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 moved to a beautiful farmstead in Missouri. It was located far from town, on a large, idyllic plot of land hidden away from prying eyes. It had everything I'd ever wished for: deep, dark oak forests, filled with mystery and adventure; a large, shallow stream, ideal for floating toy boats and cooling off on hot afternoons, and wheat fields that 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 of troubles, and I loved it.

While Clint's work meant he was coming and going, I was never short of things to do. The farmhouse needed constant attention and endless fixing, and in time came our family. Cooper was first, followed by Lila and then little Nat. When they were old enough we found places for them in the nearby school, but during the holidays and the evenings I used to sit on the porch and watch them play tag in the fields or hunt monsters in the forest. Sometimes, we all used to go and float little boats on that stream that had shown so much promise, or we would tell stories and roast marshmallows over the firepit in the yard.

I wasn't completely isolated; I knew all about the invasion of New York, the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the destruction of Novi Grad. Whenever Clint returned from duty, the children used to gather around and listen with shining eyes about the adventures of the Avengers. No matter how bad things got, however, I took comfort in the fact that they were always far away, and would never, could never intrude on my precious little world, with its precious little treasures.

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

Chapter One: Back in a Flash

The day 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 stiff breeze from the northwest, and the trills and thrills of birdsong gently roused me from my slumber. I lay there peacefully, enjoying the soft cocoon of my blankets and the gentle sigh of the wind. Sure, I was going to have to get up at some point, but that point didn't have to be now…

There was a snort and a sudden shudder of movement from the other side of the bed, and then my husband came to with a long, drawn-out yawn. The mattress shifted, and I cracked open an eye to see him sit up and stretch his arms slowly overhead, and then he turned to look at me with a warm, gentle smile. There was something about that grin of his that made my heart melt, and I found myself smiling sleepily back as he stood up and came around the side of the bed.

"Mornin', sleepyhead," he said, "Sleep well?"

"'Bout as well as I could, that thing was jabbing me all night." I murmured, and nodded towards the thick, grey bracelet wrapped tightly around his ankle, "When's it coming off again?"

"Not long now. Hearing's in a month," he said, "An' I was thinkin' that maybe we'd go somewhere to celebrate. Y'know, with the kids?"

"Oh yeah?" I looked at him suspiciously, "Like where?"
"Well, the kids've been buggin' me to take 'em to that new waterpark near Springfield, and since summer's comin'..."

"Really?" I groaned, "You know how I feel about waterparks, Clint."

"Relax, hon. It'll be fine," Clint said, and ran his fingers through his brown, close-cropped hair, "You can bob around on the lazy river while the rest of us have some real fun!"

I stuck my tongue out at him, "I know how to have fun, y'know!"

"Sure you do," he laughed, and danced backwards out of reach, "You just like to have it a little…slower than the rest of us."

"You're hilarious, babe," I said, and sighed, "Right; I suppose we'd better get breakfast on, shouldn't we?"

"Actually, I was thinkin'..."

"Really? That's dangerous."

"Tell me about it," his grin turned crooked, "But since it's a nice day, I was thinkin' that maybe we should eat outside. Make a family thing of it."
I looked out the window. It really was a nice day; with just the occasional wisp of cloud scudding across a clear blue sky. From what I remembered of last nights' weather report, it might be the last 'nice day' in a while, too.

"What're you thinking?" I said, "Barbeque?"

"Barbeque's broken, remember?"

"Oh, right. Need to fix that," I made a mental note, "Firepit?"

"When was the last time we used the firepit?" he said, "'Sides, if we try an' get the kids to clean it we won't see 'em for dust."

"Cook in the oven and pretend it was cooked outside?" I said, with a slight grin, "As long as it's meat, they're not going to give a damn."

"Sausages?"

"Sure, sausages," I said, "You defrost 'em, I'll cook em!"

"It's a deal," he said, and grinned again, "I love it when a plan comes together. Don't you?"

"Another Clint Barton masterpiece. Now get moving. I want another ten minutes snooze!"

By the time I'd roused myself fully, showered, dressed, and come downstairs, the sausages were already laid out on an oven tray, their pale pink flesh glistening in the light. Suddenly I was ravenous, and as I bent to put them in the oven Lila came bounding into the kitchen, almost bowling me over as she made a beeline for the sink.

"Slow down, Lila!" I said sternly, "And watch where you're going!"
"Sorry, Mom!" She said, in a breathless rush, "But Dad said that he was going to give me another archery lesson today and then he said that we were going to have a barbeque and…" she trailed off, and looked at me accusingly, "Wait! You're cooking them in the oven?"

"Barbeque's broken, remember?" I said, raising an eyebrow, "You should do, considering the part you played in it."

"Um…" Lila's cheeks coloured, "It was Coop's fault! He broke it!"

"And as the saying goes, 'Where there's Coop, there's Lila," I said, "So until I get a chance to weld it back together, we're all just going to have to live with the 'Barton Barbeque'. Capiche?"

