(A/N): HELLO EVERYONE! I'm so sorry for the delay in getting this to you. I was going to update this story when I updated my others at the end of 2021, but my computer betrayed me and deleted part of this chapter so I had to rewrite a couple of scenes. I can't even begin to tell you how frustrated I was. But it's fine. I managed to recover rather quickly all things considered.

Thanks to SixFtWookie, badwolffor3ver, Aimless reation, Abbey Carolyn, , AEdmo13, HisBrokenAngel91, cawashburn21, stars-for-dreams, Khione Eurus, Imtooinvestedbutohwell, General Mac, GS, DOAWOTA, canissicion, Adharablack85-2, crity2re, Beauty Eclipsed, aureliandreams, Westcoast222, NYFanFic, Breyanaxo, Catzandbookz8, Silas Serenity, Stephanie MRV, and Guests for reviewing! I love you all so dang much, I hope you know that.

Alright guys, I have a very important thing to request from you. I'm having trouble with the opening and closing scenes for the next few chapters and I'm hoping you can help me. What would you like to see? What burning questions do you currently have? Are there any characters you would like some more insight from? Let me know what you're hoping for and I'll see what I can do. Also, I need you all to talk me out of starting another Marvel/HP story with Tony raising baby Hermione. I have too much on my plate. I don't need to do it. I don't. (If I say it enough it'll be true, right? Right.)

I also wanted to remind you all that I don't hate Harry. I really don't. Harry got the short straw when it came to his upbringing. I feel like it was a canon fact that there was very little balance in his life and very few people to call him on his crap. In this story, after the war, it was just easier for him to go with the flow because it made things calm and stable in his life, something he basically never had before and something he desperately wanted after losing so much so quickly. Hermione's return is making him think. It's making him change. But change is slow going. It takes time. So, keep an open mind, okay?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go work on my other stories. Including another Knives Out/HP fic because I have no self control. Also, I just really enjoyed how several you took a chance and read the story preparing to judge and walked out wondering what happened and why you loved it so much. I live for your bewilderment.

This chapter is unbetaed so please forgive any mistakes I missed.

Thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Harry calmly met Kingsley's gaze from where he sat in front of the Minister's desk.

"You can't be on this case," Kingsley told him bluntly.

"I know," Harry responded simply. "It'd be a conflict of interest."

Kingsley seemed relieved that he wasn't going to argue. "I know how difficult it's been for you lately, Harry. With all of these incidents and Hermione's return… I'd understand if you were feeling overwhelmed."

It took every ounce of self-control that Harry had managed to scrap together since leaving Hogwarts to not laugh hysterically at that particular understatement. He forced his expression to remain calm and his voice even as he asked, "Have there been any leads about who might have taken Ron?"

The older man frowned. "Harry," he started, tone rebuking, and it raised his hackles. He wasn't a child anymore. He didn't need someone leading him around by his nose and telling him where to go and what to think.

"Kingsley," he interrupted, a faintly mocking edge to his tone. "You know as well as I that all I have to do is step into my office and everyone will be falling over themselves to bring me up to speed on this case out of a desperate need to impress me. You can either tell me now, or they can. The outcome will be the same either way."

Sitting back in his chair, Kingsley's eyes turned hard. "You know how dedicated the people under you are. They're doing everything they can to figure out what happened."

"I see. Is that just a more politically correct way of saying that they're trying to figure out how to logically explain how Hermione's responsible for this?" When the Minister stayed silent, Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Kingsley, this is getting ridiculous. Hermione didn't kidnap Skeeter. She didn't desecrate Dumbledore's grave. And she had absolutely nothing to do with Ron's disappearance. The more time you waste focusing on her, the more time the actual criminals have to get away."

Kingsley shook his head. "You're too close to this, Harry. You're not seeing things clearly."

