Avengers: Generations

by imaAvenger

The Avengers fought and won the battle for peace. HYDRA and A.I.M. fell. The world moved on, and so did the team. Peace entered the world and normality entered their lives as they began to go their separate ways. Now 2042, the Avengers' children are faced with returning evil. Their lives have been woven together by a force known only as Destiny.

15. Chapter 13: Now This

A/N: Welcome back to another exciting chapter of Avengers: Generations! Not to be confused with the comic series, Generations, which is not the same thing in the slightest. ANYWAY, we're dropping back in on our Princess who we last saw making devious plans for escape. She's gonna be in so much trouble.

Disclaimer: Again, not like the Marvel comic series Generations. Very different xD

Chapter 13: Now This

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Asgard Castle, Asgard. Saturday, September 20th, 2042. Before Dawn.

Valda paces up and down alleys between bookshelves of the library. The sun has not yet risen and the last remnants of starlight shine through the stained-glass windows. She clutches the dark green book in her hands, running over the plan in her head for the thousandth time. She's been awake for hours now in preparation for her secret adventure. She dressed as if ready for a normal day of training, sword attached to her hip, with the addition of a cloak and a fully loaded knapsack. All I have to do is stick to the plan and everything will be fine…sure Father will be furious, and he'll never let me out of his sight again, but it's a price I'm willing to pay, she thinks. Seeing Midgard for the first time ever will be worth the lectures and groundings she's sure to receive once Thor realizes she's gone. Her icy eyes examine the page she bookmarked a few days ago, making sure every detail of the artifact she plans to "borrow" from the vault has been copied to the piece of parchment on the table. Speaking of, she remembers, looking at the windows as the tiniest ray of sunlight begins to peek through. She closes the book and breathes out a heavy sigh. Now is the time. The Princess hides the book away on the shelf it belongs to, as not to draw attention to it when she leaves. She folds and tucks the copied page into her knapsack. Her master escape plan isn't all that complicated, but she doesn't want anyone to figure out what she's doing right away. Besides, when Thor finally does discover how she is traveling through the realms, he won't be happy. At all.

Valda quietly leaves the library, sneaking down the hallways and waiting for the night guards to pass her as they swap out with the morning crew. She maneuvers past them, taking extra care to be missed entirely. Once she reaches the Great Hall, a lengthy corridor leading straight to the throne room, she stops. There are four men guarding the doorway, and in order to get where she's going, she must cross this hall. There is no way around it, no bypass. No detour. The guards must've already changed for the morning…or they haven't changed yet. One of the guards has dozed off while another, obviously trying to stay awake, nods his head up and down. The other two are asleep altogether, slumped against the throne room entrance. Valda smirks. This is perfect, she couldn't have timed this any better. She waits and watches as the guard still fighting to stay alert finally slumps down, fast asleep like the other three. Valda seizes her opportunity and quietly sprints across the hallway, landing on the other side without any of the four guards even flinching. She looks back at them to double check her surroundings but they're dead to the world. Normally, I'd report this laziness to Sif, but they work in my favor today.

Valda whips around and weaves down the halls, venturing further into the corridors of the palace which are dark and still this time of morning. She passes a few guards on her way, taking advantage of the shift change. The Princess peeks around corners and glides her way down staircases leading her downward, into the bowels of Asgard's castle. She's getting close to the artifact vault now the only problem is Aric.

Aric is always a problem.

Aric is the daytime guard to the artifact vault, and unfortunately, due to his honest nature, he's always early for his shift. And Valda hadn't thought through how she planned to deal with him. I was hoping I wouldn't have to, she thinks, knowing full well he'll be at his post in a few minutes. The sun isn't even up yet, but Aric will be there. Valda was sure that's what drew her to him and annoyed her beyond reason…his reliability. She stands, paused by a corner only a few hallways away from the vault. She has no plans of giving up now, but when faced with the boy guard, her resolve may parish.

"Valda, what are you skulking around so early for? And why are you dressed like that? Is that a knapsack?" Eira says.

Valda jumps, startled. She whips around and throws her hand over Eira's mouth, grabbing her shoulder and whisper-yelling at her. "What are you doing down here?"

Eira's expression switches from confused, to more confused. She shoves the Princess's hand away. "I could—no, I should ask you the same thing."

"I uh…I'm—I'm…" Valda stumbles for words. Her best friend's bright green eyes stare a whole into her, but she can't tell her the truth…can she? It's not like this girl is her best friend since childhood whom she trusts with all her secrets with or anything…not at all.

"Valda, answer me this instant."

The Princess sighs in defeat. She didn't even make it out of the palace. "Eira, you wouldn't like the answer. And besides, what are you even doing here so early and so far down in the castle?"

"My lessons with her Majesty are in a little while, but I saw someone shadowy slinking around, so I followed them. That slinker happened to be you…and do not change the subject, Valda." Eira waits expectantly, giving Valda plenty of space and time to tell her what shenanigans are going on. "Don't tell me you came all the way down here to meet with Aric."

Valda wonders if this could be her way out, but instead of an excuse, Eira showing up could be her solution to another problem. "Eira, what if I told you I was about to run away using an artifact from the vault?"

Eira blinks, staring at Valda for a moment, giving her a chance to retract her question. "Please tell me you are jesting. Valda, tell me you do not mean it…" A nervous smile pulls at Valda's lips as she refuses to lock eyes with her best friend. "Valhalla above, you cannot be serious?!"

Valda shushes her, begging her to keep her voice down. "Yes, I'm very serious. I know it's a suicide mission, but Eira I must. I cannot stay in this palace a day more. I must escape—if only for a moment."

"A moment is all you will get because the moment you step foot out of Asgard, Heimdall will alert your Father and he will drag you home," Eira says. She's right. She's always right. However, today will be one of many days Valda ignores her wisdom.

"Eira, please listen to me…I know this is a fool's errand and I will surely lose any trust my Father places in me, but another year has passed, and it has been another year I have stayed trapped in Asgard." Valda meets her friend's eyes, Eira's brow furrowed in concern. "Father is occupied with whatever he did or did not find in Jotunheim, so all I have is right now."

"But don't you wish to know what happened? What if war approaches? Asgard will need its Princess here," Eira says. She takes Valda's hands in hers, waiting for her response.

"I want to know…but if it is war, then I may never get this chance or have this courage again."

"I doubt that," Eira smirks.

Valda smiles, but it escapes her. "It is today or not at all. Jarle has given me his pass on this."

Eira releases her grip on Valda's hands. "Your brother is…at ease with this?" Valda nods. "That's…unexpected," Eira pauses, staring at Valda for a moment before sighing heavily. "What artifact do you plan to use?"

Valda pulls her knapsack around and searches through it. She pulls out a piece of paper neatly folded and shows it to Eira. The lady in waiting unfolds the page, carefully reading and examining the drawing. "Valda…the Traveler's Medallion? Isn't it cursed?"

"Yes, but so is every other artifact in there. Besides, the Traveler's Medallion is not just any old, cursed relic, the user must be pure of intention. It is supposed to grant you passage to the place your heart most longs for, and if your intentions are pure, there will be no curse. I've looked into it, trust me."

Eira listens, taking in what her Princess says before returning the page. "So with the curse accounted for, how do you plan to sneak in and steal it, hm? The guard surely has changed over by now, and Aric is never asleep at his post."

Valda smiles at her friend and shoves the page back in her bag. "I was hoping I could get your help…you have been practicing sleep spells, right?"

Eira immediately shakes her head back and forth, reining in the want to yell. "Valda, no, I refuse to use magic on someone so that you can steal."

"I'm not stealing…I'm just borrowing."

"You are not convincing me this is a good idea." The two stare at each other. Green eyes and Icy blue locked in a stalemate.

Eira breaks and grunts. "Valda, I've only worked on sleep spells for a short time—I do not even have my slumbering whisper mastered yet. I could hurt him or worse, put him into an eternal sleep!"

Valda takes her friend by the hands. "But you won't because you are a fantastic sorceress who vigilantly practices every day and knows what she's doing."

"Saying such things does not make them true," Eira snaps.

"But they are true. Please, Eira…do this for me only once. And I will never ask them of you again."

"Can I get that on parchment?" Eira says. Valda continues to stare with those big, icy eyes. Those eyes that could freeze an army in its place with one wrong glance. Eira grasps Valda's hands tighter before caving. "I'll try. But I wish for it to be known that I knew this was a bad idea from the start."

Valda jumps and wraps her arms around Eira. "Noted!" she says, smiling. The Princess grabs Eira's hand and leads her to the public gateway to the relic's entrance. Common folk may only tour past this section of the corridor, never stepping past the archway. Valda herself has only been inside the vault once but remembers where the relic she needs is positioned. It's grouped with the less dangerous artifacts closer to the entrance, so she need only pop in and grab it. No special closure or case. The Traveler's Medallion is up for display. Making it the perfect relic to grab and go.