"Sure, Mom," she said, "Um, is it okay if Maisie comes over later? Only her mom…"

"Of course it is. You know that," I said, "I'll put on some extra sausages for her, too."

"Thanks, Mom!" Lila beamed, and bounded out as quickly as she came in, "You know how hungry she gets!"

"Wait!" I called after her, "Didn't you want a…glass of…oh, nevermind."

"Nevermind what?" Coop's voice echoed from the hallway, and then he shuffled into view. As was increasingly the case these days his nose was buried in his phone, but he looked up to give me a brief nod of acknowledgement before returning to whatever it was he was interested in, "Hey, Mom; you see this? There was a big fight in New York City yesterday!"

"Oh, really?" I said, as I dug around in the freezer for some more sausages.

"Yeah! People're saying they saw Iron Man and…some wizards fighting these aliens! Not sure what happened, but it kinda looks like Stark kicked their ass back into space! You reckon Dad knows about this?"

"Your Dad's retired," I said firmly, "And under house arrest, remember?"

"Yeah, but you think Stark would've-"

"Stark and Dad aren't talking," I said, "I know they were all part of the same team, once, but…y'know. Things got complicated."

"That's one way of puttin' it," Clint's voice came from the corridor, "Stark's still sour that I nearly took him down in Schkeuditz, that's all. Anyway, Coop; go an' lay the table outside, would you?"

"Aww, can't Lila do it?"

"She can, but I asked you," Clint said, "Now hop to it, kiddo! Otherwise we ain't gonna eat."

Coop pouted, but put his phone away and went through to the other room. A moment later, I heard the scrape of drawers and then the clink of cutlery as he none-too-subtly gathered together everything we needed.

"So, an alien invasion?" I said, as casually as I could, "'Been a while since we've had one of those."

"The last time it happened, we did kind of force feed 'em a nuke," Clint said, "You would've thought they could take a hint. Still…"

I looked up, "Still what?"

"It kinda explains this message I got this mornin'," he said, and pulled out his phone, "Unknown number, just sayin' 'Wish us luck'. Nothing else."

"Who do you think it is?" I said, and then added hopefully, "Think it's Nat?"

"Yeah. Probably usin' a burner phone," Clint said.

"You said anything back?"
"'Course not!" he said, "If the parole officer found out I was sendin' messages to her, I'd be back on the Raft in a heartbeat!"

I shuddered, "Don't want that."

"Nope," he agreed, "C'mon, I got a pretty great deal from the government. No way am I riskin' that for anythin', 'specially if it meant I'd have you and the kids taken away from me."

"But… you still think it's Nat, right?" I frowned, "You worried?"

"Part of bein' retired means you've gotta leave problems to the next generation," he said, with a shrug, "Even if the next generation're the same age as you. Or older."

"Yeah, but don't you wish you were out there? With them?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be than here, hon. Believe it," he said, "I trust Nat. She'll get the job done, no matter what it takes."

"Yeah, you're right. I just hope we can see her soon," I said, and nudged the oven door closed with my foot, "The kids miss her. I miss her."

"I know," he said, and patted me consolingly on the shoulder, "C'mon; those're going to be a little while. Why don't you go get Nate and we'll go outside?"

The day outside truly was glorious, and any worries I had about invading aliens or Clint's parole hearing fell away as I looked out over the gently rippling grasslands towards the deep green forests. Here, the world was peaceful, quiet, and safe. Nobody could trouble us here.

With a sigh, I sat down on the porch swing and watched Coop set up the table for lunch. He gave me a sour look as he headed back inside for the condiments, and I gave him a wink and a thumbs up in response just as Nate came charging past with Lila in hot pursuit. Our youngest ran, giggling, out onto the fields, and with a squeal of laughter Lila brought him down and began tickling him ferociously.

Clint appeared at the door, shaking his head in wonder, "Is it me, or is he gettin' faster?"

"That, or you're getting slower," I said archly. He rolled his eyes as he sat down on the porch swing next to me, and I leant to rest my head on his shoulder. We watched in silence as Nate and Lila play-wrestled out on the field, and when I looked up at Clint I saw him looking on fondly, while a faint smile played on his lips. I smiled too, and reached out to gently take his hand.

"We did good with these ones, didn't we?" I said.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed, "Kinda surprisin' when you think about it, what with you bein' a bad influence and all that-"

"Me?" I blinked, and he laughed, "I'm not the one teaching our daughter how to fill things full of arrows!"

"She's learnin' quickly, too," he said proudly, "You never know, you might just be lookin' at the next Hawkeye!"

"Really? Lila?" I said, "And to think, we spent all that money on ballet lessons…"

"Helped with her co-ordination," Clint said, "But speakin' of archery. I kinda promised her-"

"Yeah, I heard," I said, "Go be a Dad."
"You sure?" He said, "I was gonna help you with the food-"

"It's fine! Go!" I laughed, and then gave him a more serious look, "Moments like these aren't going to last forever, Clint, and you've had to sacrifice more of them than most. I'm sure I can manage a few sausages."