"Yes, I am. For the first time in ages, everything is crystal clear to me. You want Hermione to be guilty of something because you don't want anyone supporting her if she were to ever make a move against Wizarding Britain. You're the one not seeing things clearly. Hermione is a celebrity in the muggle world. I bet it's ridiculously easy to verify where she was at the time of each incident."

Suddenly, a possibility that hadn't occurred to Harry before popped into his head. "Do you even have any intention of finding the people responsible for these incidents?"

"And what do you mean by that?" Kingsley asked, voice cold. "Are you trying to accuse me of something?"

"MACUSA has shown that they're not going to let any of us near Hermione. They wouldn't hesitate to accuse us in front of the IWC of harassing one of their citizens. It'd be an international incident that we can't afford right now. All that means that we should be hoping that someone- anyone- other than Hermione is responsible for these crimes so that they can actually be brought in. Instead, you're doubling down that it has to be Hermione, someone who we can't even publicly accuse of the crime let alone arrest. Which makes it seem like you have no intention of solving these crimes. But that can't be right, can it?"

Kingsley's silence told him everything he needed to know.

"You really didn't have to come," Hermione told Steve as they made their way through Hell's Kitchen.

"I don't mind," he reassured her. "I'd like to properly meet Frank. Besides, it's actually nice to be able to walk around the city again. Haven't really had the chance to since before the battle." Glancing around at some of the still-damaged buildings, Steve added, "There hasn't been much clean-up work done here, has there?"

"No," she sighed, shifting the way the strap of her bag fell on her shoulder. The weight of six boxes of chocolate caused the bag to sit oddly. Mia was going to kill Billy the next time she saw him. "Hell's Kitchen was basically ignored in the initial rebuilding efforts, and they only just now started fixing it up. Though, Fisk's attempted takeover slowed things down dramatically."

Moving closer to her, Steve's voice dropped slightly. "Have you been keeping an eye on Fisk still?"

"I've been trying," Hermione murmured, placing her hand in the crook of Steve's elbow to make their position seem more natural to the onlookers they were sure to have. "The feed for the prison is apparently on a closed loop. Which means that if I want access to it, I'll actually have to go to the prison and access their security system directly. I plan on making a trip out there in the next few weeks."

Hesitating for a moment, Steve requested, "Please take someone with you when you do. I know you can take care of yourself," he hastily added before she could even look at him, "but I'd feel better knowing you weren't alone and, if you were to be caught, it'd look a little less suspicious if you weren't by yourself."

"I think being caught loitering around a secure federal prison is going to look suspicious no matter how many people I have with me," she responded dryly. "But I do plan on bringing either Frank or Jessica with me when I go."

Steve nodded, looking slightly relieved, and then changed the subject. "I know the reason behind your friendship with Frank, but how did you and Jessica meet?"

Nibbling on her lip for a handful of seconds, Hermione finally asked, "Do you remember the rumors a few months ago about an enhanced being who was able to control people using the sound of his voice?"

He instantly knew who she was talking about. "Kilgrave, right? I know S.H.I.E.L.D. was interested in him, especially after he kidnapped that girl- Hope- and held her captive for a few weeks before making her kill her family. Isn't he dead?"

"He is. Jessica was one of the people initially investigating him. In fact, she was the P.I. that was hired by Hope's parents to find her. We met when I was searching for Kilgrave."

"By yourself?" Steve asked, a little horrified.

"It's not as though his powers were ever going to work on me," Hermione pointed out, rolling her eyes. "If it helps, Jessica was just as upset as you about the fact that I was looking for him on my own."

She refrained from stating that Jessica was more angry at her stupidity than concerned about her safety.

They turned onto Frank's street just in time to see a large number of men in dark suits coming out of Frank's apartment building, one of whom was carrying a struggling and whining Max.

Hermione froze for a moment before taking off down the street, Steve right on her heels. "Hey!" she shouted. "What are you doing with my dog?!"

