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Sam and Steve stepped out of the dimly lit theater into the cool night. Above them, the neon marquee cast a faint glow on the bustling street, where the crowds moved about in a cadence of Friday night energy. Tonight was their usual movie night, a designated off-work night that Steve permitted himself as the leader of the Avengers. No calls, no texts, no superhero activities for either of them."I think the ending is so anti-climatic," Sam complained. "If it ends like that, what's the point?"Steve chuckled and wrapped his arm around Sam's waist. "This is just a movie, Sammie. You're taking this way too seriously.""Yeah, well, maybe the director should take the movie seriously.""Not trying to defend the director, but—"BANG!An explosion tore through the night with the flames erupted from a building two blocks away, followed by a cascade of falling rubble. The distant sound of shattering glass and screams filled the air."What's that about? What did you hear?" Steve asked Sam who was already running in that direction toward the explosion.The din of crowds prickled Sam's ears, and he filtered the noise, picked out: the yelling of two men, the shouting of a mother toward her daughters, and a cry of "They are the mutants!" He turned to Steve and said, "Brotherhood of Mutants are here."Steve followed Sam toward the noises and rounded a corner to see a bobbery raised before them. A fireball erupted from a building, whisking wisps of smoke into the sky. Two figures—one Romani woman with a glowing red aura and a Romani man with silver hair moving at lightning speed—were attacked by two men. One of the men threw balls of fire at them, while the other punched the ground, releasing seismic waves that toppled streetlamps and led to holes in the pavement where two figures stood."Wanda and Quicksilver," Steve muttered, "against Pyro and Avalanche.""Another civil war then," Sam said grimly. "There are still people inside the building. Can you handle them while I do the rescue?"Steve nodded. "I’ll keep them busy while you'll be the hero this time.""Thanks, Stevie." Sam gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Be right back."He launched to the sky in his Kryptonian suit, his red wings unfurled behind him as he rocketed toward the damaged building. Steve sprinted to the battleground and drew the attention of the mutants."Whatever this is, it needs to end now. You're putting the innocent people in danger!" Steve barked, raising his shield when a flame pitched toward him. The vibranium absorbed the impact, and he pushed forward, closing the gap toward Pyro.“Stay out of this, old man!” Pyro shouted, igniting another wave of fire with his fingers."Don't say this old man didn't warn you." Steve quickly tossed his shield, which then clipped Pyro’s lighter hidden under his wrist, allowing an opportunity for Quicksilver, who moved in a blur to deliver a punch that sent Pyro sprawling to the ground.Opposite Pyro, Avalanche drove his fists into the ground, erupting needles that cascaded down the street, trapping Wanda in a terrain resembling a cactus's spines, their sharp edges clawing at her arms and legs. Blood welled in thin, shallow lines where the stone scraped her skin; faint streaks of blood dripped onto the pavement floor."Is that it?" Wanda tilted her head, red orbs of energy glowing in her palms, her fingers weaving intricate patterns in the air. The chaos magic rippled outward, slamming into the rooted earth with explosive force, crushing and scattering the debris into fragments."I haven’t even started," Avalanche growled. He charged at her, the ground beneath him trembled and cracks spread outward like veins. Dark ripples of earth spouted from his path, rising into the air like twisted missiles, and then flung toward her.BAM!Steve's shield zipped through the missiles of boulders, caromed off the parked car, and then arced back toward Avalanche, striking him squarely at his back, which sent him staggering with his balance disrupted."I had him," Wanda said, her palms still glowing red.Steve shot her a look. "You're welcome.""FYI, they aren’t done yet," Quicksilver riposted, skidding to a stop between Steve and Wanda. "Look."A flow of flames surged toward them like a blazing river. Quicksilver darted behind Steve's shield. Behind him, Wanda raised her hands, summoning a shimmering force field, enveloping them in a protective bubble just as the fire surrounded them.