"Thanks, hon," he said, and leaned in for a kiss, "You're the best."

"And don't I know it," I said, "But if you really want to thank me then, well, there's…always later."

"Later it is, then," he said, and winked as he got to his feet, "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Unsurprisingly, Coop was more than happy to exchange laying the table for watching Nate, and so I quickly busied myself bringing out the rest of the cutlery and any toppings that he hadn't been able to find. I knew from bitter experience that some of my clan had…idiosyncratic tastes, and I didn't want to waste any more time shuttling bottles and jars in and out of the house if I could help it. Last were the sausages, golden brown and sizzling, and my stomach growled urgently as I carefully lifted them from the tray and placed them in their buns. There were a few extra, just in case, and still more back inside for later. Maisie's appetite was nearly bottomless, after all.

Nearby, Nate and Coop were playing a gentle game of catch, and I felt a surge of pride as I watched my eldest take care of his sibling. Sure, he might be a bit clumsy, as our poor barbeque could attest, and sure, he was moody from time to time, but he was also an absolute whizz when it came to being a good brother. At some point, I was going to have to let him know just how much that meant to us-

-a loud thud from the side of the house caught my attention. Clint's laugh echoed across the grounds, and I looked up just in time to see him high-five Lila. She was beaming with pride, and when I looked closer I could see an arrow embedded, still quivering, right in the bullseye of Clint's hastily erected archery range. He was right; she really was learning quickly, and from the confident way she strode to retrieve her arrow, I could tell that she knew it too.

I took a long, deep breath and exhaled slowly, and in that moment the world seemed to stand still.

I had no idea how we'd managed it, but somehow Clint and I had carved out our own little piece of the world and filled it with laughter and joy and three awesome children, the absolute light of our lives. The world had its troubles, sure, but they were far away and, now that Clint was retired, officially someone else's problem. Our world, our remote, secluded, safe little world, was…perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

My stomach growled, and with a wry little smile I realised that there was maybe one thing that could be improved, and so with a big smile I called out, "Hey guys! Enough practice; soup's on!"

Everyone looked around at my call, and so I quickly turned to grab a sausage before the oncoming hordes reached the table. There was a loud crack in the distance, like the sound of thunder or a-

Snap

-and my fingers brushed against bare wood. The sausages were gone, and not just gone, but gone, along with everything on the table. The plates, cutlery, condiments, and tablecloth had simply vanished, as if they'd never been there, and the table itself…I'd put a new coat of varnish on it just last week, but now the wood was weathered, cracked, and broken. As I staggered and caught myself on the side, it cracked audibly and a chunk came off in my hand.

"What the hell?" I gasped, and looked around wildly in surprise. Everything had changed; our well-kept yard was now an overgrown mess of grasses and vines, and the nearby trees, previously a verdant green in preparation for the summer ahead, were now showing hints of yellow and amber. Even the light was different, the glorious blue skies were now filled with dreary clouds that swirled ominously overhead, casting a dreary pallor over the pristine day, "What the hell is going on?"

"Mom? Mom!" Cooper's voice rang out across the yard, tinged with panic, and I turned to see him picking his way through the undergrowth, carrying Nate as best he could, "What's going on?"

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

"You've got to stay calm, Laura," said a little, inner voice, "You've got to stay calm for the kids."

"Okay," I pressed my lips together. One step at a time, right? "Where's Lila? Where's your father?"

"Um, um…" Coop paused, "She was over with the garage, right? With Dad-"

There was a blood-curdling scream from the archery range, and I looked to see Lila fall to the ground, screaming something indistinguishable over and over again as she scrabbled at the dirt.

"Lila!" I cried. Throwing caution to the winds I raced across the unkempt yard, tearing through the twisted undergrowth to reach my terrified daughter. I skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust, and immediately knelt to take her into my arms, "I'm here, honey, it's okay…"

"It's not!" Lila looked up at me, her face streaked with tears and etched with horror, "It's Dad, Mom! He's just…vanished! One moment he was here and then-"

Gone. I could feel the nausea rising in my throat, buoyed by fear and confusion, but with a superhuman effort I forced it back down. I couldn't break. I couldn't break.

"Sssh, sssh," I said, and hugged her tightly, "It's all going to be fine. I promise. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

There was a thud of boots behind me as Coop and Nate caught up.

"Is she okay, Mom?" he said anxiously, "And where's Dad?"

"He's gone, Coop!" Lila shouted tearfully, "He's gone!"

"Gone where?"

"Nowhere! He just…disappeared!"

"People can't disappear, Lila!" Coop snapped back, "That's impossible!"

"He did! I saw him vanish!"

"You don't know what you saw!" Coop shouted, and Nate burst into tears.

"Lila! Coop! Be quiet!" I said loudly, as my control slipped for just an instant, "Now, all of you come here."

