Author's note: Thanks to SpanishGirl, Guest, Nimrodel 101, girliemom, MagicLia16, GuiltyPleasure82, sofiarose613, Cariana, jerseydanielgibson and Apex 85 for your reviews, and all my other readers for your interest.

A quick response to the Guest reviewer who asked about whether Howard would remember meeting adult Tony back in 1970: I pondered that as I was writing the scene when Howard sees the photo of Tony from 2012, and came to the conclusion that Howard would probably not remember him well enough to instantly draw a connection. While that 1970 meeting was obviously very meaningful and memorable to Tony, Howard was not aware he was meeting anyone other than a visitor to S.H.I.E.L.D. who was a fan of his work and, as Jarvis points out, he "meets a lot of people." Twenty years later, I'm not sure the face of one person from a chance meeting would stick in his memory. (I have had Steve remember a few chance meetings with his own grandkids in the future, but the only reason that works is because he has a serum-enhanced memory and, unlike Howard, he's aware that time shenanigans are possible.) I hope that answers your question. It would have been interesting to have Howard remember Tony, but I ultimately decided it wouldn't be realistic.

Also, I've had several readers now ask me for a family tree to help keep all the grandkids straight. Here it is, along with their ages and namesakes.

The children of Sarah (age 44, named after Steve's mother) and Dave:

Abraham (Bram), age 18, named after Dr. Erskine

Margaret (Maggie), 16, named after Peggy

Steven, almost 13, named after Steve

Amanda, 11, named after Peggy's mother

Joseph (Joe), 9, named after Steve's father

The children of Mike (age 44, named after Peggy's brother) and Tien:

Natasha (Natty), 17, named after Natasha Romanoff

Harrison, 15, named after Peggy's father

Samantha (Sammy), 12, named after Sam Wilson (she was born the same year as him)

Clint, 10, named after Clint Barton

December 26, 1991

"My name is Frank Rumlow," the man in the bulletproof vest said, "and I'll be your new supervisor."

His dark eyes scrutinized Sarah with a hint of a smirk. Behind him, another man wearing a dark knit cap held Steven tightly in his grip, pressing the barrel of a gun against her son's head. Steven was speechless with terror, blue eyes wide and glistening with barely-suppressed tears.

"Rumlow?" Sarah breathed the name out slowly, her voice not coming out as much more than a whisper, eyes darting back and forth between him and Steven. Not that Rumlow, surely. But it couldn't be a coincidence, the name. Which meant that these men were almost certainly...

"Wondering how we found you, doctor?" Rumlow continued, eyebrows arching. "Well, it's a crazy thing, actually. You see, my colleague Brian Moran wears a tracker at all times. He was in charge of a very important asset for us, as I think you already know, and the bosses, they ordered me to keep an eye on him. Wouldn't want to lose track of a guy who can control a weapon that dangerous." He took a step closer to Sarah as he continued: "So imagine my surprise when his tracker showed that on December 16, right in the middle of a mission, he suddenly jumped from Long Island, New York to Bethesda, Maryland. Nearly 300 miles traveled in the blink of an eye. Ended up right here, smack in the middle of the suburbs."

A sudden horror jolted through Sarah as she remembered: Brian Moran. The Hydra agent who had come through the portal with them when she'd rescued Mike and Tien. The one who had taken poison in her backyard after his escape attempt failed. They'd kept his body right here in the lab until...

"And it gets even weirder," Rumlow continued blithely. "About an hour later, he makes another wild jump, this time to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Not an island. Nowhere near a shipping lane. And then the tracker malfunctioned. I guess he drowned." His stare bored into her. "Or maybe you killed him first and then dumped the body. Now, moving someone across that big of a distance in that short a time... that's a pretty good trick." He studied her intensely. "I can't wait to see how you pulled it off."

A radio at his belt suddenly crackled to life, and a man's voice said: "House is secured."

Rumlow lifted the radio to his mouth without taking his eyes off Sarah. "You've got Director Carter and her husband?" he asked.

"Negative. No trace of them. We searched every floor."

Rumlow raised his eyebrows at Sarah in a wordless challenge. "Let me guess. You moved them somewhere in the blink of an eye?"

She held her tongue. They already knew her name and that her mother was involved, which was disastrous in ways she couldn't even begin to fathom, and she knew instinctively that the more she talked, the worse it would be. But she could not stop her eyes from darting back over to Steven, held in the other man's grip. He looked as terrified as she felt, visibly shaking although he had his teeth clamped shut; she could see the muscles in his jaw clenching from here. His eyes were silently pleading to her for help. But what could she do? They might hurt him before she got him away from them.

And at the thought of it, at the picture that suddenly flashed through her imagination, something inside her went cold. Some part of her that she didn't know could grow cold.

