From the Ashes

Introduction

This story starts, as so many do, with a happy, heartwarming moment.

My husband and I met and married many years ago, and then moved to a beautiful farmstead in Missouri. It was located far from town, in an idyllic plot of land bordered on three sides by a large oak forest. Nearby, there was a large, shallow stream ideal for floating toy boats and, during the summer months, the wheat fields grew thick and tall, creating shimmering fields of gold that rippled in the wind and positively glowed at sunset. It was a world removed from the world, safe from harm and free from complications, and I loved it.

Although Clint was coming and going on various jobs, I was never short of things to do; the farmhouse needed my constant attention and endless tinkering, and then of course, there was our family. Cooper came first, followed shortly by Lila and then finally little Nat. When they were old enough, I found a place for them in a nearby school, but during the holidays and the evenings I used to sit on the porch and watch them play tag in the field, or hunt monsters in the forest. Sometimes, we all used to go and float little paper ships in the stream that had shown so much promise, and then we would roast marshmallows over a firepit in the yard.

We were not completely isolated from the world. We heard all about the invasion of New York, the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the loss of Novi Grad - first from the news, and then later from Clint, upon his return. However, these things were always far away, and I never thought that they would intrude on my precious little world, with its precious little treasures.

In hindsight, that may have been a bit of a mistake.

Chapter One: On the blink

The day that the world changed forever was one of those perfect spring days; warm, but without the oppressiveness of the summer sun. The air was fresh, with a slight breeze from the northwest, and the sounds of birdsong filled the air as returning bluebirds and wrens began to take up residence for the summer ahead. It was the kind of day that demanded outdoor family activities, and so (after separating Cooper from his phone) we dutifully trooped outside and had some good ol fashioned quality time on the back lawn.

Eventually, though, even Clint and Cooper got tired of playing touch football, and my stomach reminded me that it was probably time for lunch. The instant I suggested that the children might want to pitch in, however, Lila suddenly decided that she would much rather spend some one-on-one time with her father, and Nate was suddenly off towards the forests, looking for bugs, beetles, and butterflies in the still-growing cornfields. Cooper set off after him, giving me a glance that was only slightly apologetic as they waded into the tall grass.

"Fine," I said, and sighed. It wasn't like I needed an army to make hotdogs, anyway.

"Want some help?" Clint offered. With a laugh, I kissed him and then shooed him off.

"Go - go and spend some time with Lila," I said, and then added, "You can make it up to me tonight."

"I'm sure I can find a way," he said, with a roguish smirk, and then he was gone. Shaking my head, I went inside to see what I could rustle up.

A short while later, I brought the hotdogs out and laid them on the chequered tablecloth, alongside everything else one needed for a slap up family lunch. Finally satisfied, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Life was good. It might not have been for everyone, but it was for us.

With a big smile, I said, "Hey guys! Enough practice, soup's on!" and turned to grab a hotdog before the oncoming hordes reached the table-

Snap

-and missed. The hotdogs were suddenly gone. Not just gone, but gone, along with everything else on the table. The plates, cutlery, condiments and tablecloth had vanished, as if they'd never been there. The table itself had changed, too; the new coat of varnish that I'd applied only last week was now cracked and broken, and as I staggered and caught myself on the table it cracked audibly and released a puff of dust.

"What the-" I gasped, and stepped back in surprise. Even the light had changed; the clear blue sky was now filled with clouds that scudded across the sun, casting a dreary pallor over the previously pristine day, "What's going on?"

"Mom? Mom!" I heard Cooper's voice ring out across the yard, and turned to see him burst out across the overgrown, tangled mess that was previously a cornfield, dragging Nathaniel behind him, "What's-"

"I don't know," I said, fighting to keep my voice level.

"You've got to stay calm, Laura," my mind cut in instantly, "You've got to stay calm for the kids."

"Where's Lila? And your father?"

"She was over by the garage," said Cooper, breathlessly, "with dad-"

There was a blood-curdling scream from around the side of the house.

"Lila!" I screamed and, throwing caution to the winds, sprinted around the side of the house to find her crumpled on the floor next to a discarded bow, screaming something indistinguishable over and over again as she scrabbled at the dirt.

