barely anything in here at all! Pretty much anything in the warehouse that hadn't already been there had either been stolen by her speedster brother, Peitro, or traded with a local gang for by her father.
A rickety bed, a folding card table, and an old television. That's all she had to work with. Much better than what the government had given her, but still far less than what any normal person her age would consider comfortable.
Still, she knew she had it better than almost anyone else in what she was supposed to be calling 'their house'. Peitro was the only other one with an actual bed. Her father was sleeping on an old couch. And two of his military friends, James Howlett and Elizabeth Braddock, slept in sleeping bags on the floor. A few of Peitro's friends, who Wanda wanted nothing to do with, had taken up residence in an abandoned semi-truck outside the compound.
Not the most pleasant conditions, but better than nothing. that's what she told herself, as she absentmindedly toyed with a few scraps of metal she'd found lying around. A crimson vapour stretched out from her fingertips, holding the largest scrap of metal in mid-air as she warped it's shape into whatever she wanted. She made it smaller. She made it bigger. She turned it blue, red, green, black, white and transparent. All of this was caused merely by her thoughts.
Back at the government facility, their scientists had done their best to ascertain what exactly her powers where. She wasn't exactly a telekenetic. Or an elemental manipulator like her father was. She was a combination of both.
She sighed as she dropped the metal scraps to the ground, and switched on the old television. Thankfully, one of Peitro's fellow gang-members, a kid nicknamed 'Forge' had a certain knack for technology, had managed to re-fit it with newer parts, essentially giving her all the perks of a top-of-the-line model, with very little cost attached. Wanda mindlessly flipped through channels, ranging from news broadcasts, to re-runs of old sitcoms, to old movies, to weather reports. Until finally, she managed to find something that caught her eye.
Even while she had been a captive of the government, she had caught wind of a team of super-heroes who had managed to save the world. So it was somewhat of a relief when she had heard that they would be sticking around, and that it was rumoured that a handful of them where just like her and her family. She had the smallest feeling that things where about to get a lot easier for Mutant kind as a whole.
However, living in such cramped quarters meant that one had very little privacy.
"What the bloody hell are you watching?" Elizabeth Braddock, or as Wanda jokingly referred to her as, 'Betsy', grunted from the doorway. Being a close friend of her Father's, Betsy had recently taken Wanda under her wing, like an older sister. Not that the younger girl minded, though she was almost certain that her dad had practically ordered her to do so.
"The live broadcast," Wanda said as Betsy pulled up a chair, "of the new Avengers team."
"Pah," Betsy scoffed as she pulled up a chair to sit in. "It's all a show. Something for the media to gobble up. And to sell toys to kids with too much money. Though..." she said, as a smirk formed on the edge of her mouth, as a picture of a topless Captain America was shown on the screen. "Maybe not all bad..."
...xxXxx...
The night was in full swing. After a dizzying introduction by an overpaid announcer, each Avenger had paraded themselves onto a stage to a varying degree of approval. To absolutely no one's surprise, Steve's reception had been the most exuberant. And Thor had certainly earned his fair share of cat-calls from the observant audience. As did Jessica and Jean, though the latter's became somewhat subdued when it was announced that she was a mutant.
Peter, T'challa and Pepper all received mixed reception. Mostly due to some bad press surrounding political issues, personal attacks from the press and a recent business fallout that had left several hundred people jobless. But as mix as theirs was, it was nothing compared to the dead silence that came when it came time to show off Jubilee and Hank, the latter of whom shrugged off the fact that he was booed off of the stage. The former didn't take it too well, however, and walked off to be on her own for a while.
Seeing this, Steve had an urge to go after her, to offer some solace. But his path was blocked by a sea of reporters, politicians and admirers. All of whom clamoured for his undivided attention. The first, and most prominent of whom was a man he recognized from the television: Robert Kelly, a Senator from New York.
"It is an honour to meet you, Captain Rogers!" Kelly proudly exclaimed, as he took the initiative and shook Steve's hand without permission. Something about the man's aura made Steve want to immediately wash his hands. "A real, true honour! I don't know if you know this, sir, but my grandfather served with you in the One-Hundred and Seventh Battalion!"
"...Really...?" was Steve's response. He wanted nothing to do with this man's smarmy demeanour.
"Oh yes!" Kelly replied passionately. "Yes, he always talked about you, sir! Said you where...and I quote, 'the craziest, bravest, kindest son of a bitch I'd ever met!'"