"Hey, Rumlow," one of the other men said then, holding up the papers from Howard Stark's briefcase with a victorious grin. "It's Stark's notes. On the serum. They're all here. We got 'em!"

Rumlow smiled broadly, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. The other men ransacking the lab paused to exchange triumphant looks with each other. She could only imagine what kind of reward they had been offered for the successful completion of this mission. A promotion, at the very least. Maybe even a chance to use the serum themselves.

"Well, what do you know?" Rumlow said to Sarah with a grin. "And here we thought you and your merry little band were providing Stark with extra security... but it looks like you were just our rivals, hunting for the same prize."

"I'm no thief," she snapped before she could stop herself.

"Oh, you're a thief all right, just a lousy one," he said with amusement. "But I'll tell you what. I'll let you keep Stark's notes. Let you continue his work. Your husband, too; a geneticist at George Washington, right? Very impressive resume. Between the two of you I bet you can churn out batches for us pretty quick. And in return..." Rumlow turned toward the man holding Steven. "I'll let you have your kid back."

"Which one is this?" he asked then with casual curiosity, moving toward Steven. "Abraham? Joseph?"

"Steven," the man holding her son answered readily. "The middle one."

Rumlow laughed a little, glancing back at Sarah. "I don't know how you keep them all straight, doctor. But don't worry. I'll help you keep an eye on him, and the other four, too. I'm a dad myself, you know." He bent down to look Steven in the eye, hands resting on his knees. "We've been watching you for a while, you know," he said to Steven softly. "We know where you go to school. Where you go to church. Who all your friends in the neighborhood are."

Rumlow reached out to slowly smooth Steven's ruffled hair back down. Steven leaned back, trying to move out of his reach, but the other man held him in a vice-like grip against his chest, and Steven was forced to tolerate Rumlow's touch.

"Yeah..." Rumlow said, trailing one finger down the side of Steven's face. "I think we're all going to get along real well." Steven bit his lip hard and managed to bite back a sob, but could not stop two tears from suddenly flooding down his cheeks.

It was at that moment that something else flared into life deep down inside Sarah. Something hot. Something that threatened to bubble to the surface and choke the very life out of the men who were daring to touch her son.

"See, this is the problem with letting women raise boys," Rumlow said, his lips curling with disgust as he looked down at Steven's tears. "I brought my boy up right. He learned not to snivel every time someone shook him by the collar. He learned how to take it like a man."

"I'm well aware of what you did to your son," Sarah said sharply. "And if you do it to mine..." She gritted her teeth, an anger unlike she had ever felt before surging in her veins. She forced herself to take a deep breath to keep her voice steady.

"You know," she said a little more quietly, "I became a doctor because I wanted to help people. Not hurt them. But if you don't let him go? This instant?" She paused, her eyes boring into Rumlow's. "I'll tear you apart."

Rumlow barked out a laugh. "Okay, sweetheart."

Behind him, the three other men were packing up her computer, her notes, Howard's notes, all the samples of serum, everything, but she couldn't even bring herself to care right now. It felt like she was looking through a tunnel, and all she could see at the end was Steven and Rumlow. She knew she shouldn't talk, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

"You'll wish it was my brother and not me," she hissed between her teeth. "He knows how to do it quick and painless. I don't."

Rumlow's eyes grew suddenly eager. "Your brother? What about him?"

"And if any of you are still alive in the next five minutes?" she barreled on, enunciating every word clearly so they would be sure to understand her. "You can give my regards to Alexander Pierce."

All the men in the room stopped what they were doing and turned to stare at her.

"What did you say?" Rumlow said, face going slack with surprise.

"Tell him he's already a dead man," she added harshly. "He just doesn't know it yet."

The man holding Steven exchanged alarmed looks with Rumlow, and then he stopped doing the only thing that was keeping him alive, and he took the gun from Steven's head and pointed it at hers instead.

"How do you know that name?" he demanded.

She only smiled.

"Hey!" the man barked angrily, waggling the gun at her. "You better start talking, or I start breaking fingers!" He gave Steven's shoulder a rough shake.

"He isn't as breakable as you think," Sarah said. She paused. "And neither am I."

And then she charged toward him.

He instinctively pulled the trigger, as she'd known he would, but the hyper-focus she'd gone into allowed her to see his finger squeezing in slow-motion, and with whip-fast reflexes she twisted to the side, feeling only a sharp sting in her shoulder that didn't slow her down in the slightest before she crashed into him.

The man shoved Steven away an instant before they collided in a vain attempt to free his arms to block her tackle, but he clearly wasn't prepared for how much momentum she was able to build up in just a few steps, and she knocked him backwards full-force, body-slamming him against the lab cupboards. An involuntary grunt escaped his wide-open mouth, and then he slid down the cupboards and onto the floor, insensible, the gunshot still echoing around the room.

