Chapter 15: There Will Be Consequences

It wasn't exactly a long drive from Maisie's house to the warehouse, but it was long enough for the doubt to start to set in. Unlike our last car this one glided almost silently down the interstate, with only the distant rumble of tyres on tarmac to keep me company. In the almost deafening silence, I played pensively with the radio but eventually gave up; I wasn't in the mood for late night rock-and-roll, and I couldn't even work out what Clint's other favourites were meant to be.

"Heavy metal?" said the little voice, "You used to love heavy metal."

"No."

"Classical? How about a nice bit of Bach?"

"A harpsichord concerto? I'll pass."

"You could call Clint. You're gonna need to call him anyway before he freaks out again and cooks everything in the house."

I paused. The idea did have a certain promise…

"Have you forgotten the incident with the steaks?"

"They weren't that bad!" I protested, "I like my steaks both blue and well done!"

"Yeah, but not at the same time."

"...point," I conceded, and raised my voice, "Okay, fine! I'll call him. He's just...not going to be happy about this."

"Getting cold feet?"

"No," I said firmly, "I've gotta do this."

"Good."

"Glad to hear you agree," I muttered, and raised my voice, "Car? Call Clint."

There was a soft 'beep' from the speakers, and then the ringing of the phone filled the cabin. As I waited for my husband to pick up I felt a sense of anxiety settle deep in the pit of my stomach. What was I going to tell him? Why hadn't I rehearsed what I was going to say in advance? Was he going to be reasonable about this? I knew full well how bull-headed he could be at times, and Vi had managed to cut him to the quick with only a couple of words-

The phone 'clicked' as Clint answered, "Hi hon. What's up?"

"Oh...nothing much," I said, with rather forced casualness, "Just dropped Maisie off."

"Great," he said, "How was it for you? You okay?"

"Yeah, I suppose," I said, and sighed, "I mean, I'm glad she's okay, but...it's bittersweet, I guess."

"Flavour of the month."

"Hah," I snorted, "How's Lila?"

"Quiet," he said, "She ain't said much since Maisie left. I think she might be startin' to realise what being Blipped really means for her."

"Poor girl."

"She'll bounce back before you know it. Lila's tough, hon," he said, reassuringly, "'Takes after her mom."

"I hope so," I said, and then another thought occurred, "Um, about Coop…"

"You saw that too?" Clint laughed, "Reckon he's gonna want to take up boxing?"

"Over my dead body!" I said sharply, and my husband laughed again.

"Yeah, I'll talk to him. How's Maisie's new family? Did you meet them?"

"No, but I saw her house," I said, "It's enormous. Apparently her dad's an architect."

"Traded up during the Blip, huh?" he asked, in a rather wry tone, "Good for her. I remember what you used to say about her mom."

"Yeah. She was terrible."

"So...when're you coming back? I was going to start putting Nate to bed."

"I...um," I paused, "Clint, are you alone?"

"Yeah, but hold on…" there was a soft click of a door being closed, "Right, door's closed. What's the matter, Laura?"

"Well..." I said, "Look, Maisie told me something. Something bad."

"What?" he said intently, "Is it about her new folks? They ain't hurtin' her, are they?"

"No, no! It's about her brother. They... haven't been about to find him."

"That's...yeah, that's bad," he said, "But they've got loads of cases to work through. Remember what Thera said? I helped dump one hundred fifty million warm bodies on the US government without any warning. It's gonna take time for them to get it all sorted out."

"It's more than that, Clint," I said, "They've been getting suspicious phone calls, and both her Mom and Dad have been going places at night. She doesn't know where."

"Well, that's suspicious," he agreed, "You reckon someone's taking advantage of them?"

"I...I really want to be wrong about this," I said, "But it feels like Bulgakov all over again."

"Hold on, hon-"

"It fits, Clint!" I said firmly, "Think about what we heard on Caleb's phone and Sophia! They were threatening her with Bulgakov's life if she didn't hand over that…#273 or whatever it was."

"She said she told them everything she could…" Clint mused, "You're worried they're doing the same here?"

"I'm worried a kid's life might be in danger," I said, "We need to do something."

"Whoa - hold on, Laura," Clint said quickly, "We agreed that we'd step back. We can talk to Fury, and Dr. Strange-"

"Neither of them know the Blip Centres!" I said, "Alvin got Snapped when he was in south Missouri. If we're lucky, then he got picked up and sent to the one just down the road, but…"

"You need to find out what kids are in that Blip Centre."

"Exactly," I braced myself, "And we know that Keame has people on the inside, so…um…I'm going to see Thera and Vi."

"Thera and Vi," he said, in a strangely calm tone.

"Yes," I said. I knew that tone, and it wasn't a good sign, "It's the most logical thing to do-"

"No, Laura," he said, "I reckon that the most logical thing to do is for you to come back home so's we can talk this over! We're agreed that we weren't going to be talkin' to them anymore!"

"That was before I learned about Alvin-"

"An' that ain't the point, Laura!"

"Isn't it? Then what is?"

"We're meant to be a team! We're meant to discuss things! Instead you're rushing off at the drop of a damn hat to beg for help from the woman who stood there and insulted me- us!"

"Ah. Is this what this is really about? Your wounded pride? I was there, Clint - I know what she said!"

"So why are you crawling back there?"

"I'm not crawling! I'm asking for help, because there is a missing child who might be in the hands of some very bad people who we know are happy to torture and kill people! If you have a better plan, one that doesn't involve them, then I'd love to hear it!"

There was a long, dangerous silence, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel as I waited for the inevitable retort.

