Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Pony’s POV

It had been a couple of years since the events that ended in Bob’s death and the Windrixville fiasco. That summer had felt like it changed my whole life, like we’d all grown up faster than we should’ve. Luckily, after much physical therapy, Johnny was back to his old self. Even with a very slight limp, he moved with the same quiet determination he always had, like he wasn’t going to let the past win.

It was the beginning of my senior year of high school at 16 years old, and I had just gotten my driver’s license. Darry was already on me about finishing my college applications so I could send them off with scholarship applications. I knew he meant well, that he wanted better for me, but sometimes it felt like having a drill sergeant for a guardian.

Soda and Steve had gotten an apartment together and were still working at the DX. They had both been promoted to manager. Soda was the store manager, while Steve was the manager of the car shop. I could tell Soda was proud, even if he tried to play it cool.

Two-Bit was still living at home while Johnny and Dally had gotten an apartment together. Dally was working at Buck’s still, while Johnny was working at the Dairy Queen part-time while taking nursing school classes at the community college.

It was weird being at home with just Darry sometimes. But the gang was still constantly over like usual, so we weren’t alone all the time. Things had gotten better between Darry and me, but we still weren’t close like I was with Soda.

Luckily, Steve and Soda had fixed up a clunker that was dumped at work, which I was able to drive. They even had a friend who was a mechanic to double-check their work, and it was cleared for me to drive. I didn’t care that it wasn’t pretty; it was mine.

I had just pulled into the driveway at home when Two-Bit pulled up behind me.

Two-Bit had a mischievous look on his face that only meant trouble.

“Oh no,” I groaned as I got out of the car with my backpack slung over my shoulder. “I know that look. What do you have up your sleeve, Two?”

Two-Bit beamed at me while shaking his head, chuckling.

“Hey now,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “I can have a good idea every now and then.”

Two-Bit followed me into the house. I grabbed a beer from the fridge and handed it to him. Two-Bit took it willingly. He popped it open without missing a beat, eyes glinting with the kind of excitement that always got us in over our heads.

“So,” I said. “What is this big story of yours?”

Two-Bit grinned.

“I’m glad you asked,” Two-Bit said. “Have you heard of the old abandoned house that is on the very edge of town? The one that everyone says has a blue glow and a buzzing noise for it?”

I had heard stories about it around town. It had started over the summer. Kids swapping rumors, daring each other to go near it, always backing out at the last minute.

“I’ve heard about it,” I said slowly. “Where are you going with this, Two-Bit?”

I didn’t like where this was going. Two-Bit’s ideas were always hare-brained.

“I think we should sneak into it,” Two-Bit said. “Try to scope out those rumors. Everyone else is too chicken to do it. I plan on convincing the rest of the gang to do it. Tonight.”

“I don’t know about this, Two,” I said reluctantly. “It’s not a good idea. I want to play it safe, especially after the events that happened with Bob. Plus, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the guardianship. Especially since I have two years left, and things have been better with Darry and me.”

Two-Bit nodded.

“Come on, Pone,” Two-Bit begged. “Don’t be such a worrywart. I just know I can get Darry to come around. I could use the ruse of adult supervision.”

“Let’s just see what Darry says,” I said in surrender. “I have to get started on homework to even have Darry consider letting me go.”

Two-Bit nodded.

“You get to it, Pony,” Two-Bit said, leaning back on the couch. “I’m going to watch Mickey until the gang gets here for dinner.”

I grabbed my backpack from a kitchen chair and went into my bedroom to work on my homework.

I wasn’t looking forward to Darry’s mood when Two-Bit told him his hare-brained idea. It would bode well. I could already picture Darry’s face when Two pitched the idea.

Before I knew it, it was dinner time. Darry had made hamburgers with corn on the cob and baked beans. The whole gang was over. Steve and Soda had been arm wrestling earlier, like usual. Dally had been lounging on the front porch with Johnny while he was smoking a cigarette. Right before Darry had called to say that dinner was ready, I had just finished my homework.

“Thanks for dinner, Superman,” Steve said with a full mouth. “The burgers taste good. Is there any chocolate cake tonight?”

Darry rolled his eyes.

“You and your chocolate cake,” Darry groaned. “But yes, there is chocolate cake in the fridge.”

Steve pumped his fist in the air.

“I’ve got an idea for the gang to do tonight,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

“Oh no,” Dally groaned. “What hare-brained idea do you have now?”

“Probably something stupid,” Darry grumbled.

“Hey now,” Soda said. “It could be something fun. Plush, we haven’t done anything fun together since Pony’s birthday a month ago.”

“So spit it out, Two,” Steve grumbled.

“I was telling Pony earlier that we should go check out the abandoned house on the edge of town that has the buzzing sound and blue glow coming from it,” Two-Bit said giddily.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Johnny said nervously. “There’s probably a good reason why no one goes over there.”

“That’s just asking for trouble,” Darry grumbled. “We are not doing it.”

“Come on, Dar,” Soda begged. “It’s probably something harmless. Someone probably just put blue lightbulbs into the light fixtures and left a radio or a TV on.”

“Or something like that,” Dally mumbled while taking a sip of beer.

“Does Dally actually believe in ghosts?” Johnny asked in surprise.

“No,” Dally covered with a sneer. “Just get bad vibes.”

“Come on,” Two-Bit begged. “The kid finished his homework, and if Darry goes, we can’t get into much trouble. We’ll have adult supervision.”

Darry groaned as he dragged a tired hand down his face.

“Fine,” Darry grumbled. “But no shenanigans. If something feels off, we’re leaving. Capeesh?”

“Capeesch,” we all said together.

After everyone finished shoveling down their food and helping clean up, we all piled into our cars and drove over to that old abandoned house.

We all got out of our cars and stared at the house.

“Everyone has their flashlights ready?” Two-Bit asked.

“Yep,” I said, clicking mine on and off.

“Got your pepper spray too?” Darry asked.

“Yep,” Johnny said, lifting his up and his thumb hovering over the button to spray it.

“I’ve got some walkie-talkies from Buck,” Dally grumbled.

Dally grabbed a box from his car and started passing it to everyone.

“Let’s get a move on,” Soda said as he ran towards the door.

“I don’t know why he finds this so fun,” Steve grumbled. “It’s a waste of time.”

Two-Bit whacked him on the back of the head.

Darry went with Two-Bit, and Soda, and Steve went off somewhere, so it left Johnny, me, and Dally together.

“This is so stupid,” Dally grumbled. “We’re too old for this.”

We moved through dusty rooms that smelled of rot and old plaster. My flashlight beam caught cobwebs, peeling wallpaper, and warped floorboards.

We were all just rummaging around the house when I noticed a blue glow coming from what looked to be a trap door in the ceiling of one of the guest bedrooms on the second floor.

The buzzing sound seemed to be the loudest from that.

“You think it’s in there?” Johnny asked me quietly.

I shrugged.

“Maybe,” I said. “Whatever it is, we should check it out. Then we could get out of this place.”

“I’m going to call the guys in,” Dally grumbled. “I’m ready to get out of this joint.”

Dally called the rest of the guys up to the guest bedroom we were in.

“Who wants to lead the way?” Two-Bit asked giddily.

“I will,” Darry grumbled. “So you fools won’t do anything stupid.”

Darry yanked the cord, which led to a ladder that folded down. We all followed Darry up the loader.

When we all got up there, we all looked at a blue glowing cube that was sitting on the floor by itself, buzzing.

“What the hell is that thing?” Steve growled. “And why is it the only thing in this attic?”

I looked around nervously, and sure enough, it was.

“I’m not sure we should be around this thing, guys,” I said nervously.

“I’m going to agree with Pony on this one,” Dally grumbled.

“Come on, guys,” Two-Bit said. “It’s probably just a random light that someone left up here.”

Soda moved towards the cube slowly.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Soda said. “But I get a weird tingly feeling the closer I get to this.”

“Then we should probably leave,” Johnny said nervously.

“Come on, Soda,” Darry said. “Quit fooling around.”

Soda didn’t move. He just seemed entranced by the cube.

“Soda,” I said nervously.

We all stepped forward. That’s when we all felt it. A weird, strange pull to this cube. We were all entranced.

“Do you guys all feel that?” Steve asked nervously.

“We all need to go,” Darry said. “Now.”

“But,” Johnny murmured. “I can’t move.”

That’s when I realized I couldn’t either.

“Darry,” I said in alarm.

Before we could say anything. The blue cube seemed to explode. Waves were coming off it and slamming into all of us, throwing us to the ground. It felt like my body was on fire. There was a blinding blue light, and everything went black.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Soda’s POV

I don’t know what it was about that cube, but something drew me to it. It intrigued me. I guess it’s kind of like how Pony is obsessed with or drawn to his books and movies. But there was something else that was pulling me towards the cube. Something that I couldn’t control. But before I knew it, the cube exploded with light and invisible rays coming from it.

Everything had gone black. A painful blackness. Not like falling asleep, more like getting yanked underwater and held there.

I didn’t know how long I was out. I don’t know if I even wanted to know. But when I started to come aware, everything was foggy. I had the worst headache that I've ever had. Worse than a hangover. The air smelled sterile, sharp, like disinfectant. My hands moved over rough sheets until I realized I was lying on a narrow cot. That didn’t make sense. We’d been in an attic. My hands started to feel around frantically.

I slowly blinked awake and slowly sat up.

I looked down. I was wearing what appeared to be a hospital robe.

My heart started beating fast.

“Pony?” I called. “Darry?”

I looked around blearily.

That’s when I saw my brothers and my friends starting to slowly waking up around me. They were each on their own beds in hospital gowns.

Darry grabbed his head and winced.

“Soda?” Darry asked wearily, but alarmed. “Where are we?”

“I was about to ask you that,” I said. “You ok?”

“Just a bad headache,” Darry groaned. “You?”

“Same,” I said. “Pony?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a headache this bad,” Pony groaned.

“What the hell happened to our clothes?” Dally groaned.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” A voice boomed through what sounded like an intercom.

“Who the hell is that?” Steve groaned, wincing. “Where are you? And what do you want?”

We all looked around frantically until we saw a guy in a suit standing outside the plexiglass enclosure we were in.

“Good morning,” the man said. “I’m Agent Dugan. I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“What the hell is that?” Johnny groaned, clutching his head.

“It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division,” Agent Dugan said. “We were only founded a couple of years ago.”

“Why the hell are we in hospital gowns and trapped in this glass shell?” Dally growled.

“Well,” Agent Dugan said. “You boys came across an object called a Tesseract. It’s a powerful space stone. We’ve been looking for it since it disappeared after WWII. You boys had the unfortunate luck of finding it. But I guess the stone took a liking to your lot and decided to give you all a gift.”

“What do you mean?” Pony asked, eyes wide.