Slowly, and a bit hesitantly at first, Coop and Nate settled down next to Lila. I took their hands and held them in my own.

"It's going to be okay, okay?" I said, gently but firmly, and hoped like hell they couldn't hear the fear thrumming in my voice, "No matter what else, we're all here together. We're a family, and we're going to get through this as a family, okay?"

"But Dad-" Lila began.

"I'm going to look for Dad," I said, "You all wait here and don't wander off, okay? I want to be sure that I know where everyone is."

Quickly, I scrambled to my feet and headed off towards the barn. As much as I desperately wanted to be strong for the kids, tears were already beginning to well in my eyes, and my heart was beating out a tattoo in my chest. I needed a moment alone to work out what the hell was going on here, and what the hell I was meant to do! Lila had to be mistaken, right? People didn't just vanish into thin air!

"Yeah, but hotdogs don't either," said that little voice, with a treacherous little chuckle, "And what was in that fertiliser you put on the lawn? Super soldier serum?"

"Be quiet," I muttered, as I pushed open the barn door. A putrid smell slapped me in the face, filled with notes of mold and decay, and my foot stepped in something foul as I hunted around in the dark for the lightswitch.

"Clint? Are you in here, honey?" I called out, hoping against hope for an answer. My voice echoed around the inside of the barn, lost and alone, and my heart sank a little further in my chest, "Please, Clint; we don't know what's going on. Lila said she saw you vanish, and…and…"

With a shaking hand, I pulled out my cell phone and switched it on. The screen flickered to life, dispelling the darkness with its harsh white light, revealing a dank, dilapidated mess that looked as if it hadn't been disturbed in years.

"No way," I murmured to myself. I'd parked up here just yesterday, but now there was a thin layer of dust covering every surface. It was pockmarked with the faint prints of mice and rats, and as I scanned around desperately I saw chewed-up bays of hay and straw, now strewn liberally across the floor as disintegrating lumps. In the far corner, our motley collection of half-used farming equipment had been reduced to almost unrecognisable piles of rust.

"Car's gone, too," said my little voice, and I looked at the large, empty space that doubled as our garage, "Maybe he was called up by Nat? It wouldn't be the first time he's left in a hurry!"

The faint feeling of hope blossomed in my chest, but then I shook my head. The 'garage' was just as dusty as the rest of the barn, and there were no signs of tyre tracks or anything else to suggest recent movement. What could I do? Maybe he'd gone inside? Maybe-

"Maybe you should call him!" said the voice, through the fog of panic descending in my mind, "Find out where he is, find out what's going on…"

My hand was shaking so much it took me several attempts to unlock my phone, but eventually I managed to open up my contacts screen and hit the call button.

"Please pick up, babe!" I begged, as I lifted the phone to my ear with a trembling hand, "Please!"

The phone rang, and rang, and my heart began to sink. What had happened to him? Had he really just poofed into thin air? Had something, or someone taken him? If they had, why leave us? Why take the sausages? None of it made any sens-

There was a click, and my heart jolted.

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

In the silence that followed, I almost thought I could hear someone choking on the other end of the phone.

"Honey?" Clint's voice, when it came, was so thick I almost couldn't understand it, "Honey!"

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

An enormous roar erupted from the phone, loud enough for me to jerk the phone reflexively away from my ear. Another pair of violent detonations followed, and my blood turned to ice as I heard the shriek of twisting metal and collapsing masonry. I heard Clint cry out, somewhere far away, and then there was the sound of wind whistling past the speaker-

"Clint!" I screamed, "Clint!"

-and with a very final-sounding crunch, the line went dead. For a long, horrible moment, I stared blankly at the phone as heart-rending terror gave way to blank, numb shock, and then my legs buckled and I fell to the floor.

I lay in the darkness for some time, my mind drifting uselessly through the last few moments of my conversation with Clint. He was alive, or he'd been alive when he picked up, but where was he? Why had he sounded so…awed to hear my voice, and what was that explosion all about? Had he been attacked? Was this that alien invasion Coop'd been talking about? What was going on?

A shriek outside jolted me back to reality. It sounded like Lila, and in an instant I was on my feet and bolted outside. My breath came in ragged gasps as I dashed back around the side of the house, only to run headlong into the kids as I rounded the corner. They looked okay, but Lila had gone as white as a sheet, and Coop was staring at me with a wild-eyed expression. Between them, they were brandishing a strange, yellowed envelope.

"What's happened?" I said, and added sharply, "And I thought I told you to stay put! Where's Nate?"

"He's over there," Coop said, and pointed towards where Nate was busying himself with a mound of dirt, "But…Mom! We think we know what's happened! Look at this letter!"

With a tug, Coop pulled the letter from Lila's grasp and quickly handed it to me. The letter was old and dirty, and had clearly been out in the weather for some time, but I could just about make out the logo of our local water company.

"Look at the date, Mom," Lila said, quietly, "It's…it's…"

"February 1st, 2023," I breathed, and suddenly my blood was singing in my ears, "That's…that can't be right. That's five years from now!"