"Don't shoot!" Rumlow yelled out urgently as the other men all whipped out their guns. "We need her alive!"

"Steven, run!" Sarah shouted, seeing him crouching down on the floor, looking stunned at what had just happened. "Get out of here!"

He scrambled for the door obediently, but she didn't get to see him leave, because another man was already swinging a fist toward her head.

She caught his fist, stopping it cold. He tried to pull away from her grasp, but she wouldn't let him. Instead, she grabbed his wrist with her other hand, twisted to the side, and flung him over her shoulder with all of her strength.

He came down hard, his body smashing down onto the lab counter back-first, cracking the stone top in half as he tumbled down into the splintering wood of the cupboards underneath. Sawdust flew up into the air, obscuring the shocked faces of the three men who still remained. One of them swore loudly, backing away from her, but then his eye fell on one of the lab stools, and he grabbed it and threw it at her instead. Instinctively she reached out and caught it only inches before its metal bars hit her head.

She glared at the man who had thrown it, and then threw the stool back at him. He ducked behind the counter and managed to avoid it before it smashed into the wall behind him and plaster exploded into the air, but without hesitation she leapt over the counter and started to give him what he deserved fist-first.

Her attack was artless, frenzied, and in the heat of the moment she had only the vaguest idea of what she was doing and how she was doing it, but she was faster and stronger and angrier than him, and he had little defense against it. Within seconds she had him down, too.

Three down, two to go. She came around the end of the counter, breathing quickly but feeling ready for more. Rumlow was at the end of the room by the door, his gun trained on her, looking at her in amazement. She could feel the warm flow of blood from the bullet wound in her shoulder, soaking her sleeve, but she barely felt the pain.

"You took it yourself?" he asked in disbelief, eyes flicking over to the vials of serum the other men had abandoned amid the fight. "You took it?"

"You couldn't be more wrong," Sarah said, and she lifted her chin proudly. "I'm my father's daughter."

The other man, who had been standing between her and Rumlow, suddenly launched himself toward her. She grappled with him in a fierce but brief struggle, and as she did so she could see Rumlow snatching up Howard Stark's briefcase and running out the door and into the snowy yard. A fresh surge of adrenaline shot through her as she realized she didn't know where Steven was anymore, and for all she knew Rumlow was running toward him. She kicked the other man where it hurt the most and, not waiting to see if he stayed down, she dashed out into the snow too.

The sun had just slipped below the horizon, but in the twilight she could see several men bursting out of the back door of her home just as Rumlow disappeared inside, briefcase in hand.

She ran after Rumlow full-speed, clipping first one man and then another with her shoulder as she ran past, sending them tumbling to the ground. The third one made a strange flicking motion with his wrist just before she could reach him, and abruptly she went down and hit the snow hard, something entangling her feet.

He fell upon her, delivering brutal blows, and precious time ticked away as she tried to protect her face with her arms while she worked clumsily to wriggle her feet out of the tight restraints. Finally, seeing the futility of it, she bent her knees up against her chest and double-kicked him in the face instead. He fell back, unconscious, and she reached down and snapped the cord with both hands, freeing her feet at last. Shedding powdery snow, she scrambled back up, punched out the first two men who had staggered back up to fight her again, and ran inside the house.

A strong draft was blowing through, which meant the front door was open, too. Without hesitation she dashed straight through the house and out the front door. In the dim light she could see Rumlow running across the front yard, briefcase in one hand and dragging Steven by the hair with the other. He was almost to a car parked on the street that she didn't recognize.

There was no time to catch up to him, so she did the only thing she could: she shoved her hand into her pocket, pulled out the sling ring, and in one quick swish of her hand she opened up a portal between Rumlow and his getaway car.

He skidded to a stop in the slippery snow just before he reached the edge of the portal. Inside the circle of spinning light was nothing but empty air. Frigid air blasted through the opening, even colder than the air here, and far below the opening lightning was spidering its way across a floor of storm-gray clouds. Clutching both Steven and the briefcase, Rumlow stared through the portal in shock.

Sarah walked toward him slowly, both hands up to keep the portal stable, the wind whipping her hair wildly around her face.

"The Atlantic Ocean," she explained to Rumlow matter-of-factly. "It's a long way down to the water. I got the visualization from looking out the window of a plane."

"Witch," he hissed through his teeth, looking back at her in naked revulsion.

"You said it. Now let go of my son," she said darkly, "and throw that briefcase to me."

Rumlow laughed humorlessly. "No, that ain't the way it works," he said contemptuously. "The kid and the case, that's what keeping you from doing to me what you did to Brian Moran." He raised his voice in a commanding tone. "So you're gonna turn that thing off and you're gonna let me go, or else I'm gonna throw him in." He tightened the fist he was using to hold Steven by the hair, making him cry out sharply, and pulled him closer to the portal.

