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Searece (all): Omg thank you so much! You are so sweet! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. Please enjoy this chapter!


"Landon, I really don't want to do this."

Gwen yet again pulled her hand out of her date's. He turned around, starting to look annoyed with her. "It's just a bit of fun," he told her, rolling his eyes a bit. "You are so uptight, Strange. You know that, right?"

"I just think it's not a good idea," Gwen replied. "We could get arrested, you know."

"It's just a few drinks," Landon said. "Let's just ditch this place already."

"You're the one who asked me to this damn dance!" Gwen snapped. "If all you wanted was to drink, then you should've asked a different girl."

He turned to her with a sneer. "Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have asked the school bitch."

"Yeah, I'm a bitch. And you're an asshole. Glad to hear we're on the same page," she shot back, her tone full of sarcasm. "Have fun getting a DUI, asshole." With that, she stormed off, leaving her date behind.

Back inside the gymnasium, the music was still going, and the dance floor was packed. Gwen shoved her way through the crowd, trying to find the table that she and Alex had gotten at the beginning of the dance.

Once the song ended, Alex rushed back to the table and grabbed her water bottle. "There you are! Where's Landon? You two totally just disappeared."

"That asshole?" Gwen snorted. "He had other plans, it turns out."

Alex made a sympathetic face. "Oh, Gwen, I'm sorry. He seemed so nice."

"Yeah, well, that's high school guys I guess," Gwen replied. She sat down and removed her heels, rubbing the soles of her feet.

"You know what? Screw him," Alex said. She sat down across from her friend. "You're way too hot for him, anyway." Gwen smiled a bit at that. Alex's eyes glanced up and then she looked back at Gwen. "Speaking of hot, that guy over there is totally checking you out." She nodded to someone behind Gwen.

Subtly, Gwen looked over her shoulder to see who Alex was talking about. She caught a glimpse of a dark haired boy who had his eyes trained on her back.

Gwen could not deny that he was handsome. That was an understatement, actually. He was perhaps the best looking guy she had ever seen. He was prettier than even Syd Barrett, and that was saying something for Gwen. And yet, it was not in her nature to chase after a guy. Guys always came to her. Not the other way around.

Alex nudged her leg. "Go talk to him," she encouraged her friend.

Gwen shook her head. "Nah. He's probably just as much of an asshole. I think I'll just take an early night." She slipped her heels back on while Alex frowned. "See you on Monday, Alex."

Alex muttered a goodbye, clearly disappointed that Gwen wasn't staying. Gwen knew that Alex wasn't going to be happy with her come Monday, but Gwen was finding it hard to care about Alex's feelings. She just wanted to go home.

This is why I don't go on dates, she thought to herself as she slowly pushed through the crowd and to the exit.

Before she could make it very far, however, someone grabbed her upper arm. She whirled around, expecting Landon again, but was surprised to see the dark haired man.

Loki.

He was wearing that smirk that always irritated her. But for some reason, he did not seem so irritating now. "What's the matter, darling? Don't you trust me?"

That sentence felt so familiar and Gwen's heart skipped a beat. She shook her head in response to his question.

"Fair enough," he breathed, and he got closer to her. She could feel his breath now.

"Wake up."

Gwen's eyes flew open. She ran a hand through her hair and looked around. Her head was resting on Paige's shoulder. Paige was shaking her arm. "You were dreaming," Paige told her. "Did you know you talk in your sleep?"

Gwen groaned and rubbed her tired eyes. "So I've been told," she muttered, still half asleep. Her dad had in fact told her that she spoke in her sleep. Usually it only happened when Gwen had dreams.

Her head snapped up. Speaking of dreams… "Did I say anything interesting?" she asked Paige, trying to keep her voice casual.

Paige shrugged. "Something about an asshole and going home," she said. "What were you dreaming about?"

She sighed, disgusted with herself. "Just some asshole," she murmured. With that, she got up from the couch, stretching her legs. Gwen didn't remember falling asleep the night before. She was still wearing her clothes from the day before and so was Paige. "I'm going to go upstairs and steal some of Tony's Advil." She has recently run out of pain meds and her cramps were starting again. Paige just nodded and Gwen left, glad for a bit of alone time to think.

What kind of messed up dreams was she having lately? Gwen rarely dreamed. When she did, they were always really weird, but this one took it to a new level.