"Fine," he said eventually, "I can see I ain't gonna stop you from goin' to see them, and you know I ain't the kind of guy who'd stand by if a kid's in danger. Is there...anything I can do to help?"

"Put the kids to bed?" I said, and allowed myself a relieved smile, "And if you get a chance, can you look up 'Gordon Bennett'? He's Maisie's dad."

"Gordon Bennett? Got it. I'll text you anything I find out."

"Thanks, hon. I mean it."

"Don't thank me just yet," he said, and added ominously, "When you get home, we're gonna have a talk about this."

"I, um…" my smile froze, "I understand, hon. I'm sor-"

The car beeped harshly, and when I glanced at the dashboard I saw that Clint had hung up.

"Well, that went about as well as could be expected," I muttered to myself.

"You should have told him the truth," said my inner voice.

"I did tell him the truth!"

"I mean the other truth."

"I...I will," I said, and looked on grimly as the hulking form of the warehouse came into view on the horizon, "Later."

I had been half-hoping, half-expecting that the warehouse would light up at my approach, or give me some sign of life, but there was nothing. The building stood in the shadows, dark and desolate, and I felt a distinct chill settle into my bones as I nosed the car as close as I could to the small side entrance.

"Well, so far, so good," I muttered, as I killed the engine, "She hasn't blown my head off yet."

"Maybe she's savouring the moment."

"Quiet, you," I said, but even I could hear the tremolo in my voice. With an effort, I forced the anxiety deep down and reached for the glove compartment to dig out the flashlight. Not only was it pitch black outside, but if I was going in there then I wanted to make it very clear to Vi who I was and where I was. She probably already had me in her sights, and I had absolutely no intention of giving her a reason to think that I was someone dangerous.

The flashlight came to life with a 'click', momentarily blinding me with its brilliance. Blinking the spots away from my eyes, I slowly, carefully opened the door and stepped out onto the parking lot. It was a perfect Missouri night, warm and still, and I could hear the chirp of crickets in the nearby fields. There was no moon, but the Milky Way stretched from horizon to horizon, lighting up the sky with thousands of gently glimmering stars. In a previous life, this would have been an evening perfect for cider on the porch with Clint, watching peacefully as fireflies danced through the darkened fields…

"...but instead you're here alone, hunting a trained killer in an empty warehouse with only a flashlight to defend yourself," my inner voice finished the thought, rather unhelpfully, "How times change."

"There'll be other evenings," I said firmly, and picked out the side door with my flashlight, "You know this can't wait."

The slim white door swung inwards silently at my touch, revealing the gloomy warehouse beyond. While the starlight shining through the unfinished roof provided some illumination, all it really did was create a shimmering, shifting mass of shadows on the floor and walls. I looked up at the darkened gantries, far overhead, and my mind went to thoughts of bats and larger, darker creatures, waiting for their prey. The hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood up on end.

"Viola?" I called out quietly. My voice seemed to be swallowed up in the vast gloom, and so I coughed and tried again, louder this time, "Vi? It's me. It's Laura. I...need your help."

Slowly, with large, obvious movements, I stepped into the warehouse and closed the door behind me. The click echoed loudly and I jumped, dropping my flashlight in the process.

"Damnit, Laura!" I muttered, as I stooped to pick it up again, "Get it together!"

I slowly crept across the warehouse, shining my flashlight this way and that, looking for any signs of movement. The atmosphere felt strangely tense despite the stillness, and I could feel my anxiety rising with every creak and groan of the dilapidated building. Were they even still here? Maybe she'd moved Thera to another location after we'd dropped him off. It would definitely make sense; considering how we ended things, she might've been worried we'd go running to Strange out of spite...

No. None of that rang true to me. Viola clearly held the Avengers in contempt, and I was pretty sure that she had enough bravado, earned or otherwise, to convince herself that she could take Doctor Strange head-on if he came looking. Besides, I was becoming increasingly sure that I was being watched. The prickling on the back of my neck was only getting worse, and I could almost feel the red, glinting eyes watching me from the shadows. Oh, sure, they weren't there when I swung the flashlight around, but all that meant was that they were fast. Fast, and hungry, and-

"Stop it!" I muttered to myself, "You're not a damn kid anymore! Get a grip an-holy shit!"

I jerked and leapt backwards as my light illuminated a trio of bright white figures that were far too close to comfort. They stayed perfectly still under the beam, and as I tried to get my beating heart under control I realised somewhat belatedly that they were a small group of store mannequins, standing in a rough triangle a meter or so apart.

"Goodness, Vi," I said, and laughed with relief. If nothing else, I needed to stop jumping at shadows, "Where do you find this stuff…?"

As I walked towards them, it struck me that they were posed in a strangely aggressive manner. One was bent forwards with its arms outstretched, as if it was reaching out to grab someone, while the other two had their arms up and appeared to be sighting down imaginary guns. Frowning, I took another step closer, but my foot caught something on the ground and sent it skittering into the shadows.

"What the-" I quickly shone the light at the noise and spotted a disembodied mannequin's hand. Slightly further away was a large collection of damaged body parts, lying in a pile of white dust and larger shards of shattered plastic. Some were cracked or even smashed to pieces, but others had been snapped clean in two. I knelt down, picked up one half of a damaged arm and looked carefully at the shiny, exposed plastic on the damaged end. Clearly, Vi had been using these as training dummies, but unless she'd been ripping off limbs and snapping them over her knee then I couldn't see how she'd managed to do this.

"How odd…" I muttered to myself, and carefully put the damaged parts back where I found them.

