[noted]:

Hey guys ! So oh my god, this week has been busy. Not only did I score 20/20 on my coursework in one of my classes, I got accepted to my Grammar School Sixth Form and my backup, so I am legit dancing ! As well as working on something else, so yeah, it's been a pretty good week. I hope you guys enjoy this one, it gives up a major secret that I've been alluding too throughout the story.

It might not be the face-off scene you hoped for, with more nova/temp in it than usual, but I promise you'll get your face-off scene soon ! Leave me some reviews on whether or not you were surprised at the reveal and tell me what you think.

Minx98: Thank you so much, I'm so glad you're enjoying !
KingKatsu: If I can, I respectfully disagree with the statement. It's not that he's a bad guy - I presented them all in the same light and he wasn't necessarily singled out, I don't think. But believe me, all of them will (possibly) redeem themselves if this is what makes them into a 'bad guy.' And don't worry, I'm just glad you're still reading.
NobelSix: Thank you.
Guest(1): I love your enthusiasm ! And yes, she hasn't had much since she's sick but believe me, Timeline will make a world-tilting view later on. Might even stop a few hearts whilst she's at it.
FinalFantasyCrazedGirl01: Your reviews make my day even better, thank you !
MoonlightMistBorn: Thank you so much ! Yeah, I do see them as a peacekeeping organization myself, but there have been times where they're determined to do something they think is right, but it's not. E.g.: when spidey and hulk switched and they were determined to detain him.
Guest(2): The line between good and bad is really thin, and people that have been taught to do one thing most of their lives find it really muddled.
Wowza03: I can actually answer that. As said, Stutter said there's lead throughout the hideout, but when they entered the room with the tree and all the 'collections' from the Esoteric kids, there can't be lead in the room as the sunlight needs to get in. And since their communicators are still active, since Luke could turn on a football game with it, meant that the time they spent in there gave SHIELD a window to track them.

Oh god, those were some long-ass replies.

[ chapter eight ]

cautivos

Translation - Captives

Appropriation - "¿Quieres saber cuál es mi problema , muchacho vuela ?"

He's prepared when the tidal wave of teenagers comes flooding into the central operations room.

But he isn't prepared for the shouting, the screaming, the undignified lack of respect in his presence. How they throw their arms like whirlwinds and their voices rattle with the need for justice, with the need for understanding high in their throats. His eyebrows raise an inch as they come barreling into his control room.

"May I ask," he hums slowly, deadly and threading haunting teeth across their spines through the words and they straighten upon impact, upon instinct. His own spine straightens from where it's arched over the monitors that line his control room, the large monitor that splits into different screens behind his head. On each screen, an Esoteric child is either screaming in anger, staring solemnly or worse, tucked away from the light. "What right do you have to tell me how to capture my own prisoners? Terrorists?"

They don't hear the door open behind them; they don't see Paradox 13 enter slowly, as if approaching a battlefield riddled with bombs in the sand. Immediately, Spiderman throws a hand out. "Because, Fury, they aren't terrorists and they aren't your prisoners. They're kids! -"

"With the knowledge and power to devastate and destroy entire countries if they tried, Spiderman."

"But they didn't!" His voice shakes with the weight of this need of understanding, with the need of listening. He needs them to listen, because these children - and still, only children - were only trying to save themselves, trying to save others like them. There was good in them, tossed carelessly inside them and they then the world decided they didn't deserve to be seen with this good. With this hero-like responsibility in their hands. Spiderman suspects he should know the feeling - he's a hero too. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

"What is this?" There's something shocked and distant in Bolt's words, something vaguely afraid as they whirl around, to find something new between the two teams. Where understanding had grown like wildflowers, and trust had bloomed under fingernails, the feeling was suddenly gone. There was sudden suspicion and betrayal there, as if the countless talks and training nights between the Ultimates and Paradox 13 were something like a memory somewhere else.

When no-one answers, Bolt squares his shoulders and his fingers clench, just like training has taught true, with distrust evident in every line of his body. He turns away, mouth turning downwards as he peers towards his teammates. Lux and Stalker are glowering, teeth bared and for Lux, uncharacteristically quiet. But there's a storm blooming beneath both their breastbones, so much that Shark and Force send each other a look, wary and curious. Shark plasters on his trademark shark-grin, however shakily he holds it in place.

Powerman lays a hand flat, as if to flatten the situation. "Look, this isn't anything against you guys. We've just found some new information on Esoteric that could possibly say that these acts were accidents and -"

"ACCIDENTS?!"