"That's great," Steve replied as he clapped the man on the shoulder, wanting nothing more than to escape his death-grip handshake. "I-" Steve began, only to be cut off once more by Kelly's boisterous proclamations.
"Step in close Captain!" Kelly said proudly, "and we're sure to make the front page!" he said, as even more photographers swarmed them, snapping pictures so fast that Steve found himself nearly blinded by the constant flashing. He had to actively resist the urge to raise an arm to shield his eyes, until Tony Stark approached. In his hand, he held a small device, no larger than a pen. And when clicked, every reporter's camera seemed to shut down remotely on command. This provided Steve with the perfect opportunity to slip away from the Senator's company. He ducked behind a thick pillar before anyone really noticed him making his escape.
Unfortunately, in his desperation, he nearly knocked Jessica, who was in the middle of expertly downing a glass of champagne, onto the floor. Luckily she had better balance than he did, and adjusted her stance appropriately. Only the slightest bit of alcohol spilled onto the floor. No more than a few drops.
"What's the matter?" she half-smirked as she drowned the remaining liquid, "sudden need to wash your hands?" She stepped to the side, revealing a half-empty bottle, as well as a few other glasses, one of which he took and filled slightly. Because of his increased metabolism, it would take a considerable amount of wine to get him even slightly tipsy. But he still enjoyed the taste. And the company, admittedly. "I gotta say, I am a patient woman, and I want to knock him across the room..." Steve chuckled, knowing full well that was something she was very capable of doing. They had done an assessment of each individual's overall physical prowess, and Jessica had come in as the second-strongest, after Thor. Though he had her beat by a large margin, and Steve harboured a belief that Peter hadn't given it his all.
"I felt dirty after being next to him," Steve replied in a low whisper, as Jessica poured herself another glass. He took another sip before saying, "back in the forties, guys like that would be laughed out of city hall...let alone Parliament!" Both laughed at this, which Steve appreciated. He'd noticed both siblings acting rather dour all day, and he wanted that to change.
"Yeah well all he's gonna get now is a good ole' Twitter-thrashing," Jessica chuckled as she downed the remnants of her second glass. "God I don't know why we had to invite people like that," she said venomously, shooting daggers out of her eyes towards Kelly, who was now posing for pictures with Azari. And from the looks of things, the two where getting along rather well. Not at all surprising, given how much the two seemed to be alike. In fact, Steve wasn't sure exactly which one she was referring to, as it could have been either of them. Azari, despite his talents as a public speaker and tactical manoeuvres, was not well-liked among the Avengers roster. Steve was pretty sure that he, Thor and Hank where the only ones who could stomach his presence for more than a few minutes. "I mean, who the hell," Jessica continued as she poured and downed yet another glass, "do they think they are?"
"Rich men who think their money elevates them to a whole other class," Steve replied in agreement. He didn't hate all people with money, just the ones who talked down to others like they where nothing. There where some billionaires that he respected. He was even disappointed to discover that Bill Gates wouldn't be in attendance, because he had a charity venture he wanted to discuss with the man. "Honestly, don't pay them any mind. And look," he said, in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the subject, "looks like they opened up your clothing booth!"
"I try not to," she snapped back, finally emptying the bottle she had been vehemently consuming. "And well...shit, I probably should go over..." she muttered, setting down her empty glass before leading Steve over to the aforementioned booth. Already there was a small crowd gathered there, eager to examine the available merchandise. Mostly for critique and review. But some, mostly a combination of young girls with money to spend and parents with money with young girls to spend on, where there to buy, it seemed. A collective squeal rippled through the small crowd as Jessica, much like Steve had been, was bombarded with requests for photographs. Mainly selfies.
Though to be fair, she seemed to handle it a bit better than he had. Even though, in his mind, she was close to being flat-out drunk based on how much of that one bottle she had consumed, plus the other empty one he had seen not far off. Hopefully she had some sort of accelerated immunity like he did. But, she maintained her posture, and smiled for a plethora of pictures. Eventually, she even roped Steve into a few with a bear-like grip.
Of course, a part of him didn't really mind.
...xxXxx...
"Fucking ass holes," Jubilee found herself muttering as she paced the length of the hallway, thankful no one was around to see her fuming mad. She might just have blinded them in a fury. How the hell could they go around downright insulting people like that? Hank had been practically forced off the stage. And although everyone else had done their best to calm her down, even Hank himself, it hadn't worked in the least.
She just needed some time to think, maybe something to hit, and definitely something stiff to drink. But there was no punching bag present, and all of the booze had mysteriously disappeared into thin air. And of course, there was no way Jean was going to leave her alone, even if she was in a whole different room than she was.