"What's odd?" a puzzled voice came from directly behind me, and I screamed and fell forward into the pile of limbs. My world became a tangled mess of dust and shards as I scrabbled for purchase amongst the rolling body parts, and then my hand found a particularly sturdy piece that made my panic-addled mind immediately think 'club!'. I rolled away, clutching it tightly to my chest, and as I staggered to my feet I felt questing fingertips brush against my top.

"Laura-"

"Stay back!" I shrieked, and swung my makeshift weapon blindly. It was struck from my hands with a bone-jolting parry which numbed my arms up to the elbow, and then in a single smooth motion my assailant got a firm grip and swept my legs out from under me. I landed surprisingly gently on my back, and a moment later my attacker had me pinned firmly to the floor.

"Seriously, Laura!" said the voice again, as I struggled futilely against the iron grip, "It's me! It's Vi! Stop wriggling!"

I paused, "V-Vi?"

"Yes! Look, if I let go do you promise not to try and brain me again? What were you thinking?"

"What do you mean, what was I thinking?" I snapped back, "What are you doing setting up creepy mannequins and skulking around in the dark?"

"I live here!" she pointed out, "And I was 'skulking around in the dark' because I'd just turned everything off to go to sleep!"

"And the mannequins?"

"...that's really none of your business," she said shortly, and released the pressure, "And what are you doing charging in here in the middle of the night, anyway?"

"I…" I slowly got to my feet and looked for my flashlight. It had rolled a short distance away, and was resting against a caved-in head, "I need your help."

"Do you, now? How very interesting," Vi said, in a chilly tone, "What was it you said again? Oh yes, 'I have a family! We have our own problems!'."

"How very grown up of you," I retorted, "Do you really think I'd be here if it wasn't important?"

"No, because it wasn't important you'd be able to handle it yourself."

"You-" I felt a stab of anger, but kept it under control, "You're totally unbelievable, do you realise that? I-"

Quite suddenly Vi was standing in front of me, and when she spoke her voice was a deadly, icy hiss, "I'm the unbelievable one, am I? You come barging in here in the dead of night with absolutely no warning, start prodding around my stuff, and then expect me to just suddenly leap into action because you 'need my help'-"

"Well-"

"-because when I asked you which sap you were going to pawn your problems off on after Thera, I thought it was pretty clear that I wasn't volunteering myself!"

"I'm not trying to pawn them off on you!" I protested, "I want to help, I just-"

"Now you want to help?" Vi said scornfully, "It's a bit late for a Damascene conversion, don't you think?"

"Yes! I mean no!" I shook my head, "Look, Vi; you were right. You were a total ass about it, but you were right. I have been letting other people do all the work, and I did shut myself away and try to pretend that it would sort itself out. The truth is I was scared to try, and I thought that if I didn't try I couldn't fail. I was wrong."

There was a long pause, and then she laughed bitterly.

"That's great, sweetie. Really, full marks for the speech, and I'm happy that you've decided to poke your head above the parapet," she said, "But I don't care anymore. I'm...I'm done."

"C'mon, Vi. I don't believe that!"

"Really? Based on what? We've shared one cup of coffee and an argument, and suddenly you think you what makes me tick?"

"Well, no, but-"

"I tried, Laura, I really did!" she cried, and I could hear the pain in her voice, "All I wanted was for someone to step up, even for five minutes, just so I could take some time to understand what was going on with Thera! Was anyone willing to help? Of course not! They all had their own problems, just like you!"

I grimaced but stayed silent. Clearly she needed to get this off her chest.

"Of course, when they needed help they couldn't beat a path to our door fast enough, and Thera…well," her tone became distinctly wistful, "You know Thera. He's never been able to turn away anyone who's needed help."

"I know," I said, "And I know I took advantage of him when I asked him to talk to Coop. I'm sorry - I wasn't thinking-"

"It wasn't your fault, Laura," she sat down heavily on the floor, as if all the energy had suddenly drained out of her, "And honestly, I love him for it, but…"

"He doesn't know when to stop?"

"I thought he did," she said dully, "But then, I thought I'd learned to control my temper. I guess neither of us have come as far as I'd hoped."

I thought hard about what to do next. If I was being honest with myself, I was still pretty angry at her for what she'd said about Clint. She had acted like a complete bitch, and it felt kind of unfair that I was now having to console her. Why should I? If she didn't want to help, I was just wasting my time! I could just turn on my heel, walk away, and probably even pick up some brownie points back home for basically telling her where to stick it.

But I couldn't. I knew I couldn't. Maybe it made me a doormat, but the thought of leaving her here in the dark, alone, left a very bad taste in my mouth. Clint might have a thing or two to say about this, but I knew that but right here and right now she needed someone, just like Maisie, Bulgakov, and even me had needed people before her.

"You're not being fair to yourself, Vi," I said, and sat down beside her, "Do you remember what you told me when we had that coffee?"

She smiled wanly, "Something about being turned into hot dog seasoning, right?"

"Well, yes, but you also told me to go easy on myself," I said, "And that being dead for five years isn't something that you can just walk off.."

"Not you, maybe," she snorted, "But I'm meant to be able to. I was trainedto hit the ground running no matter what-"

"And you're allowed to trip sometimes, Vi," I said soothingly, "You're only human, right?"
"I suppose."

"You do suppose," I said, echoing her words, "And you haven't screwed up, Vi. You and Thera have done loads. You turned that mess of a Blip Centre into something halfway functional, Thera saved Bulgakov, and…"

"And?" she looked up at me, and I was surprised to see tears shining in her eyes.

