I've been getting some similar-ish questions so I thought I'd drop a general reply here:
Will I be continuing this story up to TFATWS?
No! However I am very much planning to write a separate story of Wyvern-verse Maggie in TFATWS (and maybe WandaVision as well).
Will I be continuing this story up to Endgame?
No! I don't want to give too much away but this story is going to diverge from canon in a way that the original Wyvern story didn't, so things are going to look a bit different.
Also! On the whole you guys are absolutely amazing readers, I seriously couldn't ask for a better group of people to share my stories with!
However if you're tempted to leave a harsh review criticizing me for following canon or not following canon or whatever I've done, please know that this does nothing but discourage me. Criticism is fine, and I welcome it. I often change/adapt my writing after seeing the story through readers' eyes. But please keep in mind that I do this for free, in my spare time, for fun! So let's keep it fun.
All my love to you guys, you are one of the best parts of my week x
May 5th, 2012
Maggie woke up.
Yeah. That happened.
She stared at the ceiling of her half-furnished room in Stark Tower, wincing as her body came awake - and with it, pain. She couldn't focus on just one part of her that hurt, since she was sure that every square inch of her skin had to be covered in a bruise. Her neck ached with whiplash. Worst of all was her face. It had been alright yesterday; a stinging, sharp sort of pain, but manageable. Now it ached and burned, making all the muscles in her face seize and twitch. Tentatively, Maggie reached up to touch the gauze dressing that stretched over her left cheek. She'd had a brief look at the cut yesterday: a deep, bloody slice from the fleshy part of her cheek beside her nose up beneath her cheekbone, before nicking clean through the top of her ear. The field hospital had stitched up the gash yesterday.
Yesterday she'd barely had time to think about the injury. In the face of all the destruction in the city, it had seemed a small thing - just a swing of a blade. But as she lay aching and tired in her bed, Maggie allowed herself a selfish moment of pain.
When she could face the thought of it she rolled out of bed gingerly, her leg muscles seizing as if she'd had the workout of her life yesterday. Her Wyvern uniform lay stranded on the floor, stinking of smoke and blood. She padded over to her windows, though half of them were hastily covered up by plastic since they'd imploded during the fighting. Still, this had been the most convenient place to sleep last night - all the hotels (and half of the intact levels of Stark Tower) were packed with survivors who'd lost their homes.
And now… Maggie scrubbed her hand over the side of her face which hadn't been sliced open. She just wanted to rest, but already she had half a dozen thoughts crowding at the front of her mind. Yesterday might have been the most insane day of her life, but today would be the busiest.
"You sure you're okay to be out and about?"
Maggie met the eyes of the volunteer coordinator as he handed her a hi-vis vest, trash-picker and a rubble sack. He was a harried looking man - she'd observed him bustling around the white Red Cross tent managing dozens of volunteers, heavy lines in his face. It had been easy enough for her to simply walk up and volunteer her services. But now he'd noticed the dressing on her face.
She smiled. "All cleared." She turned away, but not before the coordinator's brow furrowed.
"Hey, aren't you-"
Maggie hastened her steps to get away from the tent, pulling on her vest and taking a hard hat from a pile near the cleanup base. Thankfully, the coordinator didn't call after her.
Maggie had spent an unsuccessful hour in the Tower; no one else seemed to be in, and when she started making calls to coordinate the city cleanup and help for the survivors, it seemed she was about ten steps behind Pepper. Whenever she called to get something started or to check on an ongoing process, they informed her that Pepper or SI were already handling it.
So she'd given up, gone down to the field hospital to get her face checked out (they told her she could take the dressing off, but it was best to keep it on while in the disaster zone), and approached the first volunteer site she could find. They'd cropped up all over the city - FEMA, the Red Cross, the Army, UNICEF, and the S.H.I.E.L.D. Damage Control wing had descended on New York after the battle yesterday, and operations were in full swing: rehousing survivors, getting food, water, and power to the city centre, treating the injured, contacting relatives, cleaning up the streets.
Maggie lifted her gaze, taking in the disaster zone of Madison Avenue. Buildings were shattered, the road broken and littered with slabs of concrete, glass, Chitauri corpses and upturned cars. It looked strange in the cold light of day. Maggie wasn't alone on the street. There were other volunteers in bright yellow vests picking their way through the wreckage and clearing it up, brick by brick. A few shopowners in the nearby buildings were setting their shops to rights, sweeping out the shattered glass and assessing the damage. A team of men in the grey Damage Control uniforms were taking away Chitauri in bodybags. Maggie eyed them as they walked past. She'd heard earlier that SI and the Government had put in an offer to buy Damage Control off SHIELD. She knew they were clearing away the Chitauri and their weapons as fast as they could, but you couldn't cordon off Manhattan. The city was loud with beeping, jackhammering, and rumbling engines. The city that never sleeps, she thought wryly. It'd been like this all night.
At the far end of Madison Maggie could see a few film crews. I'll avoid them. She sighed, glanced around, and then reached out with her trash picker and grabbed a small hunk of crumbling concrete. It went into her rubble bag. She took a step, found a twisted piece of rebar, and picked that up too. The sun shone warm on the back of her neck, and her aches and pains faded as she took her time picking her way down the destroyed street, picking up rubble. She nodded to the other volunteers when she passed them, but avoided them when they huddled in groups during their breaks, discussing the attack and their stories and all that they had seen. Maggie wasn't quite ready for that. Thankfully, the neon yellow vest and the wound dressing served quite well as a disguise.
She strode through the devastation of the city, taking in the horror and the joy left behind. She saw people laying flowers around the fallen skyscraper on Park Avenue. She saw a woman find her lost cat down a half-crumbled alleyway. She saw elderly volunteers setting up a lemonade stand for the cleanup workers. She saw people taking photos of the massive corpse of the Chitauri monster - Leviathan, they were being called - draped over the top of a residential building. Flies were picking at its eyes. She saw tear-streaked faces and tired smiles and strangers talking in bomb craters.
Maggie allowed herself to get lost in the work.
But after a couple of hours, when she'd dragged a dozen bags full of rubble back to the Red Cross tent to be taken away on an Army truck, her phone chimed in her pocket. She paused, wiped the corner of her sleeve over her forehead, and then checked it - a message from Tony.
Central Park, Bethesda Terrace. 1300.
