...


...

Dearest Readers,

Thank you so much for joining Crystal and I on this fun trip! We love your reviews and we love you!

-Pip

...


The One In Which We Say Goodbye


...

I never thought an elevator ride with Winter Soldier and Ant-Man would be so awkward.

It's beyond awkward. Bucky isn't much of a conversationalist, and Scott is doing it just a little too much.

"I'm not saying I'm benched, exactly, not when you're given a specific task from Captain America, but when I got here the battle was fairly wrapped up, I'm just saying there might have been a little less damage if they had called a little earlier…"

"Weren't you coming here from San Francisco?" Bucky asks dryly.

"Boston."

"Okay," Bucky says shortly. He doesn't ask why, and I don't think he cares.

"Does anyone have any ORANGE SLICES?" I whisper to Crystal.

"Welcome to Baskin Robbins," she replies back, giggling.

Scott shoots us a funny look. "What'd you say about Baskin Robbins?"

"I… like ice cream," Crystal answers politely.

"And it's her BIRTHDAY," I point out.

"No kidding!" Scott grins at her. "Happy birthday!"

"Oh, gee, thanks," Crystal replies shyly. "Not - uh, exactly the birthday I was picturing, but…"

"At least you have a break from your stalker!" I laugh.

Bucky's head jolts in our direction. "You have a what?" His eyes have that overly-protected I'm about to shoot someone expression.

"Oh, no, no, not like, a real stalker!" Crystal exclaims. "Just a lot of unexpected gifts showing up."

Scott looks concerned and then glances up at the ceiling suddenly, as if a reminder appeared in a cartoon word bubble. "But, it's your birthday!"

"That's what Tasha and My… Pip keep saying!" Crystal laughs.

"Oh, you know Black Widow, too?" Scott exclaims. "It's not fair, how come I'm only just meeting you today? I know they're not trying to leave me out, exactly…"

"You live in San Francisco," reminds Bucky. "You could move out here when the complex is finished."

"Unlike you strapping young bucks," Scott replies, "I have a daughter to provide for."

DING!

The elevator doors slide open, and we're instantly hacking and coughing. The entire downstairs lobby of this building is thick with smoke.

"Shit," Bucky says.

"Do you think one of the downed ships set something on fire?" I ask.

"This isn't safe to breathe without a ventilator or a mask - put your - put your shirt up, over your nose," Bucky says quickly.

I try not to pout at being told not to talk. Crystal pulls the edge of her cute Target sweater over the edge of her nose. I pull my green T shirt over too. It's really too thin to do much good, the sweatshirt would have been better, but it's covered with spider-web and balled up under one arm.

DING! The doors shut again, and the elevator rests.

"You can't wait in here for me to scout ahead and make sure it's safe," Bucky says urgently. "You'd run out of oxygen too quickly." All business, he puts one arm around Crystal's shoulders. "We're going to run through, head low, and get to the exit quickly," he says. "If you hear any shooting, or if I say drop, drop, if I say run, keep going exactly where you think the exit will be, got it?"

Crystal is turning bright, bright red. "Y-yeah. Yup. Yeeeep. Okay," she says in a muffled voice from inside her sweatshirt. Luckily she is concealing half her fangirling by having her mouth covered, but there's no hiding that her eyes just went from realistic to Disney Princess size.

Scott rests his elbow on my shoulder like I'm a nearby shelf.

"Picnic jawa," I whisper venomously.

"Are you always this pleasant or is it just because I'm from the west coast?" he responds.

"I'm from the west coast," I say dryly.

"LANG!" Bucky snaps. "If there's any sign of the Dravec, go small."

"Here's a thought," I say, "Crawl into his ear canal and then go giganto. You'd literally explode him from the inside. That could be cool."

"There is something seriously wrong with you," Scott replies.

Bucky hits the door button again, his grip around Crystal's shoulders tight and protective. She gives me a side eye. I grin at her and give her a thumbs up.

DING!

The door slides open again.

Running with heads bent low, Bucky and Crystal move quickly and with military-like precision out the door, keeping close to the wall on the left, and Scott and I follow.