"Thanks to you guys I got to do things with Clint that I've never done before. In some ways, I feel like I've lived more in the past month than I did in the past decade! 'Cause of that, I was almost able to forget that Thanos killed me...until I was ready to admit it. You and Thera may have saved my marriage, and I'm pretty sure you saved my mind. I don't know how to thank you for that."

"All part of the service," she smiled wearily, "Laura, can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I...was never angry at you. Or Clint. You both did me a huge favour by bringing my idiot fiancee back home,and I'm really grateful for that. I know that I acted like some godsdamned spoilt bitch, but..."

"Now you're sounding like Clint."

"He's right though. I was out of control, and there's no excuse for what I said."

"So why did you say it?"

"I wasn't the only one telling people things they didn't want to hear. Look-" she shook her head, "You were right. I failed Thera. I mean, gods, I turn my back for one second and some maniac cuts out someone's eyes? He gets really squeamish about eyes!"

"Yeah...I got that," for a moment, I considered telling her about the visit from Doctor Strange... but decided against it. She looked like she'd had enough for one day.

"All I was thinking was 'I should have been there', 'I could have stopped this'. The guilt just kept building and building..." she went on, "When you turned up with him all that guilt turned to anger and it was just like fireworks going off in my head. I mean, I don't even really remember what I said; all I knew was that all that anger had to get out and you were the easiest target-" she held up a hand, "-and yeah, I know it's terrible. I was terrible, and I'm sorry for everything I said."

"Even about Clint?"

"Especially about Clint," she said, firmly, "I know that I've taken the piss out of him, but the guy goes to war in a leather jerkin alongside gods and people wearing next-generation battlesuits. He's got more guts than me, that's for sure. He's probably a better shot, too."

"Probably?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine! Twist my arm, why don't you," Viola grinned, and nudged a piece of plastic with her finger, "Can you tell him I'm sorry?"

"You can tell him yourself. You owe him that much."

"You're right; I do," she said, and yawned, "Gods…anyway, so what is this problem that's gotten you so het up?"

"Oh? I thought you were done."

"Don't push your luck, sweetie."

"Okay, okay! So, my daughter had this friend before the Blip…" I quickly filled her in on the events surrounding Lila and Maisie, before moving on to the threatening phone calls being made to her father and his subsequent night time excursions. Vi listened intently, her expression steadily becoming more concerned, and as soon as I finished with a somewhat lame '...then I came here!' she got immediately to her feet.

"So let me get this straight; you think there's a missing kid who's probably in the sights of the same people who tried to top Bulgakov?" she gave me a sharp look, "Goddess, Laura; why didn't you lead with that?"

"You didn't want to listen!"

Viola stopped for a second, and her lips quirked, "Fair point. Grab your flashlight; we're going to the office."

I followed Vi up the stairs to the little foreman's office where Thera had held our sessions. In the darkness the stairs seemed rather more dangerous than they had during the day, and I clutched tightly at the railing with one hand while pointing the flashlight directly at my feet. Vi, meanwhile, positively bounded up the stairs before vanishing into the office. A moment later there was a clatter, a 'click' and then bright white light shone through the office windows, dispelling the shadows and throwing the stairs into clear relief.

"Thanks!" I hurried up after her, but stopped at the doorway. The office had been changed around once again, and whatever purpose it now served it clearly wasn't therapeutic in nature. The sofa had been pushed right over to the far wall, alongside Thera's comfortable-looking chair, and the old wooden table had returned. It was absolutely covered with a mixture of reports, photos, and newspaper articles neatly organised into stacks and marked with coloured post-it notes. Some of them seem to have graduated to the walls, where yet more images and dramatic headlines were pinned in neatly ordered columns and rows. Even to my untrained eye I could tell there was a system in place with both the colour and number of pins used to hold a document in place, but both the method and the intention eluded me.

"Will you walk into my parlour?" asked Vi, with a mocking little smile, "It's the prettiest parlour that ever you did spy."

"You mean the craziest, right?" I said, "What are you doing in here?"

"Well, I've always wanted to have a room where I get to pin loads of things to a wall and then tie them together with string. After I die I kinda want someone to find it all webbed together leading to this sticky note that says 'What does it all mean?!'" she smiled slyly, "It won't mean anything."

"You really enjoy messing with people, don't you," I said, rather sourly.

"It passes the time," she shrugged, and began carefully leafing through one of her stacks, "Now I know I have a list of names around here somewhere. What was that kid called again?"

"Alvin," I said, "A-L-V-I-N. You know, like the chipmunk?"

"Um, okay," Vi gave me a faintly puzzled look but returned to her search, "It doesn't ring a bell, but…"

"Anyway, you didn't answer my question," I said, and gestured at the array of hanging documents, "What's this all about?"

"Oh, it's about Keame," she said absently, and gestured at a picture of the man, sitting in pride of place on the near wall, "What's that saying... 'Know your enemy'?"

I went to get a closer look. It was a pretty flattering photo, and without his glasses I had to admit that he was actually a good looking guy. While he had seemed cool, even chilly on that talk show here he was more relaxed and open. His features were still sharp, but they were softened by a large, expressive smile that radiated warmth, and I found myself smiling back before I caught myself.

"He doesn't really look the part, does he?" I said, "Seems hard to believe that he'd be part of a blackmail and murder plot."

"I'd say not to judge a book by its cover, but you're half right," said Vi, "Before the Blip, he was apparently a 'visionary CEO'. Thanks to him, Keame Refineries' won 'Missouri Employer of the Year' three times on the trot, and he himself won awards for charitable work through the Wilfred Keame Foundation."