What did the dream mean? Part of it had been just a flashback to her junior prom. She remembered Landon all too well. He had asked her out on a few dates before then, and he had seemed like a nice enough guy. And Gwen supposed that he still was a nice guy in some ways, but she had known to put her foot down. She was not going to be pressured into doing something she didn't want to do, just because some guy was doing it.

But after that, the dream had gone completely off the rails. Why on earth was she dreaming about Loki? And why in that way? She hated him. He was annoying and arrogant and smug and a murderer and a god and all around not Gwen's type. So why was she now having romantic dreams about him?

The very thought made Gwen want to hurl.

Chill out, Strange, she thought to herself. It's totally normal to have weird dreams like this. You can't control what you dream about. Besides, your hormones are all out of sorts right now. That explains it.

Feeling a bit more confident now that she had an excuse for her dream, she straightened her back and let out a yawn. "Jarvis, what time is it?"

"It's 4:32 am," responded the AI.

"Great," Gwen muttered. She was awake now, and she didn't think that she'd be going back to sleep any time soon.

She stepped out into the penthouse and headed straight for the kitchen. She yawned, running a hand through her hair and then froze. There, leaning against the cabinets, was her father and Clara, snoozing away. Clara's head was on Stephen's shoulder, and Stephen had his head on hers. Beside them was an empty whiskey bottle.

Gwen smirked. She had only seen her father drunk one time before, so this was a rare sight indeed. She tiptoed around them and opened the drawer where Tony kept some Advil and then slammed it shut as loudly as possible.

Stephen and Clara's heads jerked up suddenly, awoken by the loud noise. "Waz goin on?" Stephen mumbled, his eyes still half closed. He passed a hand over his eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you two," Gwen apologized, her voice overly loud and cheery. "How was your night?"

"Can you whisper?" groaned Stephen. Clara nodded in agreement, keeping her head between her knees.

"Ah, are we hungover?" Gwen asked, smirking again. "I know the feeling. I suppose that's why one shouldn't drink, right dad? Terrible idea, really. I don't want to see you doing it again."

Stephen glared at her. "Don't be a smartass," he lectured her.

Gwen looked at him innocently. "But I thought you wanted me to be like you?"

Clara laughed softly. Stephen shot her a glare that said, You're not helping. Clara just shrugged. "It's karma, Stephen. You have to put up with someone exactly like you."

Gwen smiled at the woman. "Ok, I like you. Mom had good taste in friends." Clara returned her smile. "In any case, I'm glad I found you in the kitchen, rather than in a bed or something. There's worse things you could've done while drunk."

Now they both glared at her, while Gwen smiled innocently. "You're disgusting," Stephen told her.

"That's fair," Gwen said. She opened the bottle of pills, took a few for herself and then tossed the bottle to the two of them. "Here. You probably need this more than I do." With that, she headed back for the elevator.

Clara smiled a bit. "She really is just like you," she told Stephen.

"I know," Stephen replied, smiling proudly.


Gwen checked her reflection once again, making sure everything was perfect. She was not used to people seeing her before she was completely ready, and three people had already seen her that way. She did not want a fourth person to have that knowledge.

It was still quite early, being just barely 6:00 am, but Gwen decided that she would offer Loki breakfast anyway. She was hungry now, and maybe he was too.

She opened the door. Loki was lying on his bed. Gwen was about to close the door when he suddenly shot up. "What do you want?" he demanded, clearly still half asleep. His dark hair was somehow still immaculate. Stupid gods, Gwen thought bitterly. Why did they get to wake up looking perfect? As her eyes took in the rest of him, she had to look away.

"I, uh, I just wanted to see if you still… still wanted breakfast," Gwen explained. She kept her eyes on the ceiling. Loki's choice of sleepwear was rather distracting. Or lack of sleepwear, rather. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Whether or not he was wearing pants was a mystery because his lower half was covered by his blanket. He had better be wearing pants, Gwen thought to herself. That was the last thing she wanted to see. Especially after the dream she had just had.

"Why are you waking me up this early in the morning?" was all he said in reply. His voice was deeper than normal.

"Clearly it's because I couldn't get you out of my head," Gwen said sarcastically. She would never admit that that was partially true. "Now, your worship, if you'll get dressed, you can come get breakfast."

Loki was more awake now. He looked at her and smirked. "And are you going to stand there and watch?"

"Only if you want me to," she shot back right away.

Yes, she really had just said that.