Avalanche bristled, the ground beneath him fractured and shifted, and shards of rock sliced through the air, firing directly at them despite the force field’s deflections. Beside him stood Pyro, fire dancing and swirling around him.Steve resigned to a sigh. "I never have a normal date night."While Steve was preoccupied with the mutants, Sam scanned through the building, where smoke filled the air and frightened civilians struggled to find a way out. Sam started with the first floor—clearing the path using his heat vision to demolish the rubbles, the second floor—using his ice breath to extinguish flames, and finally stopped at the third floor—guiding the people to the first floor. One by one, the people spilled out of the building.Sam instantly flew back to the street and saw Steve ducking and rolling to dodge another blast from Pyro. He took a deep breath and exhaled, transforming the fire from Pyro's hands into ice balls.
Pyro glanced at the ice falling to the ground, then looked up at Sam, who floated above him. "Shit, the Kryptonian is here," he exclaimed."Did you think I’d be on vacation?" Sam crossed his arms across his chest. "There are only two choices for y'all. Leave now, or I can force you to leave. Take your pick."Pyro and Avalanche exchanged a glance. “We’ll finish this another time," Avalanche snarled at Wanda and Quicksilver, retreating into the shadows with Pyro close behind.After they disappeared into the dark alleyways, Wanda and Quicksilver turned to Sam and Steve. "Thank you," Wanda said, a hint of a smile softening her usually intense countenance."Glad to help," Steve replied with a nod.Wee-Woo-Wee-Woo.The shrill wail of the ambulance siren echoed through the streets, a signal for Wanda and Quicksilver to depart. "Yeah, yeah, anyway, catch you later," Quicksilver said briskly, turning to leave. "As for you, Val Zod, let me know when's a good time to race. It's time to find out who's the fastest."A grin swept across Sam's features. "Whenever you're free, I'm there."As soon as Wanda and Quicksilver were gone, Sam and Steve made their way to the nearby hospital. The emergency room was a hive of activity. Those who were injured filled the waiting area, some with minor scrapes and burns, others with more serious injuries. Nurses and doctors moved quickly, triaging the wounded and offering whatever care they could.Sam had already changed into his civilian clothes—a simple polo shirt and jeans, while Steve, wearing his leather jacket over a white button-down shirt, looked calm and composed, though his sharp eyes perused the room.They approached one of the nurses, who looked up at them with bleary eyes. “Can I help you?”Sam explained, "We're here to check on the patients. There was a huge evacuation at the building, and we want to make sure people are okay."The nurse hesitated briefly, but her scrutiny quickly faded when she spotted Steve standing next to Sam. "Captain America! Where’s Val Zod?" She didn't wait for his answer before continuing, "Anyway, most of the patients from the building are stable, but a few are still being evaluated. Let me check on that for you."Once the nurse stepped away, two cops entered the room. They espied Steve and Sam among the patients."Were you two at the scene?" one of the cops asked. He eyed Sam with suspicion, assessing him."Yes, we were," Steve replied instead. "We helped to evacuate."Their gazes stayed on Sam. "Mind telling me who you are? What were you doing at the time of the explosion?"Sam's back stiffened, annoyance flickering in his expression, but he kept his tone neutral. "I was just finished watching the movie.""Sam’s with me at the time," Steve said firmly, stepping forward. The cops glanced at Steve, recognition dawning."Captain America," the other cop mumbled. He elbowed his partner, whispering something. After a long pause, the cop’s demeanor shifted, though a sneer tugged at the corner of his lips. "Have a good evening then, gentlemen." Then they walked off, but not before Sam heard a whisper, "Didn't know Captain America is a homo."Sam’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched."Not now," Steve said quietly, steering Sam toward the patient rooms. "That'll be next time. Right now, we’ve got more important things to worry about."Sam exhaled sharply, the point of argument hovered above his tongue, but he resisted it. Instead, they moved down the sterile corridors, the air thick with the antiseptic smell of isopropanol, to check on those who were injured from the fight between the mutants.Inside the rooms, a myriad of patients spoke in trembling gratitude for Val Zod. "Val Zod saved my life," a Caucasian man said. "Thank God he was there." Others offered hushed thanks to Captain America for taking the time to check in on them."You're welcome," Steve replied to one elderly lady. "It's what Avengers are here for."They continued down the hall, stopping briefly in other rooms to check on the wounded ones and offer words of comfort until they found a quiet spot in the lobby to sit. The buzz of the hospital had died down, and the hum of vending machines was the only noise nearby."The internal fighting between mutants," Steve began afterward, "is getting more dangerous. Before, the fight was contained between them. Now, they're getting bold. They are fighting in the streets, dragging the innocent people to it.""So did the Avengers. So did I. It's not like they are doing it intentionally.""I'm not disputing that. I'm just thinking here," Steve said, "perhaps we are underestimating the potential danger with mutants.""Mutants are not dangerous. Majority of them are living hidden from everyone because they are scared of people's reactions." When Steve fell silent, Sam continued, "When you met me, how did you know I'm not dangerous? Is it because I look human and act like a human?"Steve pursed his lips. "Sam, that's not fair.""Neither is the assumption and judgment on mutants." Sam placed his hand gently atop Steve’s. "Steve, you gave me a chance when no one else did. Just based on first instinct and understanding. Mutants deserve that chance as well."Steve leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He kept his thoughts in rumination.