Half an hour from now. Maggie stretched, grimacing as her joints popped and the bruise on her chest twinged. She'd been enjoying this strange bubble, where she had been just another pair of feet on the street. But this message… she knew what it meant. She'd be stepping back into the shoes of the Wyvern.
Central Park
The park had been mostly closed off, the space needed for all the support crews that had descended on the city. Maggie was stopped by a SHIELD agent as she approached Bethesda Terrace, but when they realized who she was they jumped back and waved her through with an effusive apology. Maggie frowned and walked on.
She spotted Tony's car parked by the terrace, and Tony himself stepping out onto the pavement, wearing a dove grey suit and sunglasses. A pair of black SHIELD sedans were approaching down the road.
Maggie strode up to Tony, who carried a bulky silver briefcase. He spotted her and nodded.
"Where've you been all morning?" he called. "I came back to the Tower but JARVIS said you'd gone."
She waved a hand. "Cleaning up." They approached each other on the sidewalk, and Tony did a double take when he looked at her face.
"Hi. Ouch." He leaned in, peering at the gash on her cheek. She'd peeled off the gauze on the way to the park, and though she'd caught glimpses of herself in mirrors…
"Is it really that bad?" she asked, reaching up to brush her fingers over the black stitches in her skin.
"... No."
"That was the biggest hesitation I've ever-"
"No, no I mean it!" Tony exclaimed, swinging the briefcase as he gestured. "It's a very rockstar vibe, Mags, you'll never be turned away from a biker bar now."
"You're a real boost to my self confidence."
Tony had been smiling, but at her dry comment he pulled back a little and looked her in the eyes. "Wait, I'm…" he frowned. "Are you…? I - Maggie, it's really not bad, I swear, it'll heal and no one will even-"
"I know," she finally smiled at his awkwardness, even though the movement pulled at her stitches. "It's just one more disfigurement to add to the package. And I really don't mind it." She resisted the urge to touch the stitches, though she could feel them there - black and obvious. "It's my face, I'm not the one who has to look at it all the time."
"It's a cross the rest of us will have to bear." Tony pulled her in for a hug then, and Maggie gripped him back, because there'd been a moment yesterday when she thought she would have to face this day, and the rest of them, without him.
A growling engine announced the arrival of Steve, on a sleek motorcycle. The SHIELD cars had parked, and Maggie spotted Banner, Nat and Clint stepping out of one, and Thor and a muzzled Loki emerging from the other. They all strode to the centre of the terrace, overlooking the fountain and the lake. Thor was in his full armor, one hand gripping the back of Loki's elbow, who went without resistance. Loki was in slightly better shape than yesterday, though he still bore a few bruises and cuts. Thor had told them yesterday about his plans to get Loki back to Asgard to face justice, along with the Tesseract. He'd been met with no arguments, surprisingly.
They all nodded to eachother as they congregated on the pavement. Despite Loki's presence and the SHIELD agents locking down the whole street, Maggie felt, for the first time this morning, at ease. The faces of the team were grim, but confident. Maggie met their eyes and knew that what they had been through together yesterday had changed something in all of them. Being able to share that feeling... it was a weight off her chest.
Selvig approached from a SHIELD van on the road with a cylindrical chamber device. Maggie's brows furrowed as she took him in. He looked alright, all things considered, focused on the work. He brought the cylinder over to the terrace, and Tony knelt down to open his briefcase. The Tesseract glowed blue and eerie in the sunlight. Maggie sensed tension crackle around them. As Banner reached for the Tesseract with a sturdy metal tool, Maggie looked to Thor. He had stepped away from Loki for a moment, apparently trusting his brother not to make a break for it, and was running his eyes over the trees, the water, the sky. When his gaze fell on her, he dipped his chin in a nod.
Maggie nodded back. She wasn't sure what to say. What do you say to someone who stood by your side at the end of the world?
Thor took a step toward her. "An honor, Lady Wyvern," he intoned. "You fight with the ferocity and grace of the Valkyries."
Maggie beamed, and tried not to think about how she probably snored on him yesterday. "I'm not as good at compliments, but it's been a real pleasure, Thor."
His smile dropped a little, and he leaned in. "I must return to Asgard, but… if you should see Jane in your travels…"
She waited patiently as he appeared to struggle with the words.
Finally, his brow furrowed and he said: "Tell her that I gave her my word. And I will not break it."
"You got it," Maggie smiled, trying to use the right side of her face as much as possible. She couldn't say she fully understood Thor and Jane as a… as a couple, but it was plain to see how much they cared about each other.
Thor turned to take the cylindrical container - which now housed the glowing Tesseract - from Selvig. He reached out to grip Selvig's shoulder in companionable silence.
Maggie felt eyes on the side of her face and turned to meet Loki's gaze. His green eyes glittered even in defeat, and Maggie held the eye contact, determined not to be cowed. A metallic muzzle covered the lower half of his face, and his hands were bound. He held her stare, cool and clever, until Thor drew his attention away.
Maggie realized she had gone cold, but she repressed a shiver.
When Thor turned to Loki, holding the Tesseract container, the others arrayed around them in a loose circle. Maggie stood between Tony and Bruce.
Loki took the other handle of the container. Thor looked up, his eyes roving over the team around him before he gave them all a single nod. Maggie's jaw clenched.
Thor turned his handle and the Tesseract's light bloomed, crackling across the container and then over Loki and Thor's forms, absorbing them and growing brighter and brighter. Maggie took a step back from the piercing light. And then their glowing forms seemed to rocket upward, spiralling into the sky before fading into nothingness.
For a few moments they all stood there, staring up into the blue sky.
"Handy, that," Tony murmured.
And that broke their strange, quiet stillness. They broke the circle, exchanging greetings and farewells and handshakes, strolling together in the general direction of the vehicles.
Maggie found herself beside Nat and Clint, in their casual jeans and boots. "Back to SHIELD, then?" she asked, nodding to the agents arrayed along the road.
Clint shook his head as they strode toward the street. "I'm taking a leave for a month or so. Get my head on straight."
"And I'm going to keep an eye on him," Natasha said archly. She nodded at Maggie. "You?"
Maggie shrugged. "I'm taking things hour by hour at this point."
"Well you're always welcome at SHIELD."
"Am I?" Maggie asked with a small smile. They paused together in the middle of the street. "For what it's worth, both of you are always welcome at the Tower."
"Thanks," Natasha said genuinely. She held out a hand, and Maggie gripped it in a short handshake. After a moment, Natasha's eyebrow rose. "No offers of marriage or a weekend away on a private jet?"