It was all a part of her plan. If Loki was going to flirt with her, she wasn't going to just stand by, saying nothing. She was going to play his game right along with him. Be careful what you wish for, your highness.

He gave a soft laugh, though he was mildly surprised by this sudden change in attitude. Just yesterday, she had hated him. She had spoken to him only to insult him. Now her attitude had completely flipped? She was a strange girl, to be sure.

He stood up and moved to the door. Yet he made no move to put on a shirt of any kind. "Are you going to put something on or what?"

"No. I think I'll stay like this. It clearly bothers you."

It did, actually. But admitting that wouldn't fall in line with Gwen's plan. So, she forced herself not to react in any way, other than to shrug and give a soft smirk. "Do as you wish then," she said. "Let's go."

She left the room, shaking her head. This plan of hers was not going to be easy. But at least it would mess with Loki.

Paige was still in the living room, still watching The Office. If she thought it was funny, she didn't show it. Her expression was stoic, unchanging. When Gwen had laughed, Paige hadn't understood. Stephen felt the same way about it, so Gwen just supposed that she was the only one with a sense of humor.

While Gwen started on grabbing things for breakfast, Loki walked out to join them. Apparently, Gwen's lack of a reaction at his refusal to wear a shirt had a reverse psychology type of effect on him, because he had decided to put on a shirt. That put Gwen more at ease and she felt more comfortable with what she was doing.

Gwen sighed. "So much for breakfast and a show," she said, teasing him some more.

Loki merely smirked. Paige turned to look at Gwen. "What do you mean? There's a show on right here."

Gwen waved a hand in the air dismissively. "Long story," she told Paige. "Do you want some toast or are you going to join Clara?"

"I'll join my mother," she said softly. With that, she turned off the tv and left the two of them alone.

Gwen watched her go until she was completely out of sight. Then she turned back to Loki. "Toast?" she asked casually, as though nothing unusual had happened.

"Very well," he responded, equally casual. He watched Gwen closely as she made a couple pieces of buttered toast. He couldn't help but wonder what her deal was lately. The Gwen he thought he knew wouldn't be treating him like this after what he pulled. She was supposed to be getting angry, overreacting to his every comment. Not flirting right back with him.

Oh, but this could be just as much fun, Loki thought. Just how far could he push this until she broke? Where would she draw the line? How far was she willing to go? Yes, it could be very fun indeed.

Gwen finished the breakfast and gave him his half. She sat down across from him, matching his gaze. She wondered if her behavior would ever throw him off. Just how far was he going to take it?

He started this game, she thought, but I'm going to finish it.

"So, what are we doing today?" Loki asked, not bothering to hide his suggestive tone.

Gwen forced a smile, rather than scowling as she normally would. "I believe Steve wants us to be there while they interrogate Conner again. Natasha hinted that he may want to talk with me."

"Why?"

"You heard him the other day," she reminded him. "He said something about wanting to meet whoever was in charge of guarding both Paige and you. Meaning me. Probably because he wants more information about all of us."

"And the Avengers want you to give it to him?"

"I don't know," Gwen admitted. "I suppose we'll find out today."

"He won't talk to anyone else, Strange."

Stephen shot a glare at the Black Widow, something that almost no one dared to do. "I don't care who he will or won't talk to, that's my daughter you're talking about. And he's psychotic. I don't want her anywhere near him."

Steve stepped forward. "I know this will be hard to accept, but it's Gwen's decision. She's an adult now. We just wanted to let you know what the plan is."

There it was again. That reminder that his little girl was all grown up now. It was hard for Stephen to accept. Ever since that CPS worker had arrived at his office, his entire life has revolved around Gwen. Every decision he had ever made had been for her benefit. It was hard for him to accept that he wasn't behind the steering wheel now. And he was definitely a back seat driver.

"Fine," Stephen grumbled. He felt someone pat him on the back. It was Clara. Clara understood that Stephen cared a lot about Gwen and that it was hard for him to let her go. But he was slowly getting better.

"Speaking of Gwen, where is she?" Clara asked. She turned to look at Paige. "Do you know what could be taking her so long?"

Paige shook her head. "It's probably something to do with Loki," she admitted. "He's been… messing with her. A lot more than usual."

The others exchanged glances. This really shouldn't have come as a surprise to any of them, but they had hoped that Loki was serious when he said he did it only for the mission. Not to taunt Gwen with it.

"We'll take care of that later," Steve said. They had a job that they needed to focus on. They could deal with whatever Loki was up to later.