"What's wrong?" I said urgently, and knelt down beside her, "What's wrong, honey? What's-"

My daughter looked up at me, her face streaked with tears and horror etched across her face, "It's...its dad. He vanished, mom! One moment he was here and then-"

Vanished. I could already feel the vomit rising in my throat, but with a superhuman effort forced it back down and drew Lila into a close hug.

"It's okay, honey. We're going to sort all this out. You'll see...it's all going to be fine."

There was a crunch of gravel from behind me as Cooper and Nathan arrived.

"Is she okay, mom?" he said anxiously, "Where's dad?"

"He's gone, Coop!" Lila cried out, "Gone!"

"Gone where?"

"He just...disappeared!"

"Maybe you should try phoning him, mom," my son suggested, "He could have just gone round the side-"

"No! He's gone! I saw him vanish!"

"You don't know what you saw!" Cooper shouted, causing Nathaniel to burst into tears.

"Lila! Coop! Be quiet!" I snapped, my control slipping for just a moment, "Okay. I'll call Dad. You both just wait here for a moment, and keep an eye on Nate!"

By now, my heart was hammering in my chest and I could already feel the tears begin to well up in my eyes. Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and headed into the garage, trying to ignore the piles of dust and smell of decay as I pushed open the door. Feeling around in the dark, I reached for the lightswitch but was not entirely surprised when nothing happened. Right now, it didn't matter. I just needed to call Clint. Call Clint, find out where he was, find out what was going on. Just...one step at a time, right? He was probably fine and had just gone off to investigate. Lila had to have been mistaken; people don't just vanish into thin air.

"Yeah, but hotdogs don't either," my brain said treacherously, "And what was in that fertiliser you put on the lawn? Super soldier serum?"

"Be quiet," I muttered to myself, and took my phone out of my pocket. My hand was shaking so much it took me several attempts to unlock it, but eventually I managed to swipe over to Clint's face and hit the call button.

"Please pick up, babe," I begged, "Please…"

The phone rang again, and again, and my heart began to sink. Then there was a click.

"Clint?" I said breathlessly, "Clint?"

There was a pause, and I almost fancied that I could hear someone choking on the other side of the phone.

"Honey?" his voice, when it came, was so thick it was difficult to understand, "Honey!"

"Clint!" I said, and felt relief flood through me, "Where are you, Clint? I-"

The line erupted into a sudden roar, loud enough for me to jerk the phone reflexively away from my ear. A moment later, I heard another pair of violent detonations followed by the shriek of twisting metal and collapsing masonry. There was a very final-sounding crunch, and the line went dead.

For a long, horrible moment I stared blankly at the phone, then my legs buckled in shock and I fell to my knees.

"Oh, no."

I'm not entirely sure how long I sat there, but a commotion outside stirred me back to wakefulness. Slowly (and with some assistance from the wall) I clambered to my feet and staggered outside to find my children gathered around a yellowed envelope.

"Cooper? Lila? What have you got there?" I said, still desperately fighting to keep my voice level.

"Mom, I think we know what's happened!" Cooper said, "Look. Look at this letter!"

The letter was waved in front of my face, and I had just enough time to make out the logo of our local water company.

"What? What is i- Coop, stop fluttering that around my face!" I snapped, and roughly snatched it out of his grasp.

Cooper looked momentarily abashed, but then said "Look at the date, mom. It's-"

"February 1st, 2023," I breathed, "2023...that can't be right. That's...five years. We've travelled five years into the future."

"That does make sense," my traitorous brain remarked, clinically, "It would explain everything, except why Clint exploded just after you rang him."

"Somebody had to print this letter, Mom," my son added, "It looks like its been out in the weather for a bit, too."

"Did you talk to dad, mom?" Lila said suddenly, cutting into my reverie.

"What? Oh, yes, for just a moment," I said, distantly, "He was...okay."

"Liar."

"When is he coming home?" she said, "When? When?"

"I don't know," I said, softly.

"When?"

"I don't know!"

"When?"

"I don't know, Lila!" I shouted, my resolve finally cracking entirely, "I don't know anything! I don't know what's going on or why this letter exists or where your dad is!"

I sat down heavily, and tears streamed down my cheeks as I whispered, "I don't know…"

"What if…" Cooper said slowly, as if he was considering something horrible, "What if we travelled forwards in time, but dad...didn't?"

"Bingo. Give that kid a prize!" there was a sound of mental applause, "You know, sometimes it's hard to believe that he's really our son."

