Disclaimer: This is Marvel's sandbox and most of the toys are theirs. I did bring a few of my own. Just for fun, never for profit.
Expansion
One of Nyssa's favorite places to take Darshan during the day was Central Park. The energy there was different than in the rest of the city; attenuated and filtered through the Zen vitality of trees and other living things always content just to exist, that never tried to be anything they were not. The city wasn't quite far enough away to be forgotten, but she didn't come here to forget. Her leg was well healed by now, but on cold autumn days like this it sometimes ached. Her phone rang in her pocket, the ringtone telling her it was Seraphina calling. She tucked her technopath widget behind her ear and curled her fingers around her cell phone. She had become accustomed to taking her calls this way and enjoyed the privacy it provided her.
Hi, Sera, she answered.
We finally did it, Nyssa! We won our first case! Sera's triumph was a bright yellow clarion in her head. Nyssa grinned.
I guess that means we're legit, huh?
It makes all the struggle worth it. And I feel like it proves to the others that we're headed in the right direction. They had a string of six lawyers that had agreed to donate some time to the fledgling nonprofit. They had fielded a handful of cases and had some additional court dates coming up. Sera's tone grew thoughtful. The win is validating, but I'm actually more hopeful about the one we lost last week. I'm hoping to take that one to the Supreme Court.
Now we just have to make sure the funds don't dry up, Nyssa mused. Donations had been spotty to begin with, but now that they had actually won a case, people might believe they were worth the funding. Nyssa had taken over most of the fundraising and community outreach – the bulk of the nonprofit duties that had nothing to do with courtrooms and legal jargon. I have a couple ideas for that, actually.
Hit me, Sera replied immediately.
Remember how we like to joke about me having a music career? Nyssa ventured tentatively.
Yes, and how you won't try because you think that will keep you from being taken seriously? Sera countered.
Well, it would. But maybe I could record a few tracks, put together a fundraiser album, and use the proceeds for the EPDC, she suggested.
That's not a bad idea. Sera's voice turned thoughtful. As long as you can put together some decent tracks. Think you can make it go viral again? Nyssa grinned to herself.
Stranger things have happened. She frowned as her attention was pulled outwards by a woman walking fast past her, clearly distraught.
"Mason! Mason?!" The woman called. She stopped next to Nyssa, who was standing still off to the side of the path. "Excuse me, ma'am, did you see a little boy go by here?"
Sera, I'll call you back.
Shit, do you have me on the brain phone again? Nyssa ended the call without answering the question, knowing it was mostly rhetorical. She turned her full attention to the distressed woman.
"Have you lost your son?" she asked. The woman nodded.
"He's three. I just turned my back for a moment, and when I turned around again, he was gone! I just…" The woman paused, looking from her to Darshan in his service harness. "Oh, you wouldn't have seen him. You're blind, aren't you? I'm so sorry to bother you…" She started to walk away.
"Wait, I still might be able to help!" Nyssa called after her. The woman stopped, and turned back towards her, hopeful but confused at the same time. Nyssa reached out her hand. "Take my hand and think of your son. Not just what he looks like, but who he is." Hesitance flared over her face, but she took Nyssa's hand. It took Nyssa only a few moments to trace the mother's memory of her son, and to get a sense of his presence and personality. Closing her eyes, she expanded her awareness throughout the park. The boy showed up in her mind, several hundred meters away. She opened her eyes and gestured for the mother to follow her. "This way!"
Even at a sprint, Darshan loped easily beside her, keeping her on the paved path and away from hazards as they wove through the park, the smells in the grasses, the sidewalk and the passersby telling stories through the dog's powerful nose. She had adapted to getting sensory input from the dog, and he almost seemed to know what she wanted before she did. They were less a team than symbiotic, each one's existence and skills enhanced by the other. In the months since the disastrous building collapse where Nyssa was injured, they had both learned more about working together, and she was almost more confident with him as her guide than before she had lost her sight.
The little boy was hiding in some bushes, his excitement at having escaped his mom replaced by distress that he could not find her. As the woman approached, he burst into tears and reached for her in relief.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" The mother thanked her profusely, then turned her full attention to her son. "Don't you ever do that to me again, young man! You scared me half to death! Next time we come here, I am going to put a leash on you…." Mason twined his arms around his mother's neck as she carried him away. Nyssa smiled to herself. Darshan sat at her side, watching the reunited mother and son walk away. Nyssa's smile turned contemplative as a thought occurred to her. She scratched absently behind Darshan's ears.