Stalker and Lux are both immediately bent at the waist, fingers dashed into claws and there's something that shakes Lux, something not quite fear or anger, but it bleeds light through her teeth all the same. The shadows twitch violently, and it takes Bolt's hand on her back to calm Stalker, but Lux has no one. Lux is all teeth and fear and splitting atoms when she steps forwards.

"You think what they did were accidents!? They slaughtered families, children, to get their damn precious cargo! they hurt people," when she speaks, there's a sob in her throat and everyone flinches, because it's so hard to see the light-bearer cry, with her tough exterior breaking to splinters. Shark hangs out a hand to her, to wind it around her waist in comfort, but she shrugs him off, ever the tough girl. "They hurt anyone who stood in their way and didn't care who they were!"

"Lux, when you see this new information we've -"

"I don't want to see any information on those criminals!"

"Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it." Iron Fist raises a hand towards them in a stop motion, face neutral with a small smile. Stalker twitches, trying not to glare at what the chi-wielder is trying to say.

Lux, however, has no filter. "Can it, blondie. I'm not forgiving her-them."

"Hey!" bites Nova, stepping to Iron Fist's defense with his aura bleeding brightly against the grey, blackened background of the hellicarrier. He hangs over Lux, hands planted over his chest tightly. "I don't know what your problem is with them, you little firefly, but -"

"That is enough!" Nick Fury pushes between the two teams, leveling a glare at both. Immediately, they shrink back, but there's still hostility between them. "Now, you are under my orders and if you want to fight, then I suggest you do it in the training room and get it out of your damn systems, and not in my control room!"

There's a beat as he lowers his hands, as their rapidly heaving chests lower to soft jitters under their uniforms. But, against every hard condition and battle that's worn her into a soldier, Lux hooks an arm around the director and steps around him. But the toughness she exudes so violently is no longer there, and her hands lower like the pieces of herself are falling through the gaps between her fingers. There's a childlike innocence, that they aren't sure has truly ever rested on her face, when she stares at them.

She levels a glare at Nova, no heat in anger to it this time. "Do you wanna know what my problem is, flyboy?" And with fingers stuttering like fault lines, like fissures ripped open, Lux pulls down the zipper of her uniform slightly, from her navel to the bridge of her hips and slips her left arm out. Eyes widen and Stalker's hands grip onto her forearms where they're folded, angry at herself for not saving her teammate when the 'accident' happened.

"You try talking to me when Gemstone stabs you."

Blooming wildly across her ribs, is a large, rippling scar, angry and still blossoming red from however long it has been indented into her Mexican-heritage skin. It splits and curves around every jut of bone and White Tiger turns away, the urge to vomit flaring up like fire in her gut. Nova's feet touch the ground.

With a huff, the girl pulls her arm through the sleeve violently and zips the uniform back into place, however, she zips it to between her collarbones rather than above her navel. Her eyes glance away, shoulders arching up as if her biggest secret has been divulged. And in a way, it has - she's ashamed of the scar, of the way it cracks along the edges of her skin and mostly, for the way Stalker feels she's failed her. She knows the girl can still hear her screaming and see her body held up by the weapons, can still feel the blood on her clothes when Gem pulled her shards from her ribs and punctured a lung and she can still count the minutes that dragged to days as Stalker helped fix Lux back together. Because that is what leaders do.

"We...We didn't know."

"Because we didn't tell you," bites Shark, and finally, he hooks an arm around the brunette and she instantly folds herself into him, arms pulling around his torso and he runs a hand up and down her arm. His gaze softens when her eyes begin to droop, tired from the energy of the fight, and they harden when he looks back to the Ultimates. "Nothing good can come from those people. They hurt people, no matter who they are. No matter if they're trying to help."

"You can believe what they say, what they lie about," hisses Stalker, hands unfolding and the darkness settles, but there's still an undercurrent that twitches through, like they stand on the belly of a beast. She turns to leave, sending Stalker a soft look before striding past. "But we won't go along with it."

When they leave, and the control room slips into quiet, it stays that way until Nick Fury turns to the Ultimates who have guilty and broken looks on their faces. "You kids didn't know; we never gave you their full information for security purposes. It's not your fault."

"Then what are we supposed to do now, Fury? Esoteric or Paradox 13?"

"That's for you to decide, Spiderman. Me; I'm just the one supplying you with the toys."