Lila nodded, and exchanged a scared look with Coop, "Do you think-"

"-I think this has to be a joke!" I said, firmly, "Someone's idea of a prank."

"There's more of 'em, Mom. A whole pile," Coop said, anxiously, "Electricity, Internet, something about insurance… 'Sides, who'd prank us? Nobody knows we live here!"

As much as I hated to admit it, he had an excellent point. Before I could think of a good rebuttal, though, Lila stepped forward and fixed me with scared eyes.

"Did you talk to Dad, Mom?" she said, in a small voice, and I felt a jolt shiver through me.

"Oh, um…yes, for just a moment," I said distantly, "He sounded…busy."

"Liar," said my little inner voice. It was right, but there was no way I could tell them about what I'd heard. They were barely hanging on as it was.

"When's he coming home?" she asked, "When?"

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

"When?"

"I don't know!"

"When?"

"I said I don't know, Lila!" I shouted, my resolve finally cracking entirely, "I don't know where your Dad is or why this letter exists or even what's happened to lunch! I don't know anything!"

"Sorry, Mom," Lila looked a little abashed, "I'm…I'm scared."

"I'm scared too, honey," I said, and pulled both Coop and Lila in for a quick, reassuring hug, "And I don't know what's going on, but what I do know is that we have each other, and we're going to stick together no matter what."

"So what're we going to do, Mom?" asked Coop, "Should we drive into town-"
"Car's gone, Coop," I said briskly, and he inhaled sharply, "Right now, we're cut off, so we need to make sure that we have enough fuel, food, and water to last us until I can get help. Coop?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to start chopping firewood," I said, and looked up at the skies, "It looks like it might be a cold one tonight, so we need to be prepared. Lila?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"Check the larder, check the water," I said, "We may need to dip into the emergency supplies."

"And Nate?"

"Take him with you, Lila; he can sweep the floors or something."

"And what're you going to do?" Coop asked, a bit accusingly. I pinned him with a Look.

"I am going to find out what's happened and try and get help. I'll walk into town if I have to, so I'm depending on you two to be big kids and make sure nothing happens while I'm away. Understood?"

Coop and Lila looked at one another, and nodded as one.

"I know this is messed up," I said, and pulled them in for one last squeeze, "But no matter what, we're going to come through it, alright? Now let's move!"

They scattered at a run; Coop headed for the woodstack, while Lila grabbed Nate and set off around the back of the house to the kitchen. I watched them go, and when I was sure they were out of sight I sagged limply against a nearby tree.

"That was a dirty trick."

It was, but it was one I knew would work. I had to keep them calm, and to keep them calm I had to keep them busy while I played for time to get my head on straight. Was this really 2023? If it was, how did we get here? Had those aliens somehow attacked us without us even knowing it? But then…why wasn't Clint here? I had too many questions, and no answers were forthcoming.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and my heart leapt in my throat as I took it out. Was it Clint? Was he okay? I felt a surge of disappointment when I saw it was just my phone's newsfeed, but then I read the headline:

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

My breath caught in my throat as I unlocked the phone and scrolled through further headlines.

'Confusion reigns as billions thought gone forever reappear five years later'

'They're back! Victims of Thanos' Snap reappear in a flash!'

"Oh my god," I whispered, as the world began to spin around me, "This really is 2023. We've travelled five years into the future."

"Along with half the planet, it looks like."

"And everyone left…thought we died?" I said, staring at the lowest headline. Who or what was 'Thanos', and what was this 'Snap'? There was that strange noise just before the sausages vanished, but…

"They're calling you a 'victim', so…"

"Then what about Clint? He's not here, which means-" I grabbed at the tree for support as the world around me slowly faded into fuzzy shades of grey, "No. No!"

"It all adds up, doesn't it? It'd explain why he was so shocked to hear your voice."

"That's just too cruel!" I said, "That…it…"

"Maybe…it wasn't so bad for him? Five years is a long time; maybe he grieved, moved on, and met someone new? Hell, maybe he could've gotten together with Nat!"

"No. He wouldn't do that," I said, "But…five years…"

My phone buzzed again, and I looked blankly as more headlines piled up on the screen.

'Avengers Compound in ruins following airstrike by alien dreadnought'

'Fierce battle rages between alien invaders and surviving Avengers, reinforced by Wakandan forces, wizards, autonomous military weapons systems, and an alien creature described as an 'Ent'.

'CONFIRMED: Alien dreadnought disabled by Captain Marvel in dramatic surgical strike.'

'Sightings of Thanos throw previous claims of 'execution' by Avengers into doubt.'

"Well, that'd explain that noise you heard. Clint was attacked!"

"Oh my God," I said, and for a moment I genuinely wondered if I was going to pass out. This was too much, happening too fast. Time travel? Alien attacks? Clint in danger…no; he was going to be okay. He had to be okay! He'd faced down terrible, world-ending threats before and emerged okay, right? All we had to do was hold out until he finished and then….then we'd be together again. Like we were meant to be.