She pointed to an article near the door showing Keame and a man in a suit shaking hands and smiling at the camera. He was holding a small golden statue that was glowing brightly in the flash, and as she'd said the caption did describe him as a 'Visionary CEO'.

"He changed after the Blip, though," she said, "Two weeks after we all...came back, he walked into the boardroom and sacked everyone present - took complete control."

"He could do that?"

"Nobody seems to have stopped him," Vi shrugged, "Anyway, he's done a number of things that are really out of character for him. He used to be a strong critic of arms dealers, but now he's investing heavily in Hammer Industries-"

"-I saw that-"

"-and he's also completely taken over the Wilfred Keame Foundation, named it after his son, and has stopped all its projects excepting the ones related to reuniting the 'Lost'-" she rolled her eyes, "-with their loved ones. I've heard that he's considering even running for office as the 'Voice of the Lost'."

"Yeah, Thera was saying something similar," I agreed, "But what changed him?"

"Well…" Vi tapped her finger to her lips, "He might be struggling to come to terms with the fact he died, or this brave new post-Blip world might be scary for him, or-" she snapped her fingers, "-bear with me here, but it just might have something to do with the fact that his only son was fricassed in his bathroom by an ideological crusader with a katana fixation. We don't know anyone who'd do such a terrible thing, do we?"

"I-we-" I sputtered, "Simon was a monster! He needed to-"

"Be held accountable for his crimes? Sure; he was a violent, sociopathic hedonist who had the Keame family fortune at his fingertips, and I have a whole stack of photos here that you really don't want to see-"

"-exactly-"

"-but that doesn't mean his dad didn't love him, Laura," she said, almost gently, "When I told you that I disagreed with Ronin's method, approach, and technique, this is why. It's very tempting to say 'Oh, they're terrible people. Who could love them?' but the truth is almost everyone is loved by someone. Simon needed to be exposed and stopped, but he didn't need to be martyred."

"I disagree," I said, "Some people just need to be taken out."

"Oh yeah?" she said, "'So it'd be just if someone else decided that Clint needed to be 'taken out', then? You'd be okay with him being gunned down on the bog?"

"Of course not!"

"Then why should Keame be okay with someone turning his only son into a 'build-a-human' kit?"

"I…" I paused, "I suppose when you put it like that, it's kind of hard to argue."

"Yeah," she must have caught my expression, because she added, "Look, I'm not trying to pass judgement on Clint. I mean, I can't even imagine what it must have been like for him to lose his family like that, but there will be consequences for his actions. He was hurt, so he hurt people, and those people will hurt other people. Fact of life..."

She trailed off, as if she thought she had given away too much, and returned to rifling through her stacks of paper with renewed energy.

"Ah!" she said, and produced a sheaf of paper, "I knew it was around here somewhere. Alvin, was it?"

"Yeah!" I said excitedly, "Is he on there?"

"Cool your jets, hotshot. I have Aaron, an Aileen...even an Amethyst. Actually, I remember her; she's a good kid. Likes to colour," she gave me a curious look, "Is that really a name, though? Must be popular amongst geologists...but no. No Alvin."

"Damn," I felt a surge of disappointment, "So he's not in the Blip Centres?"

"I didn't say that," she said, "He's just not in my Blip Centre. There are at least another thirty in Missouri, but if he got Snapped downstate like you said then that'll narrow my search quite a lot. I'll... make some discreet calls."

"Are you sure?" I said, "Thank you, Vi. Seriously; you're a lifesaver."

"You don't know the half of it," she said, and pinned me with a stare, "I will find him, Laura. Even if I have to tear every Blip Centre down to their shoddy foundations, I'll find him. I promise you that."

"I believe you," I said, and exhaled heavily, "That's such a load off my- whoa!"

My phone buzzed noisily in my pocket, sending tingles running up and down my leg.

"What was that?" Vi asked sharply.

"Oh...just my phone," I said, and pulled it out to show her, "I asked Clint to look up Maisie's dad."

"Oh, good idea!" she said approvingly, "What did he say?"

"Hold on, hold on-" I said, and squinted at the screen, "Let's see…'

Gordon Bennett partner in Bennett-Allerton Consultants….

Specialists in high security architecture…

Cool fact; have worked w/X-CON (Lang's outfit) in past...

Previous clients include HELIX INTERNATIONAL!

P.S. Put Nate to bed. Lila doing homework. Coop just shouted 'take that you noob!' upstairs. Will talk to Fury re: Blip Centre.

"That's a lot of exclamation marks," Vi said, looking over my shoulder, "Helix International again? Somehow I don't think that's a coincidence."

"You know that Keame wants to buy Helix International as well, right?" I said, "He announced it this morning."

"I missed that," she admitted, "...but clearly there's something there that he wants."

"#273."

There was a pause, "Come again?"

"It's #273," I repeated, "We found a set of instructions on Caleb's phone. They were demanding that Sophia give up #273 or its location, or they'd kill her husband."

"Did she crack?"

"She said she told them everything she could," I paused. Vi suddenly seemed strangely intent, "Hey, Vi...what do you think it is?"

"...I'm not sure," she said, "They do bio stuff, right? Maybe some new kind of treatment?"

"Well, Sophia wouldn't tell us what it was either," I said, "In fact, she hung up as soon as Clint told her who he was!"

"I'm not surprised," she muttered, and added quickly, "I mean... being called out of the blue by a bloody Avenger has to be pretty intimidating, y'know! Not that it's, um, Clint."

"You're a terrible liar, Vi," I said, and gave her a long look, "We told her that Thera managed to stablise her, but we didn't realise what that meant at the time. Apparently he's made a full recovery."

