Work Text
Brooklyn, New York
, June 2042
Natasha set the plate in front of her daughter, the four-year-old digging right in to her lunch.
”
Careful,
” she warned in Russian. Toddlers with super-soldier serum running through their veins were always in danger of either eating too quickly or burning themselves. She’d learned
that
the
first
two times.
James huffed a laugh from his seat at the table next to Danny.
“What about this problem?”
James studied the math problem for a moment and then took his pencil, pointing out a misplaced number.
“You forgot to carry the one.”
The fourteen-year-old made a noise of understanding and began erasing and rewriting the answer.
There was a thump from the living room and a wave of cold air that they'd come to recognize as customary when their daughter-in-law transported anywhere.
The whimper that followed, however, was not.
James was immediately on his feet and in the other room, Natasha right behind him after pulling a knife from the block on the counter.
Yasha stood in the center of the room with Lenore's arm draped around his neck and a stab wound in her stomach.
Natasha cursed, running over to take the girl's other side and lower her to the couch to lie down. James steadied Yasha, the boy shaking and eyes unfocused.
Lenore's wound was off to the side a bit, far enough that it wouldn't have hit any vital organs, but she was bleeding pretty badly.
“I'll be fine,” she bit out, but her voice was weak and her skin was turning gray.
Natasha didn't know much about Jotun biology, but she knew this wasn't normal.
“I need to know what to do.”
Lenore shook her head, unable to do anything but lift a shaking hand to her wound. A thin layer of ice spread over it, stopping the flow of blood, as her skin turned ashen. Her breathing slowed and stopped after a moment, making Natasha think she had died, but Yasha chose that moment to speak up.
“She'll be fine. She's just healing.” He'd slid to the floor and his voice was brittle, broken.
James knelt beside him, confusion etched into his face.
“Yasha, can you tell us what happened?”
The boy shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.
“I don't- I don't
know
what happened.”
Both young adults were covered in ash and smelled of gunpowder. They had cuts and abrasions and there were smears of blood on both of them; some of it was Lenore's, but some of it human.
Natasha's stomach churned.
The attack had been deemed a “senseless tragedy” by the authorities, but everyone knew what it was: a violent attack against a minority.
Lenore and Yasha hadn't even been there for anything important; they were just taking a walk downtown, being lovey-dovey newlyweds, and somehow ended up at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Loki came to the compound where all of the Avengers had gathered with their families and confirmed that Lenore was going to be fine.
It was an ability that all Jotnar had: When they were grievously injured, they would go into a sort of hibernation while they healed that appeared like death.
In the day that she was unconscious, those responsible for the attack came into the public light and encouraged the “pure men and women of the Earth” like
them
to “rise up and resist the evil that plagued their world.”
Steve felt bile rise up in his throat. Same song, different century.
Peggy stood among the rest of the Avengers around the table. There wasn’t a single member that hadn’t made it.
Tony had called a full Assembly not ten minutes after the video had been released and, though everyone had already seen it, it wasn’t any easier to watch this time.
“There are groups popping up everywhere, spouting the same diatribe.” Tony ran a hand down his face. “Any outreach program, shelter, school, church, or temple, all over the planet, that has provided safety or support of any kind to mutants or off-worlders has been either bombed or otherwise surrounded by rioters in an effort to stop them from doing their jobs.”
Half of the Avengers had to walk away from the table to breathe. All those lives…
Steve watched as Bucky’s arm adjusted, rage in his eyes and a cool calmness settling over Nat’s shoulders.
They’d spent their last twenty-odd years together making sure their children would never have to see a day of war. Apparently they hadn’t been able to do enough.
Steve recognized that look in their eyes: the warning signs to stay out of their way.
“Crystalia and I couldn’t hardly leave the embassy,” Pietro informed. “The Inhumans were originally from Earth and they’re still being treated like monsters.”
“My brother-in-law has ordered all of us back to Attilan, except for our family," his wife added. “The three of us will stay as a gesture of good faith.”
Peter fiddled with his web-shooters in the corner.
“But what about us? They said on the video that the Avengers are their main targets.”
“That’s why we came here.” Clint screwed the tip on another arrow.
“It’s still not safe, though,” T’Challa cut in. “The Council has agreed to open Wakanda’s borders to refugees and their families.”
Sam shook his head.
“The mutant refugees
alone
would be three-hundred fifty-million alone. How are you going to house and feed all of those people,
plus
the off-worlders that have nowhere else to go?”
Tony raised his hand, not bothering to look up from his screen.
“Germany just did the same thing, so there’s something.”
“Jotunheim and Asgard both offer our aid as well.” Thor’s mouth was pulled down in a frown. The usually optimistic man hadn’t smiled at all since his arrival, though that was understandable. He leaned over the table, rapping at it with his knuckles. “They declared war when my niece was injured, but those she calls family will never know peace until they are vanquished.”
Steve caught his wife’s eye. She nodded.
“We set up base camp in Wakanda, then.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Just outside the Wakandan Border
, November 2042
Bucky slid into the trench grunting curses in half a dozen languages.
