A/N: Happy holidays, everyone!

Chapter 22: New Alliance

In which a new day begins and allies gather together.

Leslie had spent the whole night tossing and turning. It was still dark outside when she finally stopped pretending to sleep. She crawled out of the bed, feeling her head ache with exhaustion, and dragged herself out of the room.

She wasn't particularly surprised to see that her teammates were already awake.

Eddie was sitting at the kitchen table, looking exhausted. And yet, there was a smile on his face as he broke off small pieces of a chocolate bar and fed them to V. The symbiote was smiling too as they coiled around Eddie's arm like a tarry serpent and delicately took the chocolate pieces from his hand.

Huh. Leslie didn't know they could eat food by themself. She kinda assumed that Klyntar took all the nutrients they needed from their host. But if they could absorb food on their own, why did they need a host in the first place? …No, there was probably more to it. Just because they could eat like this, didn't mean they were able to get everything they needed.

Still, she wondered what it felt like to them. V was hooked into Eddie's nervous system, they could feel everything he felt, so what was the difference? What did it feel like to eat something on their own compared to experiencing it second-hand through their host?

Did it work the other way around? Did Eddie feel what V did? Leslie tried to remember what it had been like for her, but she just… couldn't. She didn't notice, didn't remember, didn't know… (She wouldn't know now.)

Leslie reached up and rubbed her eyes, trying to drag her scattered thoughts back together. She was too damn tired to keep herself on track.

"Morning," she greeted and sprawled in the chair next to Cameron.

He looked asleep, slumped as he was on the table with his head pillowed on his folded arms. He barely even twitched when Leslie bumped his shoulder.

Carrie was more awake. They were covering Cameron's back and head like a hoodie, and when she touched them, they stretched out a long serpentine neck and formed a face for themself, hissing something that sounded vaguely like "Good morning".

Leslie squinted at them. They sounded nigh-undecipherable like this, far more so than they had been the day before. Uh, two days before. (Time sure could fly when they were fighting for their lives.)

Although, Leslie had been hosting V when she had heard them speak back then, hadn't she? Carrie had only spoken through Cameron afterwards. Did Leslie actually need enhanced senses to understand their speech? Now that was a weird thought…

Or maybe she shouldn't be so surprised: Klyntar were a telepathic species whose physical form had nothing resembling vocal cords. It made sense that vocal speech wasn't particularly easy for them.

A cup of black coffee was put in front of her, pulling Leslie out of her wandering thoughts.

"You look like you need it," V said, coiling back around Eddie. Their speech was slightly more comprehensible than Carrie's (which probably had something to do with them being older and probably having had more practice), but they were not exactly easy to understand either.

Leslie grabbed the cup and took a sip of coffee. It was a little colder than she liked and had too much sugar in it, but Leslie wasn't going to complain. She quickly gulped it down and felt some semblance of life return to her body.

"Any news?" she asked.

Eddie shook his head. "Nothing so far." He nodded at the TV in the corner. The sound was muted, but Leslie could see what appeared to be morning news playing on the screen. "No sign of Inferno, nothing about Barrison…"

Leslie slowly exhaled. "Then we're going to Stark Industries like we planned?"

Eddie nodded, "Seems so."

They were all wary of exposing their identities, and giving someone like Iron Man a phone number was just asking to get tracked. (Maybe it was stupid to worry about things like this when soon they would be relying on Iron Man and War Machine to watch their backs in battle, but it still paid to be cautious.)

Thus they agreed that unless Madame Web was wrong and Inferno resurfaced earlier, they would all meet at SI headquarters to properly plan their next move.

"Ugh." Cameron lifted himself up with a tired groan and propped his elbows on the table. He looked about as terrible as Leslie felt. "Is it bad that I'm kinda hoping that we won't be needed in this fight? I mean… compared to Iron Man and War Machine, how much help are we really gonna be? Inferno is like our own personal kryptonite!"

Leslie sighed heavily. "At least you guys have superpowers… Let's just see what Iron Man managed to find out, then we'll go from there."