"What did you expect?" she said, and I could see the evasiveness in her expression, "Thera's an expert."

"Yeah, but these aren't the kind of injuries that you make a full recovery from!" I said, "I haven't seen the photos myself, but...his eyes? I don't think they're the kind of thing you can grow back. Doctor Strange saw them, and-"

"Doctor Strange saw the photos?" she said, and her eyes narrowed, "You've been holding out on me, Laura."

"I'm sorry! He came to my house!" I said, "What was I meant to do; turn away the 'Master of the Mystic Arts'? I quite like being not a frog!"

"This again? He can't turn you into a frog, Laura! Not without blowing himself and everyone in a ten mile radius into itty bitty pieces," she sighed, "It's simple conservation of energy!"

"That's not reassuring."

"Great. Now you know how I feel!" she said, "So why'd he come a-knocking?"

"Well…" I quickly filled her in on what we'd talked about with Doctor Strange, "...but I didn't tell him that Thera was unconscious or where you lived. I didn't want to bring him down on you like that."

"That's something, I suppose," she said with some relief, "Thank you, Laura."

"Fair's fair. I mean, you've kept our secrets," I said plainly, "And besides...look, Thera's not normal. He simply isn't. Maybe you aren't either, but I don't care."

She looked a little surprised, "You don't?"

"No. My mum had a lot of issues, but she had one saying I agree with, 'It doesn't matter who you are. It's what you do.' Maybe you and Thera could blow the planet to smithereens, but you haven't. You've kept your heads down and just tried to do the best you could with what you had! Sure, maybe you're a bit dysfunctional, but who isn't? I thought I was normal and it turns out I've got a tonne of issues. So...no, I don't care, and I'm not gonna tell anyone. I-"

Without a word Vi suddenly stepped forward and caught me in an impulsive, bone-grinding hug. I could feel her shaking with repressed emotion as she clutched at my shoulders, and for a moment I genuinely thought she was going to squeeze the life out of me.

"Vi…" I gasped, and tapped urgently on her shoulder, "Can't...breathe…"

"Oh? Oh!" she said, and leapt backwards, "Goddess, I'm so sorry! I just-"

"It's okay," I said, and tried to catch my breath, "I just...I just didn't take you for being a hugger!"

"I...um..." she looked away, and I could feel the barriers going back up, "Sorry. That was inappropriate."

"What, the hug or the bit where you almost crushed my ribcage?"

"Hah," she said, with a small smile, "You may have noticed that I don't always think before I act. Once Thera and I were shopping for groceries and he asked me if we needed red or white onions. My response? I grabbed his arm, stared deep into his eyes and told him that I loved him."

"What's wrong with that?" I said, "I think it's kinda sweet."

"Well...it was the first time I told anyone that I was in love with them!" she said, "I'd been psyching myself up for it for weeks, and it just reached the point where I had to say it or I'd explode. I... may have come across a bit intense."

"Still not seeing anything wrong here. Some guys are into that!"

"Oh, Thera's used to it, but an old lady nearby thought I was trying to mug him," she said, "One second I'm angling for some grand romantic moment and maybe a good snog, and the next I'm being pelted with grapefruit and wailed on by a four foot ten whirlwind!" she scratched ruefully at her head, "Whatever was in that handbag, it was heavy."

"It worked in the end though, didn't it?"

"Thera was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe!" she complained, but her smile lit up the room, "But yeah, it was totally worth it - well, after I'd cleaned all the juice out of my hair."

Once again, I was once again forced to reevaluate this strangely mercurial woman. Sure she had a prickly side, a razor sharp tongue, and was a total gadfly, but when her guard was down she was also very sweet and doggedly loyal. Nobody could fake the love in that warm, genuine smile, either, and with a jolt of nostalgia I realised it was the same smile that my Mom had whenever Dad came through the door. It had vanished when he died.

"Well, anyway...I should probably go have it out with Clint," I said, shaking myself out of my reverie, "He wasn't happy that I came back here."

"I get that," she said, "If it'll help, you can tell him from me that I'm happy for him to shoot apples off my head or...I dunno. What do you do when you want to apologise to him?"

"Um…" I paused, and her eyebrows went up.

"Oh really? You're more manipulative than you look, Laura Barton," she said, "But no, I'm not willing to do that."

"Good!" I said, "But actually, there is something else."

"What?"

"Clint was...well, after we went to that Blip Centre, he was feeling pretty bad. He...he-"

"Didn't stop to think about the ramifications of rematerialising a bunch of dead people because he was totally fixated on getting his family back?" she said, without so much as a pause for breath. I nodded, silently.

"So you'd like something to help him be sure he did the right thing? Or...more sure?" she thought about this for a moment, "Yeah, that I can do. Just leave it with me."

"Are you sure? I'm leaving a lot with you."

"Well, what are friends for, hey?" she said, "And you are my friend, Laura. Whatever happens, I'm glad I met you."

"Thanks, Vi," I said, "Anyway, I should be-"

"Would you like to see Thera before you go?" she said quickly, "I mean, he's not as talkative as he normally is..."

She fell silent, but I could see the pleading look in her eyes. How many people had she had a chance to talk to this week? Living in an isolated warehouse, taking care of an unresponsive fiance...it must have been a desperately lonely experience. No wonder she'd taken to setting up mannequin assault courses.

"Sure," I said, "I can keep you company for a bit. Clint said he had to make some calls, anyway."

"Great!" she relaxed visibly, "I've set him up down in the coffee room. Just follow me!"