A hundred years and he was back in a trench in the middle of a war with people shooting at him. Go figure.
Yasha knelt next to him, head in his hands and breaths coming out in pants.
“You alright?”
“I can’t do this.”
Bucky had to duck another volley of bullets before he could respond.
“Yes, you can.”
Yasha shook his head, pressing his forehead against the cool stone in front of them.
“I’m not cut out to be an Avenger.” He took a shuddering breath. “I’m not- not
good
enough.”
Bucky tuned out the fight, hoping they didn’t get shot or bombed long enough to have this conversation.
“Look at me.”
The boy obeyed, but only out of the corner of his eye, reminding Bucky of when he was small. He’d always been so soft-hearted, so kind and innocent. It felt like a knife to the heart knowing how much of that was lost in all of this.
“I
know
you can do this. You know how?”
He shook his head.
“Because you, your brother and sister and all the others, are so much
better
than we
ever
were.” Bucky turned his son to make sure he was looking him in the eye. There was just
so much heart
there. “But
you
are going to be the best of all of us. But you can't be that if you don't live long enough.”
Yasha sniffed and swiped at his eyes before shouldering his rifle.
Bucky shuddered at the steel in his eyes. It wasn’t ever something he wanted to see there, but it was necessary.
June 2043
Day after day, more and more refugees were showing up or being brought back to Wakanda.
Tony wasn’t sure how they were going to keep this up long-term. Peter had been shot on the last rescue op, proving that it was getting more and more dangerous.
Morgan chased Bekah around the lab, both girls giggling and enjoying themselves despite the bloodshed just outside the country’s borders.
It made him smile to see them so happy, but he knew it couldn’t last.
October 2043
Vision held Wanda as they laid on the bed. She hadn’t spoken since it had happened, just stared off into space.
He’d taken the responsibility of telling Crystalia and Luna.
Pietro had died a hero. He’d taken three of the Sentinels down with him, saving countless lives and allowing soldiers and civilians alike to escape and return to their loved ones.
It wasn’t much of a comfort, but it was something. He hadn’t died in vain.
Billy and Tommy stuck their heads through the open door. The former had tear tracks down his face, while the latter was obviously filled with anger that he didn’t know what to do with.
Vision held out his arm and they climbed up on the bed, snuggling between their parents. Wanda wrapped her arms around them, kissing each on their head.
They’d get through this. They had to.
The meeting room was silent.
No one knew what to say. They hadn’t lost anyone in years.
“We can’t do this anymore,” Rhodey muttered. His voice was no more than a whisper, but it echoed through the room regardless.
No on disagreed.
They all knew the Sentinels were nearly invulnerable now, able to adapt to each and every situation. The ones that had killed Pietro had been self-healing! He’d only been able to destroy them by completely destroying what held their molecules together… and his own.
Tony, for all his genius, had no idea where to start on fighting these things. He’d been working non-stop with Shuri and neither of them could keep up with the new designs.
The force field around Wakanda was the only thing keeping them alive, but how long until that failed?
They couldn’t do this forever.
Sam sighed.
“When did this all even start?”
It was as if a light had switched on in Tony’s head, lighting up all of the old memories and connecting the dots.
He turned to Strange, seeing the same thought in the other man’s eyes.
Yasha looked between the two of them.
“What’s going on?”
He and Lenore had started attending team meetings in the past few months and Tony had never been so glad of that before this. His plan centered around their agreement to it.
“What if,” he said slowly. “I had a plan that would stop all of this from ever happening in the first place?”
Wanda’s eyes darkened.
“What did you have in mind?”
November 2043
Peggy still didn’t like this.
It had been an ordeal for her to be transported through time, but she had at least had someone on the other side to help her adjust. The children would have no one.
They had no choice, of course. While they’d been debating the perfect plan, the Anti-Mutant Factions had released yet another upgraded Sentinel, this one even stronger and faster. Steve had almost died when he’d run into it, only surviving because he had been smart enough to run without another thought.
Peggy hugged each of her children, reminding Sarah to not do anything foolish and Grant to help his sister with their baby brother. She knelt down to her youngest’s eye-level. He was only seven. She didn’t think she could do this.
“
Remember to be brave, okay?”
she signed.
He nodded.
“I love you all very much.”
She tried to keep from crying and failed; all of the parents did as they said their goodbyes. They didn’t want the last memories of their families altogether to be tearful, but it wasn’t working out that way.
The children all gathered in the center of the large room, a bag each on their shoulders and looks of hope and fear on all of their faces.
Dr. Strange held up his hands, the Eye around his neck opening and beginning to glow.
New York City,
November 2017
Yasha hit the ground, landing on his hands and knees with a gasp. That was
not
comfortable.
Sirens could be heard in the distance as his friends and family picked themselves up.
He mentally counted everyone, no one missing, and sighed in relief.
They had made it.
There was still a lot of work to do, but they’d gone through the worst already. (Or so he was going to pretend.)
He looked around at his team, grinning.
“Avengers, Assemble.”