The men all turned to face her, expressions going slack with surprise when they saw Iron Man's younger sister and Captain America running up the street. The man who was holding Max loosened his grip in his shock and the dog broke free, falling to the ground and taking off towards Hermione and Steve.

Leaning down just enough that she could brush her hand over his head once he was close enough, Hermione almost flinched at just how badly Max was shaking. Sending a wave of comfort towards him, her gaze flicked between the men.

"Well?" she demanded. "Do one of you care to tell me just what the hell you think you're doing?"

They all glanced towards a middle-aged man with red hair who was wearing sunglasses and a dark grey suit. "Sorry," one of them finally spoke, sounding unsure. "Did you just say that that's your dog?"

"I did," Hermione responded calmly, positioning herself in front of Max. "And I'm still waiting for an answer on what you were trying to do with him."

"I believe there's been some kind of mistake," the ringleader finally spoke in a thick, Irish brogue, pulling his sunglasses off. "That's our dog."

She raised an eyebrow. Was that really how they wanted to play it? "You must be the one mistaken," she replied evenly. "Because you see, before I took in this dog, he was being used in an illegal dog fighting ring. And you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

He grimaced, clearly aware of the fact that the once empty street was now beginning to fill as people noticed who was standing there. Fear of the Kitchen Irish wasn't as strong as the need to see the great Captain in person. "No, of course not," he finally said, and Hermione could tell that he was desperately trying to figure out how the information he had just received factored into whatever he knew about Frank. "Our apologies- it seems we did make a mistake."

Hermione couldn't keep a smirk from appearing on your face. "Yes," she agreed. "Yes, you did."

Being careful to keep her gaze from flicking towards Frank, who was standing in the shadows of a van parked across the street, Hermione tilted her chin towards the cars belonging to the remaining members of the Kitchen Irish. "I highly suggest you gentlemen move along. After all, you have no other business here, do you?"

Despite being clearly annoyed and confused at her interference, the men got into their cars and took off.

"What was that all about?" Steve demanded, as Hermione finally knelt down and began to run her hands over Max, checking for any injuries.

"That was the Kitchen Irish," she murmured. "One of the gangs involved in the shooting at Central Park."

Steve inhaled sharply. "They're looking for Frank."

"So it seems."

Once Hermione was sure that Max was fine, she stood and turned to look at where Frank had been standing, but he was gone. Her phone vibrated in her purse and she dug it out, seeing that Frank had sent her a message asking her to bring Max back with her to the tower and that he'd come by later that evening.

"We better get going," she told Steve. "Poor Max needs someplace safe to calm down."

Looking down at the Pitbull, he asked, "Will he be fine walking back there, or should we ask Tony to send a car?"

She glared at him. "He's not going to attack anyone."

He gave her a chiding look. "I didn't say that. But, if anyone gets not wanting to be around a large amount of people after having a rough moment, it's us."

Hermione deflated. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. I just know that people have assumptions about Pitbull's, and I don't want Max to suffer because of that."

Steve began to lead her down the street, Max sticking close to her side. "Yeah, well, it's going to be worse if anyone finds out that he was saved from a dog-fighting ring. I've heard most of those dogs have to be put down because they can never be properly rehabilitated."

"Maybe some, but not Max. He's a sweetheart, and once he's got some food and water in him, he's going to be fine. He knows that we- and by that I mostly mean Frank- won't let anything happen to him."

A small smile appeared on Steve's face at that, but he didn't say anything else as they made their way back to the tower.

Frank's timing was impeccable as always- he arrived at the tower hours later, not long after Steve had left to attending a meeting with Fury.

As soon as he stepped into her apartment, he made a beeline for Max, who was already racing towards his partner. "He okay?" Frank grunted, running his hands over Max in the exact same way Mia had before.

"He's fine," she reassured him, not moving from her spot on the couch. "They just scared him."

Sitting down the floor, Frank allowed Max to almost climb into his lap. "Fucking bastards," he swore, scratching gently behind Max's ears.