"What do you think?" she murmured to her canine companion. "Should we start training for search and rescue, too?" Darshan glanced up at her and whuffed, his tail thumping against the ground. She grinned. "That's what I thought."
The old Hydra outpost was weathered and overgrown. It was obvious that nobody had been in or out of the complex in years. Still, a low hum permeated the air, making the hairs on the back of Bucky's neck stand on end. The facility was on lockdown, security protocols still in place. Based on the intel Natasha had gotten for them, nobody would be able to get into the base as long as it still had power. Luckily, they had a way around that.
Felix stepped up to the transformer and took a breath. Turning, he glanced over his shoulder at Wanda, who held up her hands. Protective bubbles formed around both Bucky and Scott, preventing any electronic malfunctions. She nodded to Felix to go ahead. He placed his hands on the transformer, which started to whine, and after several seconds, exploded in a shower of sparks and blinding light. The wind quickly drove the smoke away, the outpost now eerily silent. Wanda glided over to the heavy steel entrance and swept the door open with a wave of her hand. She stepped through, hands at the ready to block any attack. None was forthcoming. Behind her, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Felix and Scott filed in, weapons and shields at the ready.
At the center of the largest room, a backup power generator thrummed, providing power to four cryostasis units. It was neither surprising nor unexpected. Hydra had three ways of dealing with beings that had become too dangerous or inconvenient to manage. Sold into slavery or trapped in eternal sleep were terrible ways to live, but slightly better than the third option. They paused a moment, and Scott let out a low whistle.
"Are we sure they're human?" he asked. What was visible certainly didn't appear entirely human. Human skin didn't have the color and texture of charcoal. Two of the four figures weren't recognizably humanoid at all, just vague blobs barely visible behind the frosted-over glass.
"They were, once," Natasha assured him. "The only survivors of two different experimental programs, one aiming to create pyrokinetics, one with a focus on polymorphism."
"I can guess which is which," Scott said dryly, peering through the frost. "So are they… male or female?"
"Those two are amorphous beings now," Natasha replied. "They could take any form, of any person. So… both?" Scott snorted.
"We shoulda brought a bucket," he commented.
"Maybe a little less chatter, more rescuing?" Sam suggested, looking over at Bucky. With a silent nod, he crossed over to the control panel and set to work.
It was still somewhat odd, being on the other side of the cryochamber. They all knew how to turn them off and wake their inhabitants by now, but the others usually deferred to Bucky. He found a unique satisfaction in turning off the chambers, bringing their occupants back to life, greeting them with the news that they were now free. He had some regret that these were smash-and-grab operations. They didn't have the luxury of giving them time to reorient themselves and regain their strength, rest and recuperate. That would have to come later. This site appeared to be abandoned, but they had discovered that somehow, Hydra always knew. They probably had an hour, tops, before they would have company. Not that Bucky would regret another chance to bang some Hydra heads together, but the point of the exercise was to get everybody out in one piece.
A tense silence fell as the team watched the tubes slowly thaw, rime vanishing from the clear surfaces like ghostly fingers were peeling it away. The amorphous forms started shifting first, melting into puddles at the base of the chamber. The group's attention was suddenly pulled to one of the columns as a conflagration erupted inside.
"Whoa," Scott said, taking a step back. The glass clouded, then began to glow before slowly liquifying. A fireball suddenly shot out of the opening that appeared on the melting chamber. Felix cried out as it passed close by him, singeing his arm. Wanda quickly halted the flaming object's progress with a red-tinged force field. As an afterthought, she made another field around the other chamber for good measure. A few heartbeats later, the second cryotube exploded, the shrapnel contained by the ruby-hued globe. A humanoid-shaped fire hovered in the middle. The flames parted to reveal a human face, glaring at Wanda as she held it captive. The first fireball ricocheted off the walls of Wanda's field several times, sending bursts of flame spiraling against the transparent surface. Steve stepped forward.
"I am Steve Rogers. We mean you no harm," he reassured them, trying to project both calm and confidence. "We are here to liberate you, and to give you the option of joining us. Right now, the world is not welcoming of people like you and I. We offer safe haven, if you so choose." Both of the firebound figures stilled, watching Steve intently. The amorphous forms in the slowly-opening cryotubes were arranging themselves into something more recognizable as human, and they seemed to be listening, as well.