The two girls turn the corner and scan the entrance. Aric stands in his armor, clutching a spear, just as they suspected. However, Aric appears to be the only guard this morning. The artifact vault is home to many dangerous relics, but there is never one soldier guarding it alone.

"Valda, why is Aric alone? Isn't there usually another?" Eira whispers.

"Yes, but I do not see one…perhaps Odin in his slumber is granting me easy passage."

"I do not think that is it," Eira says, rolling her eyes.

Without hesitation, Valda sneaks up to the archway, taking in a deep breath before motioning for Eira to follow her around the corner. "Stay close behind me and when I give the signal, be ready to put a spell on him."

"What signal?" she whispers frantically.

Valda, however, is already approaching Aric. They exchange greetings, and like everyone else, wonders why the Princess of Asgard is all the way down here, this early in the morning. Valda uses this to tickle his pride and tells him she's here to see him, scooting in closer as she blocks Eira's figure from his view.

"I felt bad about the other day, when Sif found us. But since Father has returned, I've been busy eavesdropping on council meetings. I haven't had the chance to apologize for embarrassing you," Valda says. Her voice drips with insincerity, but Aric doesn't seem to notice. Eira inwardly gags as she waits for whatever signal she's supposed to wait for.

"You did not embarrass me, Princess, I was afraid I embarrassed you. Sif is your teacher after all and close with your father," he says. "I did not want you to get into trouble."

"Well…maybe I did a little, but I'm sure you'll make it up to me," Valda says. She reaches behind her slowly, grasping for Eira. When Eira realizes that must be her signal, Valda pivots away from Aric and before he knows what's happening, Eira covers his eyes with her hand and whispers unheard words to him. Aric falls limp to the floor as Eira recoils, bumping into Valda.

"Odin's beard, you did it!"

"I did it…I did!" Eira says.

Valda quickly lifts the hefty, wooden latch aside and pushes the doors to the relic room open, looking around frantically for the necklace she seeks. Eira, still in awe of her own magic, slowly walks in as Valda retrieves the Traveler's Medallion from its pedestal. Gently, the Princess wraps it in a cloth and hides it away in a pocket on the strap of her knapsack. Before Eira even realizes that their heist was a success, Valda grabs her hand and leads them out of the vault. She closes the doors behind her, reattaching the latch and propping Aric up, fashioning him to appear as though he fell asleep at his post. The young guard snores softly, and while guilt starts to pull at Valda's thoughts, she quickly tells Eira to follow her out. She doesn't have time to feel guilty about poor Aric getting caught in the crossfire. He's just taking a little nap—at least, that's what Valda trusts Eira's magic did.

They fast walk through the halls as Valda guides them towards the northern exit of the castle. They weave past guards and sneak by the warriors training early on the north fields, fields that are still covered in snow. All of Asgard is still covered in snow, but no one wants to talk about it, especially to Valda. Well I don't care anyway, she thinks as the two girls are almost to the outer walls of the palace. I'm going to Earth, so it's not my problem.

"Valda, must we go so far out?" Eira asks. She trails behind further and further with every glance Valda makes backwards.

"Yes, the Medallion needs space to open a portal," she says. They trudge forward a few more feet, until they are just outside the northern gates and close to the battlegrounds of old.

"Here." Valda halts her pace, Eira crunching on the snow right behind her.

"Is this far enough?" Eira asks.

Valda smiles and pulls the wrapped-up relic from her bag. A strong, harsh wind slips down from the base of the mountain not far from them. Valda needs to make this quick for Eira, she's not dressed for the weather on the northern front. She pulls out the page from her bag, studying it once more to make sure all the conditions are right to use the Traveler's Medallion. She places the artifact in the snow a few feet in front of her and kneels in front of it.

"Valda, are you sure about this? We can still turn back…I can make Aric think it was all a dream," Eira says. Her arms are wrapped around herself, and Valda can tell she's beginning to shiver.

"No, I've come this far. I won't go back now," she says. "All I have to do is tell the Medallion where I desire to go and then I'm gone. Please go ahead and go back to the palace. Act like you haven't seen me at all today."

"Valda, you know I cannot lie to your parents if they ask me where you are," Eira says.

"Then don't talk to my parents for the next few days." Valda turns to her and smiles, winking as she leans down to the necklace in the snow. "My heart's desire is to travel to Midgard. I wish to see Earth."

The two stare at the Medallion as they wait for some magical eruption in the snow to reveal a portal, but nothing happens. They wait…Valda re-words her wishes, but nothing happens. Valda nervously taps her fingers on her knees.

"Please, I wish to travel to Earth!"

"Valda…maybe the relic no longer works?" Eira suggests.

"No, it has to work! It's my only chance…please relic," Valda scoops it out of the snow and holds it close to her body. "Please take me to Earth."

"Valda," Eira rests her hand on the Princess's shoulder. Tears well in Valda's eyes as she clutches the Medallion, silently begging it to work. She grasps it tighter as she loses the fight to her tears, her body shaking but not from the cold. "Come now, my Princess, let's go back to the palace."

Eira turns towards the northern gate, but Valda stands frozen in the field. She pulls the relic away from her chest and looks down at it. She sighs. She should've known this was a stupid idea from the start. This would never work. The fates would never allow it. Nor Odin, nor Thor. This didn't work because by Valhalla, she will be trapped here the rest of her immortal life. Why? There didn't have to be a reason for her father to steal the joy from her life. She need only seek joy and there he would be to make sure she was miserable. Not Jarle, because he'll be King one day. Not that little dwarf of a baby sister because she's just a baby. Valda, because she, stuck in the middle of two useful children, will have no purpose other than to learn how to fight and courtsey to the court.

"I just want to be free," she whispers.

"Valda, please it is freezing out here and the wind is picking up. We need to return," Eira says. She turns back to Valda who has dropped the relic in the snow, a glowing green light humming from its emerald stone. Eira starts towards it, but Valda blocks her, waiting to see what happens.

The Medallion's glow flashes like a heartbeat, melting the weeks of snow layers around it in a perfect circle. The girls exchange concerned glances as their eyes dart back to the necklace, now flashing its emerald light uncontrollably. The light suddenly stops, and the Medallion begins to crack, beams of green light bursting from the cracks and into the dreary, morning sky. The emerald rays begin to swirl and circle above the Medallion, spinning together until a circle large enough to step though has formed. A portal.

Valda and Eira lock eyes. This is it, it worked—they're not sure how, but it worked. As concerning as this looks with the portal's ominous green hue, Eira nods to Valda, telling her to go now before something happens to make it stop. Valda nods and steps forward, sticking one foot though the portal. She looks back at her friend, her tear-streaked face smiling before she completely immerses herself in the portal.

"I'll see you soon, I guess," Valda says.

The moment her body is completely enveloped in the swirling green light, the portal bursts, beams of light streaking through the field. The wind has stopped, and the air is still though it was raging only moments ago. When Eira opens her eyes again, they land on the broken Medallion scattered in the snow. She walks over to the pieces and picks up what is left of the relic, stowing it away in the pockets of her cloak. She takes off back towards the northern gate of the palace walls, sneaking inside to pretend that nothing happened.

Inside the portal, Valda opens her eyes. The world around her is nothing like the snow-driven field she stood in seconds ago. She now stands in a space between spaces on a long and winding path of green light. She shifts her feet, wondering how she hasn't fallen through yet. The space beyond the road she finds herself on is scattered with stars and other portals, however disconnected from the main green pathway. Inside the portal reminds Valda of the space beyond the Bifrost, only, there is an end in sight. Not far ahead of her, the green path guides the Princess straight to another portal. The destination on the other side is bright and she can't make out the images through it, but she knows that's where she's headed. It must be…it must be Earth. The young Asgardian takes off towards the opening, bounding faster and faster. With every step on the path, a burst of light follows as she gets closer to her goal. It's almost in her reach now. Never mind the winding paths above and below her leading to other places in the Nine Realms, this light at the end of the ethereal tunnel is her destiny. No where else matters to her. She slows to a stop in front of the portal, huffing and puffing from her sprint. She reaches a hand up and stretches her fingers through the surface of the opening, feeling a warm wind on the other side. Valda smiles. She's scared and nervous and excited all at once, knowing this is a temporary happiness. It doesn't matter. She would trade her title, her riches, the clothes off her back for a day on Earth. Yet, with that running through her mind, she hesitates. She stands in front of a direct route to Midgard—to the only place she's ever wanted to go—frozen. Her hand falls to her side as she feels that warm breeze drift through the portal. She looks back to find that the portal she entered from has disappeared. Turning her attention back to the rift in space before her, she hears a whisper. No, something softer than that, speaking to her.