"Sir, our guests have arrived."

Tony Stark looked up from his current project, Jarvis' voice breaking his concentration. "Really? Is it morning already?"

He winced when his spine let him know with a stab of pain that spending the whole night either hunched over his workbench or glued to the screen searching for information was probably not a good idea.

"May I suggest that you are getting a little too old for all-nighters?" his trusty AI said dryly.

Tony stretched his arms and cracked his back with relish. "Tell that to Mr. Demon Lackey, J. Or do you think he'll postpone his evil plans if we ask him nicely? That clairvoyant Spider-Man told Rhodey about only gave us time until today. And look! It's morning already!"

"Clairvoyants are hardly reliable," Jarvis retorted.

He did have a point: prophets, oracles, and clairvoyants loved speaking in riddles. However, this Madame Web seemed far more blunt and to-the-point than the usual crowd. Well, at least according to Spider-Man.

It was really annoying how much information about their current situation was second-hand from dubiously-reliable sources… Oh, well. Tony had operated on worse intel before.

"Well, so far her predictions have been accurate," Tony shrugged. "Plus, you know… If I reunited with my girlfriend after years apart, I know what I'd be doing that night, and it certainly isn't work." He grinned and clapped his hands. "But anyway! Let's go meet our guests."

Then he swiped every device he had managed to finish from his workbench into a nearby bag, tossed said bag over his shoulder, and headed out of his workshop into a conference room where they had planned to hold the meeting.

…Or, at least, he tried to, but Jarvis refused to open the doors.

"Aren't you forgetting something, sir?" Jarvis said pointedly.

His shoulders slumped. "Do I have to, J?"

The silence he got in reply was highly judgmental (Jarvis had definitely learned it from Pepper).

Tony sighed heavily, put the bag down, and trudged towards the armor that he had left standing in the corner. "Remind me again: whose bright idea was it to hide my identity from the public?"

"That would be Nicholas Fury, Director of SHIELD."

"Ugh. I should've just told the old pirate to shove it," Tony grumbled, opening the armor and stepping inside. "And now I have to pretend to be my own bodyguard."

"Mr. Rhodes thought it was a good idea. Keeping your identities separate would ensure that Iron Man's enemies wouldn't go after Tony Stark."

"It was a stupid idea!" Tony retorted, locking the armor around himself and grabbing the bag of goodies again. "What the hell does it even accomplish? Everyone knows Iron Man works for SI. Hell, I have more enemies as Tony Stark than I do as Iron Man! If anything, idiots like Justin Hammer would be less likely to pull their usual crap if they knew I could repulsor them in the face for it."

Tony kept grumbling all the way to the conference room, though Jarvis chose to no longer dignify his ramblings with a response.

He fell silent when the doors slid open, and Tony finally saw the mismatched group that had been waiting for his arrival.

His gaze fell on Rhodey first. His friend was leaning against the nearby wall with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable behind the faceplate of his armor. Said armor still held a few scuff marks from the fight, but the damage was purely cosmetic: Tony had already repaired everything else.

Staying on the opposite side of the room were the others.

Yesterday, Tony had been too busy first fending off the reporters and various official inquiries, then trying to track down the interdimensional teleporter, so Rhodey was the one who had any contact with this eclectic bunch. And while Tony had done some research of his own, it was interesting to finally see them with his own eyes.

Spider-Man drew the most attention to himself, and it wasn't just his bright red and blue costume to blame. No, it was also the fact that he was hanging upside-down from the ceiling on a long web. (Was he actually comfortable like this? It didn't look that way, but Tony knew that some superpowers had weird side-effects.)

Tony had never worked with him before – Iron Man was called in all over the planet, while Spider-Man mostly stuck to street-level New York, so they didn't exactly operate in the same circles – but he made a point to learn about as many players on the superhero scene as he could. The Daily Bugle loved accusing Spider-Man of every crime under the sun, but Tony knew better than to trust the yellow press, especially that blowhard Jameson. More reliable sources painted Spider-Man as a decent person who wanted to help others, so Tony was inclined to trust him, despite knowing nothing about the man behind the mask.

