Bystander is back and finally gets robots!

I finished college with a biochemistry degree of all things but I was still working at the restaurant. My boyfriend wanted me to go get certified to teach or something, but I found myself dragging my feet a little. While he was working hard at an entry level job to get higher and higher pay grades, I was still serving quail and soufflés and for the first time, none of it seemed right, even as we moved into a slightly less disgusting apartment (granted, in a worse borough than before) meant to be more than a shoebox. It was the start of a whole new world and I still had no idea what to do with myself.

The first thing my boyfriend unpacked after we moved the sofa in was the television. That was very typical of him. When he turned it on, every channel was filled with what we already knew. Evil robots bent on ending humankind invaded Sokovia. I finally got my robots, but my boyfriend was on edge, his arms wrapped around his legs. He was a nervous sort of guy, a bit of a safety nut that worried about everything from global warning to whether or not the Avengers were heroes or our impending doom. I figured it was a toss up, but he couldn't leave it at that. He had to analyze every bit of information he had. It was part of the reason I liked him.

"Are you watching this?"

"I have three tabs up about it." I replied, distracted. The Skype tone was going off and I accepted the video call. Baba gave me a little wave as the screen adjusted and my boyfriend rattled on.

"Doesn't your grandmother live there? Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's Skyping me right now."

"What?!"

"Yeah, come here." He slid in next to me, wrapping an arm around me. The room tilted and the screen fuzzed up.

"Well as you can see—wait is that your boyfriend? Oh never mind, you're too handsome to be her boyfriend—things are kind of looking shittier by the moment. I put the silver dining set in the will for you but—" There was a resounding crash and the house started tipping to the side—well, you know how these things are, dear, you live in Brooklyn."

"Bronx now. Brooklyn's getting too expensive because all the urban professionals or whatever want to move where all the cool people are. So the cool people had to move cos they upped the rent."

"I hope it's not too bad there."

"Baba, you're on a rock rising in the air that could go hurtling down and smash into the earth at any moment, killing millions of people, and you're worried about me living in the Bronx?"

"Just make sure you lock all your windows."

"Wait, how do you still have an internet connection, Baba?"

"I guessed their giant evacuation ship thing's password. They're evacuating people now. A nice man told me I should probably go. Then he got distracted by one of those awful robot things."

"Baba, you should get on the helicarrier."

"I don't want to. Not yet."

"Baba, if you want to come inspect my new apartment for lead paint, you should get on the helicarrier."

"But I'm talking to you—"

"Look you really should." My boyfriend cut in for the first time. In the mini Skype window, he looked absolutely horrified by our conversation.

"You don't tell me what to, young man. I don't care if you—"

A beam fell and the screen pixelated. My boyfriend covered his mouth. All I could do was stare, listening to what was practically a call of crashing, breaking and gunshots. Baba wasn't saying anything, not even shouting or screaming, then all of a sudden, for a moment there was a flash of green and Baba's internet connection failed.

I continued staring at the blank screen, even after my screensaver popped up. My boyfriend slowly took my laptop away, closing it. We waited five long minutes before he said anything.

"I'm so sorry. That's horrible. Maybe we should—"

I started the countdown. It would determine whether or not things would be okay, "Five, four, three, two, one—" My phone rang and I picked it up without looking at it, "Hey Baba."

My boyfriend stared at me in absolute amazement, but I ignored him, focusing on what she was saying.

"Well, that Hulk man saved me. He probably got hit with a hundred bullet meant for me and herded me out of the house." Her voice was slurring slightly and she giggled every once in a while, "Then he went mad and started smashing everything—I get what you were talking about—anyway, then a nice young man that could run really fast helped me to the helicarriers. I'll have to thank him later. He ran off too quickly. I asked to use a phone that would work up here because I thought you might be worried."

Worried was an accurate statement. I had only been worried throughout the span of this. I didn't actually think about the implications of my Baba getting killed. It was a little frightening but at the same time, it all worked out. Finally hearing her voice alleviated a sinking feeling that I hadn't examined too closely before. I didn't want to die. I didn't want anyone to die. Yet, I couldn't let that keep me from going about my day. That had always been how I thought before.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Baba." My boyfriend took my hand; even though I didn't need that support, it was appreciated.

"Now I've got a clever idea for you." Baba continued, "There's a lot of fine young people in this business, you know. Clever ones like you."

"Baba, I'm not joining SHIELD."

"No, not that, silly. I had this idea for ages but the nice young lady that set my arm helped me—"

"Wait, you have a broken arm?"

"And a couple bruised ribs, but nothing bad. You keep interrupting me. Anyway, I thought you should take the MCAT."

"You want me to be a doctor?"

"No. I want you to consider being a doctor. Or nurse. Or anything really. You don't have to, but you're a lot like me. I can be bombed, blown up, or whatever the Hell that was just now, but I'll still come out the same. The thing is, I get very bored. I see that in you."

"I do too, Baba."

"I got to go. The lady's started tapping her foot. I love you! It looks like I might see you soon. They're willing to give me a ride to get me off the phone."

"I love you too, Baba. Get here in one piece. We haven't celebrated the new place yet."

I settled back against my boyfriend's shoulder, "So everything's okay again?"

"Even if it isn't, we do what we do." I smiled up at him, "Which is why you are going to finish unpacking and I'm going to have a drink."

"That's unfair."

"Your grandmother didn't almost get blown up by evil robots." He was about to open his mouth but he said nothing at all, untangling himself from me.

"I'll make you a vodka soda first."

"Thank you! I love you!"

I wanted to thank Dr. Banner (even if he didn't remember) and whoever else was involved with saving Baba. I also wanted to do something that would make her proud before the statistically realistic possibility that she would die before me. What use was there in trying to make the dead proud? I wanted the living to know that I could do something bigger, even if it didn't make that much of a difference in the scheme of things.

That night, I did a lot more thinking than I had when I was sixteen and going through some major existential crisis phases that I really didn't miss. I also got very, very drunk with Baba two days later and registered to take the MCAT. It couldn't hurt.