Why do you stand here? Go ahead…push through the boundary before I do it for you.

Valda looks at the starry blackness around her, searching for the source of the words, but nothing is there. There's nothing but space and paths of light leading to dead portals. But she feels something. She can feel a presence that wasn't there when entered…or was it? She wasn't paying attention earlier, but she feels an increasing need to step through the portal in front of her. Not to finally get to Earth, but to get away from whatever is trapped here with her.

You cannot escape me.

Valda wastes no time in jumping through bright light in front of her, landing in a grassy field on the other side. Her eyes take a moment to adjust to the intense sunlight as she slowly takes in her surroundings. Once she realizes she made it through in one piece, she looks back at the portal, still open and swirling green. She waves her hand through it, hoping it would disperse, but the rift is still intact. She slings her cape away to reveal a sword attached to her belt. She unsheathes it and slashes through the portal…but it isn't closing. The voice she heard, barely a voice at all beckons her.

Thanks for opening the door, it whispers in her mind.

Valda backs away from the portal, gripping the hilt of her sword tightly as she positions it to fight. This isn't exactly how she imagined any of this going…but beggars can't be choosers. A deep cackle escapes the portal, followed by a loud roar. Valda backs up further, making some space between her and whatever is about to come through that portal. A cool wind rustles her ivory curls as she takes a fighting stance.

This is not how I imagined my first moments on Midgard.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, Upper New York Bay. 9:45 am.

Daisy stretches an arm overhead while holding a full cup of coffee in the other as she steps out onto the bridge platform. Agents on either side of her offer a good morning or a hello, but Daisy can't help but wonder which of her bridge crew is wrapped around the little finger of the World Security Council. How high up in her organization does their grasp reach? Her conversation with General Pennington lurks in the back of her brain, a conversation to which she hasn't yet responded. While he holds her resignation hostage, she mulls over the immense opportunity he's placed before her. The gains much outweigh the loss, however, if she accepts his help not only will it put him at risk but solidify her defiance to the World Security Council…and Shield. It might be a risk worth taking, but I can't know for sure, she thinks as she sips her coffee.

"How's the outlook today, team?" she asks. A few agents speak up, offering her the weather report, an update on the repairs to Midtown, and some news clips from the mayor concerning the attack on Stark Tower.

"He's calling for a reinstatement of the Damage Control unit, and has generally made a fool of himself," Agent Phillips says, entering from behind. He joins Daisy on the platform, personally catching her up on the latest developments. The Director smiles at her young assistant as he prattles off about the mayor and offers statistics on repairs.

"I took the liberty of compiling a list of potential DC agents for your approval, sir," Phillips says. He makes a swipe across the holo-tablet in hands and a notification dings on Daisy's watch.

"Files received. I'll look at them later." Agent Phillips nods and takes a seat at his station to the right. "And when you get a chance, Director, Dr. Banner wants to talk to you. He said the Gamma Unit is making progress with his son's condition."

She nods. Today seems normal enough. Just routine check-ins, keeping an eye out for anything fishy, monitoring the comms. Normal. Knowing Shield however, odds are they won't stay that way. Something is bound to come up, or maybe Daisy is paranoid because she's practically going behind everyone's backs and today will be perfectly quiet. Yeah, perfectly quiet, she thinks. She sips on her coffee while she makes her rounds, checking people's stations and taking a glance down at the bay. The water seems choppier than usual, but it's nothing for her to be concerned about…unless Namor has decided to emerge after years of silence. Nah, can't be anything that dramatic, she laughs inwardly. Daisy makes her way back to the center console and begins reviewing files from the last few days. Security footage, news articles, anything relating to the attack at Stark tower that could be useful in figuring out who's behind it all. Besides a name long forgotten, given by a man out of his mind in pain, they don't have much to go on. Still, even the mention of a Zemo spells trouble, and anyone who can command such a legendary family is even more terrifying.

With everything pulled up on her visible monitors, she has the kids case files pulled up on her watch. The damage was minimal compared to the size and power of the monsters. The kids know how to fight and damage control at the same time, making them skilled heroes…even if Rogers didn't want to be involved. Rogers, she thinks. She and Cassandra had a somewhat heated discussion about James the other day.

Cassandra had come back from her excursion with good news about Markus still wanting to help despite being the only one. She left a business card with Kassidy and didn't expect to reach Antonio but spoke to him on the phone anyway. She explained that he was on the fence but seemed like he would join with the right push. Daisy took notes and soaked in the information however, the conversation took a very different turn when James was asked about.

"It is in my professional opinion that James Rogers needs therapy more than he needs responsibility heaped on his shoulders. He just got home from war, he needs time to reacclimate to society and his family," Cass said. "Besides, there's an issue in our records concerning his crew that could mean a potential court martial if it's serious enough, and I have to get to the bottom of it."

"I agree, it could be serious, but I need him and his skills for this team. He's got a tactical advantage the others don't," Daisy reasoned. But Cassandra was insistent that he is not involved. They argued back and forth over whether or not James could even be considered as a backup. Cassandra declined.

"No, Daisy, you're not listening. I know we need his brains and his brawns, but he's a young man who's suffered a tremendous amount of trauma…he needs psychological care not more violence!"

"Why can't we do both? Cass, in order for this team thing to work off the grid, I need people like him who can take orders—and bonus, he can give them."

At this point in the conversation, Cassandra had had enough. "No! No, Daisy, as his doctor and his supervisor I forbid you from involving him. Don't call him, don't bring him in, don't even think about it."

Cassandra stormed off after that, and the two haven't spoken since then. Even with Dr. Lang's harsh warning, Daisy still hasn't ruled out bringing James in on a precautionary basis. At least until this issue with his battalion is sorted out. It can't be that bad. She pulls up his file on her watch while making it look like she's enthralled in her console. She scrolls for what seems like an hour looking for anything that would confirm Cassandra's concerns, but from what Daisy can see, there's nothing to suggest he's unfit—other than an outburst noted in Cassandra's medical log from Wednesday night. She noted in his file that he seems unwilling to comply with treatment, and that she'll have to use a different method for therapy. That doesn't sound awful like Cass made it out to be. I've been in similar situations and I'm okay…you know what, never mind. Maybe I should listen to her and just back off. I know some underground heroes that might be interested—if I pay them enough. I could always give Danielle a call.

The Director mentally starts making a list of potential contacts if worse comes to worse. With Pennington's offer, however, things could really turn in her favor.

No more than two seconds later, the bridge erupts with alerts flashing on every screen and an alarm screeching overhead. Agents scramble to assess the situation as Daisy stands to attention. She locks eyes on Agent Phillips who is furiously typing at his station.

"Will somebody cut that alarm off! I can't hear anything," she yells. The alarm quickly goes silent, but the alerts still flash red across every screen. "And will somebody tell me what's going on?"

Phillips is the first to shoot up from his chair. "Sir, we're getting security footage from…Oklahoma?" he pauses to confirm, "yeah, Oklahoma! Oh man…this doesn't look good."

"Get it on screen," she says. She waits but instead of footage of the rolling plains of the prairie, she's met with the Director of Sword's scowl.

"Also, there's a communication from Abigail Brand," Ian trails off as he sinks into his seat.

"Brand, you wanna tell me why you're interrupting my morning routine?"

Abigail Brand, green hair and all, huffs angrily. "I don't have time to explain the details, just know we have a situation at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere and we need special ops support, if you know what I mean." She means superhumans, but if superhuman power is needed, the situation must be dire. "My people are already on the ground and have a blockade formed, but this is too big for foot soldiers to handle. I'm sending in Commander Danvers and her team, but it takes a while to enter the atmosphere safely."

"What do you need from me?" Daisy says. Her hands hover over her screens at the ready to call in whomever they may need.

"I need whoever you've got who can fight an Asgardian monster," Brand says.

"I'm sorry…there are Asgardians?"

"Just one so far, but we also have a freaking mytho-monster throwing tractor-trailers at her—I assume she's Asgardian anyway. My men can't even get in close but she's holding her own…for now. However, with the way that thing is gunning for her, I don't suspect she'll last long."

Daisy thinks for a second. This could be the opportunity she needs to seal the deal on her secret team, maybe presenting them with another crisis will kick their instincts into gear like the incident at Stark Tower. It's a long shot, but she's willing to take it. However, she can't just show up with the easily recognizable offspring of the Avengers, no…she'll have to come up with a plan and fast. She begins typing a message on her screens while Brand continues to brief her on the situation.