The others though? That was where things started to get interesting.

Tony glanced at Venom: tall, bulky humanoid with jet-black skin and an impressive arrangement of fangs, who was leaning against the wall mimicking Rhodey's pose. Tony knew who was hiding beneath: Edward Brock, formerly a reporter for the Daily Bugle, who snapped after being fired, somehow got himself superpowers, and decided to join the ranks of masked lunatics that populated the city. He had been depowered and sent to an insane asylum several months ago, which he had recently escaped from after regaining his abilities.

More importantly, he seemed to have one hell of a grudge against Spider-Man. Even the security camera recordings Tony had managed to retrieve from that disastrous demonstration showed the two being at each other's throats. So what pushed them to work together? Was it purely an "enemy of my enemy" situation? Or was there something more to it? Tony didn't know, but he resolved to keep an eye on Venom anyway. It was better to be safe than sorry.

And then there was Venom-lite, version red, also known as Carnage. He had similar powers and appearance, but he was smaller and, Tony suspected, younger than Venom. (Were they related or something?) And despite looking like a horror movie reject, Carnage appeared decidedly non-threatening from where he sat at the conference table with his arms folded politely in front of him like a student in a classroom.

The last – and strangest – of them all was Lee, who was reclining in her chair with her feet on the table. She didn't have any costume: she was wearing street clothes and the only thing concealing her identity was the scarf hiding the lower half of her face and the bandana covering her hair. She hadn't demonstrated any powers, so for all intents and purposes, she was just an ordinary civilian. So how did she end up in this mess?

There was probably one hell of a story behind it all, but regrettably, Tony didn't really have the time to question his temporary allies. There was work to be done.

It took a lot of effort to sit still, considering how nervous Cameron felt, but drumming his fingers on the table left claw marks on the surface and earned him a judgmental look from War Machine, so he tried not to do that again.

Carrie felt anxious too, but they made an effort for the two of them to remain separate: synchronizing when they were both so nervous would probably just make it worse. (How Leslie managed to look so nonchalant when she was probably in a similar state, Cameron would never know.)

Fortunately, they didn't have to stew in their anxiety for long, because soon enough Iron Man came in.

"Wow, did Christmas come early?" Leslie snorted. "And where did all your reindeer go?"

"Lee, be nice!" Cameron hissed, elbowing her in the side. Though he had to admit, it was a valid question, considering…

"What do you mean–" Iron Man started to ask, then stopped and looked at the bag he had slung over one shoulder.

A bag that honestly looked more like a sack. A red sack.

"Nah, no reindeer needed," War Machine snickered. "His sleigh is powered by an arc reactor."

Iron Man turned around and pointed at him, radiating offence. "Keep talking – and you're getting coal for Christmas!" Then he plunked the bag on the conference table. "For everyone on the nice list, I brought some stuff that should, hopefully, make things a little easier for us."

Visibly curious, Spider-Man jumped down from his web. "Is there something that can help us against Inferno? Because the last time we fought him…"

"It didn't go so well," Venom agreed, ambling closer themselves.

Iron Man took out two cylinders out of the bag. Both were about an inch wide and had a button at the top. The only difference was their color: one cylinder was dark grey and the other bright red.

"Fire suppression grenades," Iron Man started to explain. "Press the button and three seconds later it explodes."

He raised the dark grey cylinder. "This one is foam. It's meant to cover a fairly wide area, so it's highly pressurized. Don't stand too close to the epicenter because it packs one hell of a punch, but the foam itself is harmless."

Then he raised the red one. "This one is liquid nitrogen. The effect is highly localized, so I recommend only using it on Mr. Homicidal Arsonist himself."

"Wow, this is great!" Cameron exclaimed, because this sounded exactly like what they needed to deal with Inferno. "Thanks, Iron Santa!"

Realizing what he just said, Cameron clapped his hands over his mouth, but it was already too late.

"Iron Santa!" Leslie cackled, nearly falling off her chair in a fit of laughter.