"That wouldn't happen!" Lila wailed suddenly, "Dad wouldn't abandon us! He wouldn't!"

"Listen, children," with an effort I composed myself, "I don't know what is going on. What I do know is that we are all here together, and we are going to stay like that. We are a family; and this family sticks together no matter what. Now, until we find out exactly what is going on we are going to make sure that this house is cleaned up and ready for when your dad gets home, or so help me all three of you will be grounded for a month! Do you understand?"

"Aww, but-" Cooper began.

"No buts, Coop," I said sharply, "You can start by making sure we have enough firewood. Lila, check the larder to see if we have any food or fresh water. We may need to dip into Clint's emergency supplies."

"And Nate?" Lila said sullenly.

"Nate can sweep the garage," I said, and clapped my hands, "Alright, team, let's move!"

It was a dirty trick, but it was one that I knew would work. I had to keep them calm, and to keep them calm I had to keep them busy while I tried to get my head on straight. Was this really 2023? How did we get here? Why wasn't Clint here? What the hell was going on?

My phone buzzed in my pocket, catching me off guard. My heart leapt into my throat as I took it out, half expecting, half dreading news from Clint. Instead, the phone's newsfeed was displayed prominently on the lock screen, with the headline:

'BREAKING: 3.5 billion reappear spontaneously following five year absence'

My breath caught in my throat as I quickly unlocked the phone and pulled up further headlines:

'Confusion, joy, chaos as billions thought gone forever reappear five years later'

'They're back! Half of humanity reappears in a flash!'

'Avengers Compound in ruins following airstrike by alien dreadnought'

'Fierce battle rages between alien invaders and Avengers, reinforced by wizards, monks, robots, heavily armed animals, and at least one creature described as an 'Ent'.'

"Oh my god," I whispered, "We really did travel five years into the future."

"Sure looks like it. Along with half of the planet, too."

"And everyone left...thought we died?"

"Wouldn't you? Five years is a long time to be missing."

"But Clint didn't come with us, which means…" suddenly, the yawning feeling in the pit of my stomach opened wider, until it felt like it could swallow me whole, "Oh no. No!"

"Yup."

"That's just too cruel!"

"Maybe it wasn't so bad for him. Five years without you and the kids? Never ending bachelor party!"

"I-"

"Maybe he grieved, moved on, and met someone new. Maybe he got together with Natasha? I mean, she's a bit deadpan and she's definitely obsessed with ledgers, but she can also choke a man to death with her thighs. That has to be worth something in the bedroom."

"Just be quiet," I growled, "I need to think about what I'm going to tell the kids."

For want of anything better to do, I went to check on the children. Nate was, of course, making a total hash of sweeping the garage, but as long as he was entertained and wasn't eating bugs then that was fine by me. Instead, I followed the sounds of chopping wood round to the back of the house, where I found Cooper hefting short, mildewy logs onto a stump before bisecting brutally them with our axe. From his expression, it was pretty clear that he was both desperate for news and dreading whatever it might mean.

"Hey, kiddo," I said gently, as he set the axe down to retrieve another log, "How are you doing?"

"Dunno, mom," he said, with his trademark brutal honesty, "Any news from dad?"

"Nothing yet," I shook my head, and felt the anxiety spike deep inside me, "I'm sure he'll call when he can."

"Any idea what's going on?" he pressed, "Have we really gone to the future?"

"I'm...not sure yet," I lied, "I'm going to see if I can get the power on. If the television still works, maybe we can get the news."

"How about your phone? I think mine's upstairs, and if it's anything like this axe…" he held up the rusty, dull axe for emphasis, "Dad made me sharpen this just yesterday, too."

"No data," I lied again. The last thing him and Lila needed to hear about right now were pitched alien battles and the mass reappearance of half the human race. I needed time to process that myself, before I could sit them down and take them through it. Goodness, how was I going to tell Nate? "Look, I'm going to go inside and see how Lila's doing. You going to be okay out here?"

"Sure, mom. I'll be fine."

As it turned out my timing was excellent, as my phone buzzed noisily the very instant I was out of earshot. Once again, the dread pooled in my stomach as I pulled out my phone to see:

'VICTORY FOR AVENGERS as alien forces, warship dissolve in scenes reminiscent of five years ago'.

