Chapter 13: The Medic at the End of the World

I stared at Doctor Strange in astonishment. Surely he couldn't be serious, could he?

"You..." I said, eventually, "You want to talk to me?"

"Yes," he said, "I trust that isn't a problem."

"No! No, of course not," I said, "Would you like to come in?"

"If I may," he said, "It's nothing serious; just a courtesy call."

I gave him a suspicious look, "The Master of the Mystic Arts makes courtesy calls now?"

"As the 'Master of the Mystic Arts', I'll make whatever damn calls I please," he said, with just the hint of a smile, "I trust you're keeping well?"

"Since I saw you yesterday?" I said, and stepped aside to let him in, "I've only been injured once, if that's what you're asking."

"Congratulations," he said blandly, "That must have represented quite a challenge for you."

"My daughter shot me in the face with a tag arrow."

"Is that so?" he said, "Clearly, she's either an excellent shot or you have an undiscovered talent for slapstick comedy."

"The first one," I replied tartly, "Can I interest you in a drink? Tea? Coffee?"

"Coffee, please," he said, looking around with some interest, "I must say, this is a lovely home. Very...provincial."

"I like it," I said, and added, "Shoes off please. Unless you have a spell that stops you from tracking Tibetan dirt across my floor."

Leaving him to his own devices, I went into the kitchen and got some filter coffee on the go. It hummed and burbled gently in the background as I did a quick last-minute sweep for anything potentially incriminating in the living room. I didn't think Strange would be the sort to go telling tales to Fury, but at the same time I didn't want to give him any ammunition if I could avoid it. Spotting Caleb's phone nestled on the cushions, I quickly threw it under a blanket and sat down just as Strange came through, sporting a pair of hideous lime-green and yellow striped socks that almost hurt to look at.

"Horrible, aren't they?" he said, obviously catching my expression.

"They're not what I expected," I admitted, "I kind of pictured you having fifty pairs of identical black socks."

"That's...a good guess," he said, slowly, "But Wong brought these for me, and you know how it is with gifts."

"I have three kids," I said, and pointed at the strata of pictures stuck to the fridge door, "Anyway - please have a seat. I'll go call Clint."

"Oh, is he in? That's fortunate."

"Yeah, he's just upstairs - hey, Clint!" I raised my voice, and Strange winced as he settled himself down on the sofa, "It's Strange!"

Clint's face appeared at the stop of the stairs, "What's strange, hon?"

"I mean it's Doctor Strange!" I said, and turned back to the doctor, "Um, sorry."

"Oh, no - it happens all the time," he said, a little ruefully, "It was worse at school."

"Wait; Strange is your real name?" I blinked, "I thought it was an alias."

"You aren't the first," he said, and sighed, "And you definitely won't be the last."

"Well-" there was a loud, obnoxious beep from the kitchen, and I leapt to my feet, "Oh good! The coffee's ready. How do you take yours?"

"Black, thank you. No sugar."

With a faint sense of relief, I ducked into the kitchen and started pouring out the coffee. From down the hall, there came the creak of wood and then my husband came bounding into the living room, his face a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and suspicion, "Ah, Clint. Good to see you again."

"Yeah," Clint said, curtly, "What's goin' on, Stephen?"

"Nothing serious, I assure you," Strange said, "I'm just...keeping you apprised of recent developments."

"You mean, since yesterday?"

"Quite so," he said, "I'd like to wait until Laura returns; to avoid repeating myself, you understand."

"It's okay!" I called, "I can hear!"

"Well, in that case I'll proceed," Strange said, "Following the...excitement yesterday at the Blip Centre, I took the liberty of following up on Bulgakov's condition. It took my colleagues an hour or so to track him down, but we eventually traced him to the district hospital."

"And…?" Clint said, anxiously. In the next room, I put the coffee pot down and listened intently, my heart pounding in my ears.

"He will make a full recovery," said the doctor, in a carefully professional tone. I gasped, and looked around into the living room just in time to see Clint sit down heavily on the sofa.

"That ain't possible," he said, bluntly, "That simply ain't possible."

"As far as the hospital is concerned, Bulgakov suffered from a breakdown following the earlier emergency case they received. I believe that was a middle aged woman."

"I heard Thera talking about her. Flora, I think," I said, "Coffee, Clint?"

"Uh...sure," said my husband, apparently still slightly in shock, "So the hospital thinks Bulgakov's a mental case?"

"According to their patient history he attempted self-harm. The first responder was alerted, and as in the earlier case an intervention was carried out before any serious damage could be done."

"'Any serious damage'?" Clint said hotly, "Are they kidding? The man was tortured!"

"He has a couple of minor lacerations on his arms and face. There was no evidence of more extensive injuries."

"But his eyes-"

"Clint," Strange said placatingly, "I saw him very briefly from a distance, but the gentleman in question was sitting up in bed, eating, and sharing a joke with one of the nurses. If I didn't know better, I would say that he was in near-perfect health."

"So he doesn't remember being tortured, then?" I asked, as I handed both Clint and Strange their coffees. Strange inclined his head in thanks, and took a small sip of the steaming liquid.