Her shirt falls down her body when the light from the hallway bleeds a golden square across the floor, pierced by a shadow that walks through the door with a hard-set to their shoulders. Mostly everyone else is asleep, and only Ava stirs, pushing further under her covers with a snuffle and movement of fabric before the room descends back into silence.

Tempest turns, and her heart rattles a little bit when she see's him, dressed in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that's obviously not his; from the mud stains long since dried and ripped edge of the shirt, she can only guess it's an heirloom of his father's he's snatched from his mother's drawer when he visits. Dark hair is tussled from his fingers being run through it and he instantly strides past her, across the room to his bed. He pauses when, as he sits down to pull the covers from the edge, she softly perches beside him.

A green eye peers over his shoulder, catching the bitten lip and concerned eyes as she tries to hook herself to look at the bruise against his temple. But his pride pulls him back, to turn his back to her and try to dig more fervently for the covers that have been folded beneath the pillows. She sighs behind him.

"Sam."

He shuffles away when her hand goes to cup his chin, insurmountable pride taking root in his chest and he wants to be angry. But he doesn't dig for the covers anymore, because even if he's angry, he knows that ignoring the brown-eyed girl will shatter the carefully constructed trust between them. So he sits there, brows down-turned and eyes gazing everywhere other than the hand that flits from view.

But over the years, from insecurities to confidence, she's grown and soon, she's crouching in front of him, hands folding around the curves of his jaw and forcing him, with hands as soft as feathers, to look at her. This time, he doesn't shy away, as she tries to catch his gaze. "Sam. Talk to me."

"Why were you mad earlier? We've never...actually had a fight."

He flinches at the way his voice reaches childish fear, something he'd bitten down on since he woke up from the knockout he'd received on the precipice of their fight - whatever it was. He could still see the way her face had twisted, how she'd leaned forwards to bark at him to "shut up." It'd struck something that his brash attitude didn't like, and as always, when backed into a corner, the latino fought.

But he never thought it'd be Tempest, with her docile nature and gentle hands - she'd never resorted to yelling at him if he got on her nerves. It wasn't rare she got on his, but likewise, he never resorted to yelling either. He can see the flash of recognition in her brown eyes, and the way her cheeks blush from embarrassment makes him almost laugh.

With kindness she shouldn't have been gifted with, Tempest sits beside him, legs half resting over his knees and she ghosts a hand over his cheek. His hand wraps around her waist, keeping her upright against his shoulder as she averts her gaze, searching for a jumble of words lost between her collarbones. She rubs a fist to her eyes before finally looking up at him.

"I...don't really know. I was just, I don't know, my blood was running high and I was frustrated. But that's not an excuse; I made a mistake and I'm sorry I yelled at you."

His chest deflates with relief and a grin tugs his mouth upwards. In reply, he presses a kiss to her cheek, which she leans into gladly - she was always afraid of the mistakes she'd made, and he'd learned to reward her when she recognized them. "I'm sorry too. I can be annoying."

"No kidding," she giggles around the annoyed look he throws her in the lamplight, and smiles at the way it softens his features. How the sharp angle of his nose is overshadowed and gentle and she swears, she's never seen stardust look so beautiful. She pats his shoulder, and presses the back of her hand to his cheek to angle his head. "Now, lemme get a look at that bruise."

"Ow."

"Sorry."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

"Ow-w-w!"

"I didn't even touch you then," and when he smirks at her from beneath dark locks, she huffs around her breath and smacks the back of her hand against his chest, eliciting a laugh from beneath his breastbone. It floods every part of her, and the warmth of it makes her smile as his arm winds further around her waist and her head dips against his collarbone.

With a nod towards the bed, she climbs in gently, sleep already wrapping it's arms around her and she sinks against him, tying their hands together over his chest as he settles beside her. But there's something eating at her, something grasping and clawing and biting at her muscles. It makes breathing hard and her mind flickers.

"Hey," he's half-asleep when he looks at her, but he knows by now when her mind is uneasy, even in the dying glow of lamplight. He presses his face into the strands of hair that fall over her forehand, pressing a kiss to them, "what're you thinking about?"

"Esoteric. And Paradox 13. Sam, what're we gonna do? They're at each other's throats."

He rubs a comforting hand over her arm, smiling around the call to rest to put her demons to bed for a while, as well as his own at the impending crash of the two opposing teams soon. "I-I don't know Temp, I wasn't awake for them to really know like you guys. All we can do now is...probably let them duke it out."

"And if they kill each other?"

"...Danny would have a really good proverb for this, but I'm tired. Go to sleep, Temp. We'll talk about it later."