Maggie tipped her head. "Nah. We'd never work. But as friends…?"
Natasha smiled. "I'll see what I can do." She jerked her head at the SHIELD sedan. "I've got to go get Banner's stuff for him. I'll see you round, Stark."
As she walked off, Clint and Maggie turned to each other, shared a small smile, then leaned in for a brief hug.
"You take care," she muttered.
"You too." He paused. "Your brother is looking at me like he wants to rip off my arms."
"Is he being protective? That hardly ever happens, let me see-" Maggie pulled away and turned to Tony, but he'd already pulled his gaze away, trading a few words with Steve. "Damn." Clint turned to leave, and she waved him off.
When she turned, Steve was striding toward her. Maggie tipped her chin at him, then glanced to where Tony was pulling his car keys out of his pocket. "No hair pulling?"
"Not today," Steve replied with that deadpan humor she'd noticed from time to time in him. He still wore old-man clothes, but they suited him.
Maggie gestured to his bike. "You're packed for a trip."
He glanced down. "Yeah, I… I need to get away from it all for a bit. I want to help here, but wherever I went this morning I just ended up causing more of nuisance."
So he'd been out on the streets, too. "You need to learn how to blend in." She shot him a half-smile. "But I think you're right. You've not been here in the 21st century long, you need to get out and see the world. I doubt SHIELD was taking you on holidays."
Steve drew in a long breath, looking around the park. "Exactly. Any recommendations?"
Maggie thought about it. "Pacific Coast Highway. One of the best drives in the country, I drove the whole thing a couple of years after I got my motorcycle license. And then Canada - they're probably less likely to lose their minds over you there."
He smiled. "I'll check it out. You're staying here?"
"I think so," she sighed. "Time to stay put and face the music."
"I'll look you up when I'm back in town, then."
"This is the 21st century, you can send me a text." She grinned, then had to soften the grin because it made her face hurt. She held out her hand, and he took it. "Steve, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
His eyes lit up with recognition as they shook hands. "Casablanca."
"I was hoping you'd recognize that one."
"Speaking of which, Tony, uh, inspired me to start writing down the things I need to catch up on." He dug into his leather jacket pocket and revealed a small, red-bound notebook. "Got this from a CVS on Madison, they've already opened back up. The others have given me ideas for stuff, but…?" He waved a short list.
"Oh, so many," she replied. "But for your drive, see if you can download some songs by… hmm, the others are all going to recommend men, so let's say the female rock stars of the 80s - Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, Tina Turner, Pat Benatar. Can't go wrong."
She waited as he jotted them down.
"Thanks," he smiled.
"Welcome. Happy travels."
Steve walked to his bike, and Maggie turned to see Tony and Bruce getting into Tony's two-door sports car together. Banner had a small bag which no doubt contained all his worldly possessions.
"Hey Wyvern," Tony called, his arm dangling over the driver's side door. "Give you a lift?"
Maggie eyed them. There was only a small rear seat in the back of the convertible, but her legs were sore and… "Fine."
Bruce slid his seat forward so Maggie could hop into the back, sliding into the expensive leather. Tony gunned the engine and they shot off down the road, leaving the terrace and the rest of the Avengers behind. Maggie closed her eyes as the wind streamed over her face.
Banner turned in his seat. "Hello. How is the… uh," he gestured to his own face. "How is it healing?"
"The prognosis is good, doctor," she said, stretching her legs as much as she could in the back seat. "And I've not scared off any small children yet. How are you feeling?"
He shrugged. "Calm. The other guy… the Hulk, he… I guess he got his fill yesterday."
"Thanks again for saving us."
He waved a hand, embarrassed.
"I've offered Bruce a room in the Tower as long as he likes," Tony said as he navigated onto one of the access roads that had been cleared into Midtown. "You don't mind sharing, do you Mags?"
"It's a seventy-floor tower, I'm sure we'll find the space." But then, realizing how that sounded, Maggie lightly touched Bruce's shoulder. "It'll be a pleasure to have you, doctor."
Bruce smiled. "Thanks."
Maggie closed her eyes and let the sun and wind wash over her as they drove back home. She could hear rubble and dust crunching under the car's tires, but they made it down to the Tower. When its shadow fell over her face she opened her eyes - then frowned at the pack of press vans surrounding the Tower. The blockage slowed the convertible's access to the Tower parking garage, and they had to weave through where a handful of NYPD were managing the press. Massive cameras had been set up on the sidewalk, and there was a crowd of journalists with microphones and camera crews flooding the sidewalk. They converged on the convertible when they spotted who was in it, stretching out their microphones through the police blockade.
Tony waved and nodded to the press, keeping the convertible engine rumbling as they slowly inched toward the garage entrance. Bruce shrank in his seat, shielding his eyes from the camera flashes. Maggie just watched it all, as she usually did. But then some of the words being shouted became clear:
"Wyvern!" a couple of the journalists were shouting. Maggie made the mistake of looking at them, and, spurred on, they kept shouting the word. "Wyvern, Wyvern!" Cameras flashed, searing her eyes.
A moment later, the car disappeared into the cool darkness of the parking garage, where no journalist could follow.
Maggie stared down at her hands in her lap. Shit.
Tony showed Bruce to his new room on the penthouse floor, then disappeared to take a phonecall from a Senator. Maggie nodded and waved him off, then strolled into the penthouse sitting area. It had only been moderately damaged - the smashed glass had been cleared and the windows covered up with plastic. The concrete crater where Hulk had beaten Loki into the floor would take some fixing, but the sight of it cheered Maggie.
She sank gingerly onto the long, low maroon couch, took off her prosthetic leg to give her tired muscles a break, and swiped a hand through the air. Several digital screens slid out from the wall over the fireplace. "J.A.R.V.I.S., give me the news."
Maggie spent hours surfing the news channels and reading articles on her phone, trying to wrap her head around the scope to which the world had changed. It was clear the world had been profoundly, deeply shocked. Entwined with that shock was a deep grief for the hundreds dead, the city scarred. The US Senate had called for an emergency session, and as well as the cleanup efforts in New York there were vigils across the globe. A relief fund had been set up and had already collected millions of dollars. Maggie watched footage from yesterday and today, of New Yorkers out on the streets already clearing the damage away and starting to rebuild.