It was a relief, but not a huge one. There was a video link available, but I didn't dare watch it - partly for fear of alerting my children, but mostly because I definitely wasn't ready to find out what 'five years ago' had looked like. Instead, I put my phone away and went inside.

Lila wasn't in the kitchen, but it was easy enough to follow the trail of footprints upstairs to her room where I found her sitting on her bed, clutching at an old, mouldy teddy bear as she stared vacantly into space.

"Lila?" my tone was gentle but firm, as I sat down on the bed beside her, "Lila honey, I thought I asked you to check on the food and water."

"The food's bad and the water's bad, mom," she said, tonelessly, "I...found a couple days of rations and maybe four litres of water in Dad's bugout bag. There's some of those tablets, too - you know, the ones I tipped in the bath and he yelled at me?"

"I know," I said, and put my arm around her shoulders. It wasn't much, and Clint's emergency rations flawlessly combined the taste of wet dog with the rich, chewy texture of a winter tyre...but it would have to do.

"Is he gone, mom?"

"No, hon, no," I said, "I just talked to him, remember? He's real busy right now, but he'll call as soon as he can."

"What's more important than us, mom?"

"An all out alien invasion? Ents roaming the countryside of upstate New York?"

"Well, you know how sometimes he has to go away and he can't really talk to us?" I said gently, "It's like that."

"But he'll be back, right?" Lila looked up at me, suddenly very small, "He always comes back."

"And he always will," I said, reassuringly, "I guess if you've checked the rations, you can get to work on sorting out this pigsty. It was a mess before, and it's even more of a mess now."

"I can't find Mr. Scratchy, either," my daughter sighed, "I'm sure I left him on the bed. I'm sure of it."

"Maybe you'll find him if you tidy up a bit, then," I replied, "I can barely see the floor.

"I...think I heard a rat under the bed. If I catch it, can I keep it as a pet?"

"No!" I said, and ruffled her head, "Just chase it out of the house if you find it."

"Maybe we should keep it as a source of food," said my inner voice, "Those rations aren't great, and they aren't going to last forever."

"What're you going to do, mom?"

"I told Cooper that I was going to try and get the power on, but I think I'm firstly going to go through my room. Make sure everything's still there, okay?"

"It's been five years. Surprised looters haven't been here already."

I didn't really know what to expect when I entered the master bedroom, but it was pretty clear that I'd accidentally left the window open before I came down this morning. The room wasn't that dusty, but every surface was either covered in leaves, droppings, or a combination of the two. The bed was a mess, and although I couldn't see the en suite from the door, there was a pungent aroma hanging in the room that made me quite glad of that fact.

"This morning? Be honest with yourself, Laura. We weren't around this morning, or yesterday morning, or any of the two-thousand odd mornings before that. We were a non-entity. A nothing. Absent without leav-"

"You know what I mean," I said, stopping to pick up a tube of lipstick. The contents of my vanity were strewn all across the floor, and the mirror itself had been shattered by what looked to be a single, strong blow to the direct centre of the glass.

"No animal did that. There aren't any rocks or large branches in here, either."

"But if someone vandalised it, why didn't they take anything?" I flicked open my jewelry box, and the room was filled with the light of a dozen gems winking back at me, "See? They're all there."

"You're not being honest with yourself again, Laura."

"...I know," I said, and sat down heavily on my vanity stool, which responded by collapsing. Biting back a curse, I slowly clambered to my feet and put my hands on the vanity, staring at myself in the shattered glass.

"What am I going to do?" I said, and exhaled.

"Well, you could answer your phone."

Rather belatedly, I realised that the buzzing in the air wasn't some angry insect caught in a web, but the insistent vibrations of an incoming call. With my heart thudding in my chest, I pulled out the phone and saw 'Unknown number' plastered across the top. Dreading whatever might be coming, I took a long, deep breath and accepted the call.

"Good luck."

"H...hello?" I said, hesitantly.

"Laura?" Clint's voice echoed down the phone. He sounded tired, but also like he couldn't quite believe his ears, "Is…"

"Clint? It's me, honey, it's me," I said, the words tumbling out of my mouth, "I'm here. I'm...we're back."

"You're back...you're back!" Clint's voice cracked over the line, and I smiled happily.

"We're all back!" I said, "Me, and Cooper, and Lila, and Nate. 'Like we never went away."

There was no reply, but I could hear him sobbing openly on the line.