"Are you alright?" Jean's voice echoed through her mind. Something annoying that Telepathic people did way too often.
"Piss of," Jubilee replied out loud.
"Testy, testy, testy," Jean replied mockingly, "If you need to talk...I can be there in five minutes."
"I'm fine," Jubilee snapped back as she stupidly attempted to walk away from the conversation. Of course that didn't work with Jean, who wasn't really there to begin with. Fortunately, Jean seemed to have enough decency to know when she was not wanted. So Jubilee was left to her own devices, despite the fact that she could hear the sounds of a party not far off.
It wasn't anything she wasn't used to. She had spent a lot of time on her own, trying to figure things out for herself.
At first, it had been when her parents died suddenly, and she had been left as an orphan at the age of six. She'd had to learn how to navigate the world the orphanage brought down on her by herself, as the nuns where too busy dealing with too many children to take much notice of her. She'd had to learn to cook and clean for herself, mostly. She even taught herself basic reading and writing, from copying others.
However that had all changed when her mutant powers developed at the age of twelve. The first time they'd acted up involuntarily, she'd found herself hauled to the curb with nothing but the clothes on her back. She remembered that day with perfect clarity. It had been raining. All she had been wearing was a pair of old jeans, a white shirt and a tattered old sweater. She hadn't even been given the chance to grab shoes.
That first night was one of the worst experiences of her entire life. She'd been cold, wet and alone. Most of it she'd spent huddled in the corner of a dark alley, just trying to sleep, but unable to. She'd wound up catching a nasty cold that night, which became much worse in the morning. By the next day, she could do a little more than move.
Fortunately, someone had found her, and took her under his wing. He'd shown her how to survive on the streets. How to steal. How to hide. How to be tough. And when the time came, she was picked up by Charles Xavier, a renowned Mutant Rights supporter, and he'd taken her on as a student at his school. She would eternally be forever grateful for what Xavier had done for her.
"Lost in thought?" Peter Parker's voice rang out, startling her. She hadn't seen him perched above one of the cupboards, idly eating away at a plate of desserts with his mask half-up over his nose. "Or looking for the restroom? It's that way," he said, nudging to the left with his head, "by the way."
"No, just looking for something to drink," she replied with a heave, "you wouldn't happen to know where the booze-?"
"Ask Jess," Peter said quickly, "she's probably drank half of it by now."
"I thought she hated the stuff?" Jubilee asked, remembering one of the first conversations they'd had as a group.
"She does," Peter nodded as he downed a yellow butter-tart. "But well...it's her birthday. She always drinks on her birthday..." he said, with his voice trailing off somewhat towards the end. "Word of advice," he said, "don't tick her off tonight. So what's bugging you?" he said, changing the direction of the conversation on a dime.
"well," Jubilee said, slumping against the wall. "those ass-holes out there. It just-"
"Pissed you the fuck off the way they treated you and Hank?" Peter replied.
"Yeah," she shrugged, "I mean, who the hell are they to think that that's okay? We're trying to put our lives on the line for these people, and they're tearing half of us down because of something beyond our control! It's just...uggg! You have no idea what it's like to have people suddenly treat you differently because of how you look, or something you can do? People find out I'm a Mutant and suddenly they look at me like I'm a piece of shit on the bottom of their shoe!" She curled her hands into fists to keep herself from slamming them into something, or blowing something up by accident.
"First off," Peter replied as he set the empty plate down on top of the cub-board and clasped his hands together, "something people keep trying to tell me is that there are always going to be petty dumb-asses trying to tear others down for the stupidest reasons. I keep being told to not bother with those types. So maybe you should as well."
"Easy for you to say," Jubilee snapped back, "people don't look at you like you're a piece of shit." Immediately, she knew where she'd gone wrong with that sentence, even before Peter slipped his red-and-black mask off, baring his disfigured face. Something she'd noticed he absolutely hated doing.
"Two things. Of the two of us," Peter shrugged as he dropped himself down to the ground, grabbing the plate before he did so. "Shit...even of the whole team... I'm the only one who looks like an actual piece of shit. So don't sell yourself short, sparkles. Second," he said as he motioned towards the exit. "I think we've got a good two hours before that team-wide discussion panel we're supposed to do. So come on," he winked as he pulled his mask back over his head, "let's go see if we can go catch some real shit-bags. I know that always makes me feel a hell of a lot better!" A smile cracked her face, as she found herself thankful she hadn't changed out of her 'Wondra' getup yet, like she had planned.
...xxXxx...
