The Hulk and the Beast: Chapter Nineteen

Night, Purple Planet

Lily spent most of the time Meriam planned for rest and recreation before bed practicing with her new bow. It felt weird taking time for recreation while they were running for their lives, but both Potter and Meriam insisted that it was important to keep up morale. They didn't know how long this journey would take and they couldn't afford to burn out when they were half way to safety.

Training with a weapon felt like the most efficient use of her time. Her bow thrummed in her hands like her wand did, felt a part of her like her wand did, and the arrows shot from the bow like spells. Despite how sore her arms were from flying all day, she still found the determination to practice trying to hit targets in the dark. She hit things, not everything she was aiming at, but she hit things.

Potter watched her the whole time. He tried to give her pointers. However, when he tried to take the bow and show her a thing or too – what did he know about archery anyway, the buffoon – it zapped him the way the Book zapped Black when he shook it.

"She who wields the bow has the might of the Archer, apparently," Meriam laughed, referencing one of Remus' stories from their soon to be new home.

Meriam spent her rest and recreation time playing her violin. Lily wouldn't have minded so much, if she stuck with happy, jaunty songs, to keep the mood light. But Meriam was like Black with her need to be dramatic in some fashion at least some of the time, and most of her songs were as mournful as they were beautiful.

Black spent his time flipping through the Book, claiming to be looking for the secrets of the universe that were supposed to be stored within. Instead he ended up reading a folktale from it, while Meriam played her mournful music. It paired quite nicely, accompanied on percussion by the twang-thwap of Lily's archery training.

The story Black read was about the Cosmic Wolves, the ones who supposedly wrote the book, or at least the people the Book was named after.

"Mighty warriors," Black read. "Oh, there's illustrations."

As soon as he said that, the book glowed and the image of said Mighty Warriors appeared over their campsite. It looked like the glowing screens made by Remus' new dad, Mr. Stark.

There were two warriors, one with a big beard, muscle bound with heavy armor, the other a lithe archer with long flowing hair and formfitting leather that helped her blend into the shadows. The warrior was wielding a sword made of shadows and a targe made of light. The archer had Skyfall in her hands and whip by her side.

"The Grey Wolves who uphold peace, truth, and balance," Black continued.

The man turned into a massive black wolf, the color of shadows with eyes that glowed like twin suns. The woman turned into a glowing white wolf with ice at her feet and blue flame bursting from her maw, her eyes as black as the night.

"Whoa, cool," Potter said, sitting up from where he was tending the fire. "Keep reading."

"Figures, the only way to get you two to read is with a picture book," Lily scoffed. But she found herself sitting next to Potter and gazing up at the story.

"They fought side by side for many battles," Black turned the page.

The images flashed, from the warriors in human form fighting armies of goblinoids and trolls, to them as wolves fighting demons and dragons. It was inspiring to see the White Wolf wield Skyfall like that. And the Black Wolf with his shield and sword was incredibly formidable.

"For centuries, they earned great victories and suffered bitter defeats on their home world, proving their honor time and time again."

Above them, the two warriors mourned terrible losses and celebrated victories on a planet similar to Earth but with four moons resting in a starless sky, aglow like a nebula.

"But despite their many victories, war and strife took its toll."

Great battlefields and graveyards stretched out before them. Villages and cities raised to the ground, nothing left but rubble and corpses. Even up in the sky, two of the moons had been turned into a trail of asteroids and the third cleaved in two. Only the fourth moon was intact. Nature was already reclaiming their civilization.

"With nothing left of their home world, they took to the stars beyond the Cosmic Nebula and carved a place for themselves. They grew in power, in fame."

More images of the two wolves kicking butt, taking names, this time in space, fighting aliens, using the same portals that the Book could create to wander the cosmos.

"They saved worlds, shared stories, and experienced more and more loss, as the last of their kind."

"Oh, that's sad. How does it end?" Meriam asked.

"That's… the end…" Black said, flipping the pages. The images slowly faded from the sky.