Sarah felt her brows come together. There was a dangerous pause.

"Steven," she said in a voice low but clear. "Take the case from him, and run."

"Mom-!" he said breathlessly, eyes wide with fear.

She looked into his eyes steadily. "You can do this. You can."

His chest rising and falling quickly, Steven looked back and forth between her and Rumlow. And then, slowly, his brows knit together and his jaw clenched, his expression growing uncharacteristically fierce.

He reached out and grabbed the briefcase with both hands, pulling it firmly toward himself. Rumlow, still clutching it by the handle, pulled back and seemed surprised at the amount of resistance he encountered. He tried to brace his feet in the slippery snow, but Steven pulled on the case harder and Rumlow slid forward helplessly several inches. He yanked on Steven's hair in an effort to make him let go, but he stubbornly held on.

A flash of anger crossed Rumlow's face, and abruptly he let go of Steven's hair and raised his fist threateningly. Steven stared up at him unwaveringly, lips pressed together and brow fiercely furrowed, both arms clamped around the briefcase.

The fist came down on his face like a hammer. Steven crumpled in a heap down in the snow... still clutching the briefcase. The hinge had snapped, leaving Rumlow staggering back holding the empty handle. Steven scrambled desperately backward in the snow, cradling the briefcase against his body.

Rumlow looked up just in time to see Sarah kick him solidly in the chest.

He stumbled backward through the portal and plummeted through the empty air, arms pinwheeling, shouting uselessly against the frigid wind. His body rapidly dwindled to a small dark dot against the storm-lashed waves far below.

With one quick flourish, Sarah closed the portal, and the wind abruptly stopped. Instantly, she ran over to Steven and fell to her knees in the snow. He was sitting up slowly, looking stunned but okay, both arms still wrapped around the briefcase.

They didn't say a word, just threw their arms around each other with the briefcase sandwiched in between them, panting for breath in the silence of the night, not caring that they were getting cold and wet in the snow. Sarah had never been so thankful in her life to feel the warmth of Steven's body against hers, not since the day he'd been born and it had taken the doctors what had seemed like an eternity to get him to breathe properly before they would finally let her hold him. She squeezed him tightly, and his answering grip on her was every bit as tight.

They might have stayed that way for a long time, just being grateful they were both still alive, if Sarah hadn't slowly lifted her head with a frown pulling down her mouth: was that a siren she heard in the distance, and coming closer? Suddenly alert again, she looked around, belatedly remembering that there had been a gunshot back in the lab; she was only just now starting to register the sting of the wound in her shoulder. The blood spotting the snow around them was her own.

No emergency vehicles were in sight, at least not yet, but Sarah's eye was drawn to the window of the house next to theirs, lit up with a string of Christmas lights. Her elderly neighbor was pulling his curtains to the side to look out, and he was clutching his phone to his ear, speaking into it urgently. Horrified, Sarah looked at the other houses around them.

They all had scared faces looking out the windows at her and Steven.

"We can't go back home."

Steve leaned forward and patted his daughter's knee in silent sympathy. Sarah was sitting on the couch in the safe house, eyes distant. Dave had his arm around her, carefully avoiding her bandaged shoulder. Steven was on her other side, leaned up against his mother in silence, just like he had been ever since they'd all arrived. Peggy was sitting on the other couch with Mike and Tien. All the grandkids were spread around on the floor in their sleeping bags, but no one was remotely thinking of sleep. In the next room, all the serum samples and the lab equipment, along with Howard Stark's briefcase, had been piled on the kitchen table.

"Hydra knows where we live," Sarah continued dully. "Where we work. Where the kids go to school. We can't ever go back." She sighed deeply. "Fifteen years. We've been there 15 years. All our friends..." She trailed off, looking stricken. "Will we even be able to say goodbye to them?" Dave squeezed her shoulders, but didn't say anything. What was there to say? She was right, and they all knew it.

"You're sure your neighbors saw what happened?" Mike repeated in deep concern. "They saw you were attacked?"

"They heard the gunshot and called the police. They saw the fight, they saw how it ended," Sarah said in deep distress. "My friend Patty. The Greens. Mr. Graham. All of them. I can only imagine..." She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "I can only imagine what they must be thinking right now. What they must be telling the police."

"I called Nick Fury personally and had him secure the scene at your house," Peggy said quietly. "I asked him to send away the local law enforcement, and to use only his most trusted agents to guard the property. He'll be able to bury the reports. He'll think of something to tell your neighbors. He's good at that."

"You're sure you got everything out of the lab before the police arrived?" Dave asked anxiously.

Sarah nodded wearily. "I sent everything here. And I moved the... the Hydra agents, too, before Steven and I left. I don't think the police ever saw us."