Pepper was absolutely stifling hot in the Mark-17 Iron Man armour. Even though the suit had environmental adapters, the overhead lights where cooking her inside the suit so much that she had flipped the face panel open, and had downed six glasses of cold water to combat the heat. She'd have to talk with her grandpa about finding a better way to deal with the heat while in a suit.
Of course, even worse than the heat was the crowd gathered around her, Jean and Azari. They all clamoured for their attention, wanting to know specific things about the product line they where supposed to be advertising. Currently, they where on the subject of action figures. Something which none of them where really an expert on.
"So this is the complete line?" a reporter prodded, as he pointed to the display case full of the toys. Every Avenger was represented equally in an action-packed diorama. Their miniature plastic counterparts where battling a massive robotic behemoth that looked like it was straight out of some Japanese TV. show.
"Yes..." Pepper replied, "yes, it's the complete line. For right now, at least." She motioned to the second display case, where rows of the action figures where on display. "If this endeavour proves to be successful, then we may wind up launching more in the future. Different costumes, maybe a few with more 'action' features. You know," she shrugged, "make them shoot things and stuff." She offered this weakly, wishing she'd spent more time familiarizing herself with the products beforehand. She was sure she looked like an absolute idiot right then and there. Thankfully, she at least had some backup.
"They come with all the bells and whistles," Azari said confidently, stepping forward and taking charge of the interview. Pepper, thankful for the reprieve, stepped to the side, out of the way of the majority of the reporters. She found a place beside Jean and Hank, who where deep in conversation about their blue-furred Patient.
"...if he hasn't woken up by tomorrow, I really believe that sending him back to the hospital would be the best course of action," Jean was in the middle of saying.
"But they'll just turn him away at the door," Hank replied quickly, in a hushed tone. "What we need to happen is for you to go-"
"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Jean cut in, "It's morally wrong for me to invade someone's head like that. Especially if they're out cold, Hank!" she hissed back at him.
"Even if the alternative is him dying?" Pepper interjected with a small shrug, as she watched Steve and Jessica across the room, as they exhibited another product line. The two where practically joined at the hip. No doubt due to the fact that Jessica looked like she might fall over drunk, without Steve to lean on. "I agree with Hank, we can't send-" she began, only to be interrupted by a calm-looking man in his early forties wearing a sharp suit. His feigned friendly expression told her one thing, that he was Military, and on a mission. Though what it was wasn't yet clear to her.
"Miss Stark," the man said politely, extending a hand for her to shake. "Miss Grey, Doctor McCoy," he said, addressing them each personally. "My name is Phil Coulson, Head of the N.Y.M.R.D. Or the New York Meta human Relocation Division." Pepper nodded appropriately. The N.Y.M.R.D was a well known, if somewhat controversial law enforcement division that handled strange situations. They had been put into place not long after the original Avengers disappeared, to deal with meta-human threats. And of course, that namely meant dealing with 'dangerous' Mutants. Something Pepper was well aware that certain members of her team had issues with.
But, ever the diplomatic businesswoman, she remained calm to see what exactly this man wanted from them.
"I am here," Coulson continued smoothly, "in hopes that we can establish a decent repertoire from the beginning. I would hate for things to be...uhh..muddled...by preexisting opinions and prejudices. Doctor, the warrant for your arrest has been terminated." he said, addressing Hank directly. "Also, I've given an executive order to all under my command, as well as as a strongly-worded suggestion to the NYPD that all Mutant Avengers be given proper amnesty from any actions that are technically illegal."
"You mean like using our gifts to help others?" Jean said in a somewhat scolding tone.
"Miss Grey," Coulson replied calmly, "I have never claimed that the current laws are just, or fair. However," he continued as he cupped his hands together. "The fact does remain that there are dangerous individuals out there who are capable of causing a lot of harm." Pepper was torn here. She agreed with what Coulson was saying. However, she also knew that voicing her opinion was sure to upset the people on either side of her. But she spoke nonetheless, choosing her words carefully as she spoke.
"Well maybe our organizations can work together," Pepper suggested, "for the betterment of all involved. Even if certain adjustments have to be made."
"I couldn't have said it better," Coulson replied. "And I-" the rest of his sentence was cut off by a loud crash! sound as someone, who Pepper couldn't see thanks to the crowd, was thrown through a display of clothes.
...xxXxx...
"You know, for the city that never sleeps," Jubilee said as she crouched low over the side of a tall building. "It's unbelievably quiet up here."