"What do you mean, that's the end?" Lily said.

"I mean that's the last page of the story. The next page is a diagram about how to win at table tennis."

"No it isn't!" Lily shot up and grabbed the book. Sure enough, it was an illustration of how to hold a paddle in different ways to better aim a ping pong ball. "But where's the rest of the story?"

"I'll finish it," Potter said. "They explored the universe, made the book, filled it with the secrets of the universe, and then disappeared."

"That's a lame story," Lily sighed. "You don't even know if that's what happened or if they made the Book. Maybe they were like us and they merely found it and then the Book chronicled a bit of their story for posterity after they died."

"It's late," Meriam reminded them. "We should sleep if we want to start up the mountain before the hunters come back out."

Morning, Purple Planet

When the two suns rose, so did the four children. Lily's alarm went off and like that, Potter sprung to his feet, waking everyone up. Somehow, Lily would never know how, he was already awake and made them breakfast and tea. This time they got ready much quicker and didn't afford Black his long morning routine. It wouldn't matter if he got every hair in place if the aliens ate him an hour later.

At least Meriam was sensible enough to forego her own extensive morning routine. At Hogwarts, she spent forty-five minutes every morning braiding her hair or having someone else do it for her, usually Potter. Lily thought it was sweet. And she wouldn't lie, she was pretty jealous of the twins' good relationship with each other. Her own sister… she didn't want to think about it.

The trek up the mountain was worse than the mad rush to the base of the mountain. First of all, all of them were sore, Lily in places she didn't know could get sore. Meriam made it maybe a mile before she started breathing too hard and her brother bullied her into letting him carry her.

Both suns beat down on them. It had been cool and breezy before – or that had been the wind rushing past her as she flew – but today was hot and muggy. That was unfair. If they were going to trek up a mountain shaped like a tooth to get to a portal to another world at the top, the weather should at least have the decency to be nice.

At least the aliens that hunted them yesterday didn't bother them. After lunch, they made the rest of the trek in their animal form. Lily continued to train with Skyfall, practicing her aerial summersaults and the transition between bird and archer. She didn't fire any arrows, it would be too difficult to retrieve them and she'd lost enough as it was yesterday. She only had ten left. She started with thirty-eight.

Be late afternoon, she was comfortable enough in the air to swoop down and fly between the prongs of Potter's antlers. He bugled jealousy at her. Who's the better flyer, now, Potter? She thought smugly to herself, clicking her beak in amusement.

They ended the day with thunderous song after discovering the Book could play music. Not only that, but music from Earth. Black discovered it when he figured if it could show them pictures on the sky, sound wasn't too much of a stretch. Lily introduced them to Piano Man, which just recently came out. After that Potter requested sea shanties, which was a bit annoying, but also more fun to sing together. They wrapped up with a classic, Sweet Caroline.

Earth, July 15, 2014

Remus was very worried. Ever since the Crossroads call, they received no other communication from his friends. It was nice to get some one-on-one math lessons from Mr. Stark. Technically it was multi-quantum theory and interdimensional equations, but it was fun. Remus found it very hypocritical, the amount of times Mr. Stark called him a nerd for enjoying the math when it was him teaching it with a dorky grin on his face.

All of the teasing was said with a fond smile that Remus had never seen on his own parents. He'd seen it on other people's parents, and the ghost of it from his Mam when she was reminiscing about before the accident. She never got that fond of him, even when teaching him math and she was a mathematician. Dad would just get frustrated if Remus asked questions, annoyed he hadn't understood the first explanation and was now just wasting Dad's valuable time.

Sometimes Remus wondered if his parents had written him off as dead and gone that night and were just running through the motions because he was still breathing.

The strangest feeling was the thought that he was wanted more by a group of what should be strangers than he had been by his own parents. He certainly felt more wanted by HYDRA, but that was a lot scarier than the Avengers, like he was a criminal. He was wanted by HYDRA like the Ministry wanted him dead.