"And then what?"

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

Now that I at least had an inkling of what was going on, I went to check on my children. Nate and Lila would probably be okay for a little while, but I didn't want to leave Coop and the axe alone for longer than was strictly necessary. Right on cue, a loud thock echoed through the air, and I followed it around the back of the house where I found Cooper hefting short, mildewy logs onto a stump before brutally bisecting them with the small woodax. Log, stump, swing. Log, stump, swing. It was a therapeutic, almost hypnotic pattern, and I could see from his expression that he was desperately trying to keep his mind off everything that was happening, even while he ached for news.

I waited for him to set the ax down to retrieve another log, and then stepped forward.

"Hey, kiddo. How're you doing?" I said gently, "Those logs look great!"

"Dunno, Mom," he said, with his trademark honesty, "Any news from Dad?"

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

"Do you know what's going on?" he pressed, "Do you really think we've gone to the future?"

"I'm…I'm not sure, Coop," I lied, "Once I've checked on Lila, I'm going to see if I can get the generator running. If the television still works, maybe we can get the news."

"How about your phone? You called Dad, right?"
"Out of data," I lied again. I felt terrible for doing so, but the last thing he and Lila needed to hear about was how we'd apparently just…disappeared, alongside half of the human race. Keep them calm, keep them safe.

"Oh," he sounded disappointed, and my guilt intensified, "I think I left mine upstairs, and if it's anything this ax-" he held up the dully, rusty ax for emphasis, "I sharpened the blade just last week, Mom! How did it end up like this?"

"I don't know. I really don't," I said, "Look. I need to go inside and see how Lila's doing. Are you going to be okay out here?"

"I'll be fine," he said, with a casualness he clearly didn't feel, "Don't worry about me!"
"Of course I worry about you. I'm your Mom!" I hesitated, and then pulled him in for another tight hug, "I love you, Coop, and I'm so proud of you. You're doing great."

"Thanks, Mom," he patted me on the back, slightly awkwardly, and then pulled away, "I'd, um…I'll be here if you need me, okay?"

"Sure. Be careful," I said, and then frowned, "And put on some goggles! The last thing we need right now is for you to get a splinter in your eye!"

The sounds of 'Aww, Mooom!', trailed behind me as I headed towards the kitchen, but just as I put my hand on the door handle my phone buzzed, noisily. Once again, the dread pooled in my stomach as I pulled out my phone, but it was just another headline:

'VICTORY FOR AVENGERS as alien forces, dreadnaught dissolve in scenes reminiscent of the Snap'

I felt a small pang of relief, but it vanished quickly amongst the feeling swirling inside. The news article offered up a video link, 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 'the Snap' had looked like.

"'Dissolve'?" said the inner voice, "That sounds a bit more involved than just disappearing and reappearing. Do you think you all…disintegrated, piece by piece, while Clint watched helplessly?"

"I didn't 'fall to pieces'!," I snapped, and forced that mental image from my mind, "I'd remember something like that!"

"The mind is a funny thing, you know," the voice laughed, "But then, you don't need me to tell you that."

I pushed open the kitchen door maybe slightly harder than I should have done. It bounced loudly off the wall, and I winced as the noise echoed through the house.

"Sorry, guys," I said, quickly, as I caught the door on the rebound and carefully closed it behind me. There was no response, "Guys? Lila? Nate?"

Neither Lila nor Nate were in the kitchen, but I could hear my youngest's gleeful giggles from somewhere upstairs. I followed the sounds, and found Lila sitting on her bed, clutching at an old, moldy teddy bear as she stared vacantly into space.

"Lila?" I said, kindly, as I sat down on the bed beside her, "Lila, honey. I need you to check the food and water, remember?"

"The food's bad and the water's bad, Mom," she said, tonelessly, "There's just…goo in the fridge, and the larder…"

She shuddered, and I put a consoling arm around her shoulders.

"I found Dad's bugout bag, though," she went on, "It's got a couple of days of those meal bars, and some water. There's some of those tablets, too."

"Tablets?"

"Yeah, the ones I tipped in the bath and he yelled at me?"
"Right; those tablets," I chuckled at the memory, "What flavour are the bars?"

"Vanilla, I think?"

"Of course," I muttered, and squeezed her tight. It wasn't much, and Clint's emergency rations somehow flawlessly combined the smell of wet dog with the rich, chemical taste of bargain-basement flavourings, capped off with the rich, chewy texture of a winter tyre, "Well done, darling. At least we won't starve to death, right?"

"Right, but…look at my room!" she said, despairingly, "What happened to it?"

I had to admit, she had a point. Lila had never been the cleanest of my kids, but her room had never been in this state before. Most of the floor was covered in a mixture of leaf mold and droppings, and her wall hangings and posters had been ripped to shreds. Her collection of action figures, too, were scattered hither and thither, and over by her wardrobe was a small pile of glass porcelain shards, which on close inspection looked like the remains of her 'St. Louis' snowglobe from some years back.