"Interesting blend," he noted, after a moment, "And...no, he doesn't. He apparently remembers feeling very scared and then cutting pains, but as far as the hospital is concerned that doesn't need torture to explain."

"That's bullshit," Clint said, "We have proof he was tortured! Caleb was taking photos as he did it!"

"Do you have those to hand?"

"Yeah, sure," my husband gave me a quick look, and with a sigh I tugged the phone out from its hiding place under the blanket and handed it to him. Clint unlocked the phone and handed it over.

"Careful," he said warningly, "They ain't pretty."

"Please, Clint," Strange snorted, as he prodded at the screen, "I've probably seen the insides of more people than anyone here-"

His face suddenly went completely blank, but as he swiped through the images his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Interesting," he said eventually, "Very interesting. Thank you for sharing those with me."

"So you believe us?" I said. Strange gave me an odd smile.

"My apologies, Laura; I always believed you, but perhaps I didn't make that sufficiently clear. As I said, he would seem to be in perfect health if I didn't know better. As I do know better, I have arranged to have Bulgakov transferred to the Metro-General hospital in New York for further assessments by a friend of mine. He'll be flown out this time next week."

"You think that they'll find something?"

"I think if there's anything to find, she'll find it."

"New York?" Clint thought about this for a second, and then nudged me, "Hold on; his wife doesn't live far from there."

"That's true," I said, "She's only in New Jersey."

"Is that so?" said Strange, with some surprise, "I don't suppose you have her contact details, do you?"

"They're on that phone. It's the most recent number" Clint said, "We rang her just before you came to let her know that Bulgakov was alive, but…"

"...she hung up on us," I finished, "Maybe you'll have better luck."

"Excellent," Strange glanced briefly at the phone, and then handed it back to Clint, "I'll be sure to call her as soon as I can. If possible, I'll attempt to have her flown in to accompany him on the return journey."

"That's really nice of you, Strange," I smiled, "You don't have to do that."

"Five years is too long to be apart," he said. Despite the clinically professional tone, I could sense a note of guilt nibbling around the edges, "They both deserved better."

"This is better. Thanks to you Bulgakov won't be left stranded in that damn Blip Centre, and he gets to be with his family again," I said, "What more can you do?"

"There's always more one can do, Laura. Whether or not it's wise to do it is another matter entirely…"

Strange trailed off, and for a little while we sat in silence while the sounds of birdsong filtered gently through the house. Eventually, the doctor appeared to reach a decision and downed the rest of his coffee in a single gulp, "In any case, I shan't impose any further on your time. Thank you for the coffee, and I wish you both a good-"

"Hold on, Stephen," Clint said abruptly, "You're leaving? After tellin' us all... that?"

"That certainly appears to be the case."

"You can't just drop that kind of bombshell on us and run off back to your monastery!"

"I think you'll find that I can," Strange said, with that rather annoying smile, "As I said, this was a courtesy call."

"Well, thanks for the courtesy," said Clint, "But you ain't told us why you're doin' this."

Strange inclined his head, "I beg your pardon?"

"Why pull out all the stops for this one guy? Considerin' that we ain't never heard of you until Thanos turned up, I don't think that checking up on patients an' booking passenger flights is your kind of thing."

"I'm... not sure what you want me to say."

"That you're doin' this 'cause you've been spooked by Thera? C'mon; it's obvious."

"I'm not 'spooked' by Thera!" the doctor flared, "I am 'cautious', possibly even 'wary', but that is all."

"'That's all'?" Clint retorted, "Strange, this guy an' his fiancee knows everything about my family! Everything! Are you seriously tellin' me that you, the world-famous 'Master of the Mystic Arts' are 'wary' of him? That ain't exactly reassuring!"

"And how, exactly, would you like me to reassure you?"

"Could you just tell us what you know? Please?" I said, and put a calming hand on my husband's shoulder, "We know that you saw...other Theras when you were looking into the future. Hell, you basically blackmailed him with that fact."

"...true."

"And we're pretty sure you were only looking to see how to defeat Thanos. That'd mean that...oh," I felt a jolt, deep inside, "Thera was at the Battle of Earth, wasn't he?"

Strange stared contemplatively at the wall, clearly considering carefully what to say next. When he looked back, there was a distinctly amused expression on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Clearly, I've underestimated you."

"Maybe not," I said, "I probably should've worked that out a little earlier."

"She's right though, isn't she," Clint stated, "That's where you saw Thera."

"...yes," Strange said, and sighed, "Thera, or at least other versions of Thera, was at the Battle of Earth."

"Good call, hon," Clint said, and gave me a quick high-five.

"He wasn't there often, mind you. In all the futures I surveyed, he appeared maybe half a million times along with a changing group of individuals. Sometimes they were there and he was absent. Regardless, it was never a good sign."

"Why?" I said urgently, "What did he do?"

"I didn't say he did anything."

"No, you just implied it."