“Well,” Agent Dugan said. “Since you guys have been here since last night's incident, we’ve done some tests. It seemed like the cube wanted to give you guys some powers. Along with altering your cells so they won’t age.”

“What now?” I said. “You’re saying we have superpowers like Captain America, and we’re stuck at this age forever?”

Agent Dugan nodded.

“Afraid so,” Agent Dugan said reluctantly.

“You can’t keep us here,” Darry said. “We have lives to live and jobs to get to.”

Agent Dugan clucked his tongue.

“We can and we will,” Agent Dugan said. “Until you guys get your powers controlled. Then you might be able to help us.”

“Why should we make a deal with you?” Two-Bit sneered.

“Since you don’t have a choice,” Agent Dugan said. “Right now, you guys are dangerous to society. If we don’t control your powers, you can harm the community.”

“What powers do we have?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Why don’t you put on your uniforms, and you can test them out?” Agent Dugan said with a smirk. “They’re under your beds.

We all looked under our beds, and sure enough, our everyday clothes were folded in a pile next to a uniform of some sort.

We all reluctantly put ours on.

Mine was a streamlined, retro-inspired speed suit in navy with white racing stripes. Lightweight and aerodynamic. I had a vintage bomber jacket over the suit, emblazoned with a stylized pulse wave logo on the back. The jacket has Kevlar lining for light protection. My mask was just mirrored aviator goggles. My boots had custom traction soles. They were nicer than anything that I’ve ever owned. I had a symbol on my uniform, a stylized, grinning mouth with a heartbeat line running through it, placed over my left chest.

Darry’s uniform was a heavy-duty utility suit in deep blue-gray with reinforced shoulder and chest plating, similar to tactical SWAT gear but sleeker. He had a shielded visor for heavy combat. He also had military-grade pouches with grappling line, med kits, and reinforced knuckle guards on a belt. He had reinforced steel-toe boots with shock absorption for high-impact landings. Darry’s symbol was a solid silver shield emblem over the heart; simple, strong, unbreakable.

Pony’s uniform was a sleek, tactical bodysuit in deep charcoal with flexible plating over the chest, forearms, and shins. He had armor panels have faint grooves that emit soft, color-shifting light. The lights seemed to be changing frantically, so they must be tied to something. He had a slim tactical visor that could flip down for enhanced vision. Pony had light-projector discs on his palms for illusions and shields, lined with micro-lenses to focus beams. He had an iridescent light field that could be projected around him like a flowing cloak during high-energy use. Pony’s symbol was a subtle, stylized open book emblem over the left breastplate, glowing faintly.

Johnny’s uniform was a matte black leather armor with a burn-texture finish, reinforced with heat-resistant carbon fiber. Ember-like veins pulse across the suit when he powers up. He had a half-mask respirator to filter smoke, painted with faint ash streaks, and goggles with orange-red lenses for fire vision. Johnny had a long, tattered ash cloak that disintegrated into real ash when ignited, reforming when cooled down. He had flame-retardant gloves with fingertip igniters for precision flame control; hidden ash grenades. His symbol was a small, faint phoenix silhouette burned into the leather on the right shoulder.

Dally’s uniform was a lack and dark steel-gray urban combat armor, scuffed and dented, layered with ballistic plates but intentionally light on padding to let hits fuel his powers. He had ​​steel knuckles and was wrapped with leather straps for gloves. Dally had a magnetic holster system for street weapons, smoke cartridges, and throwing knives. His symbol was a jagged silver lightning bolt on the chest, designed to look like it’s been scratched in with a blade.

Two-Bit’s uniform was a patchwork tactical suit in purple, red, and black, patterned with subtle playing card symbols that was flexible, designed for agility. He had a half-domino mask in mismatched colors; sometimes swaps them mid-fight just to throw enemies off. Two-Bit had a short-cropped coat with reversible colors (bright on one side, stealthy on the other). He had a satchel full of prank-based explosives, slippery gels, and noise makers. His symbol was an ace of Spades printed sideways across the chest.

Steve’s uniform was a dark bronze and black armored jumpsuit with exposed mechanical components. (Like a stripped-down Iron Man Mark suit mixed with biker gear.). He had a flip-down welding visor with a HUD interface for hacking and machine control. His gloves were high-tech gauntlets with rotating gear-like joints that glowed faint blue when controlling machinery. Steve also had a back-mounted collapsible drone tool, wrist ports for hijacking vehicles remotely. His symbol was a crossed wrench-and-gear insignia over the heartplate.

“When did you have the time to make these?” Pony asked in awe.

“We did so last night per your powers,” Agent Dugan said with a smile. “We designed them based on your powers. There are hints in them.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“So,” Two-Bit said giddily. “Can we try our powers?”

Agent Dugan chuckled.

“One at a time,” Agent Dugan said. “Soda, why don’t you go first. You have super speed and charm hypnosis. Why don’t you try out your boots? They have traction control.”

I raised my eyebrows and ran around the room. It felt freeing.

“You might have some competition, Pone,” I giggled after a few laps.

“That’s so cool,” Pony said.

I smiled at Darry, which seemed to cause him to relax.

“What the hell?” Darry grumbled.

“That’s part of his charm hypnosis,” Agent Dugan said.

“Creepy,” Dally shuddered.

“Pony,” Agent Dugan said. “You have empathic telepathy and light manipulation. The lights in your suit change with your mood.”

So that’s what I saw earlier.

Pony looked at Johnny.

“I can feel your nervousness and fear in waves,” Pony murmured in awe. “It feels weird.”

Pony moved his hands, and then Johnny seemed to calm down, and Pony’s eyes widened.

“Did you just make me calm down?” Johnny asked.

“I think I did,” Pony said with a small smile.
“That might come in handy with the fights you have with Darry,” Two-Bit joked.

Darry scowled.

We heard something clang in the distance, which caused Pony to flinch. When he flinched, a light shield seemed to appear.

“Cool,” Pony said.

“Why don’t you give it a shot, Johnny?” Agent Dugan said. “You have fire and ash manipulation.”

Agent Dugan walked over to a pile of wood and lit it on fire with a lighter.

Johnny lifted his hands and was able to create art with the fire. He bent it into the air. He scattered the ash with it.

“That would’ve come in handy with the fire in Windrixville,” Steve grumbled.

I wacked him upside the head.

After Johnny was done, Agent Dugan turned to Dally.

“Dallas,” Agent Dugan said sternly. “Your powers are kinetic energy absorption. You can absorb energy from moving objects and use it as energy blasts.”

There was a large Newton’s Cradle in the room. Agent Dugan lifted one of the large balls and let go. Causing Newton’s Cradle to do its thing.

“Go ahead,” Agent Dugan said.

Dally moved so he could absorb the energy from the cradle. After Dally absorbed the energy, he directed it towards a tank that was in the room. It caused the tank to flip into the air and land.

“That’s awesome,” Dally said with a smirk.

Agent Dugan moved towards Two-Bit.

“Keith,” Agent Dugan said. “Your powers are chaos probability, or what we like to call it, luck manipulation. You can mess with reality, and your jokes can throw off enemies.”
Steve groaned.

“So this is going to make him more miserable,” Steve grumbled.

Two-Bit smirked.

Two-Bit tried a few jokes that did cause some chaos. Then he tried some reality manipulation, which caused a few fake doppelgangers of him to appear.

“This is sweet,” Two-Bit said.

“You better not use that on us,” Dally grumbled.

“And Steve,” Agent Dugan said. “Your powers are mechanical telekinesis. You can control and manipulate anything with gears or engines, like cars, bikes, helicopters, and anything else similar.”

“Cool,” Steve said. “So like anything I do for work.”

“Try it out on that car,” Agent Dugan said, pointing to an old Ford car.

Steve was able to start the engine and have it drive without someone driving it. He could also rip it apart and turn it into weapons and other toys.

“This will be awesome,” Steve said with a smirk.

“And last but not least, Darry,” Agent Dugan said. “You have super strength and invulnerability.”

Before Darry could react, Agent Dugan pulled out a gun, pointed it at Darry, and fired.

The bullet collided with Darry’s chest, but there was no mark or wound.

“What the hell!” I shouted. “You ok, Dar?”

Darry frantically felt around his chest.

“Surprisingly, I’m fine,” Darry said.

“Go ahead and lift that tank, Darry,” Agent Dugan said.
Darry moved reluctantly and was able to lift the tank with ease and throw it across the room.

“That’s sick, dude,” Dally said with a grin.

The rest of the day, we all worked on our powers to see how we could control them. It was tiring.

“So,” Johnny said to Agent Dugan at the end of the day. “What happened to the Tesseract?”

“Let me show you,” Agent Dugan said.

We all followed Agent Dugan to a secure room where the Tesseract was.

“What are you going to do with it?” Pony asked.

“We’re going to experiment on it,” Agent Dugan said. “We want…”

Before Agent Dugan could say something, the Tesseract started to vibrate.

“Not this again,” Steve murmured. “Hell no.”

Before we could move, the thing seemed to pull everyone in the gang towards it. Everyone except Agent Dugan.

“Dugan!” Darry shouted. “What’s going on!”

“I,” Agent Dugan stuttered. “ I don’t know.”

Before we could do anything else, a hole formed, and we were sucked through it.

When we landed, the funny thing is that we had a suitcase for each of us with clothes and stuff inside them.

We were standing in an aisle with brick buildings lining it.

There was a skinny, lanky man with brown hair who had a split lip with fists raised towards a few guys.

“I can do this all day,” The guy said.

“What the hell,” Dally said. “That’s a Brooklyn accent.”

“Wait,” Pony said with wide eyes. “Doesn’t Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America, say that?”

“We’re in 1940s Brooklyn,” I said grimly. “Before Steve Rogers becomes Captain America.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Darry’s POV

Brooklyn in the 1940s smelled like coal smoke, hot pretzels, and motor oil. The streets bustled with trolley cars clanging down the tracks, women in floral dresses carrying shopping baskets, and kids darting between lampposts in suspenders and newsboy caps. We stood out like sore thumbs in our uniforms, and I could already feel eyes on us.

Up ahead, a skinny, pale kid with a split lip stood squared off against three bigger men in flat caps and rolled-up sleeves. His voice carried over the street noise.

“I can do this all day,” Steve Rogers said, breathless but defiant.

The bigger guys laughed, shoving him toward the alley wall.

“Well, it looks like he’s getting his ass kicked,” I grumbled. “We need to step in to help.”

“I don’t know, Dar,” Pony murmured, eyes darting nervously. “I don’t want to mess with the timeline.”

“Timeline, schmimeline,” Dally snorted. “Let’s just show these punks something.”

Before I could stop him, Two-Bit cupped his hands and yelled.

“Hey,” Two-Bit shouted. “Assholes, pick on someone your own size.”