Bucky keeps tabs on her, literally the ideal security detail. He makes sure that she sticks close beside him, checks every corner -

"DOWN!" he suddenly shouts, and down she goes. I throw myself onto the floor beside her, and the Scott beside me is suddenly non existent, but a tiny black speck zooms into the smoke.

A huge beam of that plasma shit appears out of the bellowing, pluming smoke, blasting with molten heat into the wall above our heads. Chunks of drywall and dust sprinkle down on us like someone with allergies snorting cocaine.

Snow. I mean falling like snow. That's a better metaphor.

I've been writing too much Deadpool lately.

Bucky has withdrawn a huge, retrofitted military-grade Israeli assault rifle from his back like it's just no big deal and has begun firing into the smoke, and then advances forward, quickly swallowed by the gray.

We had clapped our hands over our ears because of the gunfire, but now, we could easily crawl on our elbows. We reach the edge of what is probably a wide, gray-linoleum lobby, crawl up three steps, and then clamber up towards a pair of wide, double doors to the sidewalk outside.

From behind us there's another burst of energy, and a window somewhere shatters. Purple-ish light erupts from inside the smoke, like trying to watch a thunderstorm in the fog.

Crystal and I each push a door open, and search for something to leave them open with. The porch is line with bricks, so we each grab too and try to brace the doors. The doors are almost too heavy, so it takes a few bricks.

But at this point, the smoke has begun to siphon out into the street, finally released, like an inverted waterfall pooling out under the doorframe and ascending to the sky.

Suddenly, Iron-Man swoops down and lands with a asphalt-splintering BOOM right between us. We both screech and jump.

"What are you DOING?" he demands.

"Holding the doors open for Bucky and Scott," Crystal exclaims. "There's a Dravec hiding in there somewhere!"

"Listen, do me a solid, Godsend, and go find Thor, tell him he's your babysitter," from inside the Iron-Man mask, those robotic blue lenses are actually quite intimidating. Then he points at me. "You, jester, get her there. Got it?"

"SIR YES SIR," I scream back gutterly like a middle aged man in a Mel Gibson war film. I turn to Crystal. "TAKE MY HAND!"

She slams her hand in my own without question. "OKAY!"

Iron-Man looks like he's about to lose a cog in those robotic workings of his. The repulsors in his palms and calves and feet light up with that metallic squeal, and he flies right into the smoke pouring out of the building.

Crystal and I run back down the sidewalk, avoiding massive pieces of downed ship, splintered into huge triangular shapes piercing the cement like there was a really intense ninja-star battle recently between giants. We pause by one of the broken wings, leaning against it for a moment, and peering around.

Crystal suddenly jumps back, and puts a finger to her lips. Points over her shoulder around the wing and whispers Dravec.

I make a slicing motion across my throat. Dead? I ask.

She shakes her head no.

Oh, shit.

"The ones that went back in the building," Crystal whispers. "I think some of them slipped out and came down, spread out…"

"Is it in the ship?" I ask.

"It's on the other side, pulling a weapon out of the wreckage…" Crystal sneaks another peak, and then falls back again, eyes huge. "It's gone."

"So which horror film is it, do you think," I ask. "Behind us, or above us?"

Crystal gives me a pained expression. "Definitely above us."

We slowly look up at the top of the broken ship we're hiding beside, right into the horrible, half-masked face of the Dravec. It's eyes are so red, they look like they are bleeding.

It's got a weapon pointed right at us.

"Why did you have to write such scary villains?" I ask weakly.

"I am a sick person, and I love it," responds Crystal way too cheerfully, grinning like we totally aren't about to die. Clearly she knows something I don't. I mean, she usually does, but even more so, right now.

I feel a blast of hot breath against my back.

"The Hulk is behind me isn't he," I say dryly.

"Yup!" Crystal shoves my shoulders down and we both drop to the street. I ungracefully roll out of the way, Crystal army crawls, and we skirt around the edge of the broken wing just as the Hulk flying over our heads, grabbing the Dravec's rifle, and pointing it up to the sky.

It makes a shrieky, frog-like scream, shooting at nothing, struggling to regain its hold.