"Mr. Stark?" Remus asked. "I… I'm pretty sure I've asking this before…"

"You need another go around for the equation for isolating frequencies?" Mr. Stark asked, shifting in his seat, already pulling up the virtual blackboard.

"No, no," Remus shook his head. "I mean, I wouldn't mind that but… I mean…"

"The power conversion…"

"Also wouldn't mind, but no, not… not a math question…"

"I'm also very good at mechanics," Mr. Stark assured him. "Do you want to put together an engine next?"

"No, I just… why?"

"Because building an engine is fun!" Mr. Stark was talking a mile a minute. "It's a bit messy, and I know you like that sweater, so you may want to change shirts, you can borrow one of my old t-shirts, I know I've got an AC/DC one somewhere…"

"No, why do you want me?" Remus whined. "What's so special about me that…" Remus took a deep breath before he started crying and scared off Mr. Stark. "I don't get it."

Mr. Stark looked a bit frustrated that Remus had asked one of the few questions that he couldn't pull up an equation or diagram for. He sat there for a moment, trying to disengage his science brain and reengage his social brain. There looked to be cobwebs jamming the gears.

"Well… you're smart?" Mr. Stark offered.

"Oh."

"And you're pretty funny, when you're not so nervous," Mr. Stark jabbed at his ribs playfully. He laughed when Remus swatted him away.

"But… I mean… I don't know… everyone's doing all these crazy things for me," Remus said. "My friends are traveling the very dangerous multiverse for their summer break instead of… well, I don't know what they'd be doing instead, probably loafing around but… and your time's probably pretty valuable but you're spending it with me… and… I'm not special and…"

"You're very special, Remus," Mr. Stark said, with the same conviction he said things like 'I'm a genius' and 'Cap's got a nice butt'.

"I'm not," Remus whined. "Well, I guess I am strong and… dangerous and…"

"Not because of that," Mr. Stark said. "And it's not because you're a genius, though that does help."

"I'm not."

"Shut up and take a compliment, kid. Yeesh, you're worse than me."

Remus snapped his mouth shut. His cheeks were flushed.

"You're special because you're you, okay?"

Remus nodded, but he still couldn't wrap his head around it.

"I know I'm not the best at… talking about anything that isn't science or how great I am," Mr. Stark sighed. "You're supposed to laugh at that, even though it's true."

"Ha-ha?" Remus offered, sarcastically.

Mr. Stark snorted, "This is what I mean when I said you're funny."

"You're pretty okay at talking to people," Remus shrugged. "I don't think I've ever had a conversation with my dad that didn't end with him lecturing me and at the least cuffing me over the ear. And Mam… if we talked about anything other than Maths or Welsh, she'd get teary and treat me like a baby."

"That's rough," Mr. Stark said. "I didn't get along with my parents much, either. Howard made me earn calling him Dad and myself a Stark. It's… one of the reasons I try so hard. He didn't realize how much that hurt; he was trying to help me be the best I could be but…"

"You weren't allowed to be a kid for very long," Remus said. He knew how that felt. He hadn't been allowed to be a kid since he was bitten. "Is that why you get upset whenever anyone tries to bump me up a few grades?"

"Being a genius has it's perks, but… in the long run, I don't think it was worth being a child prodigy. I don't think I ever talked to anyone my age until I was in my twenties."

"My friends are… pretty much losing their childhood too now, because of me," Remus said.

"They'll get it back, as soon as they get here safely, which they will, I promise. And it's nothing you did. Haven't three of them been orphaned and the fourth was abused?"

"Yeah," Remus said.

"And the redhead, Lily, she said something about losing her rights?"

"Anti-Muggleborn sentiment, some pure-bloods, the ones in power, think that people who don't come from a magical background are stealing magic from those that do. They're gaining really fast and when they don't they blow something up. Usually people."

"Hm," Mr. Stark grimaced. Remus could tell he was considering the efficacy of storming Remus' home dimension, repulsors blazing, to do a little cleaning up. "I distinctly remember something else about an assassination?"