The punks turned to see us coming, and that was the end of their fun. With our new abilities, it wasn’t exactly a fair fight. A quick blur from Soda, a flash of light from Pony, and a sharp crack of Dally’s kinetic blast sent them scrambling.

Then we saw Bucky Barnes come running over.

“Steve,” Bucky said. “You good?”

“I’m ok,” Steve Rogers said. “Thanks to these guys. But I had things handled.

Steve scuffed.

“Sure you did,” Steve said.

“What’s with the git ups?” Bucky asked, eyeing us up and down.

“Uh,” Johnny murmured. “Our work uniforms.”

Steve Rogers cocked an eyebrow.

“Some work,” Steve Rogers said.

“Government jobs,” Soda covered. “We work for SHIELD. You probably haven’t heard of it.”

They clearly hadn’t, but the official-sounding name was enough to keep them from asking too many questions.

“Never heard of that, but sounds official enough,” Bucky said. “But, I’m Bucky by the way. Bucky Barnes, and this is my friend Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you both,” I said, stepping forward, shaking their hands. “I’m Darrel ‘Darry’ Curtis, codename Atlas.”

I turned around and started pointing to the gang. I started with Pony.

“This is my youngest brother Ponyboy ‘Pony’ Curtis, codename, Mindlight,” I said. “Next is my middle brother, Sodapop ‘Soda’ Curtis, codename, Pulse. Next is Soda’s best friend, Steve Randall, codename Breaker. Then, my childhood friend Keith ‘Two-Bit’ Matthews, codename Jokester. Our resident bad boy, Dallas ‘Dally’ Winston, codename Reckless. Finally, our resident sweetheart, Johnny Cade, codename Ash. Our government team's name is The Strays. But no one calls us that unless we’re in the field.”

Steve Rogers cocked an eyebrow.

“Sweet,” Steve Rogers said. “How did you guys land that gig? I’ve been trying to join the military to fight in the war, but I’ve just been denied again.”

“Uh,” Steve grumbled. “It just kind of fell into our laps against our will. We were someplace we weren’t supposed to be due to this bozo right hear.”

Steve whacked Two-Bit on the back of the head.

“That’s how we got the gig,” Steve said.

“Did the asthma trip you up again, Steve?” Bucky asked Rogers.

Steve nodded.

“Say, where are you guys from?” Steve Rogers asked us. “You boys don’t have a Brooklyn or any New York accent.”

“We’re originally from Tulsa,” Johnny said. “But before that, Dally here used to buzz around here. So I guess he’s returning to his roots.”

“Well,” Bucky said. “Welcome back home.”

Dally scuffed.

“Let’s just say I hope I have a better experience this time around,” Dally grumbled.

“Do you mind if we tag along with you guys so we can change out of these to blend in?” Soda asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Steve Rogers said. “You guys helped me out.”

We followed Steve and Bucky to a Brooklyn apartment where we were able to change into era-appropriate clothes.

“It seems like the cube knew where it was sending us for some reason and why,” Two-Bit said. “That isn’t weird at all.”

“It looks like it gave us cash too,” Dally said, grinning, grabbing the wads of cash from each of our suitcases.

I grabbed them from him.

“Hey,” Dally spat.

“I’ll look after this,” I said.

As we finished changing, I saw SHIELD badges with our names on them and handed them to the gang. We then met back with Steve Rogers and Bucky in the living room.

“Thanks for your hospitality,” Pony said. “But we’ve imposed enough. We should probably go find a place to stay.”

“Nonsense,” Steve Rogers. “I’m sure my Mom won’t mind if you stay here as long as you're tidy.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But we couldn’t impose.”

“I insist,” Steve Rogers said.

I bit my lip.

“Thanks, Steve,” Soda said. “We’ll be as tidy as possible.”

“We’re going to the World Expo of Tomorrow,” Bucky said with a smirk. “Would you like to join us?”

Johnny’s face brightened.

“Could we?” Johnny asked, eyes wide.

“Sure, Johnnycakes,” Dally drawled. “I don’t see why not.”

“Great,” Bucky said. “Then you came to help me get Steve here some ladies. He just became the best bachelor here in NYC.”

Steve Rogers groaned.

The fairgrounds were enormous, bright banners snapping in the breeze, music blaring from gramophones, the air thick with roasted peanuts and the metallic tang of machinery. Crowds pressed in on all sides, everyone buzzing with excitement.

I was overwhelmed, and I felt out of place.

“Let’s try to blend in,” I said. “No funny business.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Two-Bit said.

“Before we go any further,” Steve said. “How did you come up with those names? They’re stupid.”

I bawked.

“I was on the spot,” I spluttered. “I had to cover our asses, so I improvised. I just elaborated on some truths.”

“It was brilliant, Dar,” Pony said. “Really. Don’t listen to Steve.”

Steve scowled.

“Come on, guys!” Steve Rogers called back to us. “You’re going to miss out!”

“Let’s get moving,” Johnny said with a rare smile.

I locked a hand on Two-Bit so he didn’t scurry off. Pony did the same with Dally. I gave him a wink of encouragement.

Howard Stark’s pavilion drew the biggest crowd. Women in gloves leaned forward eagerly as Stark himself, younger, clean-shaven, and grinning like a showman, unveiled his “flying car.” The chrome gleamed under the spotlights, and the whole display screamed future.

“Spoiler alert,” Dally muttered under his breath. “It doesn’t work.”

“Hold out hope, Dal,” Soda said. “It might someday.”

“Quiet down, guys,” Pony said. “I want to listen.”

Of course, this would interest Pony. At least we could enjoy this with each other.

Steve Rogers was able to slip away for a bit.

“Guys,” I said. “He’s sneaking off.”

“Let’s follow at a safe distance,” Two-Bit said. “So we don’t spook him.”

When Bucky wasn’t looking, we all slipped away as well. We trailed him to the army recruiting station at the fair. A recruiting poster of Uncle Sam hung crooked by the door.

“Not this again,” Johnny said. “The kid is setting himself up for failure.”

Inside, we caught sight of a man in a bow tie and wire-rimmed glasses speaking with Steve, Dr. Abraham Erskine. Pony’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Wait,” Pony said. “Isn’t that Dr. Erskine. The guy who made the super soldier serum?”

“Good eye, Pone,” Soda said.

“This isn’t going to be good,” Dally groaned.

“But if we sneak in with him,” Steve said slowly. “We might be able to keep an eye on him. That’s probably why the cube sent us here.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Dally snapped.

“Really,” Two-Bit said. “It sounds fine.”

“I have to agree with Steve and Two-Bit on this one,” I conceded. “Let’s follow.”

We followed Steve and watched closely. A few quick flashes of our S.H.I.E.L.D. badges got us past the attendants. Steve spun on us as soon as we stepped in.

“What the heck are you guys doing in here?” Steve said. “Did you follow me?”

“Who are you?” Dr. Erskine asked in alarm.

We all flashed our SHIELD badges.

“We’re with SHIELD,” Soda explained. “A secret government agency. We’re cleared. The agency has an interest in Mr. Rogers here.”

“Ok,” Dr. Erskine said. “You ok with them being here?”

Dr. Erskine looked at Steve while asking that.

Steve nodded reluctantly.

Something in the way Erskine studied us told me he knew we weren’t telling the full truth, but he didn’t press. He continued with his evaluation, running Steve through his questions before finally stamping his approval.

“I assume you boys are going to follow him there,” Dr. Erskine said.

“We are,” Pony said nervously.

“Just make sure you show those credentials to get through,” Dr. Erskine said. “I have a feeling you might need those.”

I nodded.

“Why did you follow me?” Steve Rogers demanded.

“Because the agency is interested in you,” Dally spat. “So suck it up. We’re your perpetual shadows.”

“We'd better get ready for war,” Johnny said nervously. “Here goes nothing.”

We followed Steve Rogers home, where he packed.

“Don’t tell Bucky,” Steve Rogers warned us.

Pony made a zipper motion over his mouth.

We packed up our things.

I pulled Soda and Pony aside.

“You stick close at all times,” I said. “I can’t lose you both.”

“We hear you loud and clear, Dar,” Soda said.

“I promise, Darry,” Pony said.

We followed Steve Rogers to the base, where we got ready to shadow everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Two-Bit’s POV

Let’s just say this was probably the scariest and coolest thing I’ve ever done.

First off, it was cool that we had superpowers and that we couldn’t age, but I wasn’t excited about going to war. Especially WWII. Also, I felt somewhat guilty for getting us into this mess to begin with. It was my idea to go into the house.

But it was too late now.

I just wanted to go home and pretend nothing happened, but that wasn’t going to happen. I knew that for sure.

It was the only thing I could be sure about.

While Steve Rogers was being shown around and getting acclimated to the base. Dr. Erskine showed us around.

There we met Colonel Phillips.

“Colonel Phillips,” Dr. Erskine. “I would like you to introduce you to Agents Darry Curtis, Agent Soda Curtis, Agent Pony Curtis, Agent Dally Winston, Agent Johnny Cade, Agent Steve Randall, and Agent Two-Bit Matthews. They’re here to shadow your unit and, in particular, Steve Rogers. They’re apparently with a government organization named SHIELD.”

Colonel Phillips cocked an eyebrow at us and shook each of our hands.

“It’s nice to meet you boys,” Colonel Phillips said hesitantly. “But some of you seem a little young to be working for a government agency. Especially one that I’ve never heard of. Even at my standing.”

We all glanced at each other nervously.

“It’s super highly classified, sir,” I fibbed. “But we have code names, a group code name, badges, and uniforms if you need us to prove it.”

“Let’s see the badges first,” Colonel Phillips grumbled.

We each pulled out the badges, and he inspected them carefully.

“Well, they seem legit,” Colonel Phillips said reluctantly. “Are those uniforms of yours military grade?”

“Yes, sir,” Darry said coolly. “We’re more than willing to help out.”

“Good,” Colonel Phillips grunted. “Keep close. You might come in handy. I’m assuming since your organization is highly classified and secret, you have clearance for the classified stuff?”

“You bet,” Soda said with a grin. “We sure can keep secrets.”

Steve elbowed him.

“What’s SHIELD’s interest in Rogers anyway?” Colonel Phillips asked. “He doesn’t look like much.”

“That’s highly classified, sir,” Dally grunted. “Way above your pay grade.”

Dally seemed to get a kick out of not being able to tell an authority figure something. To my relief, Colonel Phillips didn’t push. But he didn’t look happy about it.

“What are your code names if I can ask for them when we’re in the field?” Colonel Phillips pressed.

“I’m Ash,” Johnny said. “Dally is Reckless. Darry is Atlas. Pony is Mindlight. Steve is Breaker. Soda is Pulse. Two-Bit is Jokester. Our group name is The Strays.”

“That seems creative,” A woman said, walking up to us.