"I think what we need to do next, sis, is to use your, uh, resources to empty out your house overnight," Mike said, smoothly taking up the thread. "Maybe you can get Mahika and some of the other Masters to help us. Then we'll clear out Mom and Dad's house — that shouldn't take too long, since they already had it staged for buyers — and then ours."

"Our house too?" a startled Natty asked from where she sat in her sleeping bag, her knees drawn up against her chest. The deep concern etched into her face was mirrored by her siblings.

"They were watching Dave and Sarah's house for more than a week, honey," Mike explained gently. "They saw all of us coming and going, and they knew Director Carter was involved. It's only a matter of time before they send another team to track down the rest of us."

"They only zeroed in on Sarah and Dave's house because that's where Moran went," Peggy said. "Once they saw there was a secure building on the property behind the house, they must have realized something valuable was being stored there. They were smart enough to watch and wait and make a plan. Don't blame yourself, Sarah. There was no way you could have foreseen this."

"Do you think they knew...?" Maggie started, and then shot a knowing look at Steve. She knew better than to say more in front of the younger kids. They were scared enough as it was, and this wasn't the time to go into all the family's secrets.

"No," Sarah said briefly. "They obviously weren't prepared for... for what they found."

"Still," Mike said, "we're a danger to them, and they know it. Our association with Mom alone would be enough to convince them of that."

"Where can we go?" Bram asked faintly. His little brother Joe was curled up against him in his own sleeping bag, fiercely concentrating on the Transformer in his hands. He didn't seem to be paying attention, but Steve was sure he was. "Where won't they think to look for us?"

"Out of the country would be best," Mike said matter-of-factly.

"We have to leave the country?" Amanda blurted out. "Mom! I don't wanna move! I wanna stay here!" Her little brother Joe didn't take his eyes off his Transformer as he methodically folded and unfolded it and then folded it again, but the corners of his mouth curved down and he started blinking rapidly.

"I know, honey," Dave quickly soothed her before Sarah could. "I know. None of us do. But we have to keep all of you kids safe, and the research we got from Howard Stark is really, really important. We're going to use it to save a lot of people's lives, and we can do that anywhere in the world. The important thing is to keep it far away from those men that attacked Mom and Steven. They wouldn't use it the way we would."

"Why can't we fight them?" Amanda demanded fiercely, sitting stock upright in her sleeping bag, fists clenched. "Why can't we fight them all?"

It took a long time to get her to understand somewhat and to calm down, and even though Amanda did most of the talking — and storming — as usual, it was clear that the other little ones who didn't fully know what was at stake were just as upset as she was at having their world suddenly turned upside down. Sammy asked a few questions of her own in a faintly trembling voice, while by her side, her brother Clint went sullen and quiet. Finally, the conversation began to peter out and the kids laid down in their sleeping bags to try to sleep.

The adults moved into the kitchen to continue their conversation without disturbing the children, and young Steven followed them and sat down at the table too, although he hadn't spoken up once all night and had that distant look in his eye he often got that made it clear he wasn't exactly on the same planet as the rest of them right now.

"Steven?" Peggy asked him gently, laying a hand on top of his after she had brought a steaming teapot to the table and Tien had taken it from her to pour for everyone. "Are you all right?"

Steven stirred slightly. "Yeah," he said softly after a beat. "I just... need to think."

He immediately fell silent again, and Peggy looked at him with concern for a long moment before turning back to Sarah and Dave.

"You should come to England with your father and I," she said. "I have contacts who could help you jump through the hoops you need to get your clinic established."

Sarah nodded slowly. "I've been thinking about that, too. The kids have at least been there, and they know it's home for you, Mom; maybe they wouldn't feel too out of place."

Dave nodded, too. "We could get them into a new school and not worry about a language barrier. That would simplify things."

"Your mother told the real estate agent she wanted a small home with a big garden," Steve said, looking at Peggy with a wordless question in his eyes, and she nodded firmly in response. "He told her that would be hard to find. Maybe what we need to get is a big home with a big garden. A house big enough to hold your family, too."

"Oh, Dad, we're not gonna crash your retirement," Sarah said quickly. "You and Mom deserve some peace and quiet."

"Well, we would like some peace and quiet," Peggy said with a wry smile, glancing at Steve. "But perhaps not too much of it. We were both afraid it would be dull and lonely, so far from all of you."

"Mom, we have five kids," Sarah reminded her with a faint laugh. "Peace and quiet is non-existent for our family."

"Bram will be moving out in a matter of months," Dave pointed out dryly. "And Maggie won't be far behind."

"Yes, but they're the quieter ones!" Sarah objected. "And Steven here. I can't make any promises about Amanda or Joe."

"After all these years, you don't think we're used to a little happy chaos?" Peggy asked with a smile.

"As a practical matter," Steve added, "it would be safer for us to be together. It would be pretty difficult for someone to ransack your lab when there's an entire family of you-know-whats living on top of it."