The Hulk lets out such a huge, ridiculous, roar of anger that we feel it vibrating in our chests through the cement. They begin to grapple in the worst, but also literally the best, hand-to-giant-hand wrestling I've ever seen. They both fall off the metal on the other side, pounding into the cement, cracking it open. The Hulk growls ferociously, manages to get the head of the Dravec in one hand, and begins to pound it mercilessly into the screet. The other hand isn't quite so lucky, the Dravec lets loose the wrist-blade, which skirts just by the Hulk's forearm, nearly slicing it through. It glances off the surface, luckily, which only pisses him off even more.

"Go go go go go go!" I scream at nothing in particular. We emerge on the other side of the wreckage, and then break into a run. "TAKE MY HAND!" I scream again.

"Gah!" Crystal gives me her hand, and we skid around the corner of a fallen chunk of building that had come down several towards from where the window had been blasted out of Avengers tower. Chunks of plaster and metal still smoke, and rivulets of heat pour from it like a mirage on a hot day.

I skid to a stop.

Thor, God of Thunder and son of Odin, stands before us. One arm holding the hammer, and other hanging loosely at his side. He looks down at us with surprise.

"HERE," I say loudly. "Tony Stark wanted me to give this to you." I take his hand, put Crystal's in it, and then rush around them and go tearing down the street as fast as my legs can take me. She can't protest if I disappear too quickly, hehehehee!

I can FEEL Crystal's gaze pelting my back as I slow to a jog, and then turn around, and hold my arms out like I'm addressing an audience. "It's YOUR GODDAMN BIRTHDAY!" I screech at her.

Thor is just looking down at her hand in his, confusedly.

"YOU!" I shout.

He looks at me. God, he is so hot.

"She's THE KEY," I scream. "So you got to protect her with your LIFE!"

Thor's eyes grow big with understanding and he nods, holding up her hand like a coach congratulating a young football player before a crowd.

Suddenly, I feel something hard knock into my knees, unlocking them, and I go face first into the sidewalk. "Son of a bitch!" I exclaim, pulling back and rolling onto my back. "OUCH!"

Spider-Man goes swooping again overhead, shoving a huge Dravec away and back down the street. Seriously? I mean I get the whole damsel in distress thing but if he's going to keep manhandling me I'll accidentally get killed from being saved!

Wait…

"Hey, anyone," calls Peter. "A little - help - would be nice!"

"I am under strict orders to not leave this brave young woman unguarded," Thor calls out pleasantly to him. "You are doing splendidly, though. Maybe a little more on your left."

Spider-Man does a quick flipperoo in mid-air, kicking out with one leg, catching the Dravec in the jaw. It roars and stumbles back, the mask falling from the lower half of its face.

"CRYSTAL," I shout, "Why did you write them SO UGLY?"

"NEXT TIME I'LL WRITE BEAUTIFUL ALIENS," she snarks back.

Thor beams down at her. "It is fortunate then that you have met one now, yes?"

"Huh? What? Yes?" Crystal stutters. "I mean - wait - yes. No. Oh my."

Black Panther falls out from a ledge above, swiftly jamming his legs right into the Dravec's collarbones on his way down (wait, do Dravecs HAVE collarbones?!) and bringing him down with him the rest of the way. Suit already glittering purple from the kinetic energy absorbed in the fall, his claws glitter with color in the black like a night sky, grabs the Dravec's head, and twists aggressively.

Just as a web from Spider-Man clings to the top of the Dravec's head and tugs.

With a pop, the head comes right off.

"Jesus CHRIST," I erupt, covering my eyes just at the right second. I didn't need to see the actual beheading, but holy shit, I could hear it.

"EW!" Crystal shrieks.

Thor instructs her grandly. "My apologies, I should have led you away from the battle the moment the tiny thing told me what Stark wanted. Come!" he tugs on her hand. "Let's move out of the street into a safe place."

"You okay?" Spider-Man calls down to me in mid-swing.

"I mean other than knocking me face-first into the cement, it's fine, thanks," I snap back, rubbing my forehead. There's a red scrape across my face now like a road rash. Not the first time this has happened but I had definitely hoped that was the last.