Pulling her legs up onto the cushion and wrapping her arms around them, Mia rested her chin on her knees and asked, "How the hell did they find you, Frank?"

"They made their way through Hell's Kitchen terrorizing every fucking bartender that worked in a place frequented by the Irish," he spat. "A guy remembered me from when I was doing recon. Told'em he saw me going into a pet store. The owner saw me walking Max, knew where I lived."

She sighed. "Are the bartender and pet store owner alright?"

"Bartender is. Owner got a gunshot wound right above the elbow. He'll live. No guarantees about the arm."

Mia was almost surprised that it wasn't worse. "Was there anything in the apartment linking it to you?" she questioned, trying to remember if anything had stood out to her from her previous visits.

Frank was quiet for almost a minute before admitting, "Was able to sneak in after you guys left. Saw they had been messing with my maps."

"The Central Park Carousal tickets," she groaned, remembering how Frank had pinned his family's tickets to the map on the wall. "If one of the men in your apartment was either there or knew about it, then they might be able to piece things together."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But it looked like you and Cap's presence threw them off. For all they know, could just be that you guys are looking into what happened."

"And we would have an apartment stocked with enough weapons to take out three major gangs, why?"

"Nobody said the Irish were smart."

She gave a derisive laugh. "Nobody said they were stupid either." When Frank just shrugged again, Mia asked, "What are you going to do now?"

"Plan hasn't changed," he stated.

"I didn't think it would. However, your apartment is compromised. For now, I would like it if you and Max stayed here."

Frank looked up from Max, meeting her gaze for a moment before glancing away. "Doubt your brother or Cap would appreciate me hanging around."

"On the contrary, I think Steve would be relieved to know you're safe." Hesitating for a moment, she admitted, "I told him about Reyes."

He stiffened. "He know what I've been doing?"

"I have no idea. But if he does, he hasn't said anything."

They sat in silence for several minutes as Frank considered her suggestion. Mia didn't rush him, knowing that feeling pressured would only make him lash out. Frank would probably rather opt to just camp out on rooftops than stick around Stark Tower, but he wouldn't do that to Max. And if he tried to leave Max here while he went out to put some half-baked plan into action, she was going to string him up by his toes. Max needed safety and comfort, and, to him, that was Frank.

"This doesn't change anything," he finally reminded her.

Mia rolled her eyes. "Have I once asked you to stop in all the time we've known each other? Have I ever even implied that I think you should? And don't bring up the fact that I asked you not to die doing this," she quickly added when Frank opened his mouth. "That doesn't count, and you know it."

Frank grunted. "Fine. I'll stay here for one night."

"Two nights," she negotiated. "Tomorrow night is Steve's birthday, and we all have to attend the ridiculous party being thrown for him, so none of us will even be here to bother you. We can figure out our options the next day."

Sighing, he asked, "Suppose you want me to play nice?"

Now that she had gotten Frank to agree to stay there, Mia relaxed back into the couch cushion. "That, or we can invite Jessica over again. Then your bad behavior wouldn't stand out as much."

He let out a short bark of laughter and for a brief moment, Hermione was sitting in the library at Grimmauld Place, listening to Sirius and Remus bicker. The image faded away as quickly as it came.

"Rogers sleeping in the guest room?" Frank asked.

"Yes. Your options are either crashing in my study or down in one of the guest suites if you want a bit more privacy."

Fingers restlessly tapping against his leg, he said, "If you can promise that Stark won't bother me, then I'd rather crash in a guest suite." His lip curled as he said the words, and Mia knew that Frank hated even the idea of being in a space that had such a fancy title.

Standing up, Mia told him, "Don't worry, it's nowhere near as terrible as you're thinking. It's honestly just a slightly bigger hotel room. I'll even make sure the bed is as uncomfortable as possible, just for you."

Finally giving a small smile, Frank shifted Max off of him and stood up. "Good enough."