"I've experienced fourteen million possible timelines, Laura," he said, in a surprisingly weary tone, "I've seen people acting in ways that I would never have imagined that they'd be capable of. For instance: can you imagine you standing side-by-side with Agent Romanoff, facing down a swarm of onrushing aliens? It happened."

"Me?" I blinked, "But I was killed by Thanos!"

"Not always," he said, "One of the key determinants of how a given timeline played out was who was 'chosen' by the Snap. That Laura lost her entire family, and her coping mechanism was to take up her husband's bow and train obsessively with Romanoff in the hopes that one day she would be able to make a difference," he said, and added quietly, "Unfortunately, she couldn't."

"That's...," I began, and stopped. Once again, I felt like I should be feeling something more than vague regret, but it just wasn't there, "That's terrible."

"She tried her hardest, but…" Strange shrugged, "Look, my point is that it would be unwise for me to use her actions to pass judgement on you. She might have been you at one point, but by the Battle of Earth she was a different woman, shaped by different experiences. Thera is no different."

"Okay, fine," I said, "But after you blackmailed Thera, he turned around and threatened you right back, using the same words you did - and you did what he wanted."

"I try to avoid unnecessary conflict," the sorcerer shrugged, "And his request wasn't actually unreasonable."

"That's not the point. The point is that you remembered him being at the Battle of Earth-"

"-but I have a photographic memory-"

"-yeah," said Clint, clearly cottoning onto my train of thought, "But you would've had to have seen him or his buddies. I was there, Strange; it was pretty crowded, and Thera ain't exactly built like Thor."

"Which means that he must've stood out some other way," I said, "And he seemed pretty damn confident that you would have seen that in a battle where there were actual, literal gods. That doesn't seem like the kind of thing you can just chalk to 'shaped by different experiences'."

"True," Strange was smiling openly now, "You have been thinking about this, haven't you."

"Like Clint said, this guy knows almost everything about us, while we don't know anything about him," I spread my hands, "You can see we've done our homework, so why not do what you actually came here to do and tell us what's going on?"

Strange paused, looked at me for just a moment, and then suddenly burst out laughing.

"My goodness," he said, "I'm starting to wonder if the person who wrote your S.H.I.E.L.D dossier had something against you."

"Really?" I said, and gave Clint a sharp look, "What does it say?"

"How would I know?" he said quickly, "I ain't read it!"

"You haven't read my file? You weren't even slightly curious?"

"I ain't exactly the file readin' type," he retorted, "And why would I need your file? I know you better than anyone!"

"Suffice it to say, it isn't...entirely complimentary," said Strange, "I'm glad to see they were at least partially mistaken, though."

"So you'll tell us what you know?"

"Fine," the sorcerer stood up, "You may recall that I gave an interview shortly after the Blip. I wanted people to understand exactly how lucky we were, so they could understand the choices that I made. I described a number of potential outcomes, including, of course, our defeat at the hands of Thanos, a failure to reassemble the Infinity Stones, and...the destruction of the Earth. The spectacular destruction of the Earth."

"I remember Lila talking about that once," I said, and gave Clint a quick nudge, "Over breakfast, remember?"

"Lila says a lot of things, babe," he said, "I can't keep up with half of what's going through her head."

"A matter on which I remain blissfully unaware," said Strange, in a slightly impatient tone, "The reason Thera or his accomplices appearance was 'never a good sign' was because if he, or his sister were present at the Battle of Earth, it would always end with the planet being destroyed."

"You sure about that?"

"After half a million iterations, one begins to notice a pattern. I originally thought it was a form of triage, if you will; destroy the planet to save the universe? But then there was a timeline where they both died, and then when Thanos snapped his fingers-" Strange opened his hands in an explosive gesture, "-it was the same result. It was their physical presence that caused the destruction, and I've yet to work out how or why."

"Yeah, that'd probably make me wary as well," agreed Clint, "You really reckon he's going to blow up the planet?"

"No," said Strange, "But I'm sure you can understand my concern. When I was investigating that magical disturbance, I didn't expect to encounter a harbinger of our destruction. Until I know how, or why he's here, we need to be on our guard."

"Okay, so...that's pretty crazy," I said, and Clint nodded in agreement, "But compared to blowing up the planet, volunteering at that mess of a Blip Centre seems like pretty small potatoes. Why does that concern you?"

"Because he's a driven, determined individual who genuinely believes that what he's doing is right," said Strange firmly, "History is littered with examples of people like him, and most of the time their stories end in disaster."

"You think he's going to cause a disaster? By doing what he thinks is right?"

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, is it not?" said the doctor, "Thanos may be dead, but the Avengers are badly weakened and who knows what horror lies around the next corner? People will be looking to someone to replace the likes of Stark and Rogers. If word gets out that there's a de facto leader of a Blip Centre who possesses miraculous healing capabilities, he will attract a following. With the right person, an idea can spread like a virus..."

Strange's voice seemed to fade away, and in that moment my mind felt like it was working faster than it had in quite some time. We'd been wrong about Thera's 'Phoenix', of that I was sure. He and Vi were prickly, condescending, and even downright insulting, but the person I saw at the Blip Centre simply wasn't capable of unleashing a bioweapon. Whatever they were up to, it didn't involve mass killings...but spreading an idea, or an ideal? I could see that. Thera had pretty firmly held views and no objection to voicing them, but he didn't really strike me as the kind of person who'd be comfortable with getting out there and spreading the word. He needed someone else, this 'Patient Zero'...