"Sorry!" He says sincerely.

I get up and brush myself off.

"PICNIC JAWA, REPORTING FOR DUTY!" screams Scott Lang in my ear, suddenly expanding to real size in real time.

"FUHHHH… LUCK. LUCKY DAY," I censor myself last minute. "You've GOT to stop doing that to me!"

"Okay, well, not ONE, but TWO Dravec were waiting to ambush us in the smoke," Scott replies. "So I think a little gratitude is in order."

"Thank you for saving our lives," I say sincerely. "But it makes no difference if you give me a heart attack afterwards!"

Bucky jogs up quickly, a panicked expression in his eyes. "Did you LOSE her?!" he demands of me.

"YOU LOST HER FIRST," I exclaim, pointing over his shoulder. "Look, she's perfectly safe, she's with Thor."

Bucky turns and immediately leaves Scott and I alone, focused entirely on his primary directive.

I slyly get out my phone and text Crystal a gif of Bucky from Winter Soldier saying You're my mission!

Her phone buzzes across the street, she glances at it worriedly, and then I cackle with delight when she turns beat red again, looks at me, and then back at Bucky, who stands in front of her and begins to speak urgently.

"Let's get you back into the tower," Bucky says.

"Yeah, sure," Crystal replies nervously. "Thank you, for um, earlier. I appreciate it. Really."

Bucky looks surprised to be thanked, and a warmness appears in his expression that wasn't there before. "You're welcome," he says firmly. "Now let's go. It's not safe out here, not yet. Not if there's any more that slipped away the first time."

"Negative on that," calls Iron-Man, landing in the middle of the street. "Right?"

"No more live Dravec," Rhodey says, landing beside him. His helmet flips up and a huge gun that was over his shoulder lifts too, retracts, and disappears into a metal-looking box on his back. "We won."

Peter lowers himself from his hanging web to the street besides T'Challa. From the lower first-floor doors of the Avengers tower, I see Steve, Clint, and Sam emerge. Sam looks great. Clint has a black eye.

Steve looks only a little winded.

The Hulk is standing at the opposite end of the street, pieces of defeated Dravec dripping in his hands. Natasha emerges from the alleyway between the two buildings, carrying a pair of pants and a sweatshirt in her hands. She begins to approach him slowly. "Hey big guy," she says.

Crystal and I give each other a look, and mouth at the same time, Sun's gettin' reaaaal low!

"This is nice," Scott erupts. "We won! Hi everyone! It's been awhile!"

"Sup, dude," Sam says dryly.

"Hi, Mr. Ant… Man. Mr. Ant-Man," Peter says with uncertainty.

"You can call me Scott," he replies.

"Hey, that's Mr. Scott," I correct.

"No, NO, NO," Tony Stark's visor pops up. "You," he points at me. "No pop culture references. Not even Star Trek. None. Zip. I've had enough to last me a lifetime. You," he points at Peter Parker. "You too. Nada."

"I didn't SAY any," he protests.

"What am I supposed to do with The Key," Thor gestures grandly to Crystal beside him. "Is she still in danger? Shall I take her back with me to Asgard?"

"ASGARD," repeats Crystal.

"Hey, that's Godsend to you, uh… Godson," I flail in my joke lamely. But I also feel my eyes grow wide with fear. If we are in an alternate universe with Asgard still alive and well, how long does it take before Ragnarok happens?

"I don't think I should go to Asgard," Crystal says quickly, thinking the same thing.

Suddenly, a Dravec body comes flying out of the broken hole in the building. It's clearly dead, but that doesn't stop gasps and a few leaping motions backwards to avoid the massive body plunging into the street. It lies there, crumpled, and very much dead.

Wanda and Vision appear on the ledge above, looking down at their handiwork.

"You missed one," Wanda deadpans.

Natasha approaches again, one arm looped around Bruce Banner's waist. He looks a little crooked and limping a bit, but otherwise fine, looking relieved to be wearing pants and a sweatshirt and being very much human again.

"Eet is fortunate," Black Panther croons in that unbelievably sexy accent of his, the sandy edge of his mask unfolding from his face and retracting into the panther-claw necklace. "That I was heah for the meeting today aneeweh."