After setting Frank and Max up on one of the lower floors, Mia went back upstairs and headed straight to bed. When she came out of her room the next morning, she found Steve in the kitchen, poking at a pan on the stove.

"Good morning," she greeted, sliding onto one of the stools at the island so she could watch him work.

"Morning." Steve turned to look at her with a smile. "Coffee or tea?"

"Coffee." She watched as he walked over to one of the cupboards and pulled out a mug. "What time did you end up getting back last night?"

He placed the cup into the far-too-complicated coffee machine that JARVIS controlled. "Not till almost one. Fury has a mission lined up for me on the seventh, so I'll have to head back to D.C. tomorrow."

"Well, at least he's letting you have a small break instead of having you fly out from here," Hermione offered dryly. "Is he still making you bring an entire STRIKE Team on every mission?"

"Yep," Steve sighed, bringing Hermione her coffee. "Usually along with either Clint or Natasha."

Hermione's brows rose in surprise. "That's overkill, isn't it?"

"Yeah. To be honest, I'm starting to get a little suspicious about what his reasons actually are."

"I'd be more worried about how upset the STRIKE Teams must be getting," she admitted. "I'm sure they saw a lot more action before you came onto the scene."

Going back over to the stove, Steve began putting together a plate of scrambled eggs mixed with a variety of vegetables and bacon. "I'd be fine with leaving them to handle things; most of the ops could honestly be done without me."

"Yes, but then when would Fury show you off to the other government organizations and brag about how S.H.I.E.L.D. was able to steal away the Army's former golden boy?" she teased, picking at the food that Steve had placed in front of her.

Steve chuckled. "I'm honestly surprised that I haven't been harassed more by the army. Guess word about what you guys did to General Ross has made the rounds."

"All Pepper and I did was remind Ross of every foolish decision he's ever made," Hermione defended. "Tony was the one who bought Ross' favorite bar because Ross tried to throw him out of it and then demolished it out of pure spite." The seriousness of her statement was lessened due to the fact that she couldn't help smiling while remembering what Tony did.

"And you would have done the exact same thing if you could have managed it," he pointed out, also grinning.

"I really would have," she agreed with a laugh, finally beginning to eat.

Steve made himself a plate with almost three times the amount of food as Hermione and then joined her at the island. "What time did Frank stop by to pick up Max?"

"About an hour or so after you left for your meeting. He and Max are staying in one of guest rooms downstairs for the next few days while we figure out what our next step should be."

And then Steve asked the question that Hermione had been dreading. "Why are the Irish coming after Frank? I get why Reyes would want to kill him in order to protect herself, but why would the Irish?"

Hermione knew she had two choices- tell Steve the truth and deal with the inevitable fallout or do what he would call lying but she viewed as more of a carefully chosen truth. The fact that it was early in the morning on his birthday made her choice easier.

"There's been an uptick in gang violence over the last few weeks," she answered. "The Kitchen Irish, the Mexican Cartel, and the Dogs of Hell have all experienced significant losses and are out for blood. Frank has been keeping an eye on those gangs since they were all part of the shooting at Central Park. When he found out the Irish were running an illegal dog-fighting club, he attacked them and saved Max. Because he took Max, I'm guessing they assumed that he was responsible for the other attacks that have been done on the Irish- especially because there was evidence in his apartment that he was at Central Park the day of the shooting."

Her father would be so proud at that fact that there was not a single lie in that entire statement.

"But he's just one guy," he protested. "It'd be suicide for one guy without any special abilities to go after three gangs."

"Well, now that they've seen us, I imagine they think that we're assisting Frank with taking down the gangs."

Steve frowned. "None of us have ever gotten involved in smaller-scale operations like taking out street gangs. Not that I think we're too good to care about them," he hastily added. "But that's not really the level of crime we deal with, so that's kind of a stretch."