"Hon?" Clint's voice intruded on my reverie, "Babe, you there?"

"Yeah," I said, and shook myself back to reality, "Clint, when Thera was talking about viral spread in that book of his, he didn't mean a bioweapon! He meant like those videos Coop and Lila watch!"

"You mean he wants to be a cat playing the piano?"

"Yes! No!" I tried again, "He's got an idea. I'm pretty sure he's told us his idea, actually, and he's trying to spread it somehow!"

"I...um," Clint looked over at Strange, "What d'ya reckon?"

"I 'reckon' that this is the first I'm hearing of a viral attack," said the doctor, a little pointedly, "But it is a possibility. We know that he at least follows some religion; proselytising is certainly not outside the realms of possibility, particularly at a Blip Centre. I'll find out what he's been saying to the residents. If this is the case, then my concerns are well founded."

"What?" said Clint, "We've gone from Thera 'blowin' up the planet' to 'releasing a bioweapon' to being one of those guys who stands around shoutin' 'The End is Nigh'. Why is that a problem?"

"Because if I am correct, he will inevitably come into conflict with other factions also seeking to profit from the Blip, if he has not done so already," said Strange, "And I have seen…'enough' to know that any potential escalation would only end badly."

"How badly?"

"Would you like to see Missouri in flames?"

"Oh, come on! That's ridiculous."

"Mark my words, Clint," Strange said, quite seriously, "Even if he means well, Thera is a spark in a world made of kindling. I am trying to keep him under control, but failing that he must be removed from play as fast as possible."

The implicit threat hung in the air, and I felt butterflies settle in my stomach.

"Um, he did say that he was going home as soon as his contract was completed," I said, and tried to keep the urgent tone out of my voice, "Maybe that's a solution? It would be better than resorting to violence, right?"

"A contract, you say? Do you know its details?" said Strange. His expression seemed cautiously hopeful, and a frown developed when I shook my head, "Damn. I would prefer to avoid violence if possible. If we could also find out where this home of his is that might help us put pressure on him to leave peacefully. There are various locating spells that could be of use...but they generally require a sample. An article of clothing, or something that he's handled recently."

"Really? We can help you there, then," I said, and pulled out Thera's painkillers, "He gave me these yesterday after our fight with Caleb."

"May I?" Strange asked, and I handed him the pack. He gave them a long, careful look, and then popped one of the last pills out of its blister pack, "Hmm...did they work?"

"Like nothing I've ever tried. I was basically paralysed until I took these, and then I felt amazing."

"So you went from being almost 'paralysed' with pain to playing archery tag with your daughter?" said the sorcerer, "Or at least being a moving target."

"Yeah," I said, a little sourly, "What about it?"

"That's quite an impressive result...for a regular NSAID," he said, and turned the blister pack over to reveal a faintly stamped out name on the plastic, "This brand is rare, but I recognise it. These should just be simple painkillers."

"There's nothing simple about those!" I said, and added, "I thought he'd done something funny with them."

"I suspect they are 'enhanced', yes," said Strange, and gave the pill another look, "Very interesting...these would certainly do the job, if you don't mind parting with them."

"I'll be fine," I said, and gave my husband an arch look, "Clint owes me a massage, anyway."

"Perfect," he said, and both the pill and packet vanished into a pocket, "This talk has been far more...fruitful than I thought, but now I really must depart. If you find out anything more about that contract, I'd be very grateful. Please, don't get up-" he gestured quickly as I went to rise, "-I can see myself out."

"See you later, Stephen," Clint said, and gave him a brief wave. Strange acknowledged the wave with a nod and left the room. From the hallway there came the sounds of rustling and a steady mutter that was just too quiet to make out, followed by the sound of the front door clicking shut.

"Those were some terrible socks," my husband remarked, in the following silence, "You okay, hon? That was a lot to take in."

"Yeah, no kidding," I said, "Would you like to take a walk? I feel like I need to go for a walk."

The day was glorious. It was warm, but not too warm, and a gentle breeze fluttered through the overgrown cornfields as Clint and I walked hand in hand across the grass and down one of the many paths leading into the forest. As we walked through the ferny undergrowth, the bright noonday sun faded to a dappled light which cast the world in a soothing, golden aura, and overhead birds sang as they fluttered from branch to branch. Five years hadn't changed this place; it was peaceful, timeless, and quiet. Right now, I felt very much like I needed some quiet in my life.

After a short walk, we reached the mossy bank of the wide, babbling brook, and stared in silence as it flowed endlessly over its smooth stone bed. On a whim I kicked off my boots, rolled up my jeans and, ignoring Clint's quizzical look, stepped gingerly into the stream. The water was shockingly cold, but strangely therapeutic at the same time, and I closed my eyes and allowed my troubles to fall away. There was the slightest ripple in the water as my husband joined me, and together we stood in that single, tranquil moment, isolated from the world and all its troubles.