The table stretched endlessly, polished to a shine so clear it was a trap for reflections. Tony sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled as if he was praying, even though prayer wasn’t his style."We got a problem," Tony said, his tone flippant as though discussing a bad investment. “Mutants are making a scene again. I don’t know if you saw the news yesterday night, but I sure as hell did. And let me tell you, it doesn’t look good when the rest of the world sees explosions on the streets.""And your point being?" Bucky seldom spoke at the meeting, today, however, he was the first to speak up.Steve sat upright, his shadow a long, straight blade across the table. "Tony, sounds to me like you’re saying we should interfere with mutants."Tony’s grin was a flash of teeth, a knife glinting in the light. "Not interfere, Cap. Just manage the situation. Making sure people are not getting hurt. Right now, it's looking bad on TV. Avengers didn't get involved with mutants' internal issues because we didn't want to overstep the boundary. But the boundary is crossed when mutants are causing explosions in the middle of the street. That's my point."The room hushed. Clint, who was usually a talkative member of Avengers, stayed quiet. Both Rhodey and Natasha stared out the window as if the clouds held better answers than the conversation. Even Vision, who brought rationality and logic to the team, said nothing. The quietude wasn’t a form of agreement. It was avoidance.Steve broke the silence. "The boundary was already crossed the moment Avengers were formed. Every one of us had gotten some kind of fight on the streets, endangering people. What’s the line between them and us?"Tony leaned back, the chair creaking under the pressure. "The line’s drawn by the people, Rogers. Right now, people are screaming for someone to take accountability."None argued against Tony. The meeting adjourned shortly after that, not with a bang but with the shuffle of chairs and the low murmur of words.Hours later when the skyline blazed orange and red, Tony’s phone buzzed—a secure line. Only a few could be as discreet and covert enough to hide their identity, but one name came to Tony's mind."Tony Stark," he said, dissembling a cheerful tone, all the while he swirled a glass of Chardonnay."Mr. Stark." The voice on the other end was as smooth as oiled silk, but there was a hidden venom beneath it. It belonged to no other than Helmut Zemo, the key advisor to Senator Stern. "Senator Stern’s office has been working on a legislative proposal."“I’m all ears,” Tony said, his tone a lazy drawl, though his fingers tightened around the glass.“It’s called Superhuman-Mutant Registration Act,” Zemo went on, "a way to ensure people—and mutants—are held accountable. But it’s not just a law. It’s part of something larger. I'm sure you heard about Project Insight."Tony’s lips thinned into a line. "I've heard something along that.""It’s the next phase," Zemo said, each word deliberate. "If the Avengers won’t take control, we will. Quite frankly, Mr. Stark, Avengers did nothing but watch mutants destroy cities and hurt innocent people. How bad does it have to get in order for Avengers to do something about it?"Tony stared at the city below him, his reflection fractured in the champagne glass. "How bad is it now?""Why don’t you go and ask the victims yourself?" Zemo replied. The call ended with a click, leaving him alone with the wine in his hand.Tony hurried toward the hospital, trudging his feet through its bustling corridors. He wore a black business suit and red tie, appearing immaculate and crisp, but his face blanched and looked fraught.In one room, a woman gripped the bed railing of her son’s hospital bed. Her eyes were red from crying, and her voice was hoarse from screaming. "Where were you?" she shouted after spotting Tony. "You are the Avengers! Aren’t you supposed to protect us? Aren’t you supposed to stop things like this?"Tony went slack, the weight of the accusations pressing him down like a hammer to the nail.Another man limped forward, his hand bandaged and trembled. "We trusted you. You let it happen to us."Tony tried to speak, yet the words rang hollow, echoed meaningless against the faces of victims. "I’m sorry," he said at last; the apology felt like ashes in his mouth.The woman collapsed into her chair, sobbing, her resentment too large for the room to contain. Tony turned and left, the voices following him down the hallway like ghosts. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. The first call went to Rhodey."Rhodey, can you work with Vision to find out the leader of the mutants, the one who's calling the shots? I want to know everything about them. Where they are, what they’re planning, who they’re connected to."There was a pause. "Tones, are you sure about this?""No," Tony admitted, his voice low. "But it's the only way we can make it right."After ending the call, he looked back at the hospital. Above, the sky spanned long and uncaring, and he was a corybantic animal in a cage.