"Take care of what later?"

Gwen had arrived, followed closely by Loki. She looked between the other Avengers curiously.

"We'll explain later," Natasha told her. "I've tried speaking with Conner and he's now insisting that he'll only talk to you, Gwen." Gwen nodded. She had been prepared for this possibility yesterday.

"It's still your decision," Steve reminded her. "You don't need to talk to him."

"I can talk to him," Gwen said right away. "But I'm going to need some help."

Clara handed her a commlink. "Use this. We can guide you through the conversation. Just remember to keep calm. He's going to try to get in your head. Don't let him. Focus on finding out what information you can about Hydra or Loki's scepter. If you're feeling overwhelmed, leave. Our first priority is your safety. Do you have any weapons on you?" Gwen shook her head. Clara nodded to Natasha.

Natasha handed her a small dagger. "You remember how to use one of these?"

"Vaguely," Gwen responded, slipping the knife in the belt loop of her jeans. "Not that hard, really. Just stab him." Paige smiled a bit. "The real problem will be stopping myself from using it."

Steve narrowed his eyes at her. "We need him alive, Gwen."

"I know, I know," Gwen sighed. "Right. I'm ready."

They nodded at her and walked back to the cell. Natasha grabbed the door handle for her. "Good luck, Gwen."

Gwen took a deep breath before giving Natasha a nod. Natasha opened the door and Gwen stepped inside.

Mike had his head back on his chair with his eyes closed. He opened them when she came in and smiled his creepy smile. "So, they finally decided to let you near me, did they?" he said.

"I guess so," Gwen replied.

"I'm glad," he told her. "I was very curious about you. Very curious." He looked her up and down, taking her in. His brow furrowed. "You seem familiar. What's your name? Have we met?"

Gwen shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"You only answered my second question," he told her. "Your name?"

"Don't give him your actual name," Steve told her through the earpiece. "The less he knows, the better."

"Mercury," Gwen told Mike. He grinned and then laughed.

"Mercury," he echoed. "So, they've turned you into one of their circus freaks, have they? Even gave you a silly nickname and everything."

Remembering Clara's words, Gwen forced herself not to get angry. "Look, if you only wanted to talk to me to insult me, then I'm afraid this conversation is over."

"Very well," he nodded. "Then ask me what you wanted to know, Mercury."

Gwen crossed her arms. "Where is Loki's scepter?"

"I'm afraid I don't really know," he replied. "We keep moving it around, you see. It's as much a weapon to us as Scarlet was. Not quite as useful, though."

"He's trying to get in your head," Clara told her. "Ignore him."

"Where was it last, then?" Gwen continued. "Any ideas?"

"Redtree!"

Gwen's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"Redtree. That's who you remind me of," he explained. "Clara's dear friend from college. It's like looking at a clone."

Gwen had not been expecting this and she froze. He knew her mother? Why hadn't Clara told her this? Why hadn't her father? How well did he know Jessie?

"Oh, I hated her," he continued when Gwen didn't say anything. He looked to the two way glass mirror that he knew Clara and the others were behind. "Clara never knew just how badly I hated her. But I think the feeling was mutual."

"He's trying to distract you again, Gwen," Steve told her. "Ask him about Rumlow or the scepter again."

But Gwen couldn't find any words. She could only stare blankly at Conner.

"Clara won't ever admit it, but she still loves me. In fact, I think she would have stayed with me had it not been for Redtree and her meddling." His smile slowly fell off his face. "Telling Clara I was scary or up to something."

"Gwen, focus," Natasha reminded her. "Remember the mission."

Gwen cleared her throat. "I'm not interested in your petty rivalry with your wife's best friend," she lied. Because she was interested. She really did want to know more about her mother.

"Oh, but I think you are," he replied. "Why else would you have stayed silent for so long?" Gwen couldn't give him an answer to that. He was right, after all. "And I think you'll like this next part best of all. And you too, sweetheart." He glanced again to the mirror, then back at Gwen. "I knew that Redtree wasn't going to leave this alone, so I did what I had to do. She was going to have a child, and it was the perfect cover." Gwen's breathing stopped. Her nails were digging into her palms. "I had one of my men slip the poison into her system. No one would look for it when they thought she had died in childbirth."

Gwen slowly unfroze. Her fists unclenched. She looked down at the ground, unable to believe what she had just heard.

Mike had killed her mother.