"I'll have a special ops team on the ground before you can blink. Johnson out," Daisy says. Phillips cuts the transmission. The message she typed is sent. The bridge falls silent, not for long however before the Director calls her people to attention.

"Hill, you're with me, Phillips, you have the bridge. Everyone else, let's get a ground control unit ready to ship out." A few rows of stations ahead, a head pops up with a confused glare. The girl's dark brown eyes meet the Director, brow furrowed.

"You want me?" the girl says.

"Did I stutter, Agent Hill? You're with me." Director Johnson is already halfway to the exit, when she turns back, and no one has moved. She sighs heavily, internally groaning as she snatches a holopad from Phillips' desk.

"Is everyone hard of hearing this morning?! Hill you're with me, Phillips, take the bridge. Get security drones to the scene, let's go people!" Hill jolts up from her station and rushes to catch up with Daisy, while Phillips looks uncomfortable standing in the Director's place at the helm.

With only seconds to prepare, she made the best decision she could come up with for the desired outcome of this endeavor. For this to work, Daisy can't worry about peoples' comfort at the moment. She made her call because Agent Hill is one of her most trusted allies—next to Gabe Rogers—and Agent Phillips can handle the bridge. The roles could have been reversed, and that's probably what Hill is thinking, but she needs a woman of Hill's tactical expertise in case something goes wrong. Phillips has no field experience while Hill has been in the middle of most of Shield's campaigns the last five years. She's more than qualified, but the worried expression on her face as they walk together tells Daisy she might not feel that way. Lila Hill hasn't been back with Johnson's team for very long—she's been in China like many other Shield agents. However, she also has been on leave almost a year after returning home. A detail Daisy understands may make Lila feel unprepared for something this important, but her break has not lessened her skill. Her skill, however, is not the only reason she was chosen. Daisy needs Hill's diplomacy and discreteness, because she's about to bring her further into the fold than before.

They reach the elevator and upon entering, Daisy uses her watch to scan their cramped surroundings.

"A security sweep, sir? Is that necessary?" Hill asks. Daisy waits for the results which surprisingly come back clear. I guess the Council doesn't have every inch of this place bugged like I thought, she thinks.

"Unfortunately, it's very necessary," she says. She taps the earpiece holding onto her lobe, calling for Phillips. "I need you to transfer all the drone footage of the scene to my holopad."

The tablet chimes with a notification and she hands it to Hill. "I need you to analyze the footage and find me a pilot who can keep his mouth shut."

Hill examines the tablet the Director just shoved in her hands. "I think I have someone you can use."

"Good, have them ready to fly in ten. I also want Agent Quartermain on this," Daisy says. She looks down at her watch, hoping to see a reply from one of the kids, but nothing yet. The message she sent out while Brand was talking wasn't the most eloquent, but it got the point across.

"Sir, what's going on? Why such a small team? 'Cause from the looks of this footage, that monster is at least three stories tall," Hill says. The concern in her voice is audible, but Daisy overlooks it.

"Hill, do you remember the group I had on the Helicarrier last week?"

Hill nods. "Yeah, James was there. I didn't get the chance to talk to him."

"Right. I'm trying to turn that group of individuals into a team I can trust to investigate our little problem," Johnson says. Hills watches the Director tense a little, hoping she won't start tremoring.

"I'm assuming the Council disagreed with formal investigation?"

Daisy frowns. "They said it wasn't a big enough threat to waste resources on. And they refuse to admit that this group—whoever they are—were responsible for the attack on Banner and Stark Tower…but they're wrong...these people are way more organized than I previously thought. Which is why we need to act now. I already sent out a message to the kids in hopes they'll come."

Hill takes in her words, trying to see the situation from all angles. The Director is in a hard place and doesn't have a choice but to act out of secrecy and desperation. However, basing your hope on a group of people who have already told you they wanted no part of your idea already isn't a great idea.

"Director Johnson, I understand that your hands are tied with Shield's resources, and you can't exactly go behind the Council's back, but do you really believe this team will work out?"

Daisy looks down at her watch once more and notices a message from Markus Danvers. He's in and on his way. Daisy sighs a breath of relief. If she has Danvers, she can manage without the others.

"This isn't about what I believe or think, Lila. It will work…because it has to."

Better Breakfast Diner, Upper East Side. 9:57 am.

Pop music drifts overhead from a jukebox in the corner, filling the diner with electronic beats and hints of autotune. Markus doesn't seem to mind the lack of quality as he hums along, pouring tea from a pitcher for his patrons. The glasses fill to the brim with dark leaf juice, ice cracking and shifting. He watches the liquid pour from the pitcher, the stream taking different shapes as he tips it further. The deeper he investigates the tea, the more he loses his sense of reality.

Markus' thoughts go back again and again to Monday as images of the fight fill his head. The creature that threw him around and treated him like a rag doll appears, standing tall and dark in his mind. The spikes that line his spine seem to curl longer as Markus approaches him, the young hero glowing and sparkling like a jewel. He flies and swoops down, shooting the creature with rays of energy that throw him back. The adrenaline he felt then courses through him again now, his body giving off sparks of the power he holds within. He lands in front of the creature, ready to blow him away with the sheer force of his will, billowing green light enveloping his hands as he raises them to aim. He locks eyes with the creature, dead-eyed black to emerald-green. Yelling over the earpiece he forgot he was wearing startles him, followed by a loud bell.

Markus looks up as a lady walks in the door of the diner. I'm at work. He looks back to the glass in front of him. Tea overflows from the cup, spilling off the counter and on the floor. Markus quickly sets the pitcher aside and scrambles around for towels to clean up his daydream-induced mess.

"I'll be right with you!" he says to the woman as she takes a booth. Tea puddles at his feet now and spreads across the counter. He tosses towels down, stepping on them to soak up the dark liquid. He scrambles to wipe up the counter before it spreads too far. Mario rings a bell and sets down two full plates of omelets on the serving counter above him.

"Omelets up..." he pauses, watching Markus with hands full of sopping paper towels. "Marko, what'ja do man?"

"Nothing, I'm cleaning it," Markus says. He soaks yet another towel on the floor, while the cook shakes his head.

"Take these. Wait on the lady that walked in, I'll get Danny to clean it up," Mario says. He yells for his little brother, who minutes later, emerges from the kitchen and takes the wet towels from Markus.

"Thanks, bud." He pats young Daniel on his shoulder and pulls his order notebook from his apron pocket. Markus steps out from behind the counter with two plates in hand for an older couple in a booth in the corner. He delivers their meal and approaches the lady in the booth. He makes pleasantries and takes her drink order, not really paying attention as the older woman starts prattling off about how much he looks like her grandson. He smiles and nods as his customer service voice kicks into auto pilot, offering the occasional oh wow, or that's crazy. When the lady finally lets him get her drink, Markus' thoughts travel back to the attack. The mug of coffee she ordered barely makes it to her table alive as flashes of the fight mock him. I could've done better if mom had ever taught me to fight, he thinks. If she'd taught me anything for that matter.

His hands tremble as he places the mug in front of her. The lady must have noticed, and she gently touches her cold fingers to his hands.

"Young man, whatever it is, I hope you'll be okay," she says. A warm smile pulls at her wrinkled face, and Markus instantly wants to start crying. However, because he is not on break yet, he doesn't have time to cry. Instead, he returns her smile and assures her that everything is fine while taking her order. The lady continues talking to him long after he's taken her order. But he stands and smiles, thinking back to a couple of days ago when someone from Shield randomly visited him at work. She said her name was Doctor Lang, and that the Director still wanted his help—if he was willing. Markus couldn't contain his excitement and may have been a little over-zealous when agreeing, but how could he not be? Shield recognized his skill and his power, and wanted him on a special team? Who wouldn't be excited about that?

He smiles at the thought of becoming a full-fledged hero—with all the connections to people and resources who can answer the question he's been searching for all his life. Because if anyone knows anything about his mysterious father, it would be Shield. He barely notices the old lady has finally finished her story and lets him take her order back to the kitchen.

Behind the counter, Daniel has finished cleaning up Markus' mess and has disappeared back into the kitchen. As he hangs up her ticket on a clip for Mario to see from the kitchen, his phone dings. He pulls out his old, cracked holophone to see who could possibly have texted him. Part of Markus hopes it's Eagle Eye needing him for some stake out relating to their inaugural team up at the gas station. He instinctively reaches for his ribs—which are still sore, by the way—from said event. However, a little smirk appears on his face thinking about it. I can't believe I'm on a first-name basis with her. So cool, he thinks. Once he realizes he still hasn't checked his messages, he opens his phone…then drops it.