"We didn't plan this in advance," Steve says tiredly. "We can… still have the meeting."

"Who helps clean up this mess?" Peter runs over helpfully and picks up a massive chunk of broken cement like it weighs nothing. "Where should I put this?"

"Leave it to the professionals, kid," Tony Stark replies. "The DODC is at work already. Look." he points past the edge of the police barrier, where media and crowds try to push in behind them and take pictures over their shoulders. Part of the roadblocks had been shifted aside for huge trucks to start driving through, the open truck beds empty and awaiting load up of the rubble and dead Dravec bodies.

They look ripe for stealing, if you ask me. I wonder if the Vulture exists in this universe and if he plans on robbing that convoy later and collecting Plasma guns for himself.

"Oh," Peter says. "You sure?"

"Positive," Tony replies.

Peter sets the piece of cement down. On second thought, he picks it back up, walks it to the nearest truck, and carefully shoves it up and over his shoulders to slide onto the flat truck bed.

"Might as well," he mutters to himself. "I was already halfway there."

Vision calls down from the tower. "I suggest we meet immediately," he says urgently. "We should get the children out of the street."

I look around for additional children other than Peter. There aren't any.

"For the last time," I groan. "We're not children."

"Show us your ID inside and we'll discuss," Clint says smugly, holding up his bow in a kind of I've stopped giving all the damns and turning to walk back inside.

We start to file in behind them, and behind us, the trucks engines roar and the hydraulics of lifting machinery attached to the back, sort of like caterpillars with giant claws, begin to pick up the pieces of wreckage.

The dead Dravec bodies are a horrible sight to behold.

"Do you think we'll get Shawarma?" I ask, hanging back so I can walk side by side with Crystal.

"Do you think they'll send us home now?" Crystal replies. "What if Dr. Strange never shows up again and we're stuck here? What if this is our life now?"

"All the running and the screaming?"

"Yup. Definitely that."

"Dude if anything else from your universe comes out…"

"Like Venom?" Crystal whispers.

"We will DIE," I whisper back. "The Dravec are scary enough. And what about your version of… uh… a certain VILLAIN that may or may not be spoilers for future books…"

"Dude," Crystal exclaims. "NO."

"Right?!"

"YES," Crystal reponds. "That would be VERY BAD."

"Agreed, especially with the," I tap my forehead and glance over the backs of the Avengers immediately in front of us.

"Exactly," Crystal nods.

"Okay, first of all, how do either of you even understand what the other person is saying?" Tony Stark looks over his shoulder at us.

The spacious lobby of Avengers tower, looking a little bit littered with rubble and battle damage, encloses us with pleasant temperatures and a nice smell. Sort of like Disneyland.

"We've been around the block a few times," Crystal responds cryptically. Crystiplically. Crypstickley?

In the main, wide lobby, painted clean-white with a bit of faux-marble gold inlaid where it counts, there's a sort of sunken living room - or waiting room, I guess. Huge dark blue couches face each other in huge L shapes, glass coffee tables between them and small wooden end-tables with plants on them. It feels like a really, really fancy hotel lobby with the white-light decor of a overly fluorescent make-up store at the mall.

Everyone begins to take a seat with tired sighs. People fall naturally together. Steve and Sam. Tony and Rhodey. Natasha and Bruce. Thor and T'Challa. Wanda and Vision enter from the lower doors at the far end to join us, greeted with grateful nods and tired hellos from the rest of the team.

Crystal and I stand uncomfortably, arms hooked together, unsure of where to sit. Scott sits down beside Clint.

I think Bucky was hoping to sit next to Crystal. He has technically not been relieved of duty in any way, in fact, he's still standing uncomfortably like a guard dog, watching everyone, the doors, and windows, the lower half of a fancy-looking escalator around the corner of large, beam-supporting pillars.

Peter is left with a gap on his right side, which he quickly pats the cushion invitingly. "You can sit with me," he whispers cheerfully.

Crystal and I sit down quickly before it's too obvious that we were wondering what the hell we were supposed to do from the beginning.