"James and Meriam's aunt, uncle, and cousin," Remus said. "Dorea, Charlus, and Hardwin. They were assassinated right before I started school. Hardwin and Charlus were pushing a bill that would have been a huge step in human rights protection in the wizarding community. It's pretty… messed up right now. Muggle have no real protection against magical abuse or misuse."

"Sounds like you had nothing to do with them losing their childhoods like this," Mr. Stark said. "And even if you are part of the reason they're running away, you can't control what they do."

"I guess," Remus shrugged. "I still feel guilty, like, all the time."

"You should probably start seeing your therapist again."

"All I did with her was complain about my dead parents," Remus whined. "I love my parents, even if they weren't perfect. No one's perfect. And it feels wrong to talk about them like that, when they can't defend themselves."

"Sounds like they didn't let you defend yourself very often."

"I'm their kid, I'm not supposed to talk back or… I don't know, it was normal and then she said it wasn't normal or okay how they treated me. I don't know, I didn't feel bad about it until I went to therapy. Or, maybe I did and I didn't realize. Ignorance was bliss, I guess."

"You don't have to talk about your parents," Mr. Stark said. "You could talk about how much you hate me," he said with a smile on his face.

"I don't hate you," Remus said.

He knew it was a joke, but he still felt it was important to say. His therapist always scolded Remus when he tried to brush off his own anxieties with humor. She said it was okay outside of therapy, if it made him feel more comfortable, but they had to be serious in their sessions.

"I don't really… hate anyone, not you or my parents or… just myself, I guess."

"You're like Steve. Not a hateful bone in that man's body."

"Thanks," Remus allowed himself a small smile. That said, humor had a time and place, and Mr. Stark enjoyed it so… "At the risk of overinflating your head, I actually really like you."

Mr. Stark laughed, "Thanks kid, I like you too, but that ship has long since sailed. It's a wonder I can get my head into my helmet."

"There's a lot about you to like," Remus said. "You're… well, first of all, if I do something you don't like, you don't slap me, so that's pretty stellar."

Mr. Stark laughed some more, but he added, "I really think you should go back to your therapist, kid. You're not supposed to have father issues until you're at least eighteen."

"That when yours started?"

"Mine started when I was five."

"Me too," Remus said.

He thought about Dr. Banner and his pretty extreme father issues that may or may not have contributed to the existence of the Hulk. He wasn't sure, but Captain Rogers and Sam had dead or absent fathers, he hadn't asked. Thor was banished by his at least twice and his brother was fairing much worse, having faked his own death several times and tried to kill both Thor and Odin on several occasions.

Clint ran away to join the circus which was universally considered not a good sign for a healthy homelife. There was no telling what Natasha's relationship was with hers, but considering her standoffishness and refusal to talk about anything personal, to the extent Remus barely knew her name, it was probably not great.

"Maybe father issues are a prerequisite to being a superhero."

"Maybe," Mr. Stark shrugged. "Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Now, that's enough of personal problems," he jokingly gagged and playfully ruffled Remus' hair, "If you tell anyone I've got a heart after all, I'm kicking you out."

"Oh, ha-ha, like you wouldn't miss me," Remus smiled, leaning into the welcome affection. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?"

Remus wanted to be specific, 'thanks for paying for all my stuff', 'thanks for letting me live in your house', 'thanks for being a better dad than my own dad was,' but there was just too much of it, so he left it vague and all encompassing, "Thanks, for… I dunno, everything, I guess."

"Any time, kiddo. Now!" He turned back to his holo-computer, clapped his hands together in excitement, and said, giddily, "let's look at some more diagrams!"

Afternoon, Purple Planet

The Tesseract was useful for many things. It didn't track the children as easily as Red Skull wanted, but as soon as they're located, it's merely a matter of sending Greyback and the Winter Soldier through the portal with their orders. There was no way, with their combined strength and the Soldier's singlemindedness, that they would fail this time. He would have his Book by the time the twin suns set on this miserable world.

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