"What're you talking about?" I said, and smiled wryly, "Looks the same to me."

"Har har har," she said, "My clothes're all gone, too. I think something ate 'em."

"We'll get you new clothes, I promise," I said reassuringly, "And…everything else."

"Thanks, Mom," she said, and leaned heavily against my side, "Is Dad okay, Mom? Is he gone?"

"No, sweetheart, no," I said, "I just talked to him, remember? He's just…busy with something important right now, but I'm sure he'll call as soon as he can."

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

"Nothing, Lila, you know that," I said, and tried to ignore the little mocking voice deep inside, "But you know how…sometimes he has to go away and can't talk to us? 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, "And we're going to be a family again, okay? I love you. We all love you, and we always will."

"Thanks, Mom," she sighed, and looked around, "I can't find my Pink Unicorn figurine. I'm sure I left him on the bed; I'm sure of it!"

"Well, 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, Mom," she said, and brightened suddenly, "If I catch it, can I keep it?"

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

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

"Well…" I paused, "You put Nate in his room, right?"

"Yeah. I don't think there's any rats in there."

"Good girl. I'm going to get the power on, I think, but before that…I'm just going to go through my room. Make sure nothing's chewing at the furniture, okay?"

"It's been five years. Surprised everything hasn't been chewed to pieces already."

I stopped at the threshold of the master bedroom, and felt the dread pool in the pit of my stomach. The rest of the house looked for all the world like a disaster zone, so…what had happened to my things? Part of me didn't want to know, but with a deep breath I squared my shoulders and stepped inside.

My first impression was that, like Lila, I'd accidentally left the window open when I'd come down this morning. Thankfully, it wasn't all that dusty, but every surface seemed to be covered in leaves, droppings, or an unpleasant combination of the two. The bed was particularly grim, all tangled blankets and matted…stuff, and although I couldn't see the ensuite from the door, there was a pungent aroma lingering in the room that made me quite glad of that fact.

I stepped forward, and as I did something crunched noisily underfoot. It was glass; in fact, the floor was covered with shards of glass, all from my collections of photos and wall hangings that had been knocked down by some unknown force. Some of them had been torn to shreds, and I felt a small pang of pain as I picked up an old family portrait and set it right on the dresser. Not all of these were replaceable.

"Goddamnit!" I muttered, as I sat down heavily on my vanity stool, which promptly responded by collapsing in a cloud of dust, "What the hell?"

"You okay in there, Mom?" Lila called down the hallway.

"Don't come in, Lila!" I said quickly, as I carefully clambered to my feet, "There's glass everywhere!"

"Okay, Mom!"

I continued my careful inspection of the room, stooping to pick up a tube of lipstick. Most of the contents of my vanity seemed to be in order, not that they ever saw much use, and when I flicked open my jewelry box a dozen gems winked back at me. At least we hadn't been looted, but the vanity mirror itself was badly cracked by what looked like a single, strong blow to the direct centre of the glass. Our wedding photo, which had stood on it for almost two decades, had vanished, and I eventually found it in the far corner of the room amongst the shattered pieces of its frame.

"No animal did that."

"I know," I said sadly. The sense of anger and despair hanging over the frame was almost tangible, "This is all so messed up! This morning I thought we'd be enjoying a nice family lunch, and now-"

"This morning? Be honest with yourself, Laura."

"You know what I mean," I said, and put my hands on the vanity, staring at myself in the shattered glass, "What am I going to do?"

"Well, you could answer your phone…"

Rather belatedly, I realised that my phone was buzzing insistently in my pocket. As quickly as I could, I pulled it out with trembling fingers and saw the phrase 'Unknown Number' plastered across the top. Suddenly, my heart was thudding in my chest.

"Please, Clint…please be okay," I prayed, and with a long, shuddering breath, I accepted the call, "H…hello?"

"Laura?" Clint's voice echoed down the line. He sounded tired, exhausted even, but also as if he couldn't quite believe his ears, "Is that you?"

"Clint? Clint! It's me, honey, it's me. I'm here!" I said, and suddenly the tears were running down my face, "I'm here! I'm back!"

"Oh, honey…I never thought I'd…I'd-" Clint's voice cracked over the line.

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

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

"I…I saw the news, Clint. Is it true? Did we really…"

"It's all true," he said, thickly, "I looked away for just a moment, and…you were gone. Snapped out of existence."

"For five years?"

"We didn't think you were ever comin' back. I thought I'd lost you forever."

I took a deep wracking breath, "Oh, Clint, I'm so…so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything!"

"It's okay, hon! You're back now, and that's all that matters. It's going to be okay."
"Yeah," I said, and smiled through the tears, "We're never leaving you again, Clint. Somehow I'll make these past five years up to you. Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I'll find a way."

"I know, hon," he said, and audibly composed himself, "Are the kids there? Can I talk to them?"