"I'm not going to put the lab anywhere near our home again," Sarah whispered as strenuously as she could without waking any of the children in the next room.

"Not so fast," Mike broke in. "I know you're worried about security, sis, and you're right to be considering what just happened, but putting the lab anywhere else would be a mistake. I can help you make it more secure this time around. Between your family and Mom and Dad, someone will be home almost all the time. And when you aren't, Harrison and I can set up a watch. He needs practice standing guard anyway, to get him ready to work for Stark Industries."

"You're going to move to England, too?" Sarah asked.

Mike looked at Tien, and they both shook their heads. "Maybe Vietnam," Tien said. "We've talked off and on over the years about doing that; I wanted the kids to know my parents better and to learn more about where we came from, but we never could make it work with Mike's job. He needed to be in D.C."

"I still need to be in D.C.," Mike said. "I can't think about quitting now; I have Clint Barton and Maria Hill to think of. It won't be long before they join S.H.I.E.L.D., and I'm not gonna leave them in the hands of Hydra for their training." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "But with the portals, maybe that opens up more possibilities for us. Maybe I could live in Vietnam and still work in D.C. Hydra would find it pretty hard to follow me home that way."

Sarah half-smiled. "Mike, I am not going to shuttle you back and forth to work every day."

"I wasn't suggesting it." Mike shrugged. "Seems like Bram's doing pretty well with his sling ring. Maybe I should talk Natty or Harrison into taking it up, too."

"Why the kids?" Tien asked him blankly.

"Why not?" Mike asked just as blankly. "I don't have the time to tackle something like that. I'm gonna come home from training agents every day only to work with Harrison as soon as I get home."

Tien gave him a funny look. "Well, why can't I learn how to make portals?"

Mike paused, and then raised his eyebrows. "Well... I can't think of any reason why you couldn't."

"I'm the one who's home all the time, and available to shuttle people around," Tien pointed out.

"That's true."

"I'll talk to Master Mahika," Sarah said with a smile. "If the Masters of the Mystic Arts will give us another sling ring, I'll teach you myself."

At that moment, a fizzing, hissing sound started up, and half of them instinctively jumped to their feet as a portal unexpectedly opened up right behind Sarah. She whirled, one hand instantly digging into her pocket for her own sling ring, but she hadn't even gotten it out yet before Steve reached over and stopped her hand.

A woman was standing in the center of the portal, hand upraised gracefully to sustain it: a bald woman dressed in silver-gray robes and a midnight blue obi.

"Ancient One," Steve said, slowing releasing Sarah's hand. Everyone at the table suddenly went quiet and still.

"Captain. May I come in?" she asked.

"Please."

The Ancient One stepped through the portal, and they all caught a glimpse of a stone courtyard behind her filled with robed men and women before she closed the portal with a practiced gesture. Then she stood in the kitchen, hands clasped behind her, gazing serenely at the seven of them.

They stared back, mesmerized; even young Steven had woken up from his reverie and was looking at her with open fascination. They all knew the stories, of course, but only Steve himself had ever seen her. Still, Peggy was the first to snap out of it and ask her politely: "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely," the Ancient One said with a small smile. As Peggy moved toward the stove, the Ancient One surveyed the rest of them one by one, and when she got to Tien, she reached down into the folds of her obi, produced a sling ring, and silently offered it to her.

"Thank you," Tien said, looking slightly intimidated as she took it, whether by the sling ring or the Ancient One herself, Steve wasn't sure.

"Use it responsibly," the Ancient One said. "Listen to your teacher."

"I will," Tien promised.

The Ancient One nodded in approval. "Well," she said, next looking over Steve with interest. "You look a little different from the last time I saw you."

"You haven't aged a day."

She smiled the smile of a woman who's been told that before. "Thank you," she said with perfect sincerity. Then the she leaned back slightly to look through the doorway into the living room, where the grandchildren were sleeping, and studied at them for a long moment with a cocked head.

"I thought you came back to have a family, Captain," she said in faint amusement, "not start your own tribe."

"This is how the rest of us live forever," he said. "And besides-"

"We like children," Sarah finished readily.

"We like children," Mike agreed.

Peggy handed the Ancient One a cup of tea, and Dave quickly pulled over a chair for her. She sat down, and the rest of them followed suit.

The Ancient One took a sip of tea and her eyes slid shut as she let out a small appreciative sigh. "If you want good tea, go East or ask a Brit," she said with a cadence that suggested she'd said it many times before, and Peggy's lips curved up in acknowledgement of the compliment.

"I came to offer our services," the Ancient One said then, setting the cup down on its saucer carefully. "I understand you need to move your households, and quickly. England and Vietnam, was it? I think we can help with that."

Steve held her eyes for a long moment. "You knew this would happen," he said.