Vi led me back down the stairs and across the warehouse floor. With the light shining from the office, I could see that her activities hadn't just been limited to beating up defenceless mannequins. On the mats a heavy bag lay battered and defeated on its side, trailing a length of chain. A similar length swung disconsolately from a nearby stand, and I wondered briefly just how hard she'd hit it to cause that kind of damage.

More curious, though, was the log. It stood alone off to the side in a carefully cleared area, and was propped up with a pair of weighted-down aerobic benches. Up and down its length was a series of deep cuts, too thin to be caused by an axe or a saw, but also too long to be a knife. I stared at them for a moment, and looked over at the pile of smoothly sliced up mannequin limbs I'd seen earlier.

"Hey Vi," I asked, "What's with the log?"

"Training," she said, with a shrug, "I know guns are really easy to get ahold of here, but I didn't want to get rusty."

"Training with what?" I said, and gave the cuts another long look. Had she found a lightsaber back there?

"Whatever's available. Sometimes you need to improvise in a fight," she said briskly, and then stopped as she reached out for the coffee room door, "Sorry. It needs to be cold in here. For his sake."

She wasn't joking. The instant she opened the door, a chilly wave hit me in the face like a fresh arctic breeze, and I half expected my breath to crystallise in the air as we stepped inside.

"Should've remembered my coat," I muttered, and she gave me an apologetic look in response.

Like the office, the coffee room had undergone a substantial transformation. In fact, it almost put me in mind of a massage parlour. The benches had all been pushed to one side, and had been replaced with a large, comfortable mattress dressed in a white sheet. A ring of electric candles provided a warm, diffuse glow, and the gentle sounds of the ocean sloshed and burbled from a couple of speakers. If it weren't for the chill air and whine of an overtaxed air compressor, it would almost have been cosy.

Thera lay on his side on the mattress, as unmoving as he had been almost a week ago. In the light of the candles I could see that his expression was still and peaceful, and his breathing was slow, steady, and calm. While he'd been stripped to the waist, for some reason he was still wearing his hat. Was that damn thing glued on?

Vi went immediately to kneel down by his side.

"Hey Sparky," she said, gently taking his hand, "I've brought Laura to see you. She's asked for our help finding her daughter's friend's adoptive father's kid, and I thought you might be up for that."

"Can he hear us?" I asked.

"It helps me to believe he can," she said, and sat back on her heels, "I've had a lot of one-sided conversations over the past couple of days."

"I'm sorry," I said, "This must be really tough for you."

"I've dealt with worse," she said. While her tone was casual enough, her strained expression told a different story, "I love him, Laura, and I love what we do. At the end of the day, I'm able to go to sleep knowing that I've really helped people! It's just...sometimes I get frustrated. Is it too much to just want some time where we can be a normal couple doing normal couple things? I want to get up, brush my teeth, go to work, maybe sell a piece or two, come home, have dinner, crack open a nice bottle of red and fall asleep together in front of the radio! You know, without some twit paging us at three in the morning because some other twit decided to see how far up his arse he could shove some high voltage cabling!"

"Ouch. Wait, did that actually happen?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure what possessed him, really," she said, absently, "Forget Thanos; I swear our greatest enemy is just good old fashioned human stupidity."

I laughed, and for just a moment a hint of a smile shone through her cloudy expression.

"And...I dunno. Sometimes I get a bit scared that he just sees me like...some kind of long-term patient. I know he's a fixer, so...what he only wants to be with me because he's trying to fix me? Will he still love me if I'm 'fixed'? It's stupid and insecure, I know, but…"

"Don't worry. I've been there too," I said, "I remember the first time Clint introduced me to Nat. Christ; she was gorgeous! Worse, she was this slinky superspy who could speak a dozen languages while kicking your ass and hacking military grade hardware all at the same time. I was...well, Laura. How could I possibly compare to her?"

"You did, though. Don't be so down on yourself!"

"Yeah, I know, but it took me a long time to accept that I wasn't just some kind of backup option while he waited for her to fall for him."

"How'd you get over it?"

"Well...it got a bit easier when I realised that Clint also gets insecure sometimes, y'know, about the rest of the Avengers. He's a great shot, probably the best, but he's always kind of felt that in a group with Thor, Rogers, and Stark, he's just-"

"A second stringer?"

"-I was going to say 'Man With Bow," I said tartly, "My point is that it happens to everyone, Vi. As long as you don't do anything stupid, you'll be fine."

"Yeah, you're right, and I know I'm being an idiot," she said, "Thanks. But...I've got a question for you."

"Shoot."

"I've gotta admit, I'm curious to find out how one of S.H.I.E.L.D's top agents got together with a...a…"

"Pancake house waitress?" I supplied helpfully, "Don't look at me like that! I was Employee of the Month four times in one year!"

"Waitress? Really?" she said, "I was going to say 'S.H.I.E.L.D intern', 'cause that's what's written in your file. Now I'm doubly curiou-"

Suddenly, Thera's eyes snapped open, and as I jerked back in surprise he shot bolt upright in bed and stared at us with wild, uncomprehending eyes. He was silent, eerily so, but as our gazes locked I could see the shock etched across his face.

"Sp...Sparky?" Vi said disbelievingly, and then she threw her arms around his neck, "Oh, Sparky! You're back!"

"W…." Thera croaked, as she dissolved into tears, "Wat...er…"

I looked around quickly, and saw a small plastic cup filled with water sitting on a nearby bench. Clearly, Vi had prepared for this, and he looked at me gratefully as I fetched it down and handed it to him. His hand shook as he lifted it to his lips and downed it in a single gulp, and then he tossed the cup to one side and silently embraced his fiancee.

