All rights belong to Disney/Marvel. I own nothing.
Baltimore
Instead of moping around the ship, Cassie and Kamala suggested that the group take a well-earned break and go do something as a team. Seeing a movie had been the immediate suggestion, but Cassie had upgraded the idea to going to the nearest mall. The thinking was that there would be something for everyone to enjoy and they could simply wander around like normal college-aged kids.
Within twenty minutes of leaving the hospital, they were strolling through the entrance and were immediately engulfed in hundreds of other people, milling around the food court, hanging out with their friends, or going from shop to shop.
"This," Skaar grumbled to Cassie, "this reminds me of Sakaar."
Cassie laughed.
The team wandered around the mall for hours, going from shop to shop as Kate, Kamala, and Cassie took the time to relax and have a little fun. They tried on outfits, bought each other gag gifts, and generally just joked around with whatever they found. For the time being, any thought of recruiting heroes, fighting some unknown danger, and the fact that mysterious soldiers had shown up at two locations on their route were pushed from their minds.
Cassie bought Kate a NERF bow and arrow from a kid toy shop while Kamala got a t-shirt that said "Ant I Amazing?" in big letters on the front with an ant raising its front legs in a shrugging motion. Kamala received a hat that read: "Shhhh, I'm undercover" in bold white letters.
Besides the gag gifts, they each got something that they genuinely wanted. Kamala bought a piece of jewelry from a small kiosk that she planned to send to her mother. Kate got a couple of arrow sets—enough for another two quivers. The archer planned to use them to make new trick arrows since she was running out of shafts and vanes. Cassie bought a book about the life and trials of Michelle Bachelet, a famed human rights activist.
The three girls even got Skaar a gift after putting their hands together. It was a T-shirt that read: "This is my smiling face".
"Hmph," was his only response.
For the majority of the time they spent shopping and joking, Skaar had remained quiet, glaring at anyone he felt he needed to. Whenever he walked, people gave him a wide berth, but the trio didn't blame the others. Even when he was in his human appearance, he was utterly terrifying.
"I don't get it," Skaar grunted as the girls tried on sunglasses and hat combos.
"What's up, Sk…Clark?" Kate asked.
"What is this?" Skaar asked, glaring at the mall-goers. "It does not make sense."
"Clark, that was a complete sentence," Kamala laughed, patting the hulkling on his shoulder.
"Hmph," Skaar growled.
"These are shoppers, Clark," Kate answered with a smile. "They come here to buy things. Sometimes people our age come here just to hang out with each other."
"They go places and leave with nothing," Skaar muttered, crossing his arms. "It's pointless."
"Men," Cassie joked to the other two before addressing Skaar. "Clark, it's okay if people don't buy stuff at every shop they go to. Some people like to browse."
"Browse," Skaar scoffed as a pretty girl walked up to him.
She was of average height and looked about college-aged. She had flowing brown hair and perfect make-up that she had probably spent an hour that morning putting on. She carried a designer purse in a way that showed off her perfectly manicured fingernails.
Kate was willing to bet good money on the fact that she lived in a sorority house somewhere close by.
"Hi!" She said, looking slightly embarrassed as her friends snickered and giggled behind her. She tucked her hair behind one ear as she held her phone out to him. "This is super awkward, but I think you're really cute. Can I get your Snapchat?"
Skaar frowned in confusion and glanced at the trio, who were trying and failing to hold back their laughter.
"No." He said bluntly.
The girl's face went from hopeful to embarrassed in the blink of an eye as she hurriedly returned to her friends and walked away as fast as their expensive shoes could take them.
"Clark!" Cassie scolded, slapping Skaar lightly on his chest. "That was rude."
"Why?"
"Because she liked you and you were mean to her in front of her friends," Kate explained as they dragged Skaar away from the kiosk, went back towards the food court, and left the mall.
"She doesn't know me," Skaar countered. "Why would she like me?"
"She liked the way you look," Kate answered.
Skaar looked down at himself. He still wore a tank top, shorts, and slides. He was still confused and none of their answers were helping. Eventually, he gave up and shook his head in annoyance.
"Women are confusing," he concluded.
"Get used to it, bud," Cassie chuckled as Kamala led the group into a Middle Eastern restaurant.
"Have you guys ever tried Pakistani food?" Kamala asked, heading into the restaurant before getting an answer. As soon as she stepped in the door, she was confronted by a hostess. She grinned at the other woman.
"Hi! Table for four please!"
The hostess smiled at Kamala as she grabbed four menus. "Of course. Right this way."
The hostess brought the team to a four-person table and laid out the menus. "I will be right back to get your drink orders," she promised before leaving.
The foursome looked over the menus for a few moments as they all took time to see what looked good to them. The restaurant smelled wonderful—a complex blend of spices and grilled meat that wafted out of the kitchen. It was a quaint, cute little restaurant that was doing well for itself as most of the tables were filled with happy, hungry people.
The hostess came back with water for the table before taking their drink and food orders. Kate got biryani, Cassie got chicken tikka, Kamala got aloo keema, and Skaar got two orders of seekh kebabs.
"This is delicious, Kamala," Cassie praised. Next to her, Skaar was cleaning off kebab sticks in seconds.
"It tastes like home," Kamala said quietly, looking down at her food. "My mom used to make aloo keema whenever I was sick. She rejected the American idea of chicken noodle soup and made what her mom had always made for her." She chuckled. "Worked like a charm."
"Do you miss home?" Kate asked.