The evening had settled into its usual rhythm of noises (people talking, cars rumbling) when Sam heard it—his birth name carried faintly through the air. It wasn’t a shout, nor a whisper, but a resonance that tickled his hearing in a way that felt strangely cautious."Val Zod," the voice called again, smooth and clear. It wasn’t frantic or pleading, but persistent, like it knew exactly how to find him.Following the sound, Sam rose into the air, his wings flapping behind him. The city faded into the suburbs and then gave way to the vast open space of North Salem. Below him, a belt of greenery stretched out—a sprawling estate framed by a wrought-iron gate. Beyond the gate was a mansion, its silhouette munificent and grandiose in wealth, lights glowing from its windows. The mansion was alive with life: children talking in the distance, some floating, some glowing, others displaying powers in flashes against the sunset sky.Sam descended gently, his boots touching the soft grass with barely a sound. The voice had drawn him here, and standing a few yards away was the man he instinctively knew had called him.An old, bald man sat in his wheelchair near the steps leading to the mansion’s grand entrance. "Welcome, Val Zod," he said, inclining his head curtly. "I am Charles Xavier, professor at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Thank you for answering the call."Sam quirked a brow, a small smile creeping upon his visage. "Benefits of super hearing. You’ve got a unique way of getting my attention.""I must confess. I initially attempted to reach you telepathically. It seems your Kryptonian mind is... resistant to my method."Sam folded his arms, his smile widening. "Yeah, telepathy doesn’t work on me, but your voice did the trick. This is your school for mutants, right?""It is," Charles replied. "A sanctuary where young mutants can learn to understand and control their powers. We teach them to embrace their identities, their powers, not suppress them. This is their home."Sam looked around, taking in the sight of a group of students near the far end of the grounds practicing their abilities. A Jewish girl went through the tree, while an Asian girl beside her sparked something like a firework with another mutant. Laughter amongst the children rang out, clear and unguarded."It's nice to see this," Sam said, his voice soft. "A place where they can just be themselves without any judgment.""That’s precisely what we strive for," Charles said, his gaze leveled on him. "You, Val Zod, embody that hope. You are an alien—a being of great power—yet you walk among humans, protecting them, inspiring them. You show these children that they, too, can aspire to be their true selves without fear. I want to thank you for that.""No need to thank me," Sam said shyly, his face burned by the compliments. Then the jocose conversation went solemn. "Professor Xavier, I'm actually here to see you for something else.""Is it about the fighting yesterday?""Yes," Sam replied. "It's attracting alotta negative attention. The media loves a fight, especially when it’s mutants. If the public keeps seeing these, they will see mutants as a threat. It’s only going to make things worse.""I understand completely," Charles said with a nod. "That’s why I’m working to ensure there will be no further incidents. Magneto’s arrest at Krakoa has helped stabilize some of more radical elements in Brotherhood of Mutants. Wanda and Pietro are also training in our school. We will make sure they can control their powers.""That’s good to hear. Even so, you’re still facing an uphill battle.""I am," Charles admitted. "I’ll be testifying before the House Judiciary Committee next week. There’s a bill that could protect mutant rights, a chance to codify our rights in this world as equals, not threats.""If you need my help, I’ll be there. No matter what."Charles smiled warmly. "Thank you, Val Zod. Your presence alone would mean more than you know."