Did…did I just read what I thought I read? He snatches his phone off the floor before anyone notices or thinks something is wrong. His hands shake again, afraid to turn the phone over to see the screen. But his short attention span can't wait to see if it was real, so he flips it over. The screen shows a message bubble from a blocked out number. His eyes move too fast to read every word in the message, but he understands it's from the Director of Shield…and she needs his help.

He fumbles to put his notepad back in his apron pocket as he rushes back to the kitchen. I didn't think I'd be contacted so soon! He bursts through the kitchen doors, pulling Mario's attention away from scrambling some eggs.

"Mario, is there any way David can cover for me? I have an emergency and I need to leave, like, right now."

Mario swings a cast iron pan full of beaten eggs over a flaming burner. "Like, what kinda emergency? I'm pretty sure Davie's at football practice."

"Does it have to be a particular kind, it's just an emergency, man trust me, I need to go now!"

"Ya sick or somethin'?" Mario asks.

Markus growls in his throat. "Listen, I'm handing my stuff over to Danny. Your parents can reprimand me later." He exits the kitchen and hands his notepad and pencil over to Daniel, who appears to be skulking under the counters.

"Are you taking a break?" Daniel asks, taking Markus' pad.

"No. Emergency. Handle it for me!" Markus runs back through the kitchen and grabs his coat.

"But I'm too young to wait tables!" Daniel says, but Markus is already gone.

I have to call Kassidy…Eagle Eye! Oh wait, I wonder if they already called her too? He thinks. He rushes down the back alley behind the diner before taking to the skies in a burst of green light. He would never fly during the day, but all this anxiety and probable PTSD from the attack has had energy building in the pit of his stomach all morning. He has to find Kassidy because he's not about to do this by himself.

Grandperch Living, Apt. 412, Midtown. 10:03 am.

"No, no, no!"

Kassidy fumbles with her apartment key as she struggles to keep all her groceries from spilling in the hallway. She juggles and balances three brown paper bags loaded to the top in her arms while attempting to find the right key, then somehow unlock the door. She blames herself for waiting until the last minute to buy food. The last minute being three days after her mother arrived—unexpectedly early.

Bobbie was supposed to land on the Shield runway and Kassidy was supposed to be waiting in a taxi to pick her up. However, neither of these things happened and Bobbie showed up on her doorstep several days early from when they agreed. Kassidy wasn't mad about it…no, she was furious. She hadn't had a chance to clean or buy groceries because she was accidentally involved in an attack at Stark Tower that potentially ruined a lifelong friendship in the span of two hours. Between resting from the fight and endlessly trying to get Antonio to answer her calls, Bobbie arriving early was the icing on the anxiety cake.

The blonde somehow manages to shove the key into the keyhole and turn it, pushing the door open with her hip. She leaves the door wide open as she struggles her way to the kitchen and drops the bags on the counter. Her arms relax after the weight is lifted, blowing loose strands of hair out of her eyes. Now comes the fun part, unpacking. She walks around the counter to close the front door then returns, quickly unloading all her groceries and spreading them across the laminate countertops. She organizes them by category. Fridge, freezer, cabinets, bedside table snacks, she thinks as she sorts the items.

Once everything is clumped together, she starts tossing stuff into the refrigerator. She hastily drops bags of baby carrots and lettuce in the drawers while setting her milk and apple juice in the door. She slides yogurt cups to the back of the top shelf to make room for a six pack of energy drinks. Deli meats and cheese slices get thrown in the second drawer with a stick of salami, and fresh bananas are gently placed on the middle shelf next to a tomato and a bottle of yellow mustard. There, she thinks, slamming the fridge door so hard the freezer door above it opens. She crams frozen boxed meals in the tight, frozen space, no order to her stacking. Once the freezer is full, she shuts it and whips around to start on the cabinets. She shoves cereal boxes here and there, placing cracker boxes beside them.

Kassidy comes to the end of her groceries as she shoves the last bag of chips in the cabinet. With all that remains are snacks for her bedside table, she sets them aside as her mom is still asleep in her room. She walks into her small living room and falls over the arm of the couch. She stares at the ceiling a while, thinking about how blurry pictures of her have been plastered all over the net. Kassidy didn't realize the footage had been streamed across the country…or that everyone saw it. Rumors are already spreading about "new avengers" or "the beginning of a new era of villains". She never watches the news or reads anything current, but this was concerning her, so she looked around. The media was speculating all sorts of outlandish things about the attack, slowly building panic amongst the public, but Kassidy was more concerned with what people were saying about her. "Hawkeye wanna be," some reporter wrote. She huffs at the thought that people now know she exists. She was supposed to remain a shadow in the night, a silent vigilante of justice bringing down the crime rate on Long Island one petty criminal at a time. That's her thing—who she is as a hero. Yet, in a single afternoon all those years of hard work towards anonymity was dashed.

She sighs and rolls on her side, facing a dusty T.V. screen. That afternoon didn't ruin just her hero image, but probably her best friendship. Antonio hasn't answered any of her calls since then, but she can't blame him. She's kept this secret from him too long, but she wanted to tell him in her own way and in her own time. Odds are however, if it had been left to her, she probably would never have told him.

I was just trying to protect him, she thinks. I was trying to protect everyone.

She flips over on her back and pulls out a little business card from her pocket. She looks over the matte black card, reading over and over again the name shining in silver lettering. While preparing for her mom's arrival Wednesday, Kassidy thought she heard a knock at the door, but when she opened the door, there was no one there. On her door mat, however, was the same business card she holds in her hands now. She knows Shield is trying to recruit her for some team, but the world isn't falling apart. One mutant attack after years of peaceful times doesn't mean everything is going to erupt into chaos. That's just pessimistic thinking, and while Kassidy is familiar with that line of thought, she doesn't agree with this. She runs her fingers over Cassandra Lang's name.

Lang, of all people.

Kassidy remembers hearing stories and seeing headlines of Cass Lang as a teen hero growing up. She always inspired her to step out for what she believed in, even if she was young. Kassidy wasn't aware that Lang works for Shield, or that she is close to the Director. If Cassandra had been there during the meeting on the Helicarrier after the attack, Kassidy probably would have agreed to being on the team. As someone she looks up to, she would do anything Cassandra asked of her.

Creaking floorboards sound near the doorway to her bedroom. Kassidy tucks the business card away and tilts her head towards her mother, who stops just shy of the living room to stretch.

"Morning, mom," Kassy says, sitting up on the couch.

"Morning," Bobbie yawns. She looks into the kitchen and notices paper bags on the counter. "Did you get up early to get groceries?" she asks, a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

Kassidy rolls her ocean eyes. "I didn't have anything else to feed you, and I can't afford anymore take out."

Bobbie chuckles and strolls into the kitchen to get some coffee started. She clanks around while Kassidy pulls out her holophone and glances through her notifications, searching for any sign that Antonio has answered her or at the very least, any word from James on how he's doing, since he's not answering either.

"Still haven't heard from Howie?" Bobbie calls from the kitchen. Kassidy's weighted sigh is enough of an answer. "Listen Birdie, you have to give him some time, okay? This is a pretty big secret you kept from everyone."

"I know, but I just wish things had been different. Everything was out of control," she says, flopping over on the couch. "Speaking of, how did you know anyway? You live on the other side of the country."

Bobbie laughs as the coffee pot burrs to life. "I'm a Shield Agent, Birdie. You really think I didn't put two and two together when Daisy sent me files about an 'Archer' on the streets? And I know you, you're just like your father so it wasn't far out to assume it was you. Just because I'm hanging out over the Pacific doesn't mean I don't keep tabs on my girl."

"Of course you do," Kassidy says, rolling her eyes.

"This isn't my first rodeo, kid. I can't tell you how many times I had to go track down your father in the dead of night in some alleyway when we lived in Cali because he got into a fight with some mutant. He was always getting into trouble," Bobbie starts, pausing as the memories pull her lips into a smile. "He couldn't sit still, and it's not because he was bored, it's because being with the Avengers changed him. He couldn't sit still anymore knowing he could help people."

Bobbie comes around the corner with two mugs in hand, steam floating off the tops. She hands Kassidy a mug that reads "World's Best Boss" while Bobbie's appropriately has a painting of a Mockingbird on the side.

"Clint and I moved to the West Coast in the middle of a lot of…unrest. The state's open doors to Mutants made people a little uncertain. People were scared and prejudiced against them, and your dad wanted to help, just like you do here in New York. You're dad tried to keep what he was doing a secret for a little while too. I know that your intentions are good, and you're doing some great work, Birdie. But think about it, how long have you kept this from Antonio?"

"Three years," she says, hiding behind her coffee mug.

"That's three years you've kept a whole other part of your life locked away from your BFF. Can you blame him for needing some time to process?"