"Well for you at least," Peter Parker replied from where he crouched beside her. "You don't have super-acute hearing. But I guess it's still quieter than normal up here," he said as he smiled underneath is full-face mask. In truth, he loved it up there more than down on the street. There was so much more to see from their vantage point that one would never catch onto from street-level. They way people moved through thick crowds in patterns was particularly fascinating to him.
"You spend a lot of time up here?" she asked him.
"Yeah," he replied. "Yeah, it's great spot to just come and...think," he said with a deep sigh. Today of all days was probably the worst day for either him or Jessica to be interacting with people. But he was a bit better at putting up a brave face about it than she was. "Plus you get wicked cell reception up here," he pointed out.
"Yeah," she replied with a small huff. "Yeah, I spent a lot of time up on rooftops when I was younger." Peter cast a glance over in her direction. He hadn't said anything to her, but he'd long ago guessed that she, like most of the team, ironically, was an orphan. And that she hadn't been as fortunate to find a surrogate parent like the rest of them had been. "Mainly looking to see if there where any windows I could open to get inside."
"Troublemaker, huh?" he replied with a chuckle. "Too bad you nev...hang on," he said as he caught sight of several men pulling up to a nearby convenience store. There was nothing out of the ordinary about them, except that they where wearing balaclava's and carrying baseball bats. Not something someone usually brought into a store unless they where looking for trouble. "wanna go catch a robber?" he asked with enthusiasm.
"Isn't that why you brought me up here?" Jubilee quipped back, "how do you plan on-!" he cut her off by pulling her in tight against his body, holding her there with one arm. "What the hell are you-?"
"Hang on!" he said as he shot out a line of webbing that attached to the nearest building, and leaped off the roof. The webbing went taught as the two heroes swung with their momentum. Peter laughed heartily as their momentum carried them through the full swing. Whereas he was sure his teammate wanted to either scream or vomit, he wasn't sure. The distance required them to swing several times, but that was nothing new for Peter. Perhaps the most challenging part was properly accounting for the added weight Jubilee added to any motion made. But that was merely a simple matter of using basic math to calculate the optimal trajectory, so he didn't mind. Plus it's not so bad having a hot chick clinging to me for dear life, he thought with a smile, and thank god Jean's not here to know what the hell I'm thinking, he realized as they landed on the very roof of the convenience store that was being robbed.
As soon as he let her go, Jubilee slipped down the back of the building, all trace of her previous nausea gone. He understood perfectly. He'd be the distraction, she'd be the surprise followup. He made sure to set his lenses to auto-tint mode, just in case as he crawled low over the building's rooftop, wary of any potential spotters the robbers might have.
Luckily there weren't any that he could see, and he promptly landed behind the five men, who where in the process of shaking down the store owner.
"Tombstone isn't too fond of you not payin' up on time!" the largest robber growled as he lifted a smallish Korean man into the air with both hands. "Mister Chun!"
"Please!" the man they where holding hostage cried out. "Please! I have no money!"
"You hear that?" the lead thug chuckled as he set who Peter assumed was the store owner down. "Mister Chun here say's he doesn't have any money... yet," the man continued as he paced the length of the main counter, where a number of obviously expensive personal trinkets sat. "Yet he's got all this nice shit, sittin' right here..." the man continued as he picked up a diamond bowl and vase. An evil gleam could be seen in his eye.
"Please no! Those belonged to my-!" the shopkeeper cried out, only to be met with a slap on the back of his head, which shut him up.
"Yeah, these look like they might go for a pretty penny out on' eBay," the man chuckled as he mockingly weighed both items in his hands. The store owner winced with each subtle motion, and Peter decided that it was time to intervene. He calculated his motions carefully as he latched himself to the ceiling of the store. The only two people who saw him where the shopkeeper's wife, and Jubilee, who was moving stealthily behind an isle of cards. He nodded to her, and pointed to the one man guarding the family.
"Now," the lead man grunted as he leaned in close to the store owner, "looks like I'm gonna have to call-"
"The Ghostbusters?" Peter howled as he dropped down from the ceiling, and fired off two blobs of webbing, covering both the man's hands and the priceless decorations he was holding in them. His hands where covered in such a way that, even if he managed to somehow hit the vase and bowl hard enough to break them through the webbing, he'd slice his hands into a thousand bits in the process. "If you do, please make sure it's the Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis version. Not the new people," he said as he proceeded to relieve another one of the Thugs of his baseball bat, just as Jubilee popped out of her hiding spot and expertly flipped a third man over her shoulder, showing a surprising amount of strength and skill.