"Isn't it?" Hermione responded lightly. "But I'm sure the gangs- especially the Irish- must be feeling pressured to find a solution to the problem as quickly as possible. And Frank presents as the perfect scapegoat, doesn't he?"

He shook his head, glowering down at his plate. "It sounds like this is getting out of hand."

"You are not wrong," she muttered, before changing the subject. "I have to go meet Jessica this morning, but are you free this afternoon?"

Forcing himself to shake off his somber mood, Steve looked up at her again. "Yeah. I know Pepper wants to go over the guest list for tonight's party with me over lunch, but I've got nothing planned after that."

"Perfect! I'll come pick you up from Pepper's office at about half past one so I can give you your present."

Steve's gaze shifted away as he turned slightly red with embarrassment. "You didn't need to get me anything."

Hermione stood up, taking her now empty plate over to the sink to rinse it off before placing it in the dishwasher. "Yes, I did."

Glancing down at her outfit, she decided that it was fine enough for visiting Jessica; it's not like the other woman gave one whit about her own appearance, let alone anyone else's.

Walking over to the door and grabbing her keys, Hermione called, "I know you'd like to speak to Frank, but I don't think he's up for company right now. I've told Tony the same thing, but if you wouldn't mind reminding him and Pepper of that, I would appreciate it."

"Of course. Have fun."

On her way to Jessica's apartment, Mia stopped to pick up coffee and scones. She knew that Jessica wouldn't have any food, and Mia also knew that she was likely to be hungry again in an hour or so- Steve always had trouble remembering that she could eat almost as much as him.

When she stopped outside Jessica's door, she found that it was already unlocked.

Sighing, Mia stepped inside. "How many times do I have to tell you to lock your door?"

"I don't know," Jessica snarked, stepping out of her bedroom wearing nothing more than a tank top and underwear. "How many times do I have to tell you that someone would have to be stupid to try and break in here?"

"Yes, because the world is filled with smart people."

Mia held out Jessica's coffee and the bag of baked goods. "Peace offering for waking you up so early. Well, early for you."

"Don't even start," she warned, taking the offered items. "I was up late last night at Castle's old house because someone broke in."

Blinking in surprise, Mia asked, "Was it one of Reyes' people?"

Sitting down on one of the chairs in front of her desk, Jessica shrugged. "Not at first, but apparently we're not the only one keeping an eye on the place. Some blond chick broke in and then maybe ten minutes later a van full of hired guns showed up. Not sure if they were with Reyes or if we've got another player on the board- possibly Blacksmith." Swallowing down a large gulp of black coffee, she gestured with her chin towards some pictures still sitting in her printer's tray. "Took some pictures of everyone so we can try to I.D. them."

Maneuvering around the crowded room, Mia took the photos and began flipping through them. She didn't recognize any of the men, but the blond woman looked familiar. "Where have I seen you before?" she murmured, staring at the woman's face with furrowed brows.

"She seemed familiar to me too," Jessica said. "But I can't remember where I might have come across her. Definitely not in one of my previous cases, I know that."

Mia finally set the picture down on top of the others. "If it's alright with you, I'll bring these back with me and see if JARVIS can't find a match."

The P.I. shrugged. "Whatever. Your case."

"Are you saying you're not even slightly invested in this?" Mia teased.

Jessica scowled at her but said nothing.

She decided to change the subject before Jessica actually started getting angry. "The Kitchen Irish managed to track down Frank."

Jessica's brows shot up. "Seriously? How the hell did they manage that?"

"They started at some of the bars frequented by their members because they figured that's where Frank got most of his information about them, which led them to the pet shop where Frank bought most of Max's things, and that led them to Frank's apartment. He wasn't home at the time, but Steve and I arrived just in time to see them trying to abscond with Max."

"Bet that went over real well," Jessica snorted. "Wonder how many of them almost shit themselves to see the fucking Stark Princess and Captain America coming at them for dog-napping."