"And now I know why you seem so familiar," he said. "You must've been strong, to have survived the poison, Mercury." He smiled suddenly. "How ironic. That's the very thing we used to kill your mother."

Gwen snapped.

She reached for the blade that Natasha had given her and looked up at him. She walked over to him, pointing it at him. Steve was shouting at her through the commlink, but she couldn't make out his words. She could only focus on Mike.

"Are you going to kill me, Mercury?"

"I would like to," she growled at him. She reached where he was standing and put the blade to his neck.

He merely smiled. "I don't think you will. Killing isn't so easy for your kind."

"You have no idea what I'm capable of," she shot back. Her fingers curled tightly around the handle of the blade.

Before either of them could do anything, Steve had burst in the room. He marched over and grabbed Gwen's arm, pulling her out of the room all while Mike laughed.

He was laughing.

He had the nerve to be laughing.

"Let go of me!" Gwen shouted at Steve, pulling her arm out of his grasp. It was too late for her to go back after Conner. That door had closed and was being watched by Natasha and the others.

Steve looked her in the eyes. "Gwen, I know how much this news must hurt you- "

"Back off, Rogers!" she snapped. "You don't know jack shit about how I'm feeling. That piece of shit killed my mother and you want me to just take that news lying down?" She shook her head furiously. "He doesn't get to live. He doesn't deserve to live."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't change the fact that we need him," Steve said, trying to remain calm. "He knows where Loki's scepter is and- "

"I don't give a shit about that damn scepter or your damn mission!" Gwen shouted. "Did you not hear what he did? That piece of garbage has done nothing but make others miserable his whole life and he should pay for it."

"Gwen, we- "

Gwen snapped at the captain, telling him to do something she wouldn't normally say to him, and stormed off. No one tried to stop her.

The room was eerily silent. Steve, Loki, and Natasha were the only ones whose lives hadn't been directly affected by Mike. At least, not in the way it had affected the others.

Stephen left shortly after. He knew that he needed to be with Gwen right then. He could mourn in private later. Gwen needed him, and in some ways, he needed her.

Clara was still in a state of shock. She was watching the man behind the glass, and seemed to be frozen in that state. All that time she had spent mourning the loss of Jessie and she had never even known… He comforted me, she thought, sick to her stomach. He wiped away my tears after her death and all along… Cool tears slipped down her cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away.

Paige watched her mother's reaction. Her blood was boiling. Mike had hurt her. He had hurt her mother. He had hurt Gwen. Everyone that Paige cared about had been hurt by Mike.

And Paige suddenly found herself agreeing with Gwen. He didn't deserve to live.

The first time Gwen had asked about her mother, she was five years old. Her father had taken her to kindergarten registration, where she met her teacher and some of her fellow classmates. All the other students had both parents with them. She very clearly remembered another little girl with two black pigtails giggling with a woman that looked like an older version of the little girl. When they got back in the car, she asked her father, "Daddy, do I have a mommy?"

Stephen watched her with a mixture of sadness and nervousness. At only five years old, he decided that Gwen wasn't old enough to know what had happened to her mother. He chuckled nervously. "Aren't I enough for you kiddo?" he asked, reaching back and grabbing her foot, wiggling it around. She giggled in delight and forgot that she only had a father.

The next time Gwen asked, she was seven. She had been invited to a birthday party for a boy in her class. All the kids had been playing outside, running around and screaming, all except for Gwen. She was watching as the birthday boy sat on the ground, while his mother cleaned his scraped knee. She washed away the blood, bandaged it, and kissed his forehead. Soon after, the tears and sniffs had disappeared and he was running around again, but not after thanking his mother with a great big hug. When she got home, she asked Stephen again. "Dad, do I have a mother?"

Her father watched her with dad eyes. He couldn't use the excuse of her not being old enough for much longer. "She's… not here anymore, Gwen," he answered haltingly. Gwen blinked once, looking confused. Before she could ask more questions, Stephen stood up in a hurry. "How about we go out for dinner? Your pick."

The third time Gwen had asked about her mom, she was ten years old. She had come home from school, excited to finish the last Harry Potter book. During the scene where Harry brings his parents back with the Resurrection Stone, she had to slam the book shut. Her eyes were squeezed shut, trying to fight off the tears. Gwen had taken a guess that her mother had died too, but she didn't know for sure. Now, she needed to know.

She waited for her father to get home from work and for Flora to leave. "Dad," she demanded, the minute the door had closed behind Flora, "what happened to my mother?"

