I rushed to my girlfriend's side. "Wade!"

The Professor narrowed his eyes at Strange. "Don't tell me you're just going to stand there and let her swell up and die! Help us!"

Sighing, Strange pointed to the airplane thing. "They took Fury into the Quinnjet. Maybe we can...bring her in there and procure some kind of antivenom."

I picked Wade up. One thing I can say for her, the small pixie-like body made for an easy carry. "Stay with me. We're getting you help."

I rushed her to the plane, The Professor and Rembrandt trailing behind. Strange jogged beside me, gesticulating in the air.

I screwed up my face. "What the hell are you doing?"

Glowing runes appeared in the air. "Buying her some time. Now shut up so I can concentrate."

Wade's breathing did seem to relax a little, her airways opening up.

"You've gotta show me how to do that sometime."

"Help me fix the Multiverse and I'll think about it."

Unusual vehicle, the Quinnjet...kinda looked like the cross between a Harrier jet and a Romulan Warbird from Star Trek...Also an airbus...with a Chevy in the cargo hold.

The place smelled of new tire rubber, motor oil and gunpowder. A shiny chrome motorcycle gleamed next to the Chevy.

Rembrandt whistled when he saw the car. "Damn, looks like this job's got some perks, huh?"

I was in no laughing mood. Wade didn't look so hot.

The moment he put his hand on the door, the jetpack guy approached, removing his helmet. Plump face, mass of curly hair. "I wouldn't if I were you. Coulson's very possessive of his car."

I scoffed, shifting Wade in my arms. "C'mon, Mister Brown. The sooner we get Wade treated, and...whatever this is done, the sooner we go home."

Rembrandt just gave me a dirty look. "Man, I barely know you, and what we just did was a bunch of bullshit."

"Ask Doctor Strange. For what it's worth, I'm sorry, I'd send you home right now if I knew how to do it." I cast Jetpack Guy an urgent look. "Where's your medical bay?"

The man opened a door for me, gesturing to a corridor.

Rembrandt sighed through his nostrils, following me further into the plane.

An amazing place. Loads of fascinating equipment everywhere, and a lounge.

A hallway lined with glass and steel Star Trek type doors. More gunpowder smells and other scents I couldn't identify. Here and there I spotted bullet holes.

The raccoon scampered in front of me, nearly causing me to trip. "They got Fury in the lab, not the medical bay. You're probably better off going in there, where they got all the stuff."

I smirked. The little guy was adorable, and he could talk. I wanted to pick him up. "Lead the way."

The A/C system of the Quinnjet quietly hissed, something hummed in the background, reminding me of the sound effects on Next Generation.

The raccoon came to a stop at a worn looking Star Trek door, guarded by Coulson and Miss May, gesturing to a white room beyond. "There you go. Hope you can find something in there that can help. I know some sciency stuff about genetics, but I never claimed to be a doctor."

I hefted Wade through the doorway.

Computerized booping and beeping, some medical in nature, others like obscure science equipment.

They had Mister Fury stretched out on a table in a science lab. The moment I stepped into the place, I felt like a kid in a candy store. So many high tech gadgets...I had to resist the urge to pick everything up and play with it.

Not exactly a hospital. Didn't have beds or anything. The smells...chemical, but factory type chemicals, not the antiseptic medical kind. Oxygen equipment hissed and puffed air into the eyepatch guy's mouth and nostrils.

I shoved a bunch of books and papers and equipment onto the floor, clearing a spot for my girlfriend. I hoped we wouldn't need any of that stuff.

"Whoa, whoa! Easy there!" an Irish youth cried, picking up a science fictiony handheld device. "You almost broke the molecular scanner!"

I frowned at the skinny brunette. "Sorry, Mister..." I glanced at the name badge on his white shirt. "...Fitz. Human life at stake. If anything's broken, I'll pay you back later."

The man ran his fingers through his curly hair, examining Wade with worriment. "She got stung too?"

I nodded.

He injected something into her neck. "Anti-allergen/antihistamine. Might buy her a little while we research the cure."

I glanced at the man on the other table and did a double take. Although bald and wearing an eyepatch, he looked exactly like my new associate...I just hadn't noticed until now, because he'd been fighting at a distance.

Doctor Strange had his nose in some medical textbook. "Yes, Quinn, he's Rembrandt from a parallel universe. Rembrandt Nicholas Fury." I don't know how he knew I was staring. He hadn't even looked up from the pages. "Lost his eye to some extra-dimensional creatures called the Kromaggs. Consider yourself lucky if we don't run into them sometime."

I looked through the shelves and cabinets, searching for something, anything, that might possibly aid in curing this poisoning. People kept bumping into me, including the raccoon, reaching around me to get tools and chemicals.

Mays stepped into the room, grabbing me by the arm. "C'mon, get out of the way. You've surely heard the phrase, Too many cooks spoil the broth?'"

I frowned as she led me out the door.

Coulson gave me an apologetic smirk. "We already got a doctor/space wizard, two of the most gifted scientific minds on the planet, and your physics professor friend in there. If all of them can't figure out how to help Director Fury, I'm not sure what you're going to be able to do."

I shrugged. "Hey, The Manhattan Project wouldn't have worked with just one guy. The more minds we got working on this, the faster we can have a cure."

They reluctantly let me back in.

I frowned at their medical computer. Fury's EKG and other vitals did not look good. The man gasped for air, spasming in pain.

The Professor stood between a skinny curly haired Irish youth and a dainty brunette in a labcoat (similar young age). He stroked his beard, narrowing his eyes at the swollen brown face. "Surely something can be done!"

Fury's breathing stopped for a moment, pulse flat lining.

Strange rushed to the table making mystical gestures over the man's body, and Fury breathed comfortably for a moment.

"This is only a temporary fix. I need you to synthesize an antivenom, and synthesize it fast!"

"But that could take days!" the Irish guy complained. "We don't even properly understand what we're dealing with here!"

"Surely there's something in this place that can care that type of venom!" I cried. "You've got everything but the kitchen sink!"

Strange nodded. "It's a genetically modified insect someone produced as a weapon on a parallel earth. If a lab can produce it, a lab can come up with an antivenom."

"That's...a complete oversimplification of a very complicated scientific problem!"

Illyana teleported into the room, slapped a dead spider-wasp on a counter, and teleported out.

"There. You have a carcass now. I'm sure you come up with some kind of solution!"

"I'll get right on it." The small brunette put samples from the black widow wasp's venom sac into a centrifuge.

The Professor smiled at her. "You seem to be very skilled with that. What do you generally do in this particular laboratory?"

The young woman seemed flattered. "Oh? It's all over the map. One day I'm counteracting the genetics of artificially enhanced super individuals, the next day I may be studying ancient Babylonian tablets about aliens, I—"

The eyepatched man on the table spasmed and went into shock, foaming at the mouth.