Eventually, Vi sat back. While she was still holding his hand and her expression was gentle, there was real steel in her gaze. However glad she might have been that he had woken up, her anger had clearly not gone away.

"How're you feeling?" she said. For a moment he looked confused, as if he hadn't fully understood the question.

"Tired," when he finally talked, his voice was slow and monotonous, "Very tired. Where are we?"

"At the warehouse," she said, "Laura brought you here after you passed out."

"I...remember that," he said, "I think. You were shouting?"

"Ah...yeah," she gave me a bashful look, "You heard that?"

"I heard a lot of things. Didn't understand them," he said, with an effort, "Just you. I heard you a lot. Telling me you loved me."

"I do," she said, and gave his hand a tight squeeze, "So much, Sparky."

"I...love you too," he paused for a moment, as if he was manually assembling a sentence in his head, "We're not home yet, then?"

"Nope. Still in Missouri."

"...bugger," he looked around, "You...did this?"

"I wanted you to be comfortable," she said, "And cold. After what happened last time, I wasn't taking any chances."

"Thank you," he said, "And...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to fix everything myself. I'm sorry I burned out. I went...a bit crazy."

"A bit-" Viola bit down hard on her retort. When she continued, her voice was kind but firm, "No, we can talk about that later. When you're better."

"I know. I know...why I did that," he gritted his teeth, but I could see he was wavering, "I...saw you Snap."

Vi recoiled as if she'd been struck, and the steel in her gaze gave way to horror, "No, Sparky. That's...no, you can't have done! Please tell me you didn't-"

"I was bringing you lemonade," he said, and took a deep breath, "Saw you working...then...ash. Gone. Saw you die. Felt you die."

"Oh, Goddess…I-"

"Don't remember much after that," Thera continued, "Collapsed. Prayed. World came rushing in…then nothing. Woke up with you."

"No," whispered Viola, and took his hand up to her cheek, "No no no. Sparky, I'm so sorry. I had no idea..."

"Not your fault," Thera gave her an exhausted smile, "Neither... did I. You've been...so amazing…"

With a sigh, his eyes closed once again and he relaxed into her arms. For a long time the only sound was the whine of the air conditioner. Viola held Thera tightly as she stared blankly off into space, obviously too shocked for words, while I sat there and wondered what in the world I was meant to do or say in a moment like this. Part of me wavered backwards and forwards over attempting to console the distraught bodyguard, but another part was thinking hard about what Thera had said. For some reason, it didn't quite seem to fit with what I'd heard before.

In the end, I tabled those thoughts, and instead reached out to pat Vi gently on the hand. She looked over with some surprise, and I gave her a weak smile.

"Are you okay?" I said, and kicked myself internally, "Obviously you aren't. I mean...that was a lot to take in. Do you want me to-"

"No," she said, hoarsely, "Please stay. Just for a little longer."

"Sure," I said, and looked uncertainly at her fiance, "He hasn't slipped back into a coma, has he?"

"No, he's sleeping properly now," she said, and carefully laid Thera back down on the mattress, "I should probably go find something for him to eat when he wakes up. 'Should still have some of those cereal bars left. Need more water, too."

"Hold on, Viola," I said, as she went to stand up, "I know busywork when I see it. C'mon, talk to me."

"What's there to say?" she said, and I could hear the quiver in her voice, "Laura, I've spent this past month just getting madder and madder about how he's been acting! If I'd known-"

"It's not your fault," I said quickly, "Not even he knew about it."

"I know, but maybe I could've dug deeper! It's so obvious!"

"Only with hindsight," I said, "You did your best, Vi."

"I…" she sighed, "You're right. There's no point kicking myself for it now. I just wish I could've spared him that memory."

"Oh, I know that feeling," I said, "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah…" she looked down for a moment, but when she looked up I was surprised to see a new fire in her eyes, "But it's not gonna break me, and I know it isn't going to break Sparky either. We're here, we're alive, and we're-" she smiled briefly, "-in good company. In many ways, we're luckier than we have any right to be. I'm not going to let a bad memory get in the way of us rebuilding our life together, whether it's in our home or in some bloody warehouse in Missouri!"

She looked skywards, and added loudly, "You hear that, Thanos? You've lost!"

"Well...that's good!"

"Yeah," she got to her feet, and extended a hand to help me up, "Okay. I hate to throw you out, but I've got a whole laundry list of things that I need to do, thanks to this damn busybody who burst in here at the dead of night and messed up all my stuff."

"It's fine," I said, "I need to go and have it out with Clint, anyway."

"Be sure to send him my love."

"That's not helpful."

"It might confuse him," she said, "And look; don't worry about Alvin, and please don't go trying to do anything by yourself. If you're right and the Bennetts really are tied up in something suspect, then you should make sure you're well clear.

"But I want to help!" I protested.

"I know you do," she said, "So let's find some way that you can help that plays to your strengths, yeah? I don't know, do you think that 'being skinned alive and hanged from a bridge as a warning to others' is something you're particularly good at?"

"Not exactly," I said, and shuddered.

"Didn't think so," she said, "As soon as I've made sure there's enough food and water for Sparky, I'm going to go make some calls. I'm sure there's a thread somewhere I can pull on, and when I do we'll see what unravels."

"That sounds dangerous. Are you sure? What if they track you back here?"

"I'll be discreet, Laura," she said, "And I'm used to dealing with the more...unsavoury elements in society. If I find out something positive, I'll be sure to let you know."

"And then what? What do we do?"

"I'm not sure. We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it," she said, and then a nasty little smile flickered across her face, "What it is, though, I'm sure it'll be spectacular."