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The late afternoon light streamed through the tall windows of the new apartment, painting the living room golden. Steve stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed, surveying the scattered cardboard boxes that still cluttered the room. The cozy apartment, featuring hardwood floors and two bedrooms with one and a half bathrooms, barely fit within Sam and Steve's budget. However, it offered a stunning view of the bustling New York City streets that most people would die for. Needless to say, they were pleased with their new home despite their limited income.Steve, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans, started unpacking books from a box labeled BOOKSHELVES. One by one, he carefully arranged each book on the shelf.
Sam, leaning against the doorway, smirked and said, "You know, we could finish this in just two seconds."Steve turned, raising an eyebrow. "We?""Alright, I could have this done less than that." Before Steve could respond, Sam blurred into action. He moved so fast that the air shifted into a breeze, leaving only a faint red streak in the room. Within seconds, every box was unpacked—every book, every photo case, and every clay vase Steve was so protective of, all neatly arranged in their rightful places. Books stood in perfect rows, kitchen items were stored away, and even Steve's paintings were hung on the walls.When Sam returned to his original position, arms on his hips and grinning, Steve just stared at the now-pristine apartment. He shook his head and a bemused smile tugged at his lips. "That’s cheating, Sammie.""No, cheating is when you run ten miles ahead before the race starts.""Is that a dig toward me?"Sam let out a chuckle. "You heard that right, old man.""This old man is gonna teach you a lesson." Then Steve closed the distance between them. His hands moved instinctively to Sam’s waist, pulling him closer as Sam dragged Steve forward into a kiss.Melting into the kiss, Sam savored the feel of Steve’s heat on his mouth and waist; the warmth and inner strength of his body was something Sam had come to crave. And when he finally pulled away, his skin still tingled from Steve's touches."We should probably get ready. The guests will be here soon," Steve mumbled against his lips.
"Guests?" Sam asked, heading toward the kitchen."Natasha and Bucky." Steve paused, glancing back. "You thinking about bringing Sarah by to see the place?"Sam shook his head with a laugh. "Sarah’s busy wrangling babies right now. I’ll FaceTime her after dinner. Let her see the place without getting on the plane."Steve nodded. "Fair enough. I'm going to shower.""Sure."In the kitchen, Sam moved with ease, slicing vegetables first, then seasoning chicken, and grilling beef ribs, his fluidity and practice coming from years of experience at his family’s restaurant. The scent of onion and spices soon filled the apartment, mingling with the faint hum of the city outside.The doorbell rang just after Sam finished setting the oven timer. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and opened the door to find Natasha and Bucky standing there. Natasha carried a pecan pie in one hand and a chocolate cake in the other. Bucky, on the other hand, had a small bakery box tucked under his arm."Hey," Sam said, stepping aside to let them in. "Come on in, make yourselves at home."Natasha handed him the desserts. "Where’s Steve? You better not be doing all the unpacking yourself."Sam grinned. "Steve’s in the shower. And, for the record, he did help. It’s just faster when I do it.""Of course it is."Sam turned to Bucky, whose face wrestled with a mix of emotions (embarrassment, guilt, and possibly shame). They exchanged a handshake that morphed into a clumsy hug. Bucky's rapid heartbeat thudded in Sam's ears, each throb ringing like an alarm, and the warmth of his breath against Sam's neck was difficult to ignore.Sam's heart thumped. A vivid flash of Bucky's confession swam to his mind, flooding back the guilt and attraction he had repressed to the depth. In a futile attempt to recollect himself, he took a deep breath and shifted his gaze downward, plainly and steady as it could be, forcing his tone to be casual when he pivoted with a question, "How’s everything at Avengers Tower?"There was a pinch of Bucky's mouth, one Sam recognized as irritation, or annoyance, probably both, and he answered gruffly, "It’s fine. Could use Steve back, though. Stark’s driving everyone nuts."Sam walked back to the kitchen with the desserts. "You’re not getting Steve back anytime soon, pal. He's with me.""Don’t remind me," Bucky mumbled under his breath.As if on signal, Steve emerged from the bathroom a moment later, his blond hair damp and combed back. He wore a light button-down shirt that looked freshly ironed. “Nat, Buck,” he said, joining at Sam's side and wrapping his arm around his hips. "Glad you made it.""Barely," Natasha responded, helping Sam to set the dining table. "Traffic’s a nightmare out there."