“Gentleman,” Colonel Phillips said. “This is Captain Peggy Carter. She is on loan to us from the British.”

I let out a wolf whistle.

“Hot damn,” I said with a grin.

Captain Carter pursed her lips.

“I don’t appreciate that much, Jokester,” Captain Carter said. “Mind your manners. I can handle myself.”

I nodded as I grinned.

I liked a tough lady.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma'am,” Steve said, stepping forward to shake her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Captain Carter said. “We need all the help we can get. Now, if you will follow the Colonel and me, we have some drills to run. Feel free to watch.”

We followed Colonel Phillips and Captain Carter over to where Steve Rogers' division was lined up to receive marching orders.

Captain Carter started to break in some of the candidates. Then Colonel Phillips gave a speech. I kind of just tuned it out. I was bored. I just wanted to some something, finish whatever we were doing here, and move on. Hopefully home, in our own time.

“Now it’s time for some boot camping training,” Colonel Phillips said. “Get moving, boys!”

The soldiers started running their laps, climbing flag poles, and military crawling with guns under barbed wire.

“Feel free to join them, boys,” Captain Carter said with a smirk.

“I think we had our fair share of boot camp when we joined SHIELD,” Pony said meekly.

This caused Captain Carter to laugh. It looked good on her.

Then came all the physical push-ups.

Captain Carter started verbally berating the soldiers. That was boot camp for you.

“This kind of reminds me of my time in the yard when I was in the slammer,” Dally drawled.

“I’m glad I’ve never been there,” Johnny said with a shudder.

“Hey, guys,” Darry said. “Colonel Phillips is walking off with Dr. Erksine. We'd better follow.”

We heard them talking about some secret project and how Colonel Phillips was hesitant about Rogers being the best fit.

“Are you talking about the super-soldier serum?” Pony called out to them.

They quickly turned around to face us and with wide eyes.

“Who’d you keep your voices down?” Dr. Erskine pleaded. “And how do you know about this?”

“Like we said,” I said with a shrug. “Shadow government agency.”

“We have a special skill set,” Soda, but in. “That’s why SHIELD sent us. We might be of help.”

“Skill set of what?” Colonel Phillips asked, clearly not believing us.

“Like this,” Johnny said, starting a fire in his hands.

“I can manipulate emotions and read them,” Pony said. “Like I can read both of your determination, fear, stubbornness, reluctance, and disbelief. Let me help you calm down.”

Pony raised his hands, and you could see Dr. Erskine’s and Colonel Phillips' shoulders relax a little.

“I can lift a truck and am bulletproof,” Darry said.

In a showcase, Darry picked up a gun and shot himself in the shoulder, and pulled his shirt collar down to show no bullet wound. Then he picked up one of the military trucks.

Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips spluttered.

“Not bad, Superman,” Dally said with a smirk. “But watch what I can do.”

Dally used kinetic energy to knock over a military truck.

“Not bad, but I can make the engine explode and then put it back together,” Steve said, bemused.

With that, Steve raised his hands and aimed at one of the trucks and exploding the engine, which startled some of the soldiers.

“Nothing to see here, boys,” Colonel Phillips called, with a fake laugh. “Back to drills.”
The soldiers nodded and continued with the drills.

With that, Steve used his powers to put the truck back together.

I clapped my hands.

“Nice job, Stevie,” I said jokingly. “But I can control things with some jokes and illusions.”

With that, I made multiple versions of myself and walked around in circles to confuse them.

“Now, which one is the real one?” I mocked. “Can you guess? I bet not.

Of course, they picked the wrong one.

“What caused this?” Colonel Phillips asked in disbelief.

“Have you ever heard of the Tesseract?” Dally asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“That’s what the Germans have and are trying to use,” Dr. Erskine said. “How did you come into contact with that?”

Pony paled.

“Well,” Pony said reluctantly. “You wouldn’t really believe us.”

“Well, try us,” Colonel Phillips growled. “You just showed us things that weren’t possible before.”

Pony sighed.

“Go ahead, Pone,” Soda said quietly.

Pony nodded.

“We’re not exactly from this time,” Pony explained. “We’re from 1967 Tulsa. There was a rumor of an abandoned house that had a blue glow and a buzzing sound. We thought it was just a tall tale, so we went to check it out. That’s when we found the Tesserct. It lured us in and gave us these powers. That’s how we got to SHIELD. SHIELD helped us learn how to use these powers. But when we came into contact with the Tesseract again, it transported us here. For what, we don’t know. The one thing we do know is who Steve Rogers becomes, Captain America, and the fact that we don’t age.”

“So it works,” Dr. Erksteine said.

“It does,” Johnny said. “He’s a hero.”

“Let’s test that then,” Colonel Phillips said.

Colonel Phillips tossed a non-active grenade into the drills the soldiers were doing, and Rogers was the only one to sacrifice himself. Proving what we were saying all along.

“Believe us now?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“Do you mind if we fill Mr. Rogers and Captain Carter in on this?” Colonel Phillips asked. “In return, Dr. Ekstein and I will read you all into the mission.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Darry said.

“But if you go back on it,” Dally growled. “There will be hell to pay.”

“It’s a deal we’ll take,” Dr. Erkstein said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

Steve’s POV

“So,” Steve Rogers said. “I wasn’t hallucinating when you guys were helping me back home. You guys really do have powers that a glowing blue cube gave you.”

“You heard us right, squirt,” I said. “And it looks like you are about to have some. Just more man-made and not from a glowing cube.”

“And you're from the future?” Agent Carter asked. “Twenty years in the future?”

“That about sums it up,” Dally said. “Now we’re looking forward to finishing whatever the cube wants us to do, so hopefully it can send us back.”

“And you think it has something to do with what we’re doing?” Dr. Erkstine asked.

“We do,” Darry said firmly. “We just want to help and get back to our lives.”

“Ok then,” Colonel Phillips said. “You ready, Rogers?”

“I was born ready,” Steve Rogers said. “I want to serve my country in the best way possible. This sounds like it is.”

Steve Rogers turned to Agent Carter to talk about something before he stepped into the machine.

Pony started fidgeting with his superhero suit.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Well,” Two-Bit said. “In our future, we know it worked out well.”

“That’s the thing,” Pony said worriedly. “In our future. But us being here messes with that. We don’t know what the Tesseract wants us to do.”

“Well,” Soda said slowly, but quietly. “We know that Howard Stark found it while looking for Rogers at the bottom of the ocean. But maybe the Tesseract wants us to find it earlier than when Howard finds it.”

“See, Soda,” I said, elbowing him. “You are smart.”

Soda chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“Goggles on!” Howard called.

We all put on our goggles and watched nervously as Steve Rogers went through the super-serum process.

All things considered, it went the way it went originally.

“Wowee,” Two-Bit whistled. “He’ll give you some competition, Superman.”

Darry shot Two-Bit a glare.

“Shut your trap, Two,” Darry said. “We can’t be joking around right now.”

“Would you two cut it out?” Dally said. “We need to focus.”

“I thought we would never hear that come out of your mouth,” Pony teased.

Dally swatted him on the back of the head.

“Dally,” Johnny warned. “Not here. Not now.”

Then, before we could say anything else, I noticed something else.

Dr. Erkstine was staring wide-eyed at someone. Like he had seen a ghost or someone from his past.

“Hey, guys,” I said slowly. “Get ready. We have company.”

The guys followed my gaze to Dr. Erkstine and then his gaze to a bespeckled man.

Then, all of a sudden, a massive explosion.

“Johnny!” Soda called.

Johnny raised his hands and redirected the blast towards the man as he was grabbing a file of the super-serum.

Luckily, it was in time to prevent him from shooting Dr. Erkstine.

“Uh oh,” Pony said. “We’ve already changed the timeline.”

“What!” Darry shouted. “What do you mean?!”

Dr. Erkstine died from that gunshot last time.

“Too late now,” Dally growled.

“After him!” Dr. Erkstine shouted.

By that time, the door leading outside the lab was swinging, indicating the man had left.

“It looks like it’s my time to shine,” Soda said with a grin.

“Go get him, Pepsi,” I said with a smirk.

As Soda ran after him, I turned to Pony.

“Hey brat,” I grumbled. “Why don’t you use that power of yours to calm some of these people down and take away their pain?”

“Sure thing,” Pony grumbled. “You could’ve asked nicely, though.”

I smeared at him.

“Cut it out, you two,” Johnny said.

Two-Bit walked over to me with a smirk.

“That was a trip,” Two-Bit said. “I guess we’re now a part of history and some action.”

“Thanks for saving me,” Dr. Erkstine said, coming up to us.

“No sweat,” Dally said. “We might as well do something. I hate being bored and doing nothing.”

Then all of a sudden, Soda was back, but dragging the man’s body with him.

“What the hell happened?” Darry asked.

“Language,” Steve Rogers snapped.

“That’s the least of our problems,” I grumbled.

Steve Rogers shot me a look.

“He took something,” Soda said. “He knew he didn’t stand a chance when he saw me after him. So he took something, said ‘Hail Hydra’, and then died in my arms.”

“What’s Hydra?” Two-Bit asked.

“The evil counterpart of SHIELD,” Pony explained.

“How do you know that?” Dally asked.

“I read,” Pony said bluntly.

Dr. Erkstine reached into the man’s pocket and brought away the broken vial of the serum.

“Well, at least he didn’t get this to them,” Dr. Erkstine said.

“Good work, fellas,” Captain Carter said. “But we now have to go after this Hydra to make sure the Germans don’t get a super soldier.”

“You should know something first,” Dr. Erkstine said nervously. “I didn’t say the full story.”

“This can’t be good,” Darry muttered under his breath.

Dr. Erkstine revealed that he was held against his will to create the super-serum for Hydra, but when he learned their plans, he ran with the serum to the US. The leader of Hydra had taken the inferior version of the serum and had some side effects.

“This isn’t good,” Johnny murmured.

“And you didn’t think to bring this forward earlier?” I growled.

“I didn’t think to,” Dr. Erkstine said.

“Well, too late now,” Pony said with an eyeroll.

“What do we do in the meantime?” Two-Bit asked.

“Well,” Captain Phillips said. “We do need some boost in morale for the troops. We were going to have Captain America here to do some patriotic stuff in the field, live shows, and tapes. We would like to have you guys join in.

“Oh hell no,” Dally grumbled.

“Come on,” Two-Bit teased. “It could be fun.”

Before we could do anything else, we were in front of a live audience as back-ups to Captain America.

Steve Rogers looked uncomfortable in his garb.

I just wanted to throttle Two-Bit.

“Now introducing,” The commentator said. “Captain America and The Strays!”

The crowd cheered.

We marched in behind Rogers and were followed by the girls in their git-ups.

Of course, Two-Bit was ogling the girls.

“Eyes forward,” Darry growled at him.

“I want to hide,” Pony whispered.