The Ancient One regarded him coolly. "I knew it might."

"You knew I would try to save Howard, and you didn't try to stop me?"

"I knew you would fail," she said calmly. "And so did you. But you saved what most needed to be saved, and that's what matters. I told you before, Captain: I would never have let you come back if I thought you would muddle things." She looked at him a little regretfully. "I'm sorry for the price your family paid. But you've been doing this long enough that I don't think you need me to tell you: the point is not to eliminate suffering. What we can sometimes do is give it meaning. I trust you will find some way to turn this to good."

"We're working on that."

The Ancient One nodded seriously. "Good. As you know, I've dedicated my life to using magic for rather... cosmic pursuits." She looked at Sarah and Dave. "You've chosen to follow a smaller, more intimate calling. But perhaps no less important." She took another sip of tea. "There are sometimes students we train at Kamar-Taj who find they are not suited for the type of work we do at the Sanctums," she continued. "There's no shame in it; it's a hard life. When you're ready, I can put you in touch with them. Perhaps you can help them find meaning by offering to teach your trade."

"I would like that," Sarah said immediately, looking to Dave for confirmation. "We would like that."

The Ancient One stood up. "I'll have my people clear out your houses now. We have ways to speed the process up. It should be done in a few hours, and we can store everything until you have your new homes ready."

She opened a portal, and once again they saw the stone courtyard at Kamar-Taj and the robed Masters of the Mystic Arts waiting there. The Ancient One gestured for Sarah to precede her into the portal. "You need only open a portal to each home once, doctor," she said. "Once the Masters have the visualizations and you've given them their instructions, they can take it from there and you can rest. You've had a difficult day, and you have children to care for."

Sarah stepped into the courtyard, followed by the Ancient One, who glanced back before she closed it.

"Be careful, child," she said soberly, and it took them all a moment to realize she was addressing young Steven directly. "Moderation in all things. Don't forget the difference between goodness and greatness... and which one the world needs most."

The portal snapped shut, and she was gone. Steven blinked owl-like, and then looked at his father questioningly.

"Let's get you to bed now," Dave said, putting his arm around Steven. "We should all go to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day."

They cleared up the tea cups and trickled off to bed, the adults taking the three bedrooms in the safe house and Steven carrying his own sleeping bag to join the other grandkids sleeping in the living room. Before long Sarah returned through a portal. The lights were switched off and the house grew silent, and one by one they drifted off to sleep.

Mike was deep in sleep when he was awoken by a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw Steven standing there by the bed, illuminated by a thin bar of light coming from the hallway.

"Uncle Mike?" he asked softly.

"Yeah?"

The hallway light behind him silvered Steven's outline, leaving his face in shadow. "Will you teach me how to fight?" he whispered.

"Sure, kid," Mike said sleepily. "If your parents say yes. Harrison will be glad to get a new partner to work with."

"Is he good?" Steven asked.

"Harrison? Yeah. Makes his old man proud."

Steven lifted his chin slightly. "Then I'm gonna get as good as him. Better."

Mike smiled slightly as Tien slept on beside him. "That's the attitude. Harrison will like that. Natty will be moving out soon, and your brother and sister don't have quite the thirst for fighting that he does. He was worried he would run out of good challenges."

"And once I am, no one will be able to do all that to me again," Steven said under his breath, almost to himself.

Mike was quiet for a moment, knowing what he meant. "Fights are unpredictable, Steven," he said at last. "No one can ever be sure, and overconfidence is dangerous. But I can give you a good shot. If you stick with it, if you really work hard and use what you've got, you could become a handful for even the best fighters in the world."

"That's what I want," Steven whispered.

For some reason, Mike found himself frowning a little. "You sure?"

"Yes," Steven said firmly. "I'm sure."

January 31, 1992

They drove from the London Sanctum to their new home in Winchester, England by caravan: the moving truck in front, followed by Sarah and Dave's family in a minivan, and then Peggy and Steve in their new car with Natty, Sammy and Clint in the backseat, trailed by Mike, Tien and Harrison in a taxi behind them.

It would have been easier to have the Masters of the Mystic Arts move all their things directly into the new house on Merryweather Lane, of course, but they had quickly realized they needed to bring a moving truck to maintain appearances for their new neighbors. Mike and Tien's family had already settled into their new home in Qui Nhon, but had come along to help the rest of them with moving day. With two households worth of things to unload, they would need all the muscle they could get.

The moment Peggy had pulled away from the curb — Steve was only too happy to let her drive today, rather than risk everyone's lives figuring out how to drive on the left side of the road — Natty leaned forward and handed Steve a cassette tape.

"Will you play that, Grandpa?" she asked.

"No!" Sammy and Clint groaned together. Steve looked at the label and realized it was a language instruction tape. It made sense: while all of Mike and Tien's kids had learned some Vietnamese from their mother at home, they weren't fluent enough to be confident in their new schools just yet.