“As expected,” Steve replied with a chuckle, pressing a quick peck on Sam's cheeks."Ugh." Natasha made a face. "Get a room, lovebirds."Sam grinned. "We did."Bucky averted his gaze from the tableau. He strained a crooked smile and said, "Dinner smells amazing.""That’s all Sam," Steve said, clinking two plates together while he carried them to the dining table. "He’s been a Superman in the kitchen tonight."Natasha scrunched up her nose. "Superspeed cooking? That’s new."Sam laughed and stirred the sauce simmering on the stove. “Hey, I didn't use my powers to cook tonight. Couple of nights before, sure."The dinner—roast chicken, grilled beef short ribs, sautéed vegetables, and garlic mashed potatoes—assembled on the table. Natasha and Bucky's desserts sat on the counter, waiting their turn.They gathered around the table and settled into their seats, reaching for their plates. Over the meal, the atmosphere buzzed with badinages until a lively discussion interrupted them."All eyes are on mutants," Natasha started the topic of the evening. "Every channel’s showing footage of the explosion. It's looking real bad.""Most mutants are living in peace," Sam said, tearing a piece of meat off the short ribs. "It’s not like they’re out there looking for trouble."Bucky, sitting to Steve's right, chewed down a slice of chicken breast. "Peace or not, things are going to escalate. People are riled up by these attacks."
"Mutants are not trying to start a war," Sam retorted, his voice rising slightly. "X-Men are teaching kids to control their powers, how to live without being afraid of themselves. Without people like Xavier and his team, things would be way worse."Natasha exhaled a sigh. "I get that, Sam. I do. But the news isn’t going to cover that side of the story. They didn't see the kids controlling their powers. What they saw was the explosions, the casualties caused by the mutants. The media has already decided who the villains are. Mutants don’t stand a chance in the court of public opinion.""When has the media ever portrayed mutants as good?" Sam slammed down his fork on the table. "They’ve always profiled them as criminals. The same way they used to do with me."Bucky frowned. "Your situation’s different. People see you as a hero.""Have you read my record, Bucky?"The room collapsed into stillness. Natasha and Bucky shared a glance, a quick and sharp look, then turned away saying nothing, yet saying everything. Sam leaned in, his elbows heavy on the table, his violet eyes pinning them in place. "You have, haven’t you? You know what I am."Neither of them answered."I’m a superpowered alien," Sam went on, his voice carrying more steel. "I live here as an illegal immigrant under the administration that would lock me up or dissect me in a lab if the wrong people found out what I am. The Avengers—Steve, you guys—you helped me hide my identity from the media and World Security Council. You covered for me. But who’s helping the mutants?"No one spoke. Even Steve, listening silently, leaned forward, his expression pensive.Sam’s voice softened. "If I don’t stand for them, who will? They’re being unfairly judged for things they can’t control, things they were born with. People forget that they’re just like everyone else. Just humans."The topic didn't pick up afterward, the buoyant energy dwindled into the quiet of the night. Natasha and Bucky said their goodbyes after the dinner, leaving Steve and Sam to themselves.In their bedroom's soft, muted glow, Steve nestled behind Sam, his arm draped possessively around Sam's hips, drawing him in a little closer beneath the sheets like the sides of the other coin. The steady rhythm of Steve’s breathing fanned softly against the back of Sam’s neck. It was a sound that anchored Sam, a heartbeat in the stillness of the night.Sam turned slightly, fingers drawing absent patterns along Steve’s forearm. "I met Charles yesterday night."Steve’s body tensed just barely, but he said nothing at first. Sam could feel him processing the information, the slight hitch in his breath before he loosened his grip slightly."The leader of X-Men?" Steve finally asked.Sam nodded, eyes fixed on the shadows playing along the ceiling. "Yeah. He called me—literally, not telepathically. Krytonian's mind is pretty resistant to telepathy. Guess that's another power I didn't know about."Steve huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, then nuzzled the space between Sam’s shoulder blades."He’s planning to testify before Congress," Sam said. "There’s a bill that could protect mutant rights. Charles will stand in front of the House and make his case."Steve's hands tightened around Sam’s waist. "And what will you do?""I plan to support him," Sam replied.Steve fell silent."I know Avengers won’t get involved," Sam continued, "not officially. You, Tony, Nat—you all have to stay neutral because of politics, because of what it means for the team"—he sighed, voice dropping even lower—"but I don’t have that luxury."Steve laid a gentle kiss on the back of Sam’s neck, his lips pooling warmth there, lingering like a quiet prayer before he pulled away just enough to let the words slip free. "Whatever you do, I support you. All the way.""You sure?""I just want you to be careful and safe.”Sam reached down, lacing his fingers through Steve’s. "I will.""Then I have nothing to worry about."