"What the fuck!" the lead thug cried as he looked at his web-covered hands. "what the hell did you do to me, freak?"
"I just covered your hands in a pressurized adhesive," Peter replied as he swung under the arm of another thug. "Think of it like Duct Tape crossed with silly string. And as I was saying," he said as he twisted his opponent's arm out of it's socket with the slightest nudge. "Melissa McCarthy did give that part her all." as he babbled on, he watched Jubilee smash another man's shin against a metal rack, causing him to scream in pain. More evidence that she was both not someone to be trifled with, and that she'd been protecting herself for a long time. He would have continued to watch, but the hairs stood up on the back of his neck, and he instinctively ducked under the arms of the vase-and-bowl wielding man. Peter grabbed him by the shoulders and twisted him to the ground, and pinned him there with more webbing. "That should hold you there, until the police arrive," he said, turning to face the shopkeeper, "and just tell the cops to pour some nail polish remover on him. That'll loosen the webb-!"
Again, on instinct, he moved as he heard a small click in the background. The last thug was holding a gun, trained on him. In the split second before he fired, Jubilee filled the room with a brilliant shower of lights, aimed at the gunman. Peter's lenses automatically darkened, and the family looked away. But the thug was not so lucky. He caught the full blast right in the face. He let out a pained howl as he dropped onto his back, clutching his eyes.
"You alright?" the Asian Mutant asked him.
"Yeah..." he replied with a nod. The bullet had gone wild, and sunk into the wood panelling on the other side of the store.
...xxXxx...
With a confident smile, Azari, prince of Wakanda, put all of the skills his people had taught him about public speaking to good use. He needed to do his people proud. Perhaps this was not the most glamorous job in the world, but it was one his father had bequeathed to him, and he intended to hold his head high.
"So I understand that there is a movie in the works?" Christine Everhart, a famous talk-show host, asked him. The two of them where seated on a portable set of hers, filming a segment for her show. The blonde woman sat neatly with her legs crossed as she led the interview. "Can you confirm this?"
"One hundred percent," Azari replied with a confident nod. "Mr. Stark has negotiated a deal with the studio, allowing them to retain full profit, while we benefit from marketing, as well as retaining a certain amount of oversight on things."
"Like?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The script. Costume designs. Casting choices. That sort of stuff," he replied with a smirk, which was hidden behind his mask. "Of course, ideally we'd star in it ourselves. But I think we'll be a little too busy for that. Saving the world. Talking to beautiful women. All that stuff."
"Hmm," Christine smiled as she eyed her notes. "You say you'll have some choice over actors. Anyone you'd want to play yourself?"
"Well," Azari said, turning to face the people standing just out of view of the camera. "James Earl Jones and Morgan Freeman are a little too old. But I think someone like Micheal B. Jordan could definitely come pretty close to pulling me off." A wave of chuckles rolled through the crowd at this. Underneath his mask, he smiled, revelling in how he was able to mould his public image with such ease.
"And what about your fellow Avengers?" Christine asked, leaning into the conversation. "There has been a lot of rumours surrounding the casting of Tom Cruise or Tom Hardy as Captain America. What are your thoughts on that?" Azari leaned back, feigning a pondering pose before he spoke.
"I think either of them would be a decent choice," the Wakandan Prince replied, "perhaps Mr. Cruise is slightly older than someone should be while playing the Captain, though. Though I could certainly see him playing Mr Stark!" he said, being as diplomatic as possible. "I don't think casting any of us is going to be hard, Miss Everhart," Azari said honestly. "I know that Emma Stone's name has been tossed around to play Jean, and Benedict Cumberbatch for Hank, both of whom I can fully get behind. Maybe Emma Watson for Spider-Woman? And then there's that Hemsworth guy who wants to play Thor, he'd do pretty good I think." Again, his words where met with welcome nods of approval.
"And Spider-Man," Christine asked, switching to a new page on her clip-board. "I noticed that details on his appearance are sketchy. All other action figures have removable masks and swap-able heads. Yet his does not. Can you perhaps elaborate on as to why this is?" Azari chuckled under his breath before giving his reply.
"Well the easiest way I can explain that is to give you a good idea what he looks like," Azari smirked gleefully. "Take the face of Gollum from Lord of the Rings, and mesh it together with Sloth from Goonies and a dash of Freddy Kruger...and...well, that's kind of what the guy looks like!"
"...what...?" Christine said, with an audible gasp as the crowd fell so silent, Azari could have sworn he heard glass shattering in the background.