"I...saw the news, Clint. I know we've been gone for five years, and I'm so...so sorry," I took a deep, wracking breath and plunged on, "I'm so sorry for everything. But we're back now, and we are never going away again. Somehow I'll make these past five years up to you. Even if it takes me the rest of our lives, I'll find a way."

"I-I know, honey. It's all going to be okay," he said, audibly composing himself, "I have so much to tell you and the children."

"And I'll listen to it. Every word of it - for as long as you need to talk," I promised, "I love you so much, Clint."

"I love you too, honey," he said, and I could hear the tears creeping back into his voice again, "I'm going to take the Quinjet and come home right away. Can you stay on the phone until I take off? Can I talk to the children?"

"I'd love to-" my phone buzzed angrily, "-but my phone is just about to die on me. Just come home, Clint, and we can talk forever. Just come home."

Following that phone call, my memory of the rest of the day is...hazy. I rounded up the children to let them know that their dad was coming home as soon as possible, and then got to work doing as much as possible to get the farmhouse back to the state it was this morning.

"Just best not to think about it, right Laura? If you don't know what to do, do what you know."

Over the next four hours, we cleaned out the water tank, flushed the taps, swept the floor, dusted the ceiling, checked the fuse box, replaced a length of corroded piping, replaced a wobbly step, and cleaned all the plates and cutlery. Then (following a short break for lunch) I got the children to help me throw out the contents of the larder and drag the irretrievably disgusting fridge over to the road. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't much, but it was a start.

"Thanks, kids," I said, flopping back into a newly cleaned wooden chair, "See what we can do when we work together? It's almost as good as new!"

"When are we going to get power back, mom?" Cooper asked, suddenly, "I need my phone."

"I'd need to phone the power company…" I said, and with that thought, I felt my legs turn to jelly, "Actually, it might be better if dad does it. He'll be home soon."

"But I need my phone!" Cooper protested angrily, "What about my friends?"

"Good god; if you need to use your phone, then just hook it up to the generator!" I snapped, and then took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Coop."

"Sure, mom," he said, but then gave me a look that I wasn't entirely sure I liked, "I'll...go and see if there's any fuel around."

"You do that," I said, and put my head in my hands. Somewhere nearby, I could hear Lila and Nate playing together with some of his toys, and smiled ruefully. With all the electronics either out of power or totally destroyed, it was amazing what kids could do to pass the time.

"What's gotten you so spooked? It's just a phone call."

"It's...I don't want to talk about it," I groaned, and slipped lower in my seat, "Or think about it. I just want to close my eyes-"

From the other room, I heard Lila and Nate gasp and sit up. A moment later, and just on the edge of hearing, I heard a low, insistent roar that slowly built to a powerful crescendo as it passed overhead at a dangerously low altitude.

"Dad's home!" Lila screamed, and ran outside, "Dad's home, mom!"

In a flash I was on my feet, knocking the chair to the floor with a clatter as I ran outside. Lila, Cooper, and Nat were already running towards the descending jet as it touched down in a nearby field. As it bumped non-too-gently to the ground, the rear cargo door swung ponderously open…and there he was.

In that instant, the world went soft, and the Quinjet's engines suddenly sounded muted and far away. Slowly, carefully, I picked my way towards Clint as he caught Lila and Cooper in a rough bear hug, before kneeling down to ruffle Nat's hair and kiss him on the cheek.

Then he looked up and saw me, and as our gazes locked I smiled and felt my breath catch in my chest. Abandoning caution to the winds I rushed across the field and took his face wonderingly in my hands even as he did the same. For a moment we just stood there, too shocked to speak and too stunned to cry, and afraid to move unless this single, perfect moment was stolen from us.

"You're back," he said gruffly, "You haven't aged a day…"

"We haven't, but...Laura, look," my mind was clearly troubled, "Look at those lines. Look at that haircut. What's happened to him?"

"It doesn't matter now," I said, and then the tears came, "You left the house in such a tip, Clint! What have I told you about cleaning up after yourself?"

The smile on his face was like the sun coming up, and my heart soared in response.

"I've missed you all so much," he whispered, and then without another word pulled me in for a long, deep kiss.

And at that moment, I knew that whatever had happened, and whatever was going to happen, we could get through it together as a family.

In hindsight, that was a bit of a mistake.