The day cracked open with a boom. The thunderclaps of gunfire sliced through the air, bullets ricocheting off steel and pavement. AIM soldiers in their insect-yellow suits swarmed the streets, their advanced rifles spitting red-hot plasma into the building. Sirens shrieked, and the glass exploded—ka-shh!—windows fracturing into glistening rain. People screamed, running, tripping, clawing for safety in the chaos.Steve raised his shield, the clang of bullets bouncing off vibranium ringing like war drums. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint jogged through the streets, knocking down AIM agents one at a time. Rhodey, in his War Machine armor, strafed the sky, missiles firing in controlled bursts, cratering swarms of AIM soldiers.Then the sky rumbled. A rolling growl of thunder folded in the air, the storm itself waiting for its cue, and—KRA-KOOOM!—the heavens split open, a jagged spear of white-hot electricity streaking down, obliterating a cluster of AIM soldiers in a blinding blast.Storm descended from above, her silver hair rippling like strands of moonlight contrast against her dark cape that billowed behind her, while her eyes sparkled with white fury, and a tempest of ringlets crackled electricity through the wind.The next thing Avengers knew, AIM soldiers yanked up, flung like ragdolls—one into a streetlamp with CLANG, another crashing through a car windshield in a loud bang. Jean Grey stood in the middle of the street, her arms stretched outward to conduct the retaliation. Next to her Cyclops fired bursts of optic energy, red beams cutting through the guns, sending soldiers crumpling into unconscious heaps.Jean’s voice echoed inside their minds. "They planted bombs under the building. Four of them. I know exactly where."Steve barely had time to nod before the team was already moving to the destinations according to Jean's instructions. They tore through AIM’s remaining forces, vibranium fists and electric batons flashing, gunfire popping in tight bursts—pop-pop-pop!—until each of them reached the bomb sites.Natasha crouched, her brows furrowed while she scrutinized the snarl of tangled wires. "This one’s got a fail safe. We cut the wrong one, it blows.""Let me look," Vision’s voice hummed. He phased through the ground beside her, his synthetic mind already processing the circuitry.A second passed, an eternity stretched thin.“The blue wire,” Vision said at last.Natasha exhaled, steady hands moving in, blade slicing—snip.The small red light on the bomb flickered then faded. Natasha clicked on her earpiece. "Guys, you good on your end?""Yes," came Steve's voice."What about the other locations?""Ten four. It's good on my side."Around the Avengers, the crowd began to congeal now that AIM forces were contained, the mass of faces swirling with curiosity and awe. Along with them came the reporters, flocking to the scene for the news. Cameras rolled while a throng of reporters flooded the site."Captain America, will you give a statement?"Steve straightened his shoulders, hands on his hips, shield slung across his back. The rest of the team stood behind him. He glanced toward his team and then replied, "AIM is effectively neutralized. The bombs are dismantled.""What does this mean for Avenger's relationship with mutants? Are you officially working with them now?""X-Men are honorable. They have risked everything today to protect the people. We’re grateful for their help."More flashes—snap-snap—more questions, overlapping, piled upon them with this statement.Another voice, sharper, pried: "How do you feel about the mutant rights bill currently in Congress?"Steve caught the quick flicker of Rhodey’s hand, a subtle wave—don’t answer that. Natasha, beside him, barely shook her head, just once, but it was enough. He could hear the silent plea between them—stay neutral, Steve. He could say no comment and be done with it, except he saw the looks on X-Men team: resignation, trust, and despair."Mutants," Steve heard himself saying aloud, "deserve the same rights as everyone else."The crowd roared, voices lifting into a storm of reactions—applause, gasps, cheers, outrage, all at once.