"Yeah," the Prince of Asgard said with a slap on his knee. "He's a fucking disaster! A train-wreck! Like a turd crossed with an overcooked potato who-"
"Hey, buddy," someone whispered into his ear softly, as they tapped lightly on his shoulder. Christine Everheart's face drained of all colour, and the overconfident African Prince turned to face who he assumed was an admirer.
He was instead faced with an incoming punch, which struck him in the jaw. If he had not been wearing vibranium-laced armour, his jaw would surely have been blown clean off his body. Instead, he was merely thrown across the room. He landed on a heap of clothes and twisted metal, and was given a brief moment to asses the condition of his face. There would be a bruise and his nose was most likely broken. He didn't have time for a more in-depth analysis, however. He was forced to leap to his feet as Jessica Parker, his assailant, landed not far from him.
Azari had, in his time, faced down several fully-grown Tigers. Their ferocity was well-respected among his people, and it was considered a great accomplishment to face one in a fight to death. The look that Jessica gave him, however, was far more terrifying to him than anything a Tiger had ever thrown his way. He was sure even his father would have second-guessed facing her down. But she had struck first, and needed to be put in her place!
"Think that's funny do you, shithead!?" she roared as her hands balled into fists, and began to glow with yellow energy. "See how you like it, when your face is all fucked up!" without pause, she propelled herself forward, and Azari was extremely grateful for the amount of alcohol she had obviously consumed, because she would have no doubt pulverized him in a second otherwise. Her movements where sluggish and telegraphed her intentions. He ducked under her fist and sent a bolt of stinging electricity into her side.
For his efforts, he received a surprise elbow to the face. The blow caught him off-guard, meaning he only managed to get partially out of the way. But her super-strength meant that even a glancing blow hurt like hell. In his daze, she managed to grab him by the throat, and lift him straight into the air, and punch him twice in the stomach. Again, his suit offered him a great deal of protection from her strikes. What would have normally shattered his ribs merely knocked the wind out of him.
"I've had to deal with fucks like you!" she roared as she tossed him back down onto the floor, and straddled him. "For far to fucking long and I-" Azari acted fast, and swept his fingers, which were armed with sharpened claws on the tips, across her cheek, drawing blood. This only infuriated her more, as she cocked back her fist again. At the last second, she was grabbed and hauled back by Pepper and Thor. The latter of whom looked like he actually had to put mild effort into restraining her.
"Show's over, folks," Tony Stark announced flatly, leaving no room for argument as security began to escort people from the building. "That could have gone better."
..xxXxx..
"Who'd have thought hitting someone could be so much fun!?" Jubilee cheered as she skipped across the rooftop. "Well, hang on," she paused, holding up a finger and looking to the man beside her. "That...that didn't come out right. Helping those people was the fun part. Hitting those goons was just icing on the cake."
"Told you it would be," Peter said with a small chuckle as they slowly made their way back to the building that they where supposed to be in.
"You know," she said, thinking out loud more than anything else. "If you'd have told me a year ago that I'd be frying some guy's eyeballs like that in public...I'd probably...I dunno..."
"Fry my eyeballs with your jazz-hands?" he replied, earning a smack on the shoulder from her.
"Probably," Jubilee shrugged with a small sigh, as she turned her eyes upwards, towards the night sky. "I think my hand still hurts from that guy shaking it so hard."
"Well he was just expressing his gratitude," Peter replied as they reached the hatch which led into the building the Gala was being held in. Oddly enough, everything seemed a little too quiet. Like the party had died down significantly. "Just in case you didn't catch the hint when he offered you all the cash those goons took from him."
"Yeah he looked like he wanted to offer his daughter's hand to you," Jubilee said as she flashed a smile his way. He looked away, probably blushing under his mask. She looked down at the small hatch, realizing that a part of her didn't really want to go back down into the building. And she sensed that Peter felt the same way, because neither of them moved to open it. They just remained on the spot, admiring the view.
She looked up again, spotting a shooting star flying across the night sky. Well, at least she thought it was a shooting star. It could have been an airplane, but she chose to believe otherwise. Perhaps one of the few things she missed about living on her own where the quiet moments like this one. Back at Xavier's institute, there was very little time one could have alone to themselves. At one point, she'd taken to sleeping on the roof during warm summer nights. But then the Astronomy club had found her spot, and ruined it with a plethora or telescopes and loud music. And she'd never been allowed to sleep under the trees on the edge of the property. So she took in the moment as best she could.
"They're so pretty, aren't they?" Peter asked, breaking the silence as he too looked up at the stars.