Eventually, the freezing water drove us out of the stream, and so we grabbed our things and walked slowly along the meandering bank, following the stream to its inevitable destination..

"Hey," I said quietly, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness of the forest, "D'ya remember when we used to float boats down here with Lila and Coop?"

"We did that a couple weeks ago," Clint said, "Just after you came back."

"No, I mean for real. Not as some kind of post-Blip...madness," I said, and leaned against him with a sigh, "I can't quite believe it. It seems just yesterday that Coop was starting elementary, and in a couple years he'll be off to college. We turn around twice, and Lila'll be gone too..."

"There's still Nate," he said reassuringly, "He won't be goin' anywhere for awhile."

"Yeah," I said, "Yeah…"

"What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing," I said, but my smile was wistful, "I'm just...wishing I could have some of those moments back again. They were good times, weren't they?"

"All of them," Clint said, "Even the ones that didn't seem so good."

"Hah," I snorted, "Like when Coop broke his ankle?"

"Yeah," he said, "Or Lila's fourth birthday party."

"I thought we agreed that she never had a fourth birthday party."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry."

We both laughed, ruefully, and then fell silent. For a long time there was nothing but the sound of the gentle washing of the stream and the wind fluttering through the ferns. Up ahead I could hear the sounds of rushing water, and the stream began to swirl and foam as it raced towards its final destination. It hurtled around one final corner, and then suddenly dropped out of sight as it plunged into a wide, secluded lake. Mist rose from the waterfall, and where it caught the sunlight a rainbow formed, casting bright, brilliant colours across the forest.

"Haven't been here in a while," I murmured.

This lake wasn't technically ours, but it was so far removed from civilisation that it may as well have been. It had a surface like silvered glass, broken only by the waterfall and the odd, curious fish. Towards one end there was a thicket of reeds, in which somewhere was Coop's long-lost RC boat, and the half-rotten carcass of a raft sat heavily in the water, the victim of exposure and neglect. It was a strange place, filled with memories of summers long past, and as I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me I fancied that I could still hear the children's squeals and laughter echoing amongst the trees.

"Why did I stop coming down here, again?" I said, half to myself and half to Clint, "It's so beautiful."

Clint made a funny noise in his throat, and when I turned I saw him gazing at the raft with tears standing openly in his eyes.

"Hey, hon - you okay?"

"I'd forgotten about the raft," he said, in a suddenly thick voice, "The kids...we... were building it as a surprise for you. We were gonna take it out the day after...the day after you all…"

I took his hand and held it, tightly. Somewhere deep inside I felt that now-familiar stab of anger, but it was now tempered by something else. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but I was pretty sure that it had been hiding behind the rage all along. I just hadn't been thinking clearly enough to see it.

"Oh," I said, and felt my throat seize up, "Clint. That's...that's…I'm so sorry. I didn't know-"

"You couldn't have done," he said curtly, "It's always gonna be the little things, right? They ain't never going to go away."

He sat down on the lip of the waterfall and stared off into the mist. I joined him, and put a comforting arm around his back. It was taut with stress.

"Maybe not, but it gets easier," I said, "We both know that. I'll be there for you, and so'll the kids. If you ever need to step outside or go cry or...punch a pillow, I'm sure they'll understand. We all love you, you know. So much."

"I know," he said, and I could feel the tension start to drain from his muscles.

"And maybe when you're feeling up to it, we can drag that old raft out of the water and build a bigger one. A better one; with cannons or something - and we'll do it together, as a family."

"That'd be nice," a slight smile crept to the surface, "We could even have a barbeque down here."

"Yeah," I said, and rested my head on his shoulder, "We'll take back everything that Thanos took from us, and we'll make it better. The best revenge is living well, y'know."

"I thought the best revenge was making him watch his dreams go up in ash," said Clint, "But you're right. How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?"

"Practice. Years and years of practice," I said, a little wryly, "Anyway...what say we take your mind off things, hey? I came down here to relax for a bit before the kids come back. You know, like old times."

"Oh, yeah?" said Clint, "What do you want to do?"
"Well…" I considered it, "We've come all the way to the lake; we could go for a swim…"

"Haven't done that since Coop came along."

"I think that's why Coop came along."

"It'll be freezing!"

"I don't remember that stopping us before," I said, and gave him a playful look, "Don't tell me you're getting soft in your old age."

"Really?" he blinked, "You're going there? That's low."

"Prove me wrong, then. You used to be, ah, up for almost anything."

"I still am!" he said, and then gave me a faintly worried look, "We're, um, we're on the same page here, right? I don't wanna misread the subtext or anythin'."

"Are you serious?" I said, and laughed incredulously, "Would you like me to send up a flare? You'd better get stripping, Hawkeye. I'll...see you in the water."

"T-t-that was a t-t-terrible idea," I chattered, some time later. I was sitting in the living room with a blanket draped across my shoulders, and despite the heat outside I was shivering uncontrollably. The lake had been very, very cold. "Who's i-idea was that again?"