Stephen knew he couldn't hide it from her any longer. She was old enough. She had been for a long time, but he had been too scared to talk about it. Scared of what she might think about him. He heaved a sigh and rubbed his tired eyes. "Sit down, Gwen," he told her. "I'll tell you all about her once I get changed."

Gwen waited patiently for him to return, when he did, he was wearing his casual clothes and in his hands was a golden frame. There were a few pictures around the house. Most of them were of Gwen: Gwen on her first birthday, Gwen on her first day of school, Gwen winning academic awards, Gwen with her father. She hadn't seen this picture before. It must've been one he kept in his room.

Stephen had given her a strict set of rules from the time she was young: always get good grades, school is the priority, only two hours of tv per day, lights out by nine, and never go in his room. She hadn't questioned this. Gwen had just assumed that he wanted to keep his personal belongings private. Everyone had their secrets. In return, Stephen respected her privacy. Gwen could only remember a few times that he had come into her room.

He sat down beside her and handed over the frame. The photo was obviously from the nineties. One of the people in the pictures was her father. He looked much younger and his hair was slightly curly. He was grinning broadly at the camera and his arm was wrapped around a woman. She was beautiful. Blonde haired, brown eyes, a wide smile that showed off her bright, white teeth. Gwen thought with wonder, She looks just like me.

"This is your mother and I in college," Stephen told her, watching his daughter's wide eyes with a smile. "Her name was Jessie. We met at a party and fell in love not long after."

Gwen nodded. She was listening, but her eyes were glued to her mother. "We graduated college together and we moved into the same house."

"You didn't get married?" she asked curiously.

Slowly, he shook his head. "No. We didn't. I never got the chance to propose. Maybe if…" He trailed off, still shaking his head. "I made a mistake Gwen. Your mother and I got in a fight one day. We said some mean things, things we shouldn't have said. Jessie decided to move out."

"Where did she go?"

Stephen's face hardened. "She moved in with her friend Clara," he said.

"Do you have a picture of Clara?" Gwen asked curiously.

Stephen started to shake his head but then stopped. "I might," he admitted. "Hang on. I'll be right back." He returned to his room and came back with a leather bound book. "This belonged to your mother. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but now is as good a time as any." He handed it to her. Gwen put the frame down on the couch beside her, being overly cautious to make sure it wouldn't break. Written on the leather in gold lettering were the words Jessie's Memories.

She flipped it open and saw a picture of a baby that looked similar to Gwen's baby pictures. She was being held by two smiling people, both with blonde hair and brown eyes. "That's your grandparents. Jessie's parents divorced when she was about your age. She didn't see her mom very often after that. Her mom, Linda, remarried a military man and they moved around a lot. I'm not sure where she is now, if she's still alive. Jessie's father, Joseph, was nice. I met him a few times. He got cancer and died shortly before you turned one. We visited him in the hospital a few times. He cried the first time he saw you, saying you looked just like Jessie."

Gwen flipped through the pages, watching her mother grow up. She saw her high school graduation, her first date. Beneath each picture was a scribbled caption in neat handwriting about what was going on.

"That there is Clara," Stephen said, pointing to a picture of her mother with a laughing woman. "She and your mother were roommates in college. She never liked me. I think she was jealous of how much smarter I was than her." Gwen smiled at that. She knew exactly what it was like to be the smartest in the room and to have others hate her for it. "Anyway, after your mother left, she moved in with Clara and her husband. I'm guessing soon after, she found out she was pregnant with you. Jessie always wanted kids, so I imagine that she was excited, but I don't know for sure. She never told me that she was pregnant. I didn't find out that you existed until after she had died."

"Why didn't she tell you?" Gwen asked softly.

"It was probably my fault," Stephen said miserably. "At the time, I… I didn't think I was ready for kids." He had almost said that he didn't want kids but thought better of it. "And after our argument, we were both extremely bitter towards one another. I didn't want to speak to her and she didn't want to speak to me. I wish it could've been different. If I could go back and change what I did and what I said, I would."

"Did you go to her funeral?"

He nodded. "We did. You were very upset during all of it. I don't blame you. Clara was there and she and I had an argument. She blamed me for Jessie's death and- "

"That's stupid," Gwen burst out in anger. "She's stupid. It wasn't your fault." In her mind, nothing was ever his fault. He was without fault, her perfect example.