Tony sat in the private cabin of his jet, fingers tapping against the glass of his whiskey, the ice inside tinkling softly, melting slowly, too slowly for his liking, the amber liquid untouched but necessary. The plane hummed beneath him, cutting through the night sky in a stable motion, but his mind—his mind was nowhere near stable, it was a whirlwind of furor.He scrolled through his phone, the screen glowing blue against the sharp angles of his face, the news headline staring back at him, mocking him in all bolded caps.
"Captain America Declares Support for Mutant Rights—Avengers and X-Men Unite Against AIM."
Tony ran a hand down his face, sighing, deep and filled with exasperation. He swiped, another headline—
"Captain America Speaks Out: ‘Mutants Deserve Equal Rights.’"
Swiped again—
"Avengers' Official Stance on Mutants? Captain America Breaks Silence."
"Jesus, Cap," Tony muttered, rubbing his forehead, feeling the tension creep up his neck, needling into his skull, because this—this was a mess, a goddamn mess, and Rogers had just thrown gasoline onto the fire, made it a full blown PR disaster.He searched Rhodey's name and hit call.Rhodey picked up the call, voice groggy and tired. "Tony, it's past midnight.""You seeing the news?" Tony snapped, skipping pleasantries, because he wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries after Avengers was dragged into a political trainwreck.A pause. Then, a sigh. "Yeah, I saw it."Tony massaged his temples, tamping down his bursts of anger. "What the hell was Steve thinking? He just painted a damn target on all of us. Do you know what this means? Congress is gonna breathe down our necks, and the whole WSC will schedule a sit down with us, and we still haven’t handled the fallout from the last mutant fight.""Tony," Rhodey said firmly, "let Steve be Cap and handle it."Tony gritted his teeth. "Handle it? Handle what, exactly? The PR nightmare he just dumped into our laps? The pissed-off families who are still grieving over the last time mutants and Brotherhood tore up the city? The next damn riot waiting to happen because people are scared?"Rhodey let out a loud sigh. "I hear you, Tones, but you and I both know Steve's personality. We know why he said it. The mutants did help us against AIM. And, yeah, he could’ve played it safe in front of the media, but that’s never been him."Tony didn’t answer because Rhodey was right. Steve had always been like this, stubborn and righteous and unable to keep his mouth shut when it came to something he believed in. It’s what made him Captain America; it’s what made him a pain in Tony’s ass."We’ll figure this out."Tony huffed out a bitter laugh. "Figure this out? What’s there to figure out? Rogers already made the call, set the stage. We’re all just extras in the damn show now.""If something happens," Rhodey placated, "I’ll let you know. We'll talk it out."Tony leaned back and let the phone fall onto the table with a dull clunk, washing his face with both hands and loosening a long, exhausted breath.And then his phone buzzed again.A text from Zemo.Tony stared at it, then opened it, eyes narrowing on the playing clip.
A faraway camera shot, probably security footage, the long-distance, slightly blurred sight of Sam landing on the lawn of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.His nails dug into the palm. He replayed the clip, and again, then exhaled, jaw locking, grip tightening around his phone until he felt his skin burned and taut over his knuckles.