"You're right, and I know you're right, but I just want to talk to him and explain things in my own words, you know?" Kassidy a sip of her bitter coffee, taking in its warmth. "It's not fair that he found out the way he did…I just don't want him to hate me."

Bobbie smirks. "I doubt he hates you. Give it some time. He'll come to you."

Kassidy sinks a little further into the couch, clutching her Best Boss mug close to her chest. Of course Bobbie is right. She always is, but it doesn't make it any easier for Kassidy to wait until Antonio feels ready to talk. She wants to talk to him now and fix everything now. But for fear of pushing him further away…she'll wait. She'll keep her holophone charged and close by in case her phone dings with a notification and it happens to be Howie, ready to talk. Hopefully it'll be soon because she's not sure she can wait to hear what he has to say much longer.

Her heart stops as her phone chimes within seconds of her wandering thoughts. It's just a coincidence, right? There's no way it's Antonio. She looks at her mom for affirmation.

"Don't look at me," she says.

Kassidy snatches her phone off the coffee table. She feels a mix of disappointment and anxiety as she reads a message that is definitely not from Antonio. The number is blocked, but the message is not a wrong number. It was sent to her. Her eyes scan over the words, and her face must give away the shock because she feels her mom's hand on her arm.

"What's up?"

"I think…I think Director Johnson texted me for help," she says.

They stare at each other for a minute, Kassidy searching her mother's eyes for some sort of point in the right direction. Sure, she's an adult and can make her own decisions, but if she walks out of that door to go help Shield, does that make her part of some team? Does this mean she's choosing to step into the light and work alongside others? Just as her thoughts begin to drown out her ability to decide, her mom's watch chimes.

"What does it say?" Kassidy asks.

Bobbie shakes her head, her brow furrowed tightly. "It's from Shield. Something about a situation in Oklahoma. They're warning all field Agents to be on standby."

Kassidy jolts up from the couch, almost spilling her coffee as she slams it on the table, running into her room still clutching her phone. As quickly as humanly possible, she changes clothes and gathers her gear. She runs back into the living room fully Eagle Eye, with her mother's goggles hanging around her neck and her father's bow on her back.

"I take it your message was about the same thing?" Bobbie asks with a smirk.

"I think I have to do this..."

Bobbie sets her cup on the coffee table and stands from the couch. "Are you sure this is what you want? You know you don't have anything to prove."

Kassy lets out a breath and nods her head. "I know. And I'm not trying to prove anything, but maybe if I work with the Director, things will be better. She has resources I could never get on my own. Besides, I can't hide in the alleys of New York forever…right?" Her question was more like asking for approval. Like this was a good move to make and she's not being impulsive about it. "Right?"

Bobbie smiles. She meets her face to face and adjusts Kassy's goggles to fit over her eyes just right. "This is your choice, Birdie."

They lock eyes for a moment, and Kassidy smiles. She wraps her arms around her mom for a quick hug before she bolts out fire escape and up the side of the building.

"Don't wait up!"

She quickly pulls her phone out as she vaults onto the rooftop, dialing the phone number of a friend. She holds the phone to her ear, jumping from one rooftop to the next as she heads towards Lower Manhattan. Before she can utter a word over the phone an excited voice bombards her with questions.

"Kassidy! Did you get the same text message? I'm assuming since you're calling me you got the same message, but OH MY GOSH are we about to become actual superheroes?! I mean, you already are but like—"

"Markus, slow down! Yes I got the same message and yes I'm on my way to the location, are you?"

Markus Danvers audibly squeals on the other end of the line. "YES! I'm almost there! Wait, do you need a lift?"

"That sounds awful but yes," she says, ending the call. She comes to a halt and sends Markus her location. Within seconds, a blaze of green light comes whizzing towards her. Oh boy, here we go.

Stark Tower 10:07 am.

Antonio sits at his work bench, hands folding together over his mouth. His brow is furrowed deep in thought as he stares at his phone sitting on the table in front of him. His electric blue eyes narrow at the dark screen, waiting for anything to come through. He has received neither a text or call from Kassidy this morning. Not one. Whereas in the past week he has been harassed non-stop by her. She's called him more times this past week than she has this whole year. But not a single notification with her name on it today.

It's still kinda early for her, maybe she's not up yet. But her mom is staying with her, so surly she's up already, he thinks. He huffs a heavy sigh and pushes back from the table. He's been sitting in his lab waiting by the phone all morning. He'd finally thought of what he wanted to say to Kassidy and was going to give her a piece of his mind—the guilt-trip of the century! But he wasn't about to call her first, nor did he think he would need to, considering how frequent her calls have been. Nay nay, however. Not today it would seem. He paces around the small space his dad annexed him a few years ago for personal projects. This morning he was tasked with doing an internal security sweep of all the secondary net programs…menial work. Most secondary programs don't even need security because they basically just make sure stuff stays active when everyone has gone home.

Antonio rolls his eyes while he paces the room, halfway wanting to go find his father and ask for another task before he's bored to tears. He stops his pacing for a moment and grabs his messenger bag. He refiles through it for a moment, pulling out a piece of unfinished armor plating. He sits down at another table across the room, taking some tools in hand to tinker with the wiring underneath. The inside of the plate glows and changes with every touch of the tiny needle in Antonio's hand. The plate's smaller yet still connected pieces expand, then retract to its original form. The plan for his armor is for it to completely retract into a single, wearable piece of armor, like Tony's briefcase suit…but smaller. However, something that intricate takes time to design and program. He wanted to have the whole suit finished by the end of the year, ready for a trail run. However, with the rate things are going now, that seems more like a wish than reality.

Antonio finally hears a ring coming from his phone. He drops everything in his hands and runs to his workbench, almost tripping over his own feet. He stops, just out of eyesight of who sent him a message, straightening up his shirt like he's about to video call...which, he isn't. It's just a text. He hesitantly reaches for the phone, not sure if he can remember everything he rehearsed earlier in the shower to say to Kassidy.

"Whew…okay Stark, you can do this. Be honest with her." He takes a breath and picks up his phone. "Seriously?"

The message was definitely not from Kassidy.

"What is this…" he mutters. An unknown number has sent a rather distressing message—a call for help he's not sure how to react to. The details are specific, down to an address given at the end of the message. Antonio narrows his electric eyes, considering it oddly suspicious how this unknown texter seems to know of his identity. Then it dawns on him. The message is signed off at D.J. There's only one person he knows with those initials that would make sense for a message like this.

"Oh crap!" Antonio bolts out of the lab only to return a few seconds later to retrieve his messenger bag. He turns on his heels and runs towards the elevator, and of course he must wait. He turns an eye towards the stairs but PTSD from the attack last Monday reminds him that's a bad idea. He starts jumping up and down in anticipation of the elevator doors to open. When it dings and the doors slide apart, he rushes in and slams the buttons furiously until the doors shut.

"Jarvis, call dad." He paces around the small space as he waits for his father to pick up. Tony's voice finally sounds over his watch, and Antonio realizes what he's about to ask might not go over very well.

"So dad, you're not busy, right?"

"Is this about what's happening in Oklahoma right now? Cause if so I have some stipulations if you're planning to help."

"I'm sorry, how do you already know—you know what? Nevermind…I need to ask a favor. Also, what sort of stipulations?" Antonio asks, suspicion changing his tone.

Tony laughs on the other end. "You can take whatever tech you need from the house, just don't take any of my suits, those are considered antiques now and I'd prefer they make it into the museum."

Antonio gasps. "How did you know I was going to—"

"What else were you going to ask for, a puppy?" Silence falls as Antonio is at a loss for words. Every floor passed brings him closer to the parking garage, but he's not sure if he can go through with this. He's never picked up a weapon a day in his life! He has NO idea what he's doing but he feels a sort of peace about the situation. He felt this same peace after his eye-opening and encouraging conversation with Cassandra Lang Thursday afternoon.

"You have a great potential that only you can use, Antonio. I know you feel overshadowed by your dad and your sister, but you have so much to bring to the table that they don't. I know how hard it's been for you growing up. I know you were bullied, and you felt like you couldn't defend yourself because of your health, but you're in a place now where you can do more than defend yourself…you can defend others. You're so much more than your physicality or your IQ. I know you have a kind heart that wants to heal the world. You just have to step out and do it."

She spoke to him in a way he'd never been addressed. Everyone sees him as Tony Stark's kid, or the next heir to the Stark legacy. Society has always viewed him through that lens. They always expected him to be just like Tony. And in some ways, he is, but he's not just like his dad. He's never wanted to be just like his dad. He's always wanted to make something of his own, on his own, in his own time and effort. The idea that someone out there other than his close friends whom he's grown up with thinks he's special is astounding. Perhaps that conversation is what compelled him to jump on this elevator in the first place. It doesn't matter if he has to borrow tech from his dad, or that he has no clue how he can help or what he'll do when he arrives. What matters is he's stepping up and stepping out. He's choosing this for himself. Not because it's expected of him or because it's what everyone thinks he should do, but because he wants to help fix some of the broken pieces the Avengers didn't know they left behind. Even if that means siding with Shield.