Amidst the grief and shock was… celebration. At first the name going around for them was The Heroes of New York, but as the day wore on, every news outlet caught on a single name: the Avengers. There was celebration, curiosity, suspicion, anger, and thanks. One of the Senators was already talking about holding the Avengers to account for the destruction. There were dozens of interviews with dusty, wide-eyed survivors on the streets of Manhattan, describing the strange people who had defended the city.
"Captain America saved my life," said a pretty waitress on a half-destroyed street. "Wherever he is… wherever any of them are, I just… I would want to say thank you."
And then there was the footage. Hundreds of different angles from smartphone cameras and CCTV and distant news helicopter shots: Iron Man, Thor, and the Hulk hurtling through the air, Hawkeye on his rooftop, Captain America hurling his shield, and the Black Widow dismantling Chitauri footsoldiers.
And, of course, her.
J.A.R.V.I.S. pulled up the main newsclip where the connection had first been made.
"And footage from the attack has shown that one of these so-called Avengers, the woman with the metal wings known as the Wyvern, is none other than Tony Stark's sister Maggie Stark. The images have been widely shared on social media but no official sources have yet commented-"
"Not only is she one of the heroes," cut in another newsreader as a still of the Wyvern in midair over New York was displayed, "but our researchers are telling us that this Wyvern has been an active bounty hunter for no less than four years."
"That's longer than Iron Man's been around, isn't it Catherine?"
Maggie sat frozen on the couch as she watched images and footage scroll across the screen. Images of her face. She'd been beyond thoughts of anonymity when she tore off her cowl in battle yesterday, but she was astonished that so many people had still apparently been around to take pictures of her. The clearest shots were of her on the ground: one showed her guiding firefighters out of a haze of smoke - she had her goggles on, but the rest of her face and head was exposed. She was bleeding freely from the gash on her cheek. Then were the videos of her careening down streets and around corners, and they took her breath away: she hadn't realized how hard she'd pushed herself.
There were half a dozen different angles of her at the library: grappling with the Chitauri in the foyer, then shaky footage of her standing on the marble fresco above the library, bathing the steps in fire. She'd still had the mask on, then, but that footage kept on coming back across the news channels.
Then there was a photograph of the seven of them that must have been taken after the battle - they were all still in uniform, but their helmets and cowls were off and they'd been bandaged up. It was Bruce, not the Hulk, that walked by Maggie's side. On the way to Shawarma, probably. And Maggie's face was there as clear as day, with a big white wound dressing on the left side of her face, a tired smile, and Tony's arm slung around his shoulders as he gestured with his other hand, clearly mid-joke. Maggie was still in the Wyvern uniform.
Maggie ran a hand over her face. Real clever.
Because yesterday had been the end of the world, and it hadn't mattered anymore. But today the world spun on, and Maggie was the Wyvern.
She flicked through a few channels, who reiterated all the main points from the attack. And one of those main points, every time, was about both Stark siblings being superheroes. The mood there was still shock, she thought, but she was afraid of what that shock would become.
Maggie pulled out her phone, ignoring the slew of messages and emails, and checked in on her shadow world. It wasn't as overwhelming as she'd imagined: a lot of her Wyvern contacts had simply dropped her, burning away all trace of contact. Understandable - they knew her as a faceless vigilante and this level of exposure was far too much. She'd set up several digital dropboxes, and those had various requests and messages. A couple of her contacts had sent blackmail threats. Confusing, she mused, given that I've already exposed myself.
Her old ex-CIA contact had sent, simply: Who would have thought it, Wyvern. Well done. Strangely gratifying.
Others tried to threaten, or ask for favours, money, or Chitauri weapons. Well, I knew they weren't nice people, she sighed. She put it all away. She'd clean up that mess later.
The elevator door slid open to reveal Pepper, in a fresh suit and looking remarkably calm given how busy she'd been all day. Pepper smiled when she saw Maggie. They'd exchanged a few tired words and a hug yesterday, Maggie mostly feeling deeply relieved that Tony was alive and able to explain himself to his girlfriend, rather than Maggie having to deliver awful news.
Pepper eyed the news channels on the digital screens, catching on one of the programs, which was running a segment discussing Maggie's entire life and trying to put the pieces together, figuring out when she had become the Wyvern. They were currently going through old photos of her partying in Madrid.
"Ah," Pepper said as she approached the couch. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that."
Maggie blew out a breath. "I'm sorry, Pepper."
"What on earth are you sorry for?" Pepper took a seat, gently nudging Maggie's prosthetic out of the way. Her kind blue eyes took in Maggie's stitches.
Maggie grit her teeth. "I… I never meant for this to happen. And people aren't going to be happy with me, and it'll probably blow back on SI-"
"The last thing you need to worry about right now is the company," Pepper said, reaching out to rub Maggie's shoulder. "Honestly, you and Tony. You'd think you've earned a break. He's upstairs right now figuring out how to dismantle Chitauri energy cores. And besides, what makes you think people won't be happy with you? You saved the city. The world."
"Yesterday. I've been around as the Wyvern for a while before that, and I wasn't always playing with the good guys. And secrets…" she swallowed painfully. "I don't know how to stop keeping secrets, Pepper," she said in a near-whisper, keeping her eyes downcast. "And they always blow up my life."
Pepper sighed. "Look, coming out right now with a clean, targeted PR campaign is not the right move. What you guys did yesterday is message enough. So just… lay low for a while. Heal. I'm handling the company, and working with the city. New York is about to get a lot of help from a lot of places. I think you're entitled to a few days off."
After another hour the competing voices on the digital screens made Maggie's brain itch, and they weren't saying anything new. She checked the penthouse kitchen for food, but all she could find was champagne. For the opening. No one was expected to be living up here for another week or so.
Sighing, she disguised herself as best as she could and then headed back down to the street. The press were still camped out outside, so she waited until a squadron of SHIELD agents tramped into the front lobby, drawing the press attention, then slipped out a side door.
After buying a squashed sandwich from one of the bodegas which had inexplicably reopened its doors, Maggie got a new dressing for her wound and headed back to one of the cleanup stations near Grand Central Terminal. She put on a hard hat and a fluro vest and got back to work.
As she worked, Maggie made mental notes of the things that needed fixing on a larger scale: they needed higher-tech machines for breaking down the Chitauri airships and Leviathans. She made a mental note to ask Tony to loan some of his laser tech to the Damage Control crews. Also the volunteers complained of a lack of communication between the government and the various disaster relief organisations. Maggie texted Pepper to inform her. Resources were generally in good supply, but she also texted JARVIS, telling him to tell the manager of the Tower R&D floors to send down all the safety equipment they had, to better equip the cleanup crews. She knew there were about four dozen HAZMAT suits that would speed up the process of clearing away the Chitauri.