"Maybe," he agreed, glad that she didn't blame him for it. "But she still yelled at me about it at the funeral. Anyway, she blamed me for it and said that I didn't deserve to raise you. She wanted to be the one to adopt you."

"I'm glad she didn't," Gwen stated. "I don't need anyone but you, dad." Stephen smiled and pulled her into a side hug.

Gwen hadn't asked him about Jessie after that. She still thought about her mother a lot. It hurt to think that she wouldn't have a mother in her life like most kids had.

When she was twelve, Flora had passed away. And that got Gwen thinking about her mother again. Would there have ever needed to be a funeral for her mother if Gwen had never existed?

Gwen had thought hard about that question and her answer was no. Jessie wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for Gwen. And from that day on, Gwen had blamed herself for her mother's death.

Until now.

Now she knew the truth. And it was somehow worse. Her mother's death has been no accident. That psycho downstairs had killed her. He was the reason Gwen had grown up without a mom. He was the reason Gwen had blamed herself for her mother's death. He was the one to blame, the one at fault.

Gwen clutched her stuffed pig closer to her chest and wiped away the tears that streamed down her face.

There was a soft knock on her door. They opened the door without waiting for an answer. It was Stephen. Gwen had expected that it would be him. She put the pig down and practically ran to him. They embraced tightly. Silence fell over them, except for the occasional sniff or sob.

"Gwen, I'm so sorry you had to find out like this," Stephen told her. "I'm so sorry I ever left your mother. If I hadn't been so obsessed with my job, we would've stayed together, and maybe I could've saved her."

"Don't," Gwen whispered. "Don't blame yourself for what happened to mom. That's what I did the past seven years, and it does nothing but make you miserable. This is all on Conner."

"What?" Stephen put his hand on Gwen's cheek, looking her in the eye. "You… you blamed yourself?"

She nodded. Gwen hadn't told anyone that before, simply because she didn't want the pity and comfort they would offer her. "I know, it was stupid. Especially now that I know what really happened."

"Hey, even if… that thing downstairs had never been involved, it wouldn't have been your fault," he told her. "Why didn't you talk to me about this?"

"Because I was being stubborn, I guess," she confessed. "I didn't want to hear the little speech you just gave me. I wanted to wallow in self pity and I didn't want logic." Of course she took the cynical view of her situation.

"You weren't being stupid," he told her. Even if she didn't blame herself now, he wanted her to know this. "It's a normal reaction to grief and death." He stroked her hair. "Are you ok now?"

She shook her head. "No. But I just need time. I'll be ok, eventually."

"I know you will. And I will too."

"Dad?" she asked. "Could you… could you spend the night here? I would go back to the Sanctum with you, but I have to guard Loki and…" She smacked her forehead. "Loki! I forgot that I need to lock him back up."

"Steve took care of it," Stephen told her. Gwen nodded. "And yes, I'll stay here, if you want. I… I think it's best if we stay together right now, anyway." He took her hand and squeezed it.

Gwen let go of his hand and went to her drawer. She pulled out a familiar leather book. "It's been a while since I've looked through this," she admitted. "Do you want to see it?"

"Of course."

The father and daughter spent the rest of the day pouring over the contents of the scrap book until they fell asleep, curled up on Gwen's bed.

Having been raised the way she was, Paige didn't view murder the same way most people did. When she was younger, she just considered it a job. Not that she thought it was fun or anything. It was also something that kept those around her happy. If she killed the person she was assigned to, she didn't get hurt. It was survival to her.

Since leaving Hydra, her views had shifted. She was starting to learn why it was something so obscene to everyone else. For the most part, it seemed that murder of any kind was wrong and immoral.

But then, there always seemed to be exceptions to society's norms. And apparently, the rules of murder were no different.

Gwen had said it herself. Conner deserved to die because of what he had done. Steve has agreed. So, Conner was one of the exceptions.

Which is why Paige found it so easy to do what needed to be done.

She had disabled Stark's security system once before and she was able to do it again (though it was considerably more difficult this time around). Once it was down, she made her way downstairs, blade in hand.

If Mike was surprised to see her, he didn't show it. He simply smiled blandly at her. "Are you here to kill me, Scarlet?"

Paige did not answer. She simply stood there, several feet away. She looked him up and down, deciding how best to go about it.

"Would you really kill me?" he asked. "Remember, Scarlet: I was the one who cared for you in that base. I was the one that loved you. I gave you everything. All your knowledge, your powers. You owe everything you have to me."