"Dad, can I really do this?"

"Are you asking for permission because I thought we already talked about this?" Tony says.

"No, I mean," he pauses, looking for words. "Am I really capable of helping someone like the Director of Shield?"

Tony chuckles and the elevator sounds as Antonio reaches the basement. "Howie, you're capable of anything."

Antonio smiles as the door slides open to the basement garage. He takes a deep breath before ending his call with Tony. "I'll let you know how it goes."

"Please be careful, and don't forget to wear your contacts!"

He huffs. "I'm already wearing them, gosh dad."

He takes off towards his car parked much farther away than normal to avoid the structural repairs to the ceiling. The creatures did a number on what seems like every single inch of Stark Tower, including the basement parking. He begins to feel running was too ambitious and slows to a jog as he pants for air. Upon reaching his vehicle, he flops into the driver's seat and after taking a minute to catch his breath because he refuses to use his inhaler, he speeds off. He whips it out of the garage and towards his parents' house. He has no idea what weapons he's grabbing or what he might need or what exactly he's going into, but he'll figure it out when he gets there.

"Jarvis, program the address from that unknown number into the GPS. We're taking a little trip to the Great Plains."

Roger's House, Brooklyn. 10:05am

"It's not too late if you get dressed and go now," Natasha says. She glares from the doorway to the garage at James' paint-stained clothes. James stands by his motorcycle, spray gun in hand, face covered by a bulky painting mask.

"This is the second appointment you've missed, and I'm not making up excuses for you if Lang calls." She crosses her arms as she waits for a reply as finally James pulls the mask from his face. "I thought you were just touching it up?"

What had previously been an afternoon project of fixing some scratches has turned to a complete repaint project. He'd been like this since he came home Monday. He showed up at the house covered in dust and grime with a gauntlet on his arm. Nat watched the news—she knew what happened—but he didn't say a single word. He came in, took a shower then went out and bought paint from Gomez's body shop. She knows this was a distraction, something he can use to avoid talking to her—or to anyone—about what happened. She knows how easy it is for him to bottle up his feelings and ignore everyone trying to help him, but it's also been four years since she's been around him. James is not the only one having to reacclimate.

"I was, but then I realized I picked up the wrong paint. This is semi-metallic and I wanted matte, so I figured, since I already bought it, I'd repaint the whole thing. Then I realized I didn't have a paint gun or sander, so I had to pick up a few other things," James says. He pulls the mask back over his face and swirls the container around to stir the paint before going back in for another coat. James' hand makes a steady pass, sweeping back and forth on the back fender. The paint layers on thin while Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

"I'm going in to make lunch," she says. James keeps working as she walks inside, not once looking her way. "Come in if you, I don't know, want to eat."

Natasha lets the door slam behind her, no doubt making James flinch. She stomps her way towards the kitchen but stops halfway on the brink of tears. Her fists clutch tightly by her sides as she forces down her whimpers, closing her eyes. She is not about to cry in earshot of her son. No, she needs to make it to the kitchen first. She opens her eyes and makes it to the kitchen. She grabs the leftovers she planned on eating for lunch and shoves them back in the fridge. Turning on her heels, she shoves her hands into the full sink of dishes she left soaking before she went to talk to James.

Talk? Can I even consider what we're doing at this point talking? she thinks. The tears roll down her face as she silently cries over the dirty dishes. She didn't think things would be this hard when James came back. Natasha was ready for her baby boy to come home from a war she never wanted him to join. Ready for him to be safe and under her protective and watchful eye once more. However, at every instance since he's been home, she has been met with aggression and silence. James used to be happy. He was always quiet, but he was happy. He was kind and full of concern for those he was close to…but now it seems he only wants solitude, and no one can suggest otherwise.

A tear drops into the sink, creating ripples in the suds. What is she supposed to do when he won't respond? She of all people knows what he's going through. She's been there herself many times through her career as a spy. She experienced it all over again when she and Steve worked through their trauma before and after they got married. She's no stranger to heartache and pain. But to see her son right in front of her hurting with no way to reach him is the deepest pain. She halfheartedly scrubs a plate beneath the soapy water. As the suds swirl and absorb into each other, Natasha's shoulders sink the more she thinks about her son. Kassidy appeared the other night after James' had dinner with her and Antonio, but he never spoke a word about what she said. He didn't talk about the attack after he walked in the door covered in dust with that shield Tony made cuffed around his wrist. He hasn't wanted to talk about anything other than,

"Mom, does this need fixing?"

"Mom, can I redo that for you?"

"Mom, let me repaint this."

"Mom, I'll move that for you."

The few times he's opened his mouth has been asking if she needs projects done, or anything around the house repaired. Yet, every attempt to ask how he's doing or if he needs anything—or if he even needs a ride to therapy—has been met with, "I'm good." Or worse…"I'm fine," when Natasha knows good and well he's not. But how can you push someone who could be close to breaking? She won't make him keep his appointments, or force him to talk, but James has always been so honest with her. What happened in China to make him so closed off and alone?

The thought of something awful traumatizing her baby makes her want to go on a killing spree, but what if there's no one to kill? What if what happened to him can't be remedied by simply offing the one who hurt him? It's not that simple. It never is.

Elbow deep in dish water, Natasha starts aggressively scrubbing a bowl. She's frustrated and sad and angry all at once. She hasn't felt this lost since Steve… She sighs and rinses the bowl under warm water, stepping back from the sink for a moment to dry her hands. A ringtone sounds throughout the kitchen—Natasha not realizing James left his phone on the counter by the doorway. She walks over to peek at who or what it might be but freezes in her tracks when she reads the notification. It's a message from someone at Shield. She knows they're the only one who sends messages from blocked out numbers. She pops her head out the doorway to make sure James isn't nearby. The sounds of his paint gun ring through the living room, so Natasha takes another look at his phone. The message reads as non-specific, but is definitely meant for her son. "Young hero, this is an emergency of the likes I can't explain through text. Just know that your specific skill set is needed. You have no obligation to respond, but if you do, meet me at the Shield landing strip off FDR Dr in Lower Manhattan. I await you there. D.J."

Natasha rereads the message over again. Daisy wouldn't…surely not after what's happened already. Not after he turned down her offer—which Nat only heard about through Cassandra after it happened. An offer which Director Johnson didn't even consult her about. She wouldn't ask for his help again, after all he's been through. He hasn't even been home a month yet, she thinks. She picks up his phone and dismisses the notification on the front screen then moves the device to a more subtle location. Is this an invasion of her son's privacy? Probably. But this is for his safety. This is for the best. He doesn't need to get involved and Natasha will do whatever it takes for him to heal.

S.H.I.E.L.D. Landing Runway, Lower Manhattan. 10:13am.

Daisy taps her foot on the tarmac, squinting through the sunlight down at her watch. No response from anyone yet. Five more minutes, I'll give them five more minutes before I have to take off. She looks to the skies in hopes of seeing Danvers flying her direction, but nothing green or sparkly comes her way. She sighs, looking over at Agent Hill who is consulting with the pilot beside their transport ship. Lila glances in Daisy's direction, looking concerned about the time. Daisy silently asks for five more minutes as she looks back out towards the gated entrance of the strip. Few agents are around as this strip isn't used often, perfect for inviting uncleared civilians for undercover work.

Lila steps close to Daisy's side, both looking from the sky to the gate. "Do you think they'll come? We really need to get going to make it in time."

"I know," Daisy says, pausing to look at her watch. "But I have to believe at least one will come. All I need is one."

Lila sighs and offers her superior a half-hearted smile. Daisy can tell that Hill doesn't believe that any of them will come. When she filled Lila in on what she was planning, it was hard for her to accept that things were getting this bad that she needed to source outside of Shield. She also seemed almost…sympathetic towards Daisy, which she didn't like. Daisy is the victim in all this, and while she knows she's been ignored and probably slighted when it comes to the Council, she's not a victim. Not yet anyway. She's simply putting herself out there in hopes something good will come. That's what the former Avengers—her advisors—agreed with her to do when she went to them for advice months ago. They agreed that their kids would be the perfect fit for what she needed because, like her, they knew that the Council would be problematic. They had been ever since the new shift of council members were elected. For some reason, these members don't seem to like or agree with Daisy, one in particular.