More and more people started to recognize her, now that the press had fixated on her facial injury. One of the volunteers swore a blue streak when she handed him a full bag of rubble and exclaimed:
"Holy shit, you're-"
Maggie's hands flew up. "Please don't tell everyone!"
The guy's eyes shot wide. He was mid 40s, with the look of a blue collar worker. He wore a wedding ring and a plastic beaded bracelet that looked like it had been made by a child.
"This is one of the only ways I'm able to help right now," Maggie explained, gesturing at the rubble sack. She'd been dismantling smashed-up office furniture down on Lexington. "So just… please don't spread it around."
He stared, but then slowly nodded. "Don't you ever take a rest?"
She looked around. "I don't see anyone else sitting around patting themselves on the back."
"I don't think anyone else literally punched aliens in the face yesterday."
"I'm not entirely sure that I did either," Maggie frowned, trying to think back. She'd done a lot of stabbing, but not much punching. She waved a hand. "Just… keep it hush hush for me, will you?"
He hesitated, then tipped his hard hat at her. "Alright, Ms Stark. You'll be needing another rubble sack then?"
"Yes please."
A couple of others recognized her as the sun dropped low in the sky. The reactions were always mixed, but the anger she had been bracing for never came. But Loki got so far before we stopped him, she wanted to say. If I'd been cleverer, or faster, maybe… but mostly people wanted to take a picture with her, which she tried to gently refuse, or talk about some feat of danger and madness that they'd seen during the battle. Several told her they hoped her injury healed soon. Some showed her their own injuries.
Everyone had a story, and she got to know the battle through the eyes of the New Yorkers: stories of hiding, terrified, in a basement as the world shook, or fleeing from Chitauri airships, or seeing an Avenger whirl overhead. A deli owner that recognized Maggie was embarrassingly effusive in his thanks - apparently the Hulk had saved his shop from being obliterated by a Chitauri chariot. He gave her a stack of bagels and would not take her money. She left $300 under his till, and then distributed the bagels to the other volunteers.
She trudged back to the Tower when night had fallen, recognizing that her exhausted body was not going to be much more use. The press still camped around the Tower didn't bother her in her vest and hard hat. By the time she'd flashed her ID to one of the SHIELD agents guarding the door, it was too late.
The main Tower lobby had been a hive of activity since yesterday: SHIELD, Damage Control, disaster relief representatives and Stark Industries employees all milling about the place, exchanging messages and leaving or picking up resources. This time, however, Maggie noted familiar voices drifting over the noise of the crowd. She paused, then turned until she spotted them.
Despite her exhaustion and initial confusion, Maggie couldn't help but smile. Doctor Selvig stood by the main reception desk, in animated conversation with none other than Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis. They were dressed unseasonably warmly, in thick coats and scarves.
Maggie walked over, putting her hard hat and vest in a pile by the doors. "Well fancy seeing you here," she called when she was in earshot.
The three of them spun around. Maggie nodded to Selvig, who nodded back. They'd spoken earlier in the afternoon.
"Maggie!" Darcy exclaimed, eyes wide behind her glasses. "Oh my god, thank god you're okay."
She smiled tiredly. "Likewise. What are you guys doing here?"
Jane pointed outside by way of answer. There was a determined light in her eyes.
"Right," Maggie said. "Sorry, I just… weren't you in Norway?"
Jane folded her arms. "So you knew about that too." Hurt flashed across her face, and from glancing at Selvig's guilty expression Maggie supposed Jane had been filled in on Thor heading back to Asgard.
"Yes, it's been… a long few days." She shook her head. "Listen, though, Thor told me to give you a message." Jane's face lit up. "He told me to tell you… he said he gave you his word, and he won't break it…?"
Jane's gaze dropped, but Maggie didn't miss the smile flickering at her mouth - as if she was trying to fight it. "He gave me his word that he would return."
Maggie smiled.
"Holy shit though," said Darcy, still staring at Maggie. "Are you okay? You're the Wyvern, you were out there fighting aliens!"
Jane looked up too, intrigued, and Maggie rubbed her chin.
"Well… yes."
"That's all you're going to give us?" Darcy exclaimed. "You've been a secret superhero for years and now you're one of the Avengers, and everyone's losing their minds about it-"
"Well I don't know if-"
"That's how you knew SHIELD," Selvig murmured, as if he'd just realized.
"And you've really been this… this Wyvern for years?" Jane asked.
"Uh, yeah." Maggie glanced around, but no one else in the lobby was paying attention.
"How could we never have heard about this!" Darcy waved her hands. "You're a Stark, how can you just go off… hunting down bad guys and saving people in secret with no one figuring it out?"
She shrugged. "A good disguise and a very loud brother as a distraction work wonders." She glanced around. "How come you guys are down here?"
"We," Jane gestured between herself and Darcy, "came to New York to find Thor, but now… well, apparently we don't have the security clearance to go upstairs, and we don't really want to go with SHIELD, so…"
"I'm done working for SHIELD," Selvig said in a low voice. Jane touched his arm, her eyes suddenly concerned.
"Right," Maggie said. "C'mon." She gestured, and the three of them followed her out of the lobby and down the corridor to the private elevator. She touched the call button and said. "J.A.R.V.I.S., I've got some guests. Can you ask the floor manager to allocate some free rooms for the night?"
"Certainly, Ms Stark, though I must warn you that none of the rooms on the upper levels are without at least minor damage-"
"It's fine, really," Jane said. "We just need a place to figure out where to go from here."
As they crowded into the elevator, Darcy appeared to overcome her shock and awe, and pulled Maggie into a tight hug. Maggie winced, still sore, but when Darcy relaxed her grip a little, Maggie allowed herself to enjoy a hug from a friend.
Maggie got Foster, Selvig and Darcy settled, and spent some time discussing the events of the past few days with them. Darcy was a comfort, making irreverent jokes about the Avengers and Maggie's wings, and eager to do nice things for Maggie. She fetched her an icepack for her face, made her coffee, and promised to whip up some baked goods for all the Avengers left in the Tower. It was nice - not to be waited on, but to have a friend.
But jet lag caught up with Foster and Lewis, and they soon went to bed. Maggie sat for a while in companionable silence with Selvig. He kept things close to the chest, but… Maggie could see hints of the damage left behind by Loki's mind control. She'd seen it in Clint, too.