“You and me both,” Johnny retorted.

“That’s something I can agree with you, brat,” I growled out of the corner of my mouth.

“Chin up, boys,” Soda said with a smirk.

Soda then winked at one of the girls in the front row.

They giggled.

Dally scowled.
“I can’t believe this will be part of the archives,” I moaned.

“Don’t remind me,” Dally grumbled.

We did the whole PSA thing.

Then there were the comic books, movies, action figures, and the whole thing. It made me sick to my stomach.

“I just want to fast forward and get home already,” I grumbled under my breath.

“Patients, Steve,” Soda whispered in my ear. “Just hold on. Trust the process.”

“Process my ass,” Darry grumbled.

The next thing I knew, we were on the front lines with the troops.

“See Steve,” Soda said cheekily. “We’re with the troops now.”

“But how long are we just for show?” Pony grumbled.

“You don’t want to be thrown into this mess, do you?” Johnny asked nervously.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” I said. “If we want to get back home.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Dally’s POV

I wanted to see some action. Not to be a side piece for morale.

I looked over at Steve Rogers, who was speaking with Agent Carter.

“When do you think we’ll actually be in the field?” I asked Darry.

Darry scuffed.

“I want to keep my kid brothers out of this,” Darry grumbled.

“Too late for that,” Steve said, walking over to us. “We’re all in this. That all went out the window when Two-Bit had the idiotic idea to check out that house.”

“Hey,” Two-Bit snapped. “How was I supposed to know this would happen?”

That’s when I felt a calming presence fall over us.

“What the hell, Pony,” I grumbled as I turned towards him. “What was that for?”

Pony blushed.

“It won’t do us any good if we keep on blaming each other and getting into arguments,” Pony said. “Let’s just finish what we’re here for.”

“See,” Soda said with a grin, and slinging his arm over Pony’s shoulder. “Pony is the smartest out of all of us.”

“If he just uses his head,” Darry grumbled.

We were interrupted by Peggy and Steve Rogers coming over to us.

“You boys ready for your first mission with Rogers?” Peggy asked us, with a straight face.

“Where are we going?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Behind enemy lines,” Steve Rogers said.
“God help us,” I muttered.

“We’ll need it,” I mumbled.

The next thing I knew, we were in a military plane getting ready to parachute down into enemy territory.

“Is it too late now to say that I’m scared of heights?” Pony said meekly.

“Since when?” Soda asked in surprise.

“Since Steve dangled me out of a 2nd story window at school for fun,” Pony said, while glaring at Steve.

“What the hell, Steve?” Darry said. “When was this?”

“The brat deserved it,” Steve spat. “He was being a smart mouth.”

“Would you two cut it out?” Johnny groaned. “We need to focus more on the mission. Especially since we’re about to be shot at.”

“We’re about over the Hydra base,” Peggy called. “Get ready, boys.”

“I hope I don’t regret this,” I grumbled.

The next thing I knew, I was dragging Johnny and Pony kicking out of the plane, and parachuting into the base under the cover of darkness.

“At least these black suits help with camouflage,” Two-Bit said. “But I wish they had more pizazz.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You and your ill-timed jokes,” I grumbled.

“Follow me, guys,” Steve Rogers said as we ducked and covered behind trucks and crates into the compound.

“Since when was he the leader?” Darry grumbled.

“Just go with it, Dar,” Soda said. “You’ll always be our leader once we’re back home.”

“So what’s our plan, Superman?” Steve asked out of the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Darry snapped. “I don’t follow this kind of stuff. Ask Pony?”

Pony looked at us with wide eyes.

“Well,” Pony said. “If I remember correctly, Cap frees the trapped troops and goes off searching for Bucky. Then he runs into the Red Skull. He has the cube. So I say we just follow him.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t change much more,” Johnny said. “We’ve already changed things with Dr. Erkstine. Who knows how much that would change?”

“Where in the world are they being kept?” Steve Rogers muttered.

“Follow me,” Pony murmured.

Steve raised an eyebrow at him and looked like he was going to protest.

“Just listen to the squirt, man,” I grumbled. “It just makes everything easier.

“If you say so,” Steve Rogers said.

We followed Pony to where these large circular prison cells were holding the soldiers.

“Say,” One of the soldiers said when he saw us. “Aren’t you The Strays and Captain America. From those military videos and tours.”

“Yeah,” Soda said with a smirk. “Thanks for watching.”

One of the soldiers rolled his eyes.

“They really sent the talent to rescue us,” the soldier grumbled. “What a scam.”

“Whatch it, buddy,” Steve snapped. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

The soldier paled.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve muttered.
We were able to get the soldiers freed while Steve Rogers was trying to find Bucky.

Steve Rogers ran off towards the edge of the room.

“Shit, guys,” Johnny said. “He’s leaving.”

“This guy sure knows how to lose a tail,” Two-Bit muttered. “He gives you a run for your money, Dal.”

I scowled at him.

We finally caught up to Steve Rogers as he was unstrapping Bucky from a table.

“You’re here too?” Bucky asked us groggily.

“We couldn’t let this idiot be by himself, could we?” Darry teased. “We promised.”

Bucky laughed.

“You sure did,” Bucky said. “Now let’s get out of here.

“We need to get up to that cube before Skull takes it,” Johnny said nervously. “By now, he knows we’re here.”

“Come on, guys,” Soda said, running towards the center of the base. “Let’s go.”

We all followed him, but we were already too late. We encountered Red Skull and his Dr. Zola on one of the high beams.

Steve Rogers and Bucky weren’t far behind us.

Dr. Zola was holding the Tesseract.

“He has it,” Pony said. “We need to get it.”

“Not so fast,” Steve muttered. “He isn’t going to give it up easily.”

“Young Breaker is right, Mindlight,” Red Skull said with a chuckle. “You should listen to him. But it’s so nice to see The Strays and Captain America. I see that Dr. Erksine’s project worked.”

“Well,” I spat. “You didn’t account for one thing. Us being there when you tried to have him killed.”

“A minor setback, Reckless,” Red Skull said. “But you’ll pay for that.”

Without notice, Red Skull threw a punch at me, but Darry stepped in front of me and threw Red Skull back.

But before we could do anything else, Dr. Zola pulled a lever that pulled the two sides of the bridge apart from each other.

“That little bugger,” Two-Bit seethed. “He sure does know how to play a game.”

“I see you have another one of your super-soldiers,” Red Skull chuckled.

“I’m actually not,” Darry growled. “This is from that cube of yours.”

Dr. Zola looked intrigued. Red Skull was taken aback.

“How interesting,” Red Skull said. “But you see, Captain America. You weren’t Dr. Erskine’s first subject. I was.”

With a flourish, he pulled off his human skin mask and revealed a red face and skull.

“Ugh,” Two-Bit said. “Remind me not to eat red hots again.”

“How did his head make you think of that?” Johnny asked in confusion.

“Just focus,” Soda grumbled.

“How are we supposed to get to the cube now?” Pony asked frantically as Dr. Zola and Red Skull got onto an elevator.

Before we could say anything, there was a large explosion.

“I’ve got it,” Johnny called.

He lifted his hands and directed the blast away from us.

“Whoa,” Bucky said. “So you really did get powers from the cube. I thought you were just kidding.”

“Truth be told,” I said. “We’re not much jokesters, unless you count Jokester here. He’s the only one, though.”

“Guilty as charged,” Two-Bit said cheekily.

“Come on, guys,” Steve Rogers called. “I found our way out. There is a beam up above us that we can use.”

We all looked up, and sure enough, there it was.

“I hope it holds,” Darry muttered.

We followed Steve Rogers and Bucky up to that level.

“Buck you first,” Steve Rogers said.

Bucky nodded nervously and crawled over the railing and slowly started his way across.

While Bucky started going across, the beam started to give a bit.

“I’ve got this,” I muttered.

I used the kinetic energy I stored up to boost the beam and keep it steady while Bucky finished across.

“Come on, gang,” Soda said with a grin. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

We all slowly started across. I was the last one to go, and my energy was draining, and I started to falter.

Right when it was about to collapse, Johnny grabbed my arm and got me across.

“Thanks, Johnnycakes,” I said.

“No sweat,” Johnny said with a shrug. “You would do the same for me.”

Johnny gave me a small smile.

I chuckled under my breath.

“Don’t make me go soft, squirt,” I muttered.

We ran up to the launch pad, but we were too late.

“God damn it,” Steve shouted.

“Language,” Rogers said.

“No one cares, right now,” Darry snapped. “We’ve lost our shot of going home.”

“Not quite sure that’s true,” Pony said.

“What do you mean?” Two-Bit asked. “Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“There is a chance we get onto the ship before it crashes with Cap in it and the cube,” Pony whispered.

“But won’t that mean we’ll crash?” Soda asked nervously. “That doesn’t sound safe.”

“But there is a chance that the cube can transport us back to our time,” Johnny finished, Pony’s thought. “That’s probably what it wants us to do. Make sure it isn’t on the sea floor.”

I always thought it was weird that they could read each other’s minds.

“I guess if that’s our best option,” I muttered. “Then it’s what we’ve got.”

“We need to get going, guys,” Bucky called. “The rest of the troops are leaving to head back to camp.”

We followed reluctantly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Johnny’s POV

When we got back to camp, we were greeted by the rest of the troops. They were looking at us in awe and newfound respect.

Colonel Phillips’ jaw was on the ground.

Peggy greeted Steve Rogers.

Two-Bit elbowed Soda.

“It looks like Carter has the hots for Rogers,” Two-Bit teased.

“Lucky man,” Soda responded with a smirk.

Darry cleared his throat, disrupting Pegg and Steve Roger’s reunion.

“So what’s the plan?” Darry asked. “Because we’ve got a cube to find to protect the world, and so we can get back home.”

“Howard might have something in his workshop that can help us,” Peggy said. “It’s secure, and we can make sure that everything that is needed for the mission is provided.”

“Like some cool toys?” Two-Bit asked eagerly.

“Yes,” Peggy said with a chuckle. “Cool toys if that’s what you call them.”

“Sweet,” Dally said. “Actually, government permission to cause trouble and rumble.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned. “We actually need to get home and not get locked up in a 1940s prison.”

Dally rolled his eyes.

“I’m actually with Johnnycakes on this one,” Soda said.

“At least you all are using your heads,” Darry grumbled.

“I’m just shocked that Two-Bit didn’t make that kind of joke,” Steve grumbled.

Two-Bit whacked him on the head.

Pony snickered.

“At least the circumstances didn’t change the dynamic,” Pony murmured.

I nodded in agreement.

We followed Colonel Phillips, Peggy Carter, Bucky Barnes, and Steve Rogers into Howard’s workshop.

Dr. Erksine was working with Howard on some of his inventions.