"Ookay, so I'm gonna need you to run the story from the top once more," Tony says to us. "Underoos told me that you're the key."

Crystal nods. "I guess I am!"

"So how'd you find that out?"

"Dr. Strange called her, uh…" I look at T'Challa. "What's the word for Key in Wakandan again?"

"Ngundoqo," T'Challa replies with ease.

"We googled it," I add shyly. "You see, in our universe, Crystal is literally the only person who has studied and written about the Dravec. That's what makes her the key. She's the only reason any of you would know before fighting them what they were, what their purpose is, and where they store those weapon-thingys in the wrist."

"So they wanted you dead," Tony sighs, looking like he has a headache. "So why the hell would Doc bring you HERE? That's completely irresponsible…"

"Necessary," says Dr. Strange's voice. "One I shall quickly rectify. I've come to take you home."

We all look over beside the couches, where Dr. Strange stands once again in front of a twirling golden circle of sparks, yawning black and uninviting behind him.

"Today's outcome was much different without her presence here," Dr. Strange says clinically. "I… I admit I was privy to a future in which the losses did not justify my powers to exist without making use of the timestone."

Tony stands up, walks towards him aggressively. "Meaning?"

Steve stands up too. "Easy, Tony."

"Meaning," Dr. Strange says calmly, "You asked me to do it."

Tony looks a little subdued now. "You say in some other future, I asked you to go back and change what happened," he says doubtfully. "That must have been one hell of a future."

"More than half of you," Dr. Strange addresses us over Tony's shoulder. "No longer had a future to concern yourselves with."

"Well," Tony says uncomfortably. He looks back at Peter, then Steve. He knows precisely why he would ask Dr. Strange to go back and reverse time. Because in whatever future that was, Steve and Peter - either or both - probably didn't make it out alive. "I stand by what I said, then," he says humbly. "We owe you our thanks, Ms. Queen."

"Oh," Crystal blushes. "Oh, it was… it was nothing."

"It was NOT nothing," I say. "N'gun-doko!"

"Ngundoqo," T'Challa corrects. He does the proper click with his tongue.

"That's what I said, nuggin-ducko," I say. Peter and Scott both snort.

"I have breached many creeds that one must maintain to be the keeper of the timestone," Dr. Strange says carefully. "I'm… I'm afraid there may be some fall out for this. For their safety, I should take them back."

"Boo," I sigh unhappily.

"You can come visit anytime," Peter says.

"We might need a portable magical portal to do that," I remind him.

"Let me put it this way," Steve looks at us. "If you are ever in need of any help, anything at all, please find a way to contact us. We'll be there if we can."

"We owe you a great debt," Vision adds.

"Oh gee," I giggle.

"Thank you," Crystal says. "Um… I guess. Bye everyone. It was really, really nice to meet you."

Everyone mutters and murmurs variations of thank you's and good luck and see ya around.

Dr. Strange beckons us forward. We leave the couch and go up the three steps, standing uncomfortably at the portal entrance. It smells sort of cold and empty inside, and we glance at each other.

"One second, Godsend," Tony says, and Crystal turns around with a shy smile. He holds out his hand, and she reaches forward hesitantly. He shakes it firmly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Crystal stutters. "Really. Yeah. Anytime. Seriously."

Tony reaches out his hand and shakes mine as well. I feel an odd crinkle of paper in my palm, and I quickly close my fist over it. Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit...

"Bye everybody!" I wave past Tony with my other hand. I zero in on Peter Parker. "Big fan, for real," I point at him like I'm a soccer player that just made a big score and I'm reaching out to someone I know in the audience.

"Bye everyone," Crystal repeats. "It was… um, really so nice to meet you all in person, finally!"

Dr. Strange slams a firm hand on our shoulders. "All right, time to go."

"How is it that you can time travel but you're always in a hurry?" I ask annoyingly.

The last thing I hear before he shoves me headfirst into the portal is a bark of chuckles from most of the Avengers, and suddenly, with a raised hand and a look from Tony, they all scream;

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

...