"Coop's outside chopping wood, and I've got Lila and Nate cleaning up," I said, and laughed, "You left the place in such a tip, Clint! Honestly, you're worse than Lila!"

He laughed too, but when he spoke I could hear the tears creeping back again, "I love you, hon, and I've missed you so much. I've got so much to tell you an' the kids."

"I love you too," I said, "Just come home, babe. Come home, and we can talk for as long as you want."

"I'm takin' the Quinjet and comin' right now. Can you stay on the phone 'till I take off?"

"Of course-" I began, but then my phone buzzed angrily, "-but…my phone's just about to die on me. Get here as fast as you can, Clint, please. We're all waiting for you."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of activity. As soon as the call finished, I rounded up the kids to let them know Clint was coming home as quickly as he could, and then busied myself doing as much as I could to get the farmhouse back to its original, pristine state.

"Just best not to think about it, right?" said the little inner voice, "Like your Mom used to say; if you don't know what to do, do what you know."

Over the next four hours, the kids and I worked tirelessly. We cleaned out the water tank, flushed the taps, swept the floor, dusted the walls, replaced the fuses, fixed a wobbly step, and washed and cleaned down the kitchen until it sparkled. Following a brief lunch of Clint's emergency rations, we threw out the contents of the larder and emptied the disgusting goo from the fridge into an old toy box. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't much, but at least we now had running water and some beds where we could sleep tonight. Lighting and heating were a different matter; we had only a small amount of diesel left, and it would have to be carefully rationed until we could get more, but at the same time we'd lived through power cuts before. We could manage.

"Are we done yet?" Lila said, flopping down onto a newly cleaned wooden chair.

"I'm exhausted!" Coop agreed, "I don't think I've ever done that much DIY."

"We're done, Coop," I said, "For now."

"For now?" he groaned, "C'mon!"

"It's not so bad," I said, "Think about how much you learned today! Plumbing, joinery, some electrics…"

"Where'd you learn all that stuff anyway, Mom? Dad's the one who keeps tearing up the house!"

"And I'm the one who keeps fixing his mistakes," I pointed out, "Who do you think keeps this place from falling apart while he's away?"

"Huh!" he said, "So when're we going to get power back, anyway?"

"As soon as your Dad gets back and phones the power company," I sighed, "They're probably snowed under right now as it is."

"But I need my phone!" Coop protested, "What about my friends? I need to find out what happened to them!"

"Good god, Coop, you know we don't have enough diesel to waste on charging phones!" I snapped, and then took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, Coop. I know you're worried, but-"

"Sure, Mom," he said, but gave me a look that I wasn't entirely sure I liked, "I'll…go and see if Nate's okay."

"You do that," I said, and put my head in my hands. Somewhere nearby, I could hear Nate playing with some of his toys, and smiled ruefully. It was amazing what kids could do to pass the time.

"What's wrong, Mom?" Lila said, "You worried about Dad?"

"It's…can we talk about something else, dear?" I groaned, and slipped lower in my seat, "Or…think about it, instead. Honestly, I just want to close my eyes-"

"Wait, Mom!" Lila sat up suddenly and tilted her head, "Do you hear that?"

A moment later, and just on the edge of hearing, I heard a low, insistent roar that slowly built to a powerful crescendo. On the wall, the newly-restored pictures and fittings began to shake and rattle, and from the other room I heard a wail of complaint as whatever Nate was building collapsed around his ears.

"Oh, of all the things - earthquake!" I shouted, and took Lila's hand, "Kids! Get in here and get under the table, now!"

"No, Mom!" Lila screamed, "It's not an earthquake; it's a jet! It's Dad! 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, weariness forgotten. My kids were already rushing towards the descending jet as it touched down in the nearby field. As the roar of the engines slowly faded to a whine, the rear cargo door came swinging down…and there he was.

In that instant, my world went soft. The Quinjet's engines suddenly seemed muted and far away, and the world around me faded into insignificance as Clint came walking down the ramp. Slowly, carefully, I picked my way towards him as he caught Coop and Lila in a rough, tearful bear hug, before kneeling down to ruffle Nat's hair and kiss him on the cheek. The kids' laughs and screams echoed joyfully across the field, and the gentle, disbelieving smile on his face was like that of a man seeing the sun after decades underground.

He looked up at my approach, and as our gazes locked I smiled, and felt tears welling up anew. Abandoning caution to the winds, I rushed across the field and took his face wonderingly in my hands, even as he did the same. We just stood there, too shocked to speak and too stunned to cry, and afraid to speak in case this single, perfect moment was stolen from us.

"You…you're just as I remember you," he said gruffly, "You haven't aged a day."

"It doesn't matter now," I smiled tearfully, and traced a gentle line across his forehead, "What have you done with your hair? Is that a mohawk? Are those tattoos?"

Clint continued to stare at me, as if he hadn't heard what he said, and when he spoke his voice was a deep, hoarse whisper.

"I've missed you all so much."

Without another word he pulled me in for a long, deep kiss. In 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.