“I think with Dr. Erksine alive,” Pony murmured to me. “Maybe he can make some steps forward with Stark Industries.”

“But at what cost?” Dally grumbled as he passed us.

“So,” Colonel Phillips said. “Before we do anything, can you show us where some of the bases are and what’s inside?”

“Sure thing,” Steve Rogers said. “Darry, do you care to join?”

“Sure,” Darry said with a small smile.

While Darry was helping Steve Rogers, the rest of us wandered around the lab.

Two-Bit reached out to touch something.

I swatted his hand away.

“Don’t touch,” I grumbled. “The last time you talked us into something, we woke up with superpowers and got transported back in time to here.”

“I didn’t ask for this either,” Two-Bit said scowling. “But I see your point.”

“Just don’t touch anything, doofus,” Steve grumbled.

While Darry and Steve Rogers were walking Colonel Phillips through everything, we got some weapons of choice.

Two-Bit got ninja stars that were shaped like Joker Playing cards.

“These are sweet and on point,” Two-Bit groaned.

Steve got a taser that could pass as a wrench. He also had a gun thatuised as a hammer that could be hung from his belt.

“Sweet,” Steve said with a grin. “Double use.”

Dally got a device that provides endless kinetic energy, so he never runs out and can just pull from it for his use.

“Thanks,” Dally grumbled. “So I guess I need an endless battery. How quaint.”

I got some fire reinforcements for my powers. They helped with aim, and I could funnel the fire that I created through them. I also got a never-ending lighter in case I depleted my energy source to create fire, and there wasn’t a fire source.

“See Dal,” I said with a small smile. “I need a battery too.”

Dally ruffled my hair.

Soda got some other pairs of shoes that could be used for traction in case something happened when we weren’t in uniform. He also got enhancements for his charm abilities.

“Sweet,” Soda said. “I can run in style whenever I want.”

Darry had gotten some protective gloves for his hands when doing heavy lifting.

Steve Rogers got his famous shield that everyone loves. It was cool to see it demonstrated in person.

Pony got emotion stun bombs to help him as weapons.

“Who's ready to go to war?” Steve Rogers said in encouragement.

“You mean who’s ready for us?” Dally corrected.

“Hell yeah,” Bucky said. “I like this dude already.”

Dally smirked.

From there, we did multiple different fights. A lot of them were in snow-covered woods. It was something, though, to help us get more used to our powers and the new weapons before we had to confront Zola and Red Skull.

The final target, though, was the train.

Yeah, that fateful train, where Bucky Barnes falls off and dies.

“We don’t want to tell him right,” I said nervously.

“If we do,” Pony said grimly. “We alter the timeline more. We already changed that with Dr. Erskine. We can’t afford more.”

“Oh man,” Two-Bit said. “I was just getting used to having a sarcastic buddy that could rival Steve.”

Steve scowled at him.

“Watch it,” Steve grumbled. “There’s only one me.”

“Don’t sweat it, Steve,” Soda said, draping his arm over Steve’s shoulders. “No one can replace you in my heart.”

“Gross,” Dally grumbled.

“I’m with Pony on this one,” Darry said, moving our conversation along. “We need to focus on our task. Getting home. That’s it.”

“Let’s hope no one else falls off the train with Bucky,” I muttered.

“We’re in this together,” Pony murmured into my ear. “Dally and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I gave him a weary smile and nodded reluctantly.

We followed Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes onto the top of the moving train.

“Don’t look down, don’t look down,” I heard Pony murmur to himself.

I was getting motion sickness.

Finally, we dropped down into the train.

“Thank god,” Dally grumbled. “I didn’t like being up there.”

“I thought nothing fazed you, Mr. Tough Guy,” Two-Bit teased.

“Don’t test me,” Dally growled.

“Knock it off, dinguses,” Steve grumbled.

“Trust me,” Soda said quietly. “You don’t want to anger a stressed-out Steve.”

Pony reached out a hand and used his powers to calm down Steve.

“Thanks, brat,” Steve grumbled. “But next time, ask for permission unless they’re shooting at us.”

Pony blushed.

“Sorry,” Pony mumbled.

We started following Cap and Bucky through the train cars until we were met with open fire.

“Shit,” Darry grumbled, pulling us behind boxes. “Here goes nothing!”

We started using our powers.

Two-Bit used distraction trickery. Soda helped with running around. Pony used the emotion of fear and planted false emotions in the shooters.

Then all of a sudden, Bucky was blasted out of a hole in the side of the train while trying to block a shot.

Steve Rogers tried to go after him.

“Rogers!” Darry boomed. “Stay down. It’s too dangerous!”

“No,” Steve Rogers yelled back. “He’s my friend!”

But it was too late. Bucky fell with a scream into the white, snowy mountains.

“Damn,” Steve said. “Don’t you do that.” Steve looked at Soda.

“I don’t plan on it,” Soda murmured sadly.

Then a fellow soldier’s voice chirped through our walkie-talkies.

“We’ve got Zola,” The voice said.

“At least something good came out of this,” Two-Bit said.

We went back to base, where Steve Rogers slipped away, and we started to watch Colonel Phillips interrogate Zola.

“This guy gives me the creeps,” Dally said. “And that’s saying something.”

I leaned over to Pony.

“We should go check on Rogers,” I murmured. “He needs support.”

Pony nodded.

“Good idea,” Pony said. “Especially since we’ve been there. When we were trying to save each other in Windrixville. At least we had a better outcome.”

We followed Steve Roger’s footprints in the snow to a rundown warehouse. Peggy Carter was walking out after talking with him.

She gave us a weary smile as we passed.

“Steve?” Pony called wearily.

Seve Rogers startled and looked up at us.

“Oh,” Steve Rogers said. “Hey, guys.”

“We came to check in,” I said. “We know somewhat how hard this can be. We were in a situation where we were afraid the other would die. One almost did. Heck, Pony lost his parents in a car wreck. So we’re here if you need anything.

Steve Rogers gave us a sad smile.

“I appreciate it, guys,” Steve Rogers said. “I really appreciate it. I could use all the friends I could get right now.”

We nodded and just sat there with him before we headed back.

“We have a mission to do,” Steve Rogers said darkly. “For Bucky.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

Pony’s POV

I didn’t like the plan. Not one bit. I could tell Darry didn’t either.

“You really think it’s smart to allow ourselves and Cap to get kidnapped by Nazis?” Darry growled. “You're delusional.”

“Drastic times come with drastic measures,” Colonel Phillips said. “We don’t have a choice.”

“Dar,” Soda said slowly. “It will give us a chance to get closer to the Tesseract and grab it.”

Darry let out a low sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine,” Darry said. “We’ll do it. But cautiously. I don’t have to like it one bit, though.”

“You’re such a mother hen,” Dally grumbled.

“See,” I murmured to Dally. “This is what I have to deal with day in and day out.”

Dally huffed.

Before I knew it, we were flying through the forest on motorcycles.

“This is sweet,” Two-Bit said with glee. “I feel like I’m flying!”

Steve was grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m with you on that one,” Steve said with a smirk.

“I just don’t want to die on this thing,” Johnny said nervously.

“I’m with you on that one,” I muttered.

I had just gotten my driver's license after all.

Before I knew it, like we had planned, Cap and the rest of the gang were surrounded by Nazi Hydra soldiers.

We were led into a Hydra compound.

I looked around nervously.

“Stay close,” Darry warned.

“It’s not like we have a choice,” Dally snapped.

I just rolled my eyes while Johnny shot Dally a look.

We were escorted to a room by soldiers, where we were greeted by the Red Skull.

“Well, isn’t it Captain America and his lackeys, The Strays?” Red Skull sneered.

Red Skull clucked his tongue.

“You really think you’re special, don’t you?” Red Skull continued. “Superpowers and super serums.”

Steve let out a snort.

“I’m not really that special,” Cap said. “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

That caused Red Skull to punch Cap in the stomach.

I winced.

Red Skull looked at us.

“Is it so funny now?” Red Skull said.

“It kind of is,” Two-Bit said. “A cube thought we were special enough.”

“Even though we’re just delinquents from the East side of Tulsa,” Steve said.

Red Skull stepped forward, looking to do to Steve what he did to Cap, but I used my emotion control to create fear in Red Skull’s mind.

It caused him to falter, and he shook his head.

“You have to do better than that,” Red Skunll sneered.

Soda flashed his charming smile and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Come on, Princess Red,” Soda said teasingly, but with his charm power. “We will do better.”

This caused Red Skull’s eyes to glaze over, and a deeper red to creep into his face.

Then Red Skull snapped out of it and snorted.

“I’m not going to waste my breath on the likes of you,” Red Skull said. “You’re just greasy skum.”

Anger flared in Dally’s face.

“I would watch your mouth if I were you,” I warned.

Red Skull laughed.

“Tough words coming from a kid,” Red Skull said.

“Don’t you dare call him that,” Johnny said. “He’s done more in his life than you’ll do in yours.”

“Johnny,” Darry warned. “Don’t.”

“I would listen to him if I were you, boy,” Red Skull chided. “Especially since we’re on a tight schedule.”

Then we heard a wheezing coming from outside as the other soldiers came through the windows on ziplines.

“So are we,” Cap said.

“Let the games begin,” Two-Bit crowed.

There was a barrage of gunfire as we dodged and weaved as we followed Cap to where the blue cube would be.

“I hate running from a fight,” Steve sneered.

“It’s not like we have a choice if we want to get home,” Soda said, determined.

We careened into an airplane hangar.

“Uh, guys,” Johnny said nervously. “He’s getting away.”

Johnny pointed to an airplane that was starting to roar to life.

Soda pulled out a harness wire and wove it around us.

“Hold on tight,” Soda said with a grin.

“Soda,” Dally warned. “I swear to god…”

But before Dally could finish, Soda took off and was dragging us at the speed of light.

I felt like I was going to puke.

We were able to get into the airplane before it took off.

Cap was green in the face. Dally cursed.

“You ok, Cap?” Darry asked, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Remind me to never do that again,” Cap groaned.

“How about we do this?” Two-Bit said. “Cap, you go for the Red Skull, while we go for the cube.”

I cocked an eyebrow.

“Two-Bit making an actual good plan?” I teased.

“Hardy har,” Two-Bit said.

“I think it could work,” Cap said. “Let’s get going.”

We slowly and quietly started to work our way towards the cockpit when we were greeted by Hydra soldiers.
“Oh hell no,” Steve muttered.

“Not again,” Johnny said. “I thought we would shake these guys.”

“That’s wishful thinking,” Dally snapped. “But let’s focus.”

We were all distracted with our one-on-one combat to worry about what the others were doing.

That’s when I noticed that Cap was missing.

“Uh, guys,” I said. “Where’ cap?”

We all looked around.

“I think he fell into one of those small planes,” Darry said.

We all looked outside, and sure enough, he was.