Iron Man sighed in exasperation. "Really? Is this what we're doing now?"

"This is great!" War Machine disagreed. "Maybe I should paint your armor red and green instead of red and gold? You know, to keep the mood festive."

"Try it, and I'll paint yours hot pink," Iron Man threatened. "Aren't you supposed to be the boring and responsible one between us?"

"Sure I am. Compared to you."

"…Yeah, okay. That's fair."

Amusing as it was, poking fun at his friend wasn't why they gathered here today.

"Tell us what you have found about Mordo," Rhodey said, almost spitting out the name.

Aside from yesterday's attack, they had discovered that Mordo had managed to weasel into becoming a supplier for Stark Industries, using a shell company under an alias. Rhodey wasn't sure how exactly the damn wizard had accomplished it – it could've been hypnosis or it could've been good old bribery – but it was still a mark against him.

Rhodey was the head of security, dammit! He was supposed to prevent things like that!

"Right, that guy," Tony nodded. Rhodey could hear a scowl in his voice. "Well, I couldn't track down the teleporter itself, because I think Mordo is shielding it with magic, so I hacked into his legal records and found a list of properties he owns. The teleporter requires a lot of energy to operate, and I bet that whatever Mordo is planning will need a lot of magic too. So between the bills for an industrial-grade electric generator and the map of ley lines dear old Steve Strange gave me a few years ago, I'm pretty sure I know where his evil lair is."

"You know Doctor Strange?" Spider-Man asked in surprise. "Do you think he can help us? Because the last time I dealt with Mordo and Dormammu, I wouldn't have won without him. And it's not like any of us know first thing about magic."

"Speak for yourself: I actually studied magic," Tony said smugly. "I just can't really use it, because if you're not born with a gift, you have to make a deal with some demon to supply you with power, and I'm not down for that."

"Huh. And here I've been wondering why Mordo is working for Dormammu in the first place," Lee muttered.

"Anyway, since Sorcerer Super-Awesome-Sauce isn't on Earth – some trouble in Dimension X or wherever the hell he is right now – don't expect any help from him."

Rhodey wasn't surprised to hear that. There was a reason why most of the superpowered crowd worked either alone or in very small, close-knit teams: there was usually so much going on, few had enough free time to help others.

If anything, it was gathering together like they did now that was unusual.

"Another problem is, I've no idea where Inferno and Shriek are."

"Shriek?" Rhodey repeated. It didn't sound like one of Tony's usual nicknames.

"Hm? Oh, that's the code name listed on Barrison's criminal record. I have found lots of stuff about them both… At least, until Screechy-Bird was spirited away to wherever. Funny that… Guess I know what I'll be investigating once this mess is over."

Rhodey raised his hands. "But that's for later. Let's deal with one problem at a time."

"Two problems at a time," Tony corrected. "Someone has to take the teleporter back and deal with Mordo and Dormammu–"

"That someone being you," Rhodey interjected.

It wasn't something they had actually discussed, but Rhodey knew his old friend far too well. It was his technology that fell into wrong hands, so it had to be Tony who took it back.

"That someone being me," Tony agreed, "because I know how the teleporter works and I actually have some experience with magic. And someone has to stay back and tackle Inferno before he steals the life-force Dormammu needs – whatever that even means – and burns down the city."

"That would be me," Rhodey said. He hit his open palm with his fist. "I want a rematch."

"As for you four," Tony continued with a nod at their guests, "you decide for yourselves who you'd rather deal with. That is, if you still want to help. It's your choice, really."

"Well… I think dealing with Inferno should take priority," Spider-Man started slowly. "Dormammu can't break free without the life-force, so if we defeat Inferno, we'll automatically win. And considering how much damage he'll be able to inflict in the middle of the city… We have to take him down as quickly as possible. So I'm with War Machine."

Venom crossed his arms, his shoulders hunching over. "We're hardly at our best against fire, but we'll do what we can to help." He looked between Carnage and Lee. "Kids? What do you think?"