"Frank thinks it's likely that they know he's been targeting them because of the Central Park shooting," Mia admitted. "And since I claimed that Max was my dog, they're sure to assume that we at least know Frank, if not that we've been outright helping him. Things could get… messy."

"Yeah, because they were all nice and neat until now."

Mia rolled her eyes. "What I'm trying to say is that if you could keep an eye out for what they might be doing next, I would appreciate it. I'm worried about Frank. And you, if I'm being honest. If they do learn that you're involved with us, they might come after you. So, if you think you're in danger, then please tell me."

"I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved in this," Jessica grumbled, no real heat in her words. "It's never just small crap with you; you've always got to get involved in hardcore, conspiracy level shit."

She couldn't help laughing. "You have no idea how true that statement is."

"And I don't want to." Ripping off a piece of a cinnamon scone, Jessica nodded her head towards a cardboard box sitting on a table near the door and said, "I grabbed some stuff from Frank's house while I was out there. Hope you were telling the truth about him being alright with us going in there."

"I was," Mia reassured her, wandered over to the table. "He… he couldn't bring himself to go inside on his own, but he said it was alright if we did."

She had just been intending to just give the box a quick once over in order to see if she would be able to comfortably carry it home. At first glance, it seemed that Jessica had just grabbed a collection of pictures and a few stuffed animals. Then her gaze caught onto a small picture book that had a blue cover with two small bears on it. One Batch, Two Batch.

Her heart felt like it was lodged into her throat and she couldn't breathe.

One night when Frank and Max had crashed at the tower with her, she and Frank had found themselves in the living room after they'd each woken from a nightmare. They'd sat there in the dark, trying to draw comfort from the sound of the other's breathing, and then Frank had begun to speak.

"One batch, two batch. Penny and dime. It was her favorite book."

Mia remembered tensing, scared to even breathe out of fear of pushing Frank into silence again.

"You know, you… you gotta cross the ocean and go fight. Whole time you're thinking you're going to be scared, right? But then, you're not. See, that part of it was always easy for me. Killing. Even watching my buddies die, it just… it didn't mean nothing.

"The first time I got scared was on a plane on the way home. I kept thinking God was gonna pull the rug out from under us, you know? Shit, that's his kind of funny, you know. But the plane landed safe and we were home. We passed fast food and donut shops and all that… that greasy shit. It's the shit you fought to protect and then the car stops. We were outside her school.

"I get to her classroom, right? She's in there… but she's got no idea. She's got no idea that Daddy's home. I walk in and these kids, they're not even studying, they're doing some kind of yoga. And she's there. She's bending and, you know, she's moving. She looks like a flower. And… you can't even understand it, you know. How does something like that have… how does something that beautiful… how does that… how does that come from me?"

She knew what it felt like to be on the other side of that feeling, knew how she felt every time she caught her father staring at her with those wide, awed eyes.

"And she looks up and she sees me. I see her. By God… that's real. That's real, Mia. And boom, in an instant she's across that classroom floor, she's in my arms. She's squeezing me so tight, I swear I was gonna bust a rib, you know. We just stayed there like that, we're holding each other. I was a rubber-face clown, you know. I cried so hard. But not my baby. Not my girl. You know, she's my girl. She's… she's not crying, she's holding me up. She says, 'I knew it, Daddy. I knew it.'

"And then we go home. Place is the exact same. It's like it was just holding its breath waiting for me to get back. Then it hit me. All of it. The first time I felt how tired I was, you know? I was just… tired. It's just… I couldn't do nothing. All the things… I was too tired, I couldn't even drink a goddamn beer. But not her. My girl was up.

"See, she wanted me to… she wanted me to tuck her in. She… she outgrew it, she knew it, but she didn't care. She wanted it. She had that book. Her favorite book was out on the pillows. One Batch, Two Batch… Penny and Dime.

"I read her that book every night before this shit. I read it every single night but see, that was over now… because Daddy's home now.