"If we go with you," one of the charred figures asked, still trapped within Wanda's force field, "will we be able to leave, if we want to?" Steve nodded.
"You will not be our prisoners," he confirmed. "We offer a place to rest and find yourself again. A place to live as equals."
"Of course," Sam interjected, "If you leave and start causing trouble, then we might have to find you again." Steve touched Wanda on the shoulder. She glanced at him, and he nodded.
"Let them go," he said simply. "The choice is theirs." She dropped her hands, and the force fields vanished. The two blackened figures dropped to the floor, slowly rose and exchanged glances. One of them smiled, teeth shockingly white against rough charcoal black skin. Behind them, two forms loosely resembling humanoid shapes stepped out of their cryotubes, their colors shifting as they struggled to find control, still disoriented from their recent thawing. They walked unsteadily towards the group.
"We will go with you, Steve Rogers," the other fire being declared in a voice startlingly feminine. "We will see if what you offer is true." The others nodded.
It took very little time to get everyone loaded back on the plane. Sam slid into the pilot's chair and started the preflight process. Wanda sat facing the newest members of their group, prepared to contain them in case they decided to burst into flame mid-air. The amorphous pair had found the strength to walk with them, but once safely aboard the plane, had collapsed into puddles on the floor. Natasha found the pair of vessels she had brought along just in case, and the two gratefully flowed into them to rest. Bucky looked from the sentient liquid to the permanently-charred beings sitting in the back and shook his head.
"I guess I should be glad we just got enhanced skills," he murmured to Steve. "Can you imagine being a human torch?" Steve glanced at them.
"I'm just glad we're bringing some back with us, this time," he replied. This mission had been an unqualified success, but they weren't always so lucky. The last mission, they had found their target, a monster of massive strength and size driven mad by the years of torture by Hydra and subsequent abandonment and isolation. Despite their best efforts, he had persisted in attacking them, until Bucky had been forced to put a bullet through the creature's brain to save a pinned-down Steve. The look of utter peace and gratitude that had come over the being's face was both startling and a reminder that he had once been human.
"Sometimes a quick death is the kindest gift we can give," he murmured. Steve sighed and glanced at him sideways.
"We can agree to disagree on that one," he murmured back. Bucky shifted uncomfortably. Steve clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm still glad to have you on the team," he reassured his friend. "Do you want to give the tour when we get back?" Bucky half-grinned.
"Don't mind if I do."
Killian Resnik set his sniper rifle up on the roof of a building across from where his target resided. He peered through the scope and watched her moving about her room, oblivious to his presence. Just like they always were. He would wait and take the perfect shot when he saw it. Although the sun had gone down hours ago, she still had no lights on, but that made little difference to his scope. She was changing into her nightclothes, and he took a moment to appreciate the lines of her silhouette. Somehow, she was not lingering long enough before the windows to give him a clear shot. A pigeon landed on the rooftop next to him, cooing as it pecked at his tripod. Damn these New York pigeons and their fearlessness. He swore and shooed the bird away, then went back to his scope. He sighted through it again, but she had vanished. He could not find a trace of her in the apartment. He could just make out her form under the covers of her bed. Letting out his breath slowly, he tightened his finger on the trigger. The crack of his bullet through the glass told him his shot was good. He looked through the scope again, but in the darkness of her apartment, it was difficult to tell if the one shot had taken her out or not. He froze as something metal suddenly pressed into the back of his head.
"Who hired you?" a female voice asked. "How much is your contract?" He put his hands up, slowly.
"4 million," he said honestly. "I don't know who it was. He went by T. He contacted me online." He felt a light touch on his head, above where the gun was pressed, and an uncomfortable pressure inside his head. After a moment, she seemed satisfied, and both her hand and the pressure lifted.
"How much would it take for you to forget about this hit?" she asked. He shook his head slightly.
"I can't. It's not just the money, it's a point of professional pride," he replied. Not to mention, this particular client had made clear that if he didn't hold up his end of the bargain, he would be looking at spending the rest of his life behind bars.
"Is your professional pride worth your life?" she asked pointedly, pressing harder on the revolver pressed into his skull. He swallowed hard, then spun around, grabbing the hand that was holding a gun to his head and bringing his own short-range weapon to bear. It wasn't the perfect kill, but he would still get his money. He stared at the slight woman with short hair, leveling his pistol right between her hazel eyes. Then his eyes were rolling into the back of his head, and he fell to the gravel of the rooftop, fast asleep.