There was a clink on the table in front of me, and I looked up to see a steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream.

"Yours," said Clint, simply. Irritatingly, he didn't seem to have been affected at all.

"You should've s-said something!" I said sharply, but gratefully picked up the mug. The warmth percolated through my hands, and I felt my extremities slowly return to life.

"I did say something!" he said, "I said 'it'll be freezing!' but then you gave me that smouldering look and I, um, stopped thinking."

"With your head, you mean."

"That's rich coming from you, babe," he said, "The way you were acting, I'm surprised the lake didn't boil over."

I stuck my tongue out, "Is it me, or was that lake warmer back before we had Coop?"

"You ain't twenty anymore, Laura," he said, "Or thirty, even."

"So you're saying that I'm an old woman? Is that it?"

"You're the one wrapped up in a blanket, drinkin' hot chocolate to keep warm at three in the afternoon when it's gotta be pushing eighty outside," he shrugged, "It's hard to argue with the evidence."

"Screw you, Barton."
"What, again?" he said, and chuckled, "Sure, but you might just shatter."

My opinion of that was mercifully drowned out by the sound of the front door opening and then slamming shut as a tornado shot into the house, followed shortly by her big brother.

"Hi Mom! Hi Dad!" Lila said, and then she hurtled upstairs to drop her school bags, "Talk to you later!"

Coop, meanwhile, came slouching into the living room to say hi. He stopped when he saw me, and his expression became a mix of incredulity and concern, "Mom, what happened to-"
"It's not what you think," I said quickly, and held up a trembling hand, "Your Dad and I just went swimming in that lake."

"In the lake?" he said, and then his face split open into a wide grin, "Mom, it's freezing this time of year!"

"I told her that," said Clint, a little smugly, "I reckon she's learned her lesson now, though."

"What I've actually learned, Coop, is that you might owe your entire existence to a period of unseasonable warmth," I said sourly, "Did you have a good day at school?"

"S'okay," he said, and shrugged in his noncommittal way, "I was gonna go out cycling with my friends, if that's okay."

"With Maria?" I raised an eyebrow.

"And others!" he said, "It's not a date!"

"Of course not," I said, "Got any homework?"

"Did it yesterday," he said, and smiled bashfully, "I... had a lot of time on my hands."

"Good stuff," said Clint, "You've gotta keep on top of it. There's a lot of catching up to do."

"No kidding, Dad," said Coop, "Did you guys do anything interesting today?"

I exchanged a sly look with my husband, "Oh, nothing much. I read some of that stuff you gave me, watched some terrible daytime TV, had a visit from Doctor Strange, and went swimming in the lake. Usual stuff, really."

"You met Doctor Strange?" Coop blinked, "Again?"

"Oh, did I mention that?" I said idly, and buffed my fingers on my top, "Yeah, it seems like he was actually after me, this time. Very odd."

"It was about Thera and Vi, wasn't it."

"What makes you think he wouldn't be interested in us?" I said tartly, but then added, "You know what? Don't answer that."

"I'm gonna go drop my bag - but you gotta tell me more about this, Mom!" he said excitedly, apparently oblivious to my comment, "Doctor Strange? In our house? Man, that's so cool!"

"You see? You do have cool parents."

"Um…" Coop looked uncertain for a moment, "But I was right, wasn't I? I told you that they couldn't be any weirder if they tried! I'll be right back!"

Coop dashed from the room and followed his sister upstairs. Clint and I stared at each other, somewhat shamefacedly, as the penny finally dropped.

"Well, now I just feel stupid," he said, eventually.

"I knew he'd said something important this morning!" I said, "Sorry. I got distracted."

"Nah, it all kinda makes sense, doesn't it," he exhaled, "The mysterious texts, the strange location...Thera's damn beanie hat and those weird contact lenses? Hell, even that conversation when we tapped their line! How did we pick it up when I tapped the wrong phone?"

"Because he moved- ooh," I nodded in agreement, "Yeah, that does seem kind of odd. Didn't he say that the other phone was already tapped, though?"

"If he knew the phone was tapped, how can you trust anything that they said?" Clint pointed out, "They've been reelin' us in the entire time! I was just so damn eager to wipe that smug smile off his face that I didn't stop to- oh, goddamnit!"

"Makes you want to kick yourself, doesn't it."

"Myself, maybe, but you were right on the money," he said, "You've been saying all along that Thera was putting on an act. It's classic misdirection. Classic."

"Yeah, but why would they do that? Why would they want to make themselves look suspicious?"

"Like I said; it's misdirection," he said, "They keep us lookin' in one direction while they go and do something right under our noses. Maybe they didn't want an Avenger poking their nose into their 'Phoenix' thing."

"Or maybe they did," I breathed, "Think about it. They get us interested in them by acting suspicious, really suspicious. We go for a couple of 'therapy' sessions with Thera while they gauge us, and then he asks me about if I'd be willing to help them-"

"-but you said 'no'-"

"-after which we find that note about Bulgakov on the back of a note that's intended to annoy you-"

"-so I don't think too much about it-"

"-and we follow it to that mess of a Blip Centre."