"Yeah," she replied, "yeah, they are, aren't they? So fascinating."
"I think I really discovered them for the first time when I was about seven," Peter said as he clapped his hands together. "I'd stay up until one or two o'clock in the morning just staring at them. Of course, eventually my Aunt and Uncle got pissed and made me stop."
"Why?" she asked.
"My grades dropped from a 99% to a 98%" he replied, causing them both break out in a small fit of laughter.
"So you where always the smart kid?" she grinned, as she found a wall to lean against.
"Well yeah," Peter shrugged in response. "Kinda. I guess it's an unfair advantage. Something about...me...makes my brain work faster than other people, right? That's part of why I can react so fast. Jess's got it too, but not as much, I think." Jubilee nodded, having almost guessed as much, even with her limited knowledge on Peter and Jessica's past life. "So anyways I learn a lot faster than other people. I could have been taking college and university courses by the time I was nine, if I'd wanted to."
"And did you?" she pondered, saying anything to keep them from having to go back down.
"No," he said with a small shake of his head. "No I didn't. My Uncle wouldn't let me. He said" Peter paused for a moment, like something was caught in his throat. "He said that I needed to be learning with kids my own age. But as long as I kept my grades up, he let me study what I wanted to in my free time. So there's that."
"And what does he think of his genius nephew now?" Jubilee smiled as she brushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "going and running around in spandex? I mean, he was a cop, right? You said-"
"I think it's time we go back down," Peter said, cutting her off abruptly as he leaned down and opened the hatch. He didn't say anything, but she got the sense that she'd stepped on a nerve, and decided not to pursue the conversation, instead changing it's course as they descended the ladder that led into the kitchen area.
"I'll be Thor's wolfed down all the food," she said, trying to lighten the mood slightly. "And Cap's probably trying not to drown in pussy."
"I'm picturing a bunch of Soccer-Moms grabbing at him like they're a zombie horde or something," Peter replied, a bit of the humour back in his voice. Not as much as before, but enough to make her feel a little bit better.
"Well then, we'd better go save him, Rick Grimes!" she laughed, in spite of herself.
"Please, if anything I'm Daryl and-" he said as he opened the double-door which lead to the main hall, where there where supposed to be hundreds of people bustling about.
Only, there weren't. The only people left where their teammates, minus Jessica. Thor and pepper where busy re-assembling a display of clothes. Azari's face was being tended to by Hank. Jean and Steve where exchanging quick words, and Tony was simply tapping his cane on the ground when they entered. A few eyes flew up to greet them, then quickly looked back down. Only Tony and Steve walked over to them.
"Where were you two?" the senior Stark asked plainly.
"Out," Jubilee replied with a small shrug, "you said we didn't have to stay and-"
"I know what I said," Tony snapped back, cutting her off. "But it probably would have been better if you'd stayed. Particularly you," he said, looking directly at Peter. In response, Peter leaned back and put his hands behind his head, looking from the ruined display, to Azari and Hank, then back to Tony.
"What did she do this time?" was Peter's response, causing everyone within earshot to look at him questioningly. Not wanting to look stupid, Jubilee glanced at Jean, hoping she could telepathically fill her in. But she didn't have to, as Azari more than beat her to it.
"Your bitch sister hit me!" the Wakandan Prince shouted, his voice breaking the silence like glass. "She's crazy!"
"What did you do?" Peter replied calmly. Jubilee had to give him some credit. He was more calm than she would have been in his position. "You said something to set her off, right?"
"I didn't say a damn-!" Azari began, only for Steve to cut him off with an authoritative gesture.
"You compared Peter to a goddamn over-cooked potato," Steve snapped viciously, thrusting his finger at the Prince as he spoke. "You sure as hell aren't innocent. But!" he continued as he turned back to face Peter. "There had better be a damned good reason for her to go and-"
"There is," Peter replied softly, as he slowly brushed past Steve and made his way to the 'centre' of the group. "You all might as well pull up a chair and get comfy. I'm only going over this once," he said with perfect clarity. Everyone, even those who had pretended to not be listening, did just that, forming a semi-circle around him. Jubilee herself was sandwiched between Jean and Hank. "tonight was..." Peter said as he pulled his mask off, freeing his scarred features. "probably...no, definitely the worst night to go and tick my sister off," he said.
"Why?" Pepper asked.
"Because," Peter said, "this is the tenth anniversary of the biggest regret in her life."
A/N: Well, what did you think of this chapter? Anything you liked? Anything you hated? Let me know in a review! The next chapter will almost be entirely in flashback, so get ready!