I land face-first into a pile of my laundry on my bedroom floor. I look around, glance at my phone. Maybe only about twenty minutes has passed in my time. The lighting has not changed much through the window. I feel so weird, stepping out of this, feeling like nothing happened, except everything happened - kind of like coming back from vacation and finding everything exactly how you left it, when really, somehow you expected it to be different. Which it really shouldn't be unless your house got robbed while you were gone.

The portal has slammed shut behind me with a whoosh of air, and relieved silence. No more yawning, sucking portals that smell like interdimensional disaster.

My phone buzzes and I quickly open up a message from Crystal. It's a photo of her hand, and nestled in her palm is a tiny little silver object. It looks like a small metal key, with a familiar looped shape on the head.

I press the call button.

"HOLY SCHMIDT," I say when she answers.

"This is the thing you mentioned," Crystal is nearly laugh-crying. "The zodiac key. Isn't it?"

"HOW DID YOU GET THAT?"

"I just fell into my bedroom floor," Crystal says.

"Same here."

"And I had this in my pocket," Crystal explains. "Dr. Strange slipped it to me somehow between the Tower and falling in here!"

"But what the hell for?" I ask. "Is he trying to make you more of a target?!"

"We don't have the targeting people HERE, silly," Crystal reminds me. "I bet he gave it to me because he knows I can keep it safe!"

"It's a lot bigger in the comics," I say.

"I think it's been tampered with by the Pym technology," Crystal says. "It feels like the mini version."

"That makes sense."

"HOLY SCHMIDT," Crystal erupts. "WHY DID HE GIVE ME THE ZODIAC KEY?"

"You should always keep keys together," I say.

"Ha ha, very funny!"

"How Dr. Strange ended up with it, that's another question," I muse. "And what exactly does he plan to do with it in the future?"

"I don't know!" wails Crystal. "This is so ridiculous! Does he just want me to, you know, hang on to this for awhile, until it is needed?"

"Here's my theory," I say. "I think he wants you to hang onto it until he needs you again."

Silence.

"Oh MY," Crystal answers.

"Oh YES," I respond.

I can hear her fangirling over the phone, and some shouting of my name downstairs. "Holy Schmidt!"

"Hey, so, I can hear my parents yelling at me," I say apologetically. "I'll talk to you in like, ten minutes."

"I have writing to do!"

"Same here," I grin. "Business as usual then."

"Perfect!"

"I LARB YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY," I scream at her and hang up before she can answer, cackling like a gremlin.

Before I open my bedroom door, I open my clenched fist, and look at the very tiny piece of paper with scrawled writing on it in my hand. Part of brain is hoping it's just the Avengers 4 title or something.

...

Don't tell Strange or Godsend

...

Don't tell Strange?! Don't tell him WHAT?! That is the most unhelpful thing EVER, Stark. What the actual hell?

Then I go to put the paper in my pocket, and I feel something already in there.

Okay. There is something very weird going on here.

Dr. Strange slipped Crystal the zodiac key, clearly not trusting me with any of that information. He's right to trust Crystal, of course, but he doesn't seem to believe that I'm needed in any of that.

And now Tony is giving me something that he doesn't want Dr. Strange to know about. Is this how Civil War 2 starts?

I pull a small metal item out of my pocket. It is a long metal bar, sort of like yellow brass that's been rusted over a few times. It's about the size of one-fourth of a kitkat bar. With a tiny ring under it, so that I can wear it over my knuckles. It's too big, of course. It looks like something Dr. Strange wears in his movie. But I don't remember why or if it's just a nice choice for the costuming department.

Well, screw you guys!

I send one last text to Crystal before I go downstairs.

I have something to show you.


THE END


...


...


HEY READERS! If you enjoyed this, be sure to check out all of Crystal's amazing stories here on fan fiction. You can find her under QueenofCrystallopia. She is the creator of the epically scary Dravec, the MCFU universe, and so many of the funny moments attributed directly to her in this story where I texted her a scenario and got her feedback so that I could write what her real reactions would be.

This was a very very fun story and I'm about sixty-eight percent positive I'm going to write a sequel for her birthday next year.

Thanks for joining us on this lil' fandom ride!

-Pip