"Okay," he said, "But why? To witness Bulgakov bein' tortured?"

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't meant to happen. I'm also pretty sure they didn't want Strange breathing down their necks. Vi definitely didn't. When I suggested we try and get in contact with him, she shut me down."

"But they had to have had a motive!"

"Well-"

There was the sound of a stampede from upstairs, and a moment later Lila burst into the room, followed almost immediately by Coop.

"Mom! Mom!" she said, "Coop said that Doctor Strange came to the house! Is it true? Is it?"

"Whoa! Slow down!" Clint said sharply, "One of these days you're gonna break your neck!"

"Sorry, Daddy," she said contritely, "But is it true? What was he like? Does he oil his beard? Is he as smart as they said? What did he say?"

"I-"

"Did he invite you to wizard school like in Harry Potter? Does he have an owl? I bet he has an owl. How did he get here? Did he fly? Can he fly? Does he have a broomstick?"

There was a loud beep from Clint's watch.

"Oh, would you look at that?" he said, and gave me a totally unapologetic grin, "It's time for me to go and get Nate. I'm sure your Mom will be able to tell you all about Doctor Strange."

"Hold on a second-mmf!" my protestations were muffled as he stepped forward and kissed me goodbye. He quickly danced out of reach before I could grab him, and with one last, roguish smile he was out of sight.

"So Mom..." Coop sat down on the sofa next to me, an intent look in his eyes, "What actually happened?"

For the next thirty minutes I did my level best to field the barrage of questions from my children. While I was happy enough to tell them about what Strange was like or what he was wearing, I wasn't about to tell them what he said. As recently-resurrected teens hurled five years into the future, they had enough to deal with already; I wasn't about to heap Bulgakov, Thera, or even 'Avenger Laura' on top of that. While Lila seemed to be happy with this arrangement (at least, to the point that she decided that Strange would probably end up in Ravenclaw) Coop was far less satisfied.

"Aw, Mom!" he said, for the umpteenth time, "This isn't fair!"

"No, Coop!" I replied, firmly, "What Doctor Strange said to us, he said privately! You want to get me turned into a frog?"

"I...don't think he can do that, Mom," he said, "But-"

"No," I said again, and followed it up this time with a Mom Look, "And if you want to be able to go out with Maria and all those other kids who I'm sure definitely exist, you'll drop it."

"I-but...you-" he spluttered, and his cheeks went slightly red, "They do exist!"

I laughed sardonically and patted him gently on the hand, "It's okay, kiddo. I was your age once. Just be glad you don't have to sneak out like I did."

"You snuck out?"

"All the time," I said, "I could be down that fire escape and up the alleyway before Mom could jimmy the lock to my room. You should be grateful that you have such understanding parents…"

"I s'pose."

"...that can track your every move with high resolution satellites, so be good!" I said, and gave him a bright smile, "Isn't it fun being the son of an Avenger?"

From outside, there came the familiar sound of car tyres on gravel. Shortly thereafter the front door clicked open and Nate came running into the front room on his little legs, yelling 'Mommy! Mommy!' as he did.

"Heya, champ!" I said, and let him scramble up onto my lap, "D'ya have a good day at school?"

"I threw up, Mommy!"

"Oh dear. Did the teachers change you?"

"No Mommy! I threw up on Sadie!"

"He's fine," said Clint, entering the room, "They reckon he just had a nervous stomach or something."

"Oh, dear," I said, and gave my husband a wry smile. He returned the smile easily enough, but from the tightness around his eyes I could tell something had happened, "Did they change Sadie?"

"I'm...going to go get ready to go out," Coop stood up and ruffled Nate's hair, "Cya later, bro."

"Bye bye!" Nate said happily. His gaze fell on his train set, and he suddenly began to wriggle in my arms.

"You wanna play with your trains, Nate?" I said, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Off you go, then!"

I set Nate down and he toddled off to play in his corner. Once our son was fully ensconced with his toys, I stood up and walked over to Clint.

"What happened?" I asked quietly, keeping one eye on Nate.

"It's gotten worse, Laura," he said anxiously, "The school gate. You can really feel the tension there. If it's like that inside the school, I ain't surprised Nate threw up."

"Why?" I said, "What's Val done?"

"It ain't just Val, although I don't reckon she's helpin' anything. " he said, "When I was waitin' for them to let out I heard a bunch of people talkin' about themselves as the 'Lost', like what Keame was sayin'. Then there were those who weren't Snapped, who're mutterin' about how all the Lost are coming after their jobs and stuff. Everyone was either in one camp or the other."

"That's insane! Why are people taking sides?"

"'Cause taking sides is what humans do," said Clint, "But that there's a powder keg. All it's gonna take is one person sayin' something stupid, and they'll be at each other's throats before you know it."

"That's not good."

"No, it really ain't," he said, "And you can bet that it's happenin' up and down the country. Probably across the world."

"Unbelievable. You've given us a one-in-fourteen-million chance to make things right, and this is how we use it?" I shook my head, "Nuh-uh. I'm not standing for this."