“I’ll be damned,” Dally said. “I’m kind of jealous.”

We watched as he battled the other soldiers before kind of crashing a bit into the hull of the ship.

“You good?” Two-Bit asked. “Because that was so cool.”

Cap gave us a small smile.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, though,” Cap said. “Let’s get going, so we can get you guys back home and the cube safe. Also, to destroy this guy for good.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Steve teased dryly.

We slowly made our way to the cockpit, where it was eerily quiet.

“It seems too quiet in here,” Soda said.

“Too quiet,” Johnny agreed. “Where do you think…”

Before Johnny could finish, a blue orb flew past our heads.

“There you are,” The Red Skull yelled.

We all turned on our heels and came face to face with the Red Skull with his blue orb gun.

That’s when things started to get messy.

As Cap started to tussle with the Red Skull, we moved over to where the Tesseract was.

“How the hell do we get this thing out of here?” Dally yelled.

We tried everything when the Red Skull somehow made it back.

“I would get away from that if I were you,” the Red Skull said.

But before we could respond, Cap’s shield came careening through the air and hit the container for the Tesseract, opening it up.

“Now you’ve done it,” The Red Skull yelled in anger.

“That’s one way to do it,” Darry said.

We all dove for the Tesseract, but the Red Skull ended up with it.

“Hand it over,” I yelled. “You don’t know what that can do.”

“Yes, I do,” the Red Skull said.

Then all of a sudden, the Tesseract started to react.

“Well, this isn’t good,” Johnny murmured.

We all slowly backed up until we were standing with Cap.

“You good?” I asked nervously.

“Never better,” Cap said. “This can’t be good. Do you know what it’s doing?”

“No clue,” Dally said. “Nothing good though.”

Then all of a sudden, the light got more intense, and so did the energy coming off of it.

Then a beam of light blasted into the air through the ship as the ship continued to careen towards the ocean.

Then, the Red Skull was gone, and the Tesseract bounced to the ground.

“Well, at least the cube took care of him for us,” Two-Bit said. “We should’ve let him do that sooner.”

“I’ll try to get the airplane back on track while you guys get that,” Cap said as he ran towards the cockpit.

“Sounds like a plan,” Steve shouted.

We ran towards the cube and we picked it up.

But then we got that weird trance-like feeling again.

“Not this again,” Soda groaned.

“Everything good back there?” Cap called.

But before we could answer, we were transported through a black hole, and we landed on concrete ground.

We still had the Tesseract.

“Thank god,” Johnny groaned.

We slowly sat up, and we saw a wide-eyed Agent Dugan.

“Dugan,” Darry said slowly. “Please tell me this is 1967.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

Soda’s POV

Agent Dugan blinked at us a few times. His jaw hung, almost to the ground.

“The Strays,” Agent Dugan stuttered. “How did you? Uh…yes. It’s 1967.”

I let out a sigh.

“Thank god,” I said gratefully. “How long have we been gone?”

You could see the thoughts running through Agent Dugan’s head, and they started to overwhelm him.

“Time travel shouldn’t be possible,” Agent Dugan muttered. “But they did it. My memories seemed to rewrite themselves. But I don’t know any different.”

Agent Dugan shook his head in disbelief before he looked back at us.

“You’ve only been gone for at least 15 minutes,” Agent Dugan said. “But you guys are now legends in the SHIELD History books. Agent Carter set up bank accounts after Captain America said you disappeared on the airplane. Just in case. They filled it with your paychecks as SHIELD agents just in case you guys didn’t die at the bottom of the ocean.”

I paled.

“Is Cap still down there?” Pony asked quietly.

Agent Dugan nodded.

“He is,” Agent Dugan said grimly. “We haven’t been able to find the ship. Everyone has been searching. They’ve been searching for the Tesseract, too. But you guys holding that explains everything.”

“You said money,” Darry said slowly. “How much are you talking about? Especially after all of these years.”

Agent Dugan gave a wry laugh.

“A lot,” Agent Dugan said. “Enough that you all of you guys could go to college 5 times over each, get a nicer house in a better area, so and so forth.”

Darry paled.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Dally said. “There’s no fucking way.”

“I’m not joking,” Agent Dugan said. “Like it or not, you guys are part of SHIELD now and will continue to be.”

Agent Dugan passed us pagers.

“These are for each of you,” Agent Dugan said. “In case something happens and we need your help.”

Steve’s lip twitched.

“You're acting like we want to keep saving things,” Steve grumbled.

“You don’t have a choice,” Agent Dugan said. “You sealed your fate when you stepped in to help start SHIELD. Just like Cap, you're a symbol now. People love you guys. You have a lore now. Cartoons, movies, comic books, and action figures. The whole thing.”

Johnny looked like he wanted to keel over.

“They don’t know our real names, right?” Johnny asked nervously.

Agent Dugan shook his head.

“They don’t,” Agent Dugan said. “They just know your group name and the individual superhero names. The masks help with that and the uniforms. So you can go back to your day-to-day lives. Also, I had already called you all out of school and work today, saying you were sick. So you’re good to acclimate to life here at this time. Just stay by your pagers and try to blend in.”

We all nodded.

“Thank you, sir,” Pony said. “Let us know if we can help.”

“You’ll keep this cube safe, right?” I asked, handing over the Tesseract to Dugan.
Dugan nodded.

“Sure will,” Agent Dugan said. “You guys didn’t go to all of that trouble for us not to keep it safe.”

“We’ll hold you to that,” Darry warned.

With that, we were shown out of the compound and driven back to the house, where all of our cars were waiting for us.

“Should we go make sure that all the cash is true?” Two-Bit asked. “Just to make sure this isn’t some elaborate prank.”

“We probably should,” Steve muttered. “I don’t buy it either. Plus, we have the day to ourselves.”

We all drove to the bank, and sure enough, it was all true.

“Damn,” Dally said. “Dugan wasn’t lying. We’re pretty much Soc rich now. What do you guys want to do?”

“I don’t know about you,” I said. “But I’m thinking about getting my GED and going to tech school to be a mechanic. You with me, Steve?”

“Hell yeah, buddy,” Steve said. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Is that ok, Dar?” I asked Darry nervously.

Darry gave me a warm smile and nodded.

“That sounds good with me,” Darry said. “I was thinking about finishing up my business degree with night classes. If that’s good with you and Pone.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Pony said in confusion. “You deserve it.”

“I could go to welding school,” Dally said thoughtfully. “And Johnnycakes won’t have to worry about student loans for nursing school anymore.”

“Pony wouldn’t have to worry about tuition anymore,” Johnny said quietly. “Or you guys wouldn’t have to worry about the bills.”
“We could also finish all the projects we wanted to finish,” Two-Bit said. “Especially at your house, Dar.”

“That sounds nice,” Darry said. Darry was about to say something else, but our thoughts were cut off by everyone’s stomachs grumbling.

“I think that’s our cue to get a celebratory lunch at the DQ,” I said with a smirk.

We all drove towards the DQ, and sure enough, in the windows we saw posters showing us and Captain America in bookstores and action figures.

“I just hope nobody recognizes us,” Dally grumbled as we walked into the DQ.

Luckily, no one looked in our direction while we grabbed dinner.

Everything seemed to be getting back to normal the whole week. We went generally unnoticed.

Pony, Darry, and I were working on our college applications. So were Steve, Dally, and Two-Bit.

It was the first weekend back when our pagers started going off.

“What now?” Steve groaned. “I swear if this is something major, someone is going down.”

We all raced to our cars and drove to the SHIELD compound to change into our uniforms.

Afterwards, we were greeted by an older Agent Peggy Carter.

“Nice to see you boys again,” Agent Carter said with a sad, small smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, ma’am,” Johnny said.

“What’s the urgent call for?” Darry asked tensely.

Agent Dugan cleared his throat.

“Let me show you to the conference room,” Agent Dugan said. “We have a lot of agents waiting to fill you guys in.”

We followed Agent Dugan and Agent Carter to a large conference room, where a bunch of men and women in suits greeted us.

“Welcome, Strays,” one agent said. “It’s nice to meet you all. Agent Carter will be filling you in.”

Agent Carter walked up to a screen and projected a profile of a man on it. He was a stern-looking man, with glasses, a scowl, and a lab coat.

“His name is Dr. Lucien Vex,” Agent Carter explained. “He was a former SHIELD black-ops scientist. He defected during the HYDRA uprising. Brilliant but unstable, Vex specialized in experimental neural-link weapons and psionic warfare. After a failed experiment to fuse human cognition with alien tech recovered from an Inhuman site, Vex gained parasitic telepathy and reality-warping hallucination powers, but at the cost of his sanity. He goes by Mindspike now.”

“So it sounds like you’ll be our biggest asset, Mindlight,” Johnny said carefully.

We had to be careful not to use our real names around others, especially agents, to keep our identities secret.

“So,” Two-Bit said. “What does he want? Why emerge now?”

“Let’s just say there is a leak here at SHIELD,” Agent Dugan said. “He has heard that you all are back, and so is the Tesseract. He wants to try and reverse the effects of his failed experiment as well as to make sure his experiment succeeds this time.”

“We need you to stop him,” Agent Carter said. “Can you do that?”

“We can try,” Steve said. “But there are no guarantees.”

“We didn’t protect this cube just for a raging lunatic to use it for something stupid, like the Red Skull,” Dally said. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Darry’s POV

The walls of the S.H.I.E.L.D. base in 1967 didn’t feel all that different from the camps and bunkers we’d walked through back in the ‘40s: same humming lights, same smell of metal and gun oil, but everything else had changed. It was the world that we had left and come back to. It was interesting to see the differences and the similarities.

It was the same fight. Hydra hadn’t died with the war. They’d just gone underground, sprouted new heads. And now this Dr. Vex was their latest nightmare.

I stood with my arms crossed as the briefing wrapped up. Agent Timothy Dugan - older now, with more lines around his eyes but still carrying himself like a man who’d seen one too many wars- finished laying out what intel they had.

The gang shifted uneasily after we agreed to do everything. Pony leaned forward in his chair, eyes glowing faintly in the dim, like the cube was humming inside him again.

Before I could say anything, the door creaked open, and Peggy Carter stepped in. Not the sharp-dressed soldier we’d met in the 40s, time had touched her, silver threading her dark hair, lines carved deep around her eyes. But she still carried that same steel in her spine.

“Gentlemen,” she said, her British accent cutting clean through the air. “It’s been a long time. You really up to this?”

Two-Bit muttered, “No kidding, but yes,” earning a sharp elbow from Steve Randall.

Peggy’s eyes lingered on me, Soda, and Pony.

“Like I said earlier, I thought I’d seen the last of you the day Rogers went down with that ship.” Her voice softened, just a fraction. “It’s strange, seeing you exactly as you were. Not a day older.”
I shifted, uncomfortable under her gaze. She was right, we hadn’t aged a bit. Everyone else around us had.