Carnage twitched, his left hand trembling slightly. His claws scraped against the surface of the table. "We want to help, but… You do remember what happened yesterday, right?"

He had been injured pretty badly in that fight, hadn't he? Rhodey had no idea how a complete newbie would react if faced with the source of his trauma so soon, and the last thing they needed was Carnage freezing up in the middle of the fight when countless lives were at stake.

"Iron Man will need someone to watch his back," Rhodey suggested, ignoring Tony's offended huff. "Who knows what nasty surprises Mordo is hiding in his lair?"

Carnage loudly exhaled, his shoulders slumping in relief. "…Yeah, okay. We can do that. Okay."

He rubbed one hand over his head, as if trying to drag it through his hair, apparently forgetting that it was hidden by his… costume? Rhodey still wasn't sure what exactly this stuff was, other than really creepy.

"What about you, Lee?"

She tilted back in her chair and stared silently at the ceiling. Finally, she sighed, "I think I'm going to sit this one out."

"Are you sure?" Carnage asked. "Last time–"

"That was different. This time Mordo will be too busy fighting you to stalk me. And let's face it: last time, Inferno was holding back, and I still couldn't do more than distract him for a couple of seconds. Now, I'll just be a hindrance."

Rhodey was pleasantly surprised by her pragmatism, no matter how bitter she sounded about it. "We all have our limits," he reassured, "and it's important to recognize when you've reached yours."

"And you have already done more to help us than anyone could've ever asked from you," Venom added.

"Hmph."

Tony clapped his hands, the sound of metal hitting metal annoyingly loud. "Well, glad that's settled! I've got one question though." He pointed first at Carnage, then at Lee. "Was that 'kids' comment literal? How old are you two?"

That was a good question. Lee and Carnage sounded young, but Rhodey wasn't sure he'd be able to tell the difference between adults in their early twenties and actual teenagers by voice alone.

"I'm a legal adult," Lee said. "Not that it even matters, since I'm not gonna be fighting this time." Then she added with a smirk in her voice, "But Carnage is the baby of our team."

"What?! No, we're not!" Carnage sputtered with indignation. "We're not! Don't listen to her, she's full of lies!"

"Uh-huh…" Rhodey drawled skeptically, because this statement did not inspire confidence.

"We're not!" Carnage insisted. "Lee is just jealous because she's younger than us!"

She snorted. "Am I? Because that really depends on how you count. I mean… do we add your ages together? Average them out? Or count from the moment you bonded? Because every option is hilarious!"

"Oh, come on! We're both adults by the standards of our species!"

"And that would be… how old exactly?" Tony asked tentatively.

"Um…"

Rhodey rolled his eyes. So, a teenager who just hit eighteen? Yeah, sounded about right.

He couldn't say he was very happy with that, but at the same time… If Carnage was old enough to serve in the military, he was old enough to decide whether he wanted to risk his life fighting an evil wizard.

Tony sighed heavily. "You know what? I don't want to know." He paused slightly. "Wait, actually, I do want to know one more thing. What's with this 'we'? Are you, like, a hive mind or something?"

"It's not much of a hive, considering there's only two of us in here," Carnage said, tapping his temple. He (they?) sounded glad to change the subject. "But… kinda? We are a fusion of a human and a symbiotic alien."

"Huh. Neat."

"…That's it? Just 'neat'?" Carnage asked, clearly bewildered at the underwhelming reaction.

Tony scoffed. "Do you have any idea how much weird crap I've seen on this job? Trust me, symbiotic aliens don't even reach the top twenty. So long as you're not running around eating babies, I don't care what you are. I've got way too much on my plate already."

"And I'm afraid I will have to add to that list, sir," Jarvis' voice suddenly said from above.

Tony stiffened and sharply looked up at the ceiling. "What have you got for me, J?"

A screen lit up on the wall, showing a map of New York with one area highlighted in red.

A very nearby area.

"Inferno has just been spotted."

"Well then…" Tony said slowly, all traces of humor gone from his voice. "Looks like it's time to face the music."