Councilwoman Wiler has always had it out for me, Daisy thinks. Her hands begin tremoring just thinking about this vile woman, and everything she's done to make Daisy's job as the Director harder. Most of the others that aren't one hundred percent backing her are easily swayed by Wiler's siren song. She has no idea why they seem to listen to her, but her insight is probably why she was elected as a council member to begin with. No matter, with what Daisy has put into place, even if things go horribly wrong, she doesn't need them. Not anymore. The council is a formality at this point.

"Director, look!" Lila says, pointing towards the entrance. A steel blue Dodge Challenger comes rolling up through the gate, quickly whipping into a parking space as Antonio Stark frantically runs from his car. He slows a couple of times to a jog then starts running again until he meets the two Agents.

"I'm sorry…if I'm late," he huffs.

"Take a breather, Stark, you still had five more minutes," Daisy says with a huge grin. Her tremors cease as Antonio begins telling her all about the tech he brought with him.

"My suit isn't finished yet, and I've never used one so it would've been a bad idea to borrow one of my dad's, but ANYWAY, here's what I brought with me as weaponry so hopefully I can be of some use to you," he says. His rambling doesn't deter Daisy's happiness, but she'll have to get used to working with a Stark again. Antonio pops open a hefty briefcase which reveals an array of blaster and bomb-looking objects whose purpose is still unknown as he continues to ramble about things she doesn't understand.

"That's great, Stark, but you might not need any of that just yet. Go with Agent Hill here and she'll get you into a uniform."

Lila and Antonio shake hands as she leads him up the ramp of the transport, offering him a standard Shield uniform and a place to change. Daisy takes to watching the sky and sure enough, a green streak comes beaming towards her. As Danvers flies closer, Daisy notices not one but two heroes in the green energy. Marvel is carrying Eagle Eye close to his chest as she clings to him for dear life. Daisy steps back as they land in front of her, Kassidy slowly opening her eyes as Markus lands. He gently releases her, clearly blushing red as Kassidy wobbles to her feet. She looks at him and points in his face.

"I don't ever want to do that again," she says with a weak voice.

He looks slightly sad but nods. "Noted."

They both turn to Daisy, who is smiling even harder than before. "Glad you two could make it! But we're going to need to change this," she says, motioning to their clothes. "I appreciate that you guys dropped everything to come, but I need you to look a little more Shield for this mission. Head to the transport and Agent Hill will help you guys out." Kassidy rolls her eyes at the mention of Lila's name.

"What about you? Aren't we on a time crunch here?" Danvers asks.

"Yeah, but I'm waiting for one more." Daisy looks towards the gate, hoping to see James rolling up on his motorcycle any minute. Markus walks ahead to the transport, but Kassidy stays behind with the Director for a moment.

"Director, if you're waiting for James, I wouldn't count on it. He hasn't answered any of my calls or texts this week, so I doubt he'd come," Kassidy says. Her words carry a weight to them. Daisy can tell she's worried about her friend. She takes one last look at her watch to check the time. 10:19. They need to leave now. Daisy sighs heavily as her crystal blue eyes take one last look at the gate.

"Yeah, yeah let's get going." She tells the agent in her earpiece to close the gate as they walk towards the transport ship. She's not sure how these three will work with each other, but this is their chance to find out. She hates that they have to come together under such dire circumstances…again, but if this is what it takes, then so be it.

On the transport ship, Antonio is almost suited up in a standard, navy Shield uniform. It doesn't fit well, and pinches in all the wrong places but he has to admit, blue is his color. As he finishes adjusting the jacket over his button up, he hears footsteps coming up the ramp behind him. Thinking it Director Johnson ready to take off, he quickly stops and whips around. However, Johnson is not who meets him. Panic fills his body from tip to toe as a tall, muscular man reaches out his hand to shake.

"Hey man! You're Antonio Stark, right? I'm pretty sure we met last week but in case you don't remember me, I'm Mr. Marvel!" he says with a sickening smile. His jolly green giant demeanor makes Antonio nauseas, but not as sick to his stomach as he gets seeing Kassidy trail behind.

"Kassy?!"

"Howie?!"

"What the heck are you doing here?" Antonio shouts.

"Why haven't you answered my calls? I was worried!" she says, pushing past Markus to get to him. Antonio takes a step back and crosses his arms. "What are you even wearing?"

"What all of you will have to wear," Daisy says. "You'll need to change before we get in the air." She steps into the cabin of the transport and tells the pilot to close the ramp as she takes her position up front. She motions Agent Hill to hand out a uniform set to both Barton and Danvers.

"How does it feel to be in uniform again, Barton?" Lila whispers to Kassidy.

"Shove it, guard dog," Kassidy glares. She snatches the clothes out of the agent's hand, while Markus gently collects his with a nervous smile. Lila takes her place in the copilot seat as the ship begins to shudder to life. Markus quickly changes into his uniform, but Kassidy just stares at the clothes in her hands.

"Why do we have to wear these?" she asks.

"Because I need you three the blend in. From this moment on, you are a special ops unit. You are new operatives under my direct supervision and will not be talking to anyone other than me and each other," Daisy says. She nods to Kassidy who reluctantly starts changing into her uniform.

"I can't believe you're here," Kassidy says to Antonio as she starts to change.

"I can't believe you lied to me, so I guess we're even," he says. He turns around to give her some privacy. Markus has rotated to do the same.

"If you'd just let me explain—" she starts, but is cut off by Johnson.

"All right, once everyone is suited up, I need you to strap in and hold tight, because we need to be somewhere, like, yesterday," Daisy says. The three of them sit in the pull-down seats fastened to the walls, clicking and locking in their seatbelts. Kassidy and Markus sit next to each other while Antonio is across from them. Markus can tell Eagle Eye and Stark are having an intense eye conversation, but he's too scared to get involved. Daisy takes something from Lila's hands and passes them around to each of the three. She gives them all an earpiece, a communication device no bigger than a bean.

"These are how we'll communicate when we land, but right now I need to update you guys on what's happening," Daisy says. She lifts her arm and a holoscreen appears above her watch showing blurry footage of something in a field. "Right now outside of Broxton, Oklahoma, an Asgardian creature has arrived along with a girl from a portal—we're assuming she is also an Asgardian. She appears to be fighting it for now, but she is only armed with a sword. S.W.O.R.D. reached out to me thirty minutes ago requesting back up. Apparently, her people are too far out to help, and she needs reinforcements now. Enter, you three."

Markus gulps. "D-did you say S-Sword?"

"Wait, you want us to fight that thing?" Antonio says nervously.

"Yes, and I hate to do it, but Kassidy, Antonio, I can't let you use any of your weapons. I can't let you two be recognized in any way as to keep your identities safe. Markus…you can keep doing what you're doing."

Markus offers a thumbs up with his nervous smile.

"So what do you expect me to do without a bow?" Kassidy asks.

"You went through Shield training, so you're familiar with a standard issue blaster, correct?" Daisy says.

Kassidy rolls her aqua eyes. "Yes, unfortunately."

"Wait, you were in Shield?" Markus whispers in her ear.

"No, she was in an early training program before she dropped out," Lila Hill says. Kassidy's eyes turn icy as she shoots the agent a dirty look.

"Hey now, let's focus on the mission at hand here. We've got a monster to take down and I need the three of you to at least try to work together. Got it?" Daisy says. The three remain silent for a moment before nodding. She can feel the transport picking up speed as they zoom closer to their destination.

"Antonio, walk me through everything you brought and let's see what we can use without drawing too much attention." Daisy steps over and sits next to the young Stark. He pops open the briefcase he brought with him and shows her an array of gadgets and gizmos. He absently goes through and explains each device while cutting his eyes at Barton every few seconds. She's nervous that whatever is going on between them could harm communication for this mission, but if worse comes to worst, she just needs Markus to hold out until S.W.O.R.D. arrives.

"Do you think the stunners will be enough? I think you could get away with using that blaster thingy there," Daisy says.

"The repulsor gun will work. The only problem is I have terrible aim."

"You sure do," Kassidy says under her breath. Antonio cuts his eyes at Markus as stifles a laugh.

"Do you have something to say to me, Kassidy?" Stark asks.

"Oh, now you want to talk?" Kassidy shoots back.

"Enough or I will throw both of you out of the back!" Daisy yells. Her hands are visibly tremoring as the three of them sink into their seats. Hill reaches out a hand to Daisy, silently asking if she's okay. The Director nods, standing to her feet to join the grownups at the cockpit.

"How much farther?" she asks the pilot.

"Eight minutes out, sir," Culpepper says.

Daisy sighs a breath of relief. "Oh thank god. I don't think I can handle them much longer."

---

A/N: SHENANIGANS AFOOT! How could this possibly turn out?

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