"Quit whining," Natty told her siblings in a good-humored way as Steve popped the tape into the player. "This is making us all grow and learn and stretch. That's a good thing."

And so they listened to vocabulary lessons for the hour and a half it took to get to Winchester, and by the time the car stopped, Steve and Peggy could say "Nhà vệ sinh ở đâu?" right along with the best of them.

"Whoa," Sammy breathed out as they all got out of the car, grateful to stretch their legs again. She gazed up in awe at the house. Peggy and Steve had already seen it, of course, and last week after the paperwork was finalized Sarah and Dave had brought their kids to tour the house and pick out their bedrooms, but this was the first time Mike and Tien's kids were seeing it.

It was a beautiful cottage, two stories high and covered over with ivy, with lots of little gabled windows peering out. The grounds around the building were extensive, and although the wintery gray of the gardens was now broken only by the occasional evergreen bush or tree, when spring came it would be a riot of color, all roses and delphinium and foxglove. Peggy had seen the photos of the gardens in their prime, and had confessed to Steve that she could hardly wait the months it would take to see it in person.

Sarah and Dave's family had spilled out of their minivan, too, and Mike was paying the taxi driver and sending him on his way. For a few minutes there was a lot of excited running around and exploring of the grounds by the kids.

"This is pretty fantastic," Natty said, looking around with a wide smile. She was wearing red lipstick. She didn't used to wear lipstick, Steve realized... until after she had met Tony. It suited her, though. She looked more than a woman than a girl, but then again, that's what she was.

"Don't be jealous," Maggie answered with a smile of her own. As usual, the two of them had been walking around the grounds with their arms linked together, acting more like sisters than cousins. "You guys get to live right by the ocean, and in a nice warm climate. I can't wait to visit you. Especially at this time of year." She shivered a little in her coat.

"Isn't this close to the ocean, too?" Natty asked curiously.

"About half an hour's drive," Peggy confirmed. It was one of the things Steve had hoped for; almost everywhere he had lived in his lifetime, whether it was Brooklyn, New Jersey, Bethesda or even the brief period he had hunkered down in Scotland during his time in exile, he had never been far from the sea.

Some of the kids started agitating to go into the house, but first the adults quickly gathered them all together by the flagpole in front of the house, and they had a solemn little ceremony with the flags that not too long ago had been flying over Steve and Peggy's home in Bethesda. This time, though, the Union Jack went on top, and the Stars and Stripes fluttered below it as Steve and Peggy pulled the rope together to lift them up into the breeze. Everyone applauded, looking up as the flags waved in unison in the cold January sky.

"God save the Queen, and God bless America," Peggy said briskly, and they all laughed at the inversion of the phrase they had always said to each other during their sometimes-over-the-top celebrations of the Fourth of July over their years.

Steve leaned over to kiss Peggy. "Welcome home, sweetheart," he said warmly.

"Welcome to Headquarters, you mean," she said after kissing him back. The entire basement of the house had been set aside to be renovated as a lab for Dave and Sarah, and Mike was already making plans to install extensive security measures onto the property with Harrison's help.

"It's been a long time since I lived at Headquarters," Steve said, and then admitted: "I've kinda missed it." He brushed a silver wave of hair back from her face. "You ready for retirement?"

"How much of a retirement will it be?" she asked wryly. "I have my memoirs to write. We have Tony Stark to keep an eye on. All these children to finish raising. And in 20 years-"

"-I'll wake up from the ice."

"And then the Hydra uprising and the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Peggy added, swiftly changing the subject. She didn't like thinking of him in the ice. She never had. "We'll need to get ready for that. Once Project Insight gets off the ground, I suspect it will be rather like with the Pyms and the Starks; our family was probably involved somehow. Helping save what needs to be saved. Quietly."

"We'll all be ready by then," Steven said, breaking into their conversation unexpectedly, expression serious. "We'll all be old enough to help."

"And speaking of which," Harrison said with a spark of eagerness in his eyes, "I finally figured it out!"

When everyone looked at him in a questioning way, he added: "About what to call our response team, remember? I just realized: what we really need is to be named by the master of nicknames. The titan of name-calling himself: Tony Stark."

Bram scoffed. "What, you wanna go explain to him who and what we are, and wait for him to give us a nickname?"

"We don't need to," Harrison said with uncharacteristic seriousness. "He already named us a long time ago. Think about it. The Avengers, they did their best work after the fact, right? After the attacks had already begun. Us, we already know what's coming. We start our fights before the bad guys start theirs. You know what that makes us?"

"What?" Steve asked.

Harrison smiled triumphantly. "The Prevengers."

TO BE CONTINUED

Author's note: I would love to know what you think of this new turn in the story, and where you think it might go next. Let me know in the comments!