Kamala gave a small shrug. "Some days are worse than others. Some days, it's easier to remind myself that this is a big world and I can't stay in Jersey City when I can make a change for the better."
"If superhero-ing doesn't work out, you should go into marketing," Cassie complimented. "You'd make a killing with inspirational quotes."
"I do a lot of journaling," Kamala laughed.
The conversation fell to small talk as each person focused more on their delicious food instead of the discussion. It wasn't long before the hostess came back to collect their plates and drop off the check.
"Do you think Eli will join us?" Cassie asked curiously.
"His file only mentions his grandpa as his only known family," Kamala added. "I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to stay by his side."
Kate's phone buzzed. She checked it and looked around at the others. "He's in."
"That was quick," Cassie commented. "I thought he wanted to take the night to think about it."
Kate shrugged. "Who knows why he said yes? I think we should be happy that he is."
"The more the merrier," Kamala grinned.
Florida
Vision held himself above a light post, looking down at the S.W.O.R.D. compound. It had started life as a hangar for World War II fighter planes, located safely in the Floridian glades. He knew more about the history of the compound than perhaps the people who ran it.
The hangar and the surrounding land have been renovated over the years to include offices, laboratories, testing facilities, and support services. A series of sensors and radars surrounded the compound, capable of identifying enemies from more than thirty miles away and alerting the facility of danger within seconds.
The towers posed no danger to Vision, however. They were watchdogs he had grown up around and knew how to avoid them.
The android had conflicting emotions—if that's what he could call them—about being "home". He had been created here, resurrected from the remains of his previous embodiment, which had been put together through the combined efforts of Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Ultron, J.A.R.V.I.S., and the Mind Stone. However, he was hesitant to call the facility his home.
Human children did not call the hospitals they were born in their homes, after all.
"What has led me here?" Vision wondered to himself, scanning the buildings. He found nothing that could have caused the signal.
Instead, he noticed a small warehouse, barely the size of a mechanic's garage, hidden away in the corner of the compound. His gaze could not pierce its walls and see what was inside. That alone was enough to intrigue the white android.
He glided across the grounds towards the building, ignored by the scientists, soldiers, and personnel below him, who were noticeably fewer in number than the time before Westview.
Again, he knew why.
Before their involvement at Westview, S.W.O.R.D. had been a relatively well-funded agency. They had been in possession of the original Vision's body and had been headed by Maria Rambeau, a trusted and sensible soldier-turned-director who had founded the agency. S.W.O.R.D. had a bright future and after the catastrophe in Sokovia with Ultron, many high-ranking officials believed that there was a greater need for an organization such as S.W.O.R.D. than ever before.
However, after the events at Westview, the removal of Tyler Hayward as acting director, and the disappearance of Vision's body, S.W.O.R.D. was stuck in limbo as the leadership structure was reorganized and the majority of its funding was redirected to other programs and organizations. It was still relatively operational, but the new director, Joshua Price, would have to work hard to regain the trust and funds of his superiors.
Vision phased through the ceiling of the garage and dropped to the ground. The room was filled with covered objects, mostly hidden by darkness. In the corner of the room was a desk with a simple computer and two monitor screens.
"Took you long enough," someone said from the darkness before he stepped into the light created by the windows in the roof.
He was in his thirties, with light brown hair and a clean-shaven face. He was dressed in a black suit with the tie loosened and a pair of sunglasses hanging from the handkerchief pocket on his jacket.
"Director Price," Vision assumed, bowing his head respectfully to the man. "I did not expect you here."
"Looks like these special walls of ours did the trick," Price cracked a smile, looking around the room as he stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Were you the one who sent the signal?"
Price shrugged. "Had to get you here somehow. I'm sorry if it…tickled."
"I sense that your apology is not genuine."
"Nothing gets by you," Price joked. "Or, mostly nothing at least."
"Why have you summoned me here?" Vision asked. He tried to sense what was in the room but found nothing. Whatever was covered was hidden by the same material that the walls were made from. The computer in the corner had been wiped and was not connected to any technological line that Vision could follow.
"It's been more than a year," Price shrugged. "No call? No postcard? You practically left us at the altar."
"I did not see a need to communicate with S.W.O.R.D.," Vision countered calmly. "I have, what do humans say? Moved on?"
"You're government property. You don't get to just move on," Price replied.
"I believe that I have risen above being property."
"The robot is above being property? Without us, you'd still be a useless corpse in Wakanda," Price snapped, his mocking sense of amusement dropping. "We gave you a purpose. You were a glorified babysitter to Tony Stark. You were a fleeting dream to Wanda Maximoff. But with us, you could have been a true hero. You could have risen above every Avenger within months."
"Why have you summoned me here?" Vision demanded.
"I think you know why," Price said, pulling a switch from his pocket and clicking it.
The covers fell from the machines against the wall as they blasted Vision with lasers. The android attempted to phase his way through the onslaught, but as soon as the beams hit him, he solidified as the density of his form increased. He tried to move towards Price to take the remote, but every step felt like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and with every hit, he grew slower and slower until he couldn't move at all, continually pummeled by the lasers.
"Did you really think we wouldn't have a contingency plan?" Price asked over the hum of machinery. "We did our research. You can increase or decrease your density as needed, but the higher the density, the harder it is to move."
Vision's density was stuck at a rate where he couldn't even move his lips to respond.
"Now, we're going to try this again," Price said, clapping his hands together. "I hope you've packed for a long stay."