"I owe you nothing," Paige spat. "You did all that for yourself. You never gave a shit about me."

"That's Clara speaking," he said. "You don't believe that. That's just what Clara told you to believe. You know as well as I do, Scarlet, that you cannot be like Clara. You're a weapon. My weapon. Not the Avengers' puppet."

Paige shook her head slowly. "I'm not Clara. And I'm not the Avengers' puppet. I'm Paige. And maybe I am a weapon. Or a monster. But you're even worse." She took a step closer to him. "You may have created me, but you lost control of me a long time ago." A rare smirk crossed her face. "Ironic. In a way, you designed your own death."

With that, she jabbed the blade into his shoulder. Mike didn't scream, but it was clear he was in pain. His pride kept him from screaming or begging for his life.

Again she stabbed him. And again. And again. And again. Over and over. She didn't bother to keep track of how many wounds she inflicted on him. She just knew that she wanted him to hurt. To suffer. She wanted him to suffer as badly as she had. As badly as he had hurt her.

Mike's death was quiet on his part. He truly was insane and his insanity was permanently stuck to his face when Paige was through with him.

Blood was pooling on the floor. It covered Paige's hands and stained her clothes.

Feeling eerily calm, she stood up, dropping the knife by his side. She wiped the blood off on her shirt, then decided to remove it. It was permanently damaged anyway, and she didn't need it.

A feeling of satisfaction overwhelmed her. Paige had no regrets. She did what she had to do. Mike deserved what he got. And she wasn't going to apologize for it. Or forgive him for what he had done.

She could rest now.

"She's beautiful," Clara said, looking at Jessie's baby with a wide smile. "She looks so much like you, Jess."

Jessie smiled, feeling both tired and proud. "She does, doesn't she?" she agreed. She brushed her light blonde hair with a finger.

"Do you have a name?" the nurse asked, holding her clipboard in hand.

"Guinevere," Jessie replied. "Guinevere Strange."

"Lovely name." The nurse wrote it down and left the two friends alone again.

Clara looked at her friend seriously. "You are going to tell him, aren't you?"

Jessie hesitated, then shrugged. Clara narrowed her eyes. "Jess," she said sharply. "He has a right to know."

"I know," Jessie sighed. "But… you didn't hear what he said, Clara. He made it very clear that he doesn't want children. Or me. I just… I need time. To figure out how to tell him. Ok?"

"Good," Clara said with a nod. "Now, let me hold my goddaughter." She extended her arms and Jessie handed her over with a smile.

She sighed deeply and then started coughing. "What's wrong?" Clara asked her sharply. "Are you ok?" She had said earlier that she wasn't feeling well, but everyone naturally assumed that that was due to the trauma of giving birth.

"Fine," Jessie got out. Her words started to slur. She tried to move her hands to reach out to Clara, but it was almost as if she were paralyzed. Her vision blurred, and she couldn't focus on Clara. "I don't feel very good," she got out. She sounded as though she were having trouble speaking.

"I'll call a nurse," Clara said right away, standing up.

Jessie lifted her hand a bit, but even that small gesture exhausted her. "Gwen," she murmured. "Let me see Gwen."

Clara hesitated before deciding to fulfill Jessie's last wish. She placed Gwen on her chest. Gwen's eyes had fluttered open, revealing her bright blue eyes. Stephen's eyes.

"Nurse!" Clara shouted. "Nurse! We need help in here!" Several doctors and nurses rushed towards the room. Clara hurried back to Jessie's side. Gwen started to cry. Jessie's eyes had closed. Her chest was no longer moving. Already, she started to turn cold. She was gone.

Clara started to cry along with Gwen. Crying for her mom. Her mom.

"Mom."

Clara awoke with a start. She gripped the sheets tightly. Her pillow was stained with the tears she had shed earlier.

"Mom."

Clara blinked and her eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out the silhouette of Paige. "Paige?" she whispered. "What is it? Are you ok?"

Paige nodded. "I… I was wondering if I could stay here with you."

Clara smiled a bit. "Of course you can," she replied, patting the other side of the bed. "You never need to ask me that. You're always welcome."

Paige climbed under the covers, feeling safe. Safer than she had ever felt in her life. "Mom?" she whispered again, after several minutes.

"Yes, Paige?" Clara was already starting to nod off again.

"Please forgive me."

"For what?"

"Everything," she answered.

Clara nodded. "Always."