"You warned me about SHIELD," Selvig said, tracing a finger through the condensation on his beer bottle.
Maggie sighed. "This was Loki-"
"I know. But he couldn't have brought the Chitauri so quickly if it wasn't for my work."
"And we couldn't have stopped him if you hadn't built a failsafe into the Tesseract hub," Maggie shot back. "Nat told me. But… Selvig, it's okay to not be okay, for as long as you like. Just make sure you've got people around you who'll look out for you." She nodded in the direction of Jane and Darcy's rooms.
Selvig nodded slowly, his rugged face unreadable. "I'm going to turn in." He stood up to leave, and Maggie sighed. Another small piece of the damage.
Hours later, Maggie sat alone in darkness on the Tower's flight deck.
The flight deck was damaged, but still structurally sound. Wind whistled over it, bringing the smells of smoke and diesel. The city had become a construction zone. Maggie sat cross legged near the railing, facing uptown. The city was a strange patchwork, with some areas plunged into unnatural darkness and others lit up brightly with fluorescent lights where the night crews were working. Over in Central Park she could just make out a yellow glow of hundreds of lights: candles, she knew, from a vigil.
Maggie had her own candle, protected from the wind by the shield of her crossed legs. She inched her hand through the metal railing, feeling the wind twist and twine between her fingers.
She heard footsteps approaching and looked over her shoulder. Tony. He'd changed out of his fine suit and into sweatpants and one of his old band tees. Tiredness hung on his face.
He nodded at the glow of her candle as he came to lean against the railing. "What's that for?"
"Can't go to the vigil," she murmured, jerking her head in the direction of Central Park. "Doesn't feel right. So it's for… you know, all of them. And Coulson."
Tony eyed the candle for a long moment before sinking down to sit cross legged beside her. He looked out over the city. "He was a good man."
Maggie nodded. She could still see Coulson's eyes as he was dying. Even if Coulson had not always understood her, he had seen something in her. Something good.
After several minutes of silence, Tony appeared to shake off the grim mood. "So, how's it feel to be a superhero?" he asked.
Maggie glanced at him. They had no floodlights out here after the attack, so she only had the glow of the candle and the distant ambience of the city to see him by. "You would know better than me."
He said nothing, his dark eyes on her as he waited her out.
Finally, she sighed. "I keep trying to tell myself that it's going to be fine, that I can still be me - the Wyvern and Maggie Stark - even if everyone on the planet knows about it. But it just… everything's changed, hasn't it?"
"It has," he nodded. "But you don't have to live your life in the shadows, Maggot. It's all still new, but… from what I've seen, the response has been more positive than negative. I mean, it's mostly still all shock and surprise, but they'll get there."
She sighed again.
"Hey," he murmured. She looked up at the tone in his voice. His eyes were on her. "I know this is a lot, but… stay."
Ah. He thought she was planning to run again. She looked back at him, and then at the city they had defended together. She nodded. "Yeah. I'm staying."
Relief washed over his face, and then he cocked his head at her. "Anyway, what's the worst case scenario? Now that everyone knows?"
Her expression darkened. "I make enemies, Tony. And now they know exactly where to come to take out their grievances."
"Let 'em come," Tony shrugged. He nodded up at the dark sky above them, where the portal had yawned open. "We've shown the world what happens to people who come and try to start shit in our house." That made her smile. "Besides, I guarantee that more people hate me than hate you, and I've managed to survive a good few years as both Iron Man and Tony Stark."
Still smiling, Maggie leaned back on the heels of her hands. She shook her head. "It's such a stupid thing to be worrying about now anyway, what with the city, and the rebuilding, and the Avengers."
"Christ, I swear you were never this maudlin and self-sacrificial when you were growing up. Come on, Maggot. We won."
She looked up into the sky with a smile. "Yeah," she whispered. "We did."
"Iron Man and the Wyvern, huh? Dynamic duo."
"That's the Wyvern and Iron Man to you," she corrected with an arched brow. "And it's not just us anymore. We're Avengers."
His eyes sparked. "That reminds me. Pepper and I were talking, we think we're going to rebrand."
"Oh?"
He nodded to the other side of the flight deck, where she could just make out the last remaining letter on the building. "Avengers Tower. Now I know the others have all wandered off again, to Asgard or SHIELD or a road trip, but… what we did together yesterday meant something. And I think this Tower can be the start of that something."
Maggie inclined her head. "We might not be needed again."
"And if we are?"
She thought about it for a moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Yeah," she murmured. "Avengers Tower. I'm in."
"Don't worry, you still get to keep your room."
Days stretched into weeks.
Maggie stayed in New York, helping with the cleanup both on the ground and as a Stark Industries engineer. She and Tony developed tools for breaking down the Chitauri airships and Leviathans. They built and resourced temporary housing for those left homeless after the attack. They started on their plans to turn the damaged Stark Tower into the Avengers Tower.
Jane, Darcy, and Selvig didn't stay in New York for long. It was nice to have them around, and Maggie and Darcy spent plenty of time together in her down time, but Selvig wanted to get out of the city and Jane had decided not to wait for Thor any longer - she wanted to get back to her life. So they left, and the Tower housed only Maggie, Tony, and Bruce. Bruce kept himself to himself, clearly enjoying having clean, steady housing and access to a lab. He and Tony worked well together, whether they were hashing out scientific plans or sharing takeout. Rhodey had rushed back to New York the day after the Battle, and he filtered in and out of the Tower, seemingly trying to make up for not being there by being overbearingly protective of both Tony and Maggie.
Maggie kept a close eye on the developments regarding her identity being exposed. She tracked undercurrents in the shadow world, trying to figure out if anyone would come after her for retribution. SHIELD also seemed to be keeping an eye on things. Nothing so far, but she would not be lax.
A week after the Battle of New York, as it had been called, judgement day came for the Avengers. A summons was delivered to Stark Tower from the US Senate, demanding the presence of 'The Avengers' at a hearing the next day.
Only Tony and Maggie showed up, electing themselves as the Avengers' representatives. They both wore suits, and both of them bore evidence of the battle: Tony still had healing contusions and bruises on his face, and Maggie had an angry red line carved along her cheek - the stitches had come out, but the wound still looked fresh and painful. It would most certainly scar. SHIELD had also been called to answer for themselves, and Maria Hill arrived as their representative, in a sharp blue pantsuit.