"Not again," Nyssa sighed, looking down at the assassin asleep at her feet. Kicking the pistol he had been pointing at her further away, she pulled a short length of rope out of her pocket and bound his hands behind his back. She was certain the police would be happy to get their hands on this one. She could even provide them with a complete list of his kills. But if there was a price on her head, he wouldn't be the last. She would have to do something about it.
The team took turns resting in the bunks at the back of the plane and getting to know their newest additions. The one with the more feminine voice was Ember, and the other went by Ignatius. They had little memory of who they were before Hydra had taken them and transformed them. The other two joined them after a period of rest and recuperation, taking more defined human forms with faces. They were siblings – twins, as a matter of fact. Varian and Misu. Their faces seemed to shift and change at a whim, making conversation uncomfortable, for Bucky at least. Natasha seemed fascinated by them. She spent much of the journey back engaged in conversation with them. He was content to leave her to it. He was slightly more comfortable with repeated social interactions than he had been back in Romania, but it was still taxing to constantly talk down the tactical part of his brain that was constantly analyzing, evaluating. That part of his mind had been ingrained, tortured into him. Even among friends, it would not turn off completely. Perhaps it never would.
Taking his music player out of his pocket, he tucked one of the earbuds into his ear. In the months since they had left Wakanda, his collection of music had grown. He had developed a habit of working with the headphones in – just one, so it didn't keep him from paying attention to what was going on around him – except for on missions. The others teased him about it, and then started bringing him disks of music that they picked up on their various information-gathering missions around the world. It was always different, often a little strange. It took him a couple months before he figured out that they were playing jokes on him, finding the strangest and most bizarre music they could find to bring back to him. He took his revenge by listening to and learning to enjoy all of it. Well, very nearly all of it. He had taken to arranging them in playlists by mood. He found that when he was listening to more aggressive tracks – what Steve still liked to tease him about, calling it his "angry music" – the others seemed to give him a wider berth. Sam would let him be for a day or two, before jostling him back into a better mood with pranks or jokes. But that was not what he listened to in his darkest moods. No, he tended to prefer instrumental tracks during those times when he sank deep into the darkest corners of his mind. The Winter Soldier still lurked there, but there was no danger of him taking over. Instead, his skillset was at Bucky's disposal when he needed it. Utilizing them sometimes left him feeling off-balance, less human, more the killer he had been groomed to be. He had discovered that there were many songs from many different genres that referenced the evil within, an animal inside, a demon within, a monster inside. Knowing that there were others who struggled with these same feelings was an odd, paradoxical comfort. It made him feel less monstrous, and more human. When he found himself in his dark moods, he would indulge in them for an hour or two, losing himself among minor keys and plaintive strings. But he could always pull himself out of it by listening to his "monster" playlist.
He was not feeling particularly monstrous today. He opted instead for a lighter mix, his standard post-mission tracks when they had been successful. He sat by the window, watching landscape far below them turn to water, clouds breaking up the great expanse. The cloud cover became sparser as they drew nearer the horse latitudes. He knew better than to look for the ship. The same technology that kept Wakanda hidden from the world for centuries kept their floating refuge invisible. It would not appear until they were nearly on top of it.
"Five minutes," Sam called. Bucky closed his eyes to enjoy the rest of his song. He tucked the music player back into his pocket and strapped himself in for the landing.
"Make sure you give us a smooth landing this time," he called over his shoulder.
"Hey, my landings are always smooth," Sam shot back.
"Settle down, you two," Steve chided with a shake of his head, but one corner of his mouth twitched upwards. They didn't really worry about Bucky until he stopped heckling Sam. Their aircraft dropped towards the water at an alarming rate. For a moment, Bucky tensed. Even though his mind knew better, his muscles still prepared for impact when it looked like they were about to crash into the ocean. Suddenly, the ship appeared a mere twenty feet below them. Sam corrected course and skimmed along the surface of the deck before touching the plane gently down on the landing pad. Their new passengers seemed somewhat anxious as the doors opened and gangway extended. Steve nodded at Bucky. "You're up." Bucky stood and crossed to stand in front of them. He looked at each of them in turn, and gestured for them to follow him.
"Ember, Ignatius, Varian, Misu… welcome to Sanctuary."
Thanks to karina001, NotMarge and DarylDixon'sLover for the reviews! Always appreciated!