"She looked at me and she begged, Mia. She begged… she begged… and I said, 'No. Daddy's too tired, see. But I'll… I'll read to you tomorrow night. I'll read to you tomorrow night, I promise.' Never thought that for her, there was not gonna be any tomorrow. That the last time I'd see her, I'd be holding her lifeless body in my arms."

Mia couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. Couldn't fathom how much the memory was killing Frank on the inside because it would have been so simple, wouldn't it? Tucking his daughter in and reading her her favorite book. And he had said no. He was too tired.

"Mia?" Jessica asked, concern clear in her voice.

Tears were beginning to fall onto the bright blue book cover, now clutched firmly in her hands.

"I read her that book every night before this shit. I read it every single night but see, that was over now… because Daddy's home now."

"Why did you take this?" she croaked, staring up at Jessica.

"I… I don't know. I saw it sitting out and… I mean, I knew Frank's daughter was eleven and that's clearly a little kid book. But it was sitting out and it had obviously seen a lot of use so I just…" Jessica hesitated, clearly feeling off-kilter.

"This was Lisa Castle's favorite book," Mia finally told her, wiping her tears off the cover. "One batch, two batch. Penny and dime. It's what Frank says every time before he pulls the trigger."

Jessica hissed, looking down at her hands. "Shit. Should I… I'll put it back."

Mia hugged the book to her chest. "No. It's alright. I think… even if Frank doesn't want it now, he'll want it later. I'll keep it safe till then."

The tiny, worn picture book represented the love between a father and daughter. It showed that bond better than any picture could. So, while she knew it would break Frank's heart to see it right now, Mia knew that it was important that she kept it safe for when Frank was ready to see it again. For his sake. And, more importantly, for Lisa's.

Loki, Carol, Talos, and the many Skrull scientists they had been working with all peered around the protective shields that had been erected before the experiment had started. It took a moment for their minds to comprehend what that lack of red particles in the enclosed case meant.

They had done it.

They had finally managed to reforge the Reality Stone.

The Skrull's were almost shaking with relief while Carol and Loki just looked victorious.

Stepping out from behind the shields, the two immortals hurried forward.

There, sitting at the bottom of the clear case was a sparkling red stone.

"We did it," Carol breathed. "We actually did it."

Loki was smiling widely. "Yes, we did. We finally have the Reality Stone- the most powerful of the Infinity Stones."

Talos joined them. "I can't believe we aren't all dead right now."

Carol rolled her eyes. "Oh ye of little faith. Of course it wasn't going to kill us."

"Don't try to act like you didn't have any doubts," her friend warned. "You were just as worried as I was."

"No, I wasn't," she refuted. "I knew it wouldn't."

She was telling the truth. The vision her daughter had shared with her of the Reality Stone's location had told her that much. The stone had wanted to be found by them. Or, more specifically, had wanted to be found by Mia.

Loki glanced over at her. "Thanos' daughter claimed that she could help us located the Power and Soul stones, correct?"

"Don't call her that," Carol immediately snapped. She'd spent enough time with Gamora to know how much she despised being associated with the monster who massacred her people. Loki wasn't as accepting as Carol was though.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you trust that Gamora is telling the truth?"

"I do."

Talos reached out to open the case. "So, you're saying we should soon have four Infinity Stones in our possession? Are you two prepared for the fight that'll begin the moment our enemies catch on to what we're doing?"

"Yes," Loki answered confidently. "However, by the time they understand our intentions, it will be far too late to challenge us. With so many stones in our possession, it would be suicide to come for us."

"And what happens if it's not you they strike at first?"

Carol shrugged. "That's why we grabbed the Tesseract first. If someone tries to go for one of our weak points, we can get there in the blink of an eye. But to be honest, I'm more worried about beating Thanos to the stones Gamora's aware of than about hypothetical attacks. The sooner we can get those, the sooner we can start working out how to cut Thanos off at the knees."

Talos sighed. "I hope you two know what you're doing."

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