The hearing was long and arduous, but not the criminal trial Maggie had expected. As Pepper had warned them, it was all politics: the Senate had to appear to be doing something, but they were stuck. They couldn't just leave the Avengers be without questioning them, but they also couldn't convict the team who'd saved New York. They'd already heard days of testimony from survivors, first responders, and the Army. Tony and Maggie explained the leadup to the battle, Loki's aims, and how he had been defeated.
And just as Maggie had hoped they wouldn't, they started grilling her about being the Wyvern. Senator Stern led the charge in trying to make her out as some kind of deviant vigilante. Which, she reflected, I suppose I am.
"Who gave you authorization to act as an international bounty hunter, Ms Stark?"
"You've worked with foreign governments and intelligence agencies, why shouldn't we consider you a threat, Ms Stark?"
To these questions, Maggie answered the way Hill had instructed her to: "I am a SHIELD consultant."
"But have you always been working under SHIELD's directives?" Stern pressed.
"I'm afraid I can't compromise confidential information," she shot back each time, as calm as she could pretend to be.
"Will you consent to hand your wings over to the United States Department of Defense?" he asked a few minutes later.
"No." She hoped she wouldn't have to go to all the theatrics Tony had when the government threatened to take the Iron Man suit from him.
Stern opened his mouth to object, but another Senator leaned forward. "I believe we're stepping a little out of our purview for this enquiry. SHIELD has vouched for Ms Stark's capacity as a combat agent and analyst, we should be focusing on the facts of the Battle of New York."
An exhausting five hours later, Maggie and Tony strode out of the Senate Office building and into the jaws of the press. And as always, they had a lot of questions. About the Avengers, about the Battle, and about Iron Man and the Wyvern. Maggie and Tony answered a few questions each on the steps of the grand old building, presenting the united front Pepper had told them to.
"Mr Stark, have you always known your sister was the Wyvern?"
"Not always, but I knew before you and that's what counts."
"Mr Stark, where are the other Avengers now? Are we to take your new building plans for Stark Tower as a sign-"
"The Avengers," Tony cut in, "are exactly where they need to be, and we'd ask that their privacy be protected. Except for Thor. He doesn't care, he's not on the planet right now."
Maggie smiled, and that turned the next reporter's attention on her. "Ms Stark, Al Jazeera recently published an account of all the Wyvern's known missions since 2007, can you confirm or deny its accuracy?"
She repressed a sigh. "I'd have to take another look to be sure, but from memory, yeah, they got it pretty much right." She found it very annoying that people were able to retroactively tie her to missions. Tony shot her a wry look, as if he could sense her thoughts. It was, however, a little gratifying that no one had come close to listing all her missions. Al Jazeera had got all the big ones: the kidnapped women in Tajikistan, the drugrunners in Gibraltar, the asylum seekers in Honduras. No one had figured out that she'd been hunting for the Winter Soldier the whole time.
"Are you concerned about reprisals for your vigilante actions?"
"Well I had a good working relationship with most major intelligence organisations, so the only people wanting reprisals would be the bad sort of people," Maggie mused. "And I've been reliably informed that my big brother is willing to beat them up for me."
A chuckle went through the reporters, and Tony shot her a wolfish smile.
"Mr Stark, Ms Stark, will you be keeping the Iron Man and Wyvern mantles?" they both turned to this reporter, frowning. "You've both been injured in the field of battle," he elaborated, with a nod at Maggie's face. "And neither of you have been seen in uniform since…"
"It's been a week," Maggie sighed. She hadn't had time to fix her wings yet.
"We'll be around," Tony confirmed. "Last question?"
A young woman from the Post raised her hand, and Tony nodded to her. "What was it like on the other side of that portal, Mr Stark?"
Maggie was standing close enough to Tony that she could feel the full-body flinch that hit him. Her eyes widened and she turned to him, but he already had a carefully irreverent look on his face.
"Don't remember much, I was busy almost nuking myself," he said offhandedly. Maggie did not join in the light laugh that followed this statement. "Alright folks, thanks for having us."
Maggie and Tony forged on down the steps together, the camera lights flashing around them like a world on fire.
A Vietnam veteran living in Durham, Connecticut came home to find that someone had messed with her garage.
After some initial irritation, Margo Williamson had to admit that the newly built state-of-the art garage, stocked with all the tools and parts she'd ever need for tinkering with her cars, was pretty great. And it didn't hurt that it had a secret basement that doubled as an armory.
The person who'd messed with her garage left a note propped against her old, beat-up radio.
Told you I wouldn't break it.
- M
The Avengers had become a worldwide symbol. As the weeks bore on Maggie saw hundreds of drawings and cartoons and pictures of herself, as some kind of icon, like Captain America and Iron Man. She'd been turned into a symbol overnight. People made costumes and toys of all the Avengers, including her. Little kids wore red goggles and cardboard black wings. As if she wasn't dangerous. What had once been something for herself had become something for the world to consume and recreate and celebrate. Some people were suspicious of her, others angry. But for the most part, especially in New York, she had become… a hero.
She didn't know how she would ever get used to it.
Two weeks after the battle, Maggie walked out onto the Tower flight deck at dawn. She navigated around the damaged parts until she came to one of the edges, where the barrier had been knocked away. She inched her boots forward so her toes edged out over empty air. Wind whipped across the deck, catching at her braided hair, and the brush of early sunlight cast warmth across her face. The city glittered in the dawn light, already awake and busy putting itself back together.
Maggie closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and fell forward.
When her wings snapped out to either side of her three seconds later, it felt like a lightning bolt. Suddenly she could feel the wind and sun on the newly-built metal membranes, and her fresh burning engines sent her hurtling up over the skyscraper jungle. Maggie beamed and rolled as she rose, her arms spread wide as if to welcome the sky. Wind roared in her ears and adrenaline crackled through her veins.
The last time she had flown over this city she had fallen, certain she was going to die, but she survived. Tony survived. And now she flew over the city in the full light of day, wearing not her sturdy flightsuit but jeans, boots, and a warm shirt, as well as her red burning goggles. Today she flew as both Maggie Stark and the Wyvern.
She flew aimlessly, soaring over skyscrapers and the glinting river, peering down at construction sites and traffic-choked streets. After a few minutes, her HUD alerted her to an incoming call.
She answered. "Morning, Tony."
"Was there another alien invasion I didn't hear about?"
"Not that I know of."