Clint looked at me, a ghost of a smile dancing on his face, "You aren't?"

"No!" I said, probably more firmly than I intended, "This isn't right, Clint. I -we- have to do something!"

"'Something'? Like what?"

"I...I don't know yet!" I balled my hands into fists, "I just can't accept that people're prepared to tear themselves apart over this! We're all victims, Lost or not!"

"I thought you wanted to help the people at the Blip Centre."

"This is helping the people at the Blip Centre!"

"How?"

"By...um…" I stopped, and flopped down on the sofa, "Yeah, you're right."

"Look, hon," Clint sat down next to me and took my hand in his, "You've spent half your life cheering and supportin' me while I went and did one crazy thing after another. If you wanna go help people, that's great; I'm with you just like you were with me - but you gotta help 'em in the right way. If you flail around tryin' to help every cause, you're gonna end up like Thera."

I blinked, "You really think I'd end up like him?"

"I reckon you two're more alike than you think," he said, with a smile, "You're both fixers, for a start, an' when you get started you don't know when to stop."

"I'm not a fixer!"

"Oh, yeah?" he inclined his head, "Who bundled Coop into the car and dragged him across town 'cause he got in a fight?"

"Well-"

"Who stayed up all night fixing Lila's school project?"

"I-"

"An' who agreed to marry a half-broke S.H.I.E.L.D archer who was only gettin' by thanks to his good looks and winning personality?"

"Well, that definitely wasn't me," I said, "You're telling me S.H.I.E.L.D. had two archers?"

"C'mon, you were attracted to me at least partly 'cause you thought I was a lost cause!"

"You are a lost cause," I said, and then added affectionately, "But you're my lost cause."

"The thing about lost causes, though, is that they can turn up damn near everywhere," he said, "If you try and 'fix' the Blip Centre, the chances are that you're gonna turn up another thirty causes. What're you gonna do then? Fix those?"

"Well…um..."

"Exactly," he said, and squeezed my hand, "When we were runnin' ops in S.H.I.E.L.D, we always used to ask ourselves four things. 'What are we doing?', 'Why are we doing this?, 'How long will it take?', and 'What does victory look like?'. We kinda know what you're doing - so why are you doing this?"

"I want to help people!"

"Thera wants to help people, Laura," he said, "But it's so knotted up in whatever issues he's got that he probably couldn't tell you why."

"So you're saying I've got issues, now?" I said sharply.

"No!" he said quickly, "But...you put other people's happiness before your own. You've always done that. I just don't want you to end up sacrificin' yourself chasing some impossible dream, okay?"

"That seems fair," I said.

"An' you don't have to tell me why you want to do it right now," he said, "Just...think about it, okay?"

There was a subtle, telltale creak on the stairs, and both Clint and I turned to look.

"You guys may as well come out," I said, "I think we're done here. We're done here, right?"

"Yeah," said Clint, "C'mon, guys. You know what I said about eavesdropping."

As it turned out it was just Coop, who came slowly down the stairs wearing a black and blue cycle helmet.

"Sorry, Dad," he said, contritely, "I was just coming down when you started talking, and I didn't want to interrupt, but...I couldn't just go back upstairs 'cause then you'd think I was listening in…"

"So you decided to listen to the entire thing?"

"What else could I do? I was kinda stuck! Besides-" he said, "-you can't talk about eavesdropping when you've been spending the past month spying on Thera!"

Clint gave me a quick look, "You told him about that?"

"I...may have mentioned it," I said, "It was an emotional moment!"

"And she says you're gonna spy on me as well!" Coop went on, "That's not fair!"

"You said that?" Clint said, and laughed, "That's a great idea, actually. Can't believe I didn't think of that myself!"

"Dad!"

"She's just teasing you, Coop," he said, "Besides, it'd be just like when your Mom and I were first goin' out. Fury set an entire team on her...for 'security' reasons."

"He did?" I said, "You never said anything!"

"I didn't want to scare you off!" he said, "I'm telling you though, it was like something out of a sitcom. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to be suave and romantic when Fury's sitting at the next table over, burnin' eye-holes in the back of your head?"

"I know exactly how hard it is for you to be suave and romantic, thank you very much," I raised an eyebrow, "Still, that explains a lot. Like why we always got the best seats, and why that waitress kept turning up at different restaurants. I thought she was just hard working!"

"The worst bit was the dating tips," he said, and shuddered, "It was my end-of-term report card all over again. I think he was trying to help...y'know, in his own way."

"And so you see, Coop?" I said, "The way to Maria's heart is clearly through having your loving parents carry out continuous high-tech surveillance of her and her loved ones. What more can we do?"

"Um, leave me alone?" he suggested, "I'll do just fine on my own!"

"I'm sure you will," I said, and rapped my knuckles gently on his helmet, "You go have fun with Maria and all those unnamed bystanders. I promise we won't stalk you."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, and went to put on his boots.

"But be back before dinner, 'kay?" I said, "No funny business! Otherwise I really will start warming up the satellites!"

"Oh, c'mon-"

"-and the popcorn."