"Then why is this morning news anchor freaking out about the Wyvern being sighted over New York City?"
Maggie banked to avoid a flock of pigeons, skimming past her own reflection in a skyscraper's windows. "Because… I might be flying over New York City."
There was a pause. "I can see that. Nice wings, by the way. Are they bigger?"
"No, an inch or two less surface area, actually." She'd put the finishing touches on them last night. They responded like a dream, two metal extensions of her own thought and feeling.
"So… care to explain why you're currently hovering over the Chrysler building?"
"The view is amazing." Maggie boosted up, her wings shifting in the hot air currents, and then lightly set one foot on the tip of the Chrysler building spire. She balanced for a few moments, wings outstretched and her arms held wide, looking out at the dizzying expanse of the city. A gust of wind shifted her balance and she pushed off, rolling back down into the city. She arced out over the construction zone at Grand Central Terminal, with all the cranes and trucks and work crews swarming around it, and then soared over the Park. Green fields rolled beneath her.
She could still feel Tony's questioning silence. "I wanted to feel the wind in my wings again," she said honestly. "And… I guess I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't partly a message."
She saw a few people pointing up at her as she looped back around to Stark Tower. She soared over the city, her city, and felt it coming to life beneath her.
"A message? What kind of message?"
"A reminder." Maggie touched down on the flight deck and drew in a deep breath. "That I'm not going anywhere."
When she walked into the penthouse, Bruce was in the kitchen. He had his own kitchenette in his private residence, but they all mostly used the main one.
"Hello," he waved when he turned to spot the windswept and flush-faced Maggie. Her wings were tucked in close to her back. "I like the, uh… the no-cowl look. It suits you."
Maggie, who had pushed her goggles up onto her forehead and was trying to detangle her ponytail, smiled. "Thanks. So do I."
As the furore after the Battle died down, the fame became even stranger. After she and Tony celebrated their birthdays as May turned into June, one of the big stories to hit the papers was people speculating about her sexuality. This confused Maggie, because she had thought she was publicly out. But apparently there was a big difference between a possibly queer mechanical engineer and a possibly queer Avenger. People pored over old photos of her on dates with women, mostly from college. It came to a head the day after she turned 26, when she was caught by a pack of press outside Stark Tower.
"Ms Stark," shouted one of the journalists, "how do you respond to the recent Daily Mail article calling you 'The Gay Avenger'?"
Maggie sighed and paused a moment to look back at the journalist. "That's the Bi Avenger to you."
Twenty minutes later, when she returned to the Tower penthouse with her snack, Tony waved his phone at her. "Not bad," he said. "Bi Avenger is already trending on Twitter."
Almost worse, somehow, was the email she got in July.
Manhattan was nearly back to full functionality. There were still construction sites and blank spots where there used to be entire buildings, but things felt almost normal. People went to work, and cars streamed up and down the streets unimpeded by rubble. The Chitauri and their airships had been completely cleared away by Damage Control. Stark Tower was still under refurbishment, but they'd announced the new name to positive public opinion.
Then the email came.
It was from the New York Public Library, inviting her to a ceremony to reopen the library and unveil a new statue. The Library Wyvern.
The attached image showed the design. A stylized statue of an actual wyvern on the marble fresco above the 5th Avenue entrance: a beast of flared wings, sharp teeth and slitted, almost angry eyes. It was apparently part of their rebuilding project, and they'd gotten the idea from the Battle of New York memorial that had been installed over Grand Central Terminal.
The Wyvern, the email told Maggie, will remain there as a symbol of protection for the library, and all those who seek knowledge and safety within.
Maggie wanted to write back to ask them not to do it, to build the library facade back exactly as it had been before, but they'd already finished the thing. After reading the email three times she showed Tony wordlessly.
When he finished reading, he beamed. "Always knew you were the big nerd of the family. Figures you'd end up immortalised on a library."
She shook her head. "But it could have been any one of us that went to cover the library that day. All of us saved the city. If anything, it should be you up there. Or Steve."
"It also could have been none of us," Tony said. "And maybe things would have been okay, and those people would have been saved when we shut down the portal. It also could have ended much worse. But you were there. And you have to admit, a Wyvern is going to look better up there than a metal man. Or the Hulk."
Maggie went to the ceremony, because it seemed impossibly rude not to, and she got to shake hands with the officers who had held the perimeter at 42nd street that day, and the survivors from the library. All four hundred and sixty two of them.
She gave a short speech from the top of the 5th Avenue stairs which Pepper had helped her to write, about how she had been one small part of a team that came together to protect the city, and that she was humbled and thankful for the statue. It felt strange to be gathered with all these smiling people on the stairs which she had blown to kingdom come only a few months ago. On her way into the library she ran a hand over the marble column which had protected her from Chitauri cannonfire.
But not before she looked up at the statue which bore her name. The six original statues had been restored to the facade over the grand column archways. But now, at the centre, perched a wyvern. It curled one sharp stone claw over the edge of the fresco, staring down at everyone who came up the steps below. Its wings were half furled, baring sharp points. It looked like a dangerous gargoyle about to strike. Maggie eyed it contemplatively. Was this how people had seen her, that day? To her it had been a strategic position from which to attack the Chitauri gathered on the steps.
She sighed, nodded to the library Director, and then followed him inside to meet the librarians on duty. She didn't know how she felt about the wyvern statue, but she supposed that wasn't the point. Because the statue wasn't even really about her. It was what the Wyvern had become: a symbol. And symbols did not belong to one person alone.
A nice long one, I promise we'll hear more from the other Avengers next chapter! I'm so excited to be moving on to Phase 2 ;)
Reviews
DBZFAN45: I'm so glad you liked Maggie in the Battle of New York! I had so much fun writing the long action scene so it's great that you enjoyed reading it. And Maggie certainly is brave for continuing to ask out the Black Widow haha. I'm glad you liked TFATWS as well, I'm so sad it's over! Getting serious withdrawals.
Guest: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked the scene with Tony and Maggie, I can't imagine what it would be like to watch your sibling disappear into outer space. No wonder she was mad! And you're right, it's definitely fun to explore Maggie's relationship with the other Avengers this time around, since she was more isolated in the Wyvern :)
The1975Love: When I first saw Sam's suit I was like 'huh' but you know what, it's kinda growing on me! That last scene was just precious, I need approximately all the footage of that cookout. Bated breath for the Loki show!
Morgzw: Thank you so much, hope you enjoyed the update!