“We didn’t ask for this,” I said flatly. “But we’re here, and if Vex is gunning for the cube, we can’t sit this out.”

Peggy nodded once, as if she’d expected no less.

“Then you understand what’s at stake,” Peggy said. “Hydra is patient. They never stop. Vex has no loyalty, not even to them. He’ll burn the world down if it suits him.”

Pony’s voice was quiet, but steady.

“I can feel him,” Pony said. “Even just hearing his name, it’s like the cube inside me reacts.”

That turned heads. Dugan raised a bushy eyebrow, and Peggy stepped closer, studying Pony with the same sharp intensity she’d once given Rogers.

“You’ve been changed, more resigned, ” Peggy murmured. “The Tesseract left its mark.”

Pony shifted under her stare, and I put a hand on his shoulder before she could press harder.

“We’re still the same,” I said. “Whatever that cube did, it doesn’t change that. It didn’t change any of us. No matter how many times we interact with it, it has already left its mark after the first time, but it doesn’t change who we really are.”
“On the contrary,” Peggy said softly. “It may make you all more important than any of you realize.”

That didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t like the idea of anyone, Hydra, S.H.I.E.L.D., or Peggy Carter herself, seeing Pony as anything but the young adults we all were. I’d fought too hard to keep all of us from getting swallowed up by the world.

Dugan broke the silence, clearing his throat.

“Point is, we’ve got a lead,” Dugan said. “Vex has a lab on the outskirts of Berlin. You boys still know how to handle yourselves in the field?”

Soda smirked, leaning back in his chair.

“We’ve gotten into a fight or two since you saw us last, Agent,” Soda said.

Peggy allowed herself the smallest smile.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Peggy said.

I looked around the table, at Soda’s easy grin, Pony’s too-bright eyes, Johnny’s nervous fidgeting, Two-Bit’s smirk that didn’t hide his fear, Dally’s clenched jaw, Steve’s restless hands. My gang. My family.

“Then we gear up,” I said. “We finish this before Vex gets any closer to that cube. No screw-ups, no shortcuts. We stick together, or we don’t make it at all.”

Peggy Carter studied me for a long moment, then gave a single approving nod.

“Very well, Atlas,” Peggy said. “Let’s see if The Strays can do what S.H.I.E.L.D. alone cannot. And without Captain America.”

And for the first time since we’d landed back in this decade, I felt the weight settle on me again. Not just as their brother, or their guardian. But as their leader.

The meeting room turned into a flurry of movement once Peggy and Dugan laid the Berlin assignment on the table. Maps rolled out, folders opened, photographs slid across the steel surface under the stark overhead lights.

Dugan jabbed a thick finger at the grainy picture of a concrete complex.

“That’s Vex’s playground,” Dugan said. “We’ve been monitoring power spikes coming from here for the last six months. If he’s stabilizing cube energy, this is where it’s happening.”

Johnny frowned at the photo.

“Looks like a factory,” Johnny said.
“That’s the idea,” Peggy answered. “Hydra’s gotten clever about hiding. It looks ordinary from the outside, but every source we have says he’s buried labs underneath.”

I leaned over the table, scanning the schematics.

“Entry points?” I asked.

“Main gates here,” Dugan pointed, “but that’s suicide. We’ll get you inside through the old sewer line. Narrow, but it leads right to the sub-levels.”

Dally scoffed.

“Figures,” Dally grumbled. “Always sewers.”

“Don’t like it?” Dugan shot back, arching a brow. “Feel free to knock on the front door and ask Dr. Vex politely to hand over his toys.”

Dally shut up at that.

Peggy’s gaze shifted across us, measuring, weighing.

“You’ll need more than luck,” Peggy said. “Hydra’s soldiers are better trained than most, and Vex isn’t predictable. Which means we’ll put you through drills.”

Two-Bit groaned.

“Boot camp again?” Two-Bit said. “What is this, round two?”

“Think of it as practice for staying alive,” Peggy said crisply.

The training yard felt like déjà vu from twenty years earlier. Rows of sandbags, obstacle courses, a shooting range buzzing with recruits. Except this time it wasn’t strangers being tested, it was us.
“Form up!” Dugan barked, louder than a drill sergeant. “Let’s see what the Strays are made of.”

We ran the course, Soda blazing through with his speed, Steve tearing apart and reassembling the mock vehicles as if it were second nature, Johnny igniting targets in controlled bursts. Pony’s powers shimmered brighter than before, his light shields flaring under simulated gunfire. Two-Bit summoned three copies of himself mid-climb, confusing the recruits watching. Even Dally, scowling the whole time, absorbed enough kinetic force to flip one of the weighted dummies clear off the course.

When my turn came, I hauled a truck across the gravel lot, the recruits staring like they’d never seen a man bend steel. I caught Peggy’s expression, impressed, but cautious. She wasn’t dazzled like the others. She was calculating.

“Not bad,” Dugan muttered, chewing his cigar. “Still rough around the edges. But not bad.”

Peggy stepped forward, her tone softer.

“Strength and powers will only get you so far,” Peggy said. “What matters is discipline. You stay together, you move as one, you trust each other. That’s the only way you’ll survive Berlin.”

I nodded, meeting her gaze.

“That’s how we’ve always done it,” I said.

Her expression warmed, just slightly.

“Then you might just have a chance,” Peggy said.

After drills, they handed us fresh uniforms. Same symbols, same tailored edges for our abilities, but updated, sleeker, threaded with stronger Kevlar. I slid mine on, flexing my hands in the reinforced gloves. It felt heavier than before, but solid. Dependable.

Two-Bit twirled in his patchwork suit.

“See?” Two-Bit said. “Now this has pizazz.”

“Looks the same as before,” Steve muttered.

“Exactly,” Two-Bit grinned. “That’s the pizazz.”

I rolled my eyes, but it loosened something in my chest hearing them joke again.

When we returned to the briefing room, Peggy was waiting with a neat stack of folders.

“One more thing before Berlin,” she said. “Your lives in Tulsa.”

We froze.

“What about ‘em?” I asked carefully.

“You’re still minors,” she said, her eyes flicking to Pony. “And the rest of you, well, your names are attached to jobs, schools, records. You can’t simply vanish for months without questions being asked. That’s where S.H.I.E.L.D. comes in.”

Dugan slid the folders across the table. Inside were forged doctor’s notes, school excusals, and work leave slips, every detail signed, stamped, official.
Soda whistled low.

“Guess we don’t have to worry about getting fired,” Soda said.

Peggy smirked.

“As far as Tulsa knows, you’ve been placed in a government training program,” Peggy said. “Academic credits and wages will continue as usual. Consider it covered.”

Relief washed over me, though I didn’t show it. I’d been chewing on how we’d explain weeks or months away from our lives. For once, somebody had the answers.

I looked at my brothers, then at the rest of the gang.

“No excuses now,” I said. “We focus. We train. And we shut Vex down before he gets anywhere near that cube.”

They all nodded. Even Dally.

Peggy stepped closer, her voice carrying the weight of every year she’d fought this war.

“Berlin won’t be easy,” Peggy said. “But if you succeed… you won’t just be protecting your own time. You’ll be protecting everyone’s future.”

I squared my shoulders, feeling the weight settle in. Atlas, holding the sky.

“We won’t let it fall,” I said.

And I meant it.

The sun was going down by the time Peggy finally dismissed us from the yard. Sweat stung my eyes, and my arms ached from hauling weight after weight, but the gang didn’t look much better. Soda flopped down on the grass, chest heaving, and Two-Bit leaned against Johnny like his knees couldn’t quite remember how to hold him.

Peggy stood at the edge of the training field with her arms crossed, not a hair out of place. She might’ve been older, but her eyes were as sharp as the first time I saw her back in the ’40s.
“You’ll do,” she said simply, then turned on her heel and strode back toward the base.

“High praise,” Dally muttered, wiping sweat off his brow.

“Better than ‘you’ll die,’” Steve Randall shot back, though his grin faltered when he said it.

I let them breathe a minute before I called everyone in. They circled me like they always had, even when I wasn’t sure I deserved to lead.

“Listen,” I said, low so only they could hear, “this mission ain’t about showing off. We get in, we stick to the plan, and we watch each other. Nobody wanders. Nobody pulls a stunt without warning the rest. You hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” Soda said, though his smile was thinner than usual. Pony echoed him with a nod, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.

Johnny fiddled with his gloves, the faint scent of smoke rising from them.

“What if something goes wrong?” Johnny asked.

“Then we get each other out,” I answered without hesitation. “We’ve survived worse.”

I didn’t add what I was thinking: barely.

Back inside, Peggy and Dugan had turned one of the conference rooms into a staging area. Maps of Berlin covered the walls, and a scale model of Vex’s compound sat on the table like some twisted science fair project.

Peggy pointed to the model with a pencil.

“Your entry is here, northeast quadrant, disguised maintenance tunnel,” Peggy said. “Once inside, you’ll split: two groups. One draws the guards, the other presses for the lab. The cube energy signatures are coming from sub-level two. That’s where you’ll find Vex.”

“Split up?” I said flatly. “Not a fan.”

“I don’t like it either,” Peggy admitted, “but it’s the most efficient way to cover ground. If you stay together, you risk being boxed in. This way, you force Hydra to divide its attention.”
Dugan set a box on the table with a heavy thump.

“Equipment upgrades,” Dugan said. “Field comms. Stronger than the walkie-talkies we scrounged up last time.” He grinned through his mustache. “Should keep you in each other’s ears even underground.”

Two-Bit immediately grabbed one, turning it over in his hands.

“Do they come in purple?” Two-Bit asked cheekily. “Feels like my color.”

“Shut up and take it,” Dugan said.

I passed the rest out, making sure Pony clipped his securely to his belt.

Peggy’s gaze softened when it landed on him.

“If you feel the cube resonate again, we need to know immediately,” Peggy said. “You may sense it before our instruments do.”

Pony ducked his head, uncomfortable with the attention, but murmured, “I’ll try.”

I put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll do more than try,” I said. “You’ll listen to me, and you won’t overextend yourself. Clear?”

“Clear,” he whispered.

Soda gave me a look, half warning, half agreement. He knew as well as I did that Pony had been pushing himself too hard, trying to prove he wasn’t just the kid tagging along.

Peggy closed the folder in front of her.

“You deploy in forty-eight hours,” Peggy said. “Get rest. Get focused.”

“Don’t forget that S.H.I.E.L.D. already patched things over with your schools and jobs,” Dugan added with a grunt. “As far as Tulsa knows, you’re in a federal training program for the next month. You won’t fall behind.”

I felt the tension in my shoulders ease, just a bit. One less thing for me to worry about. At least when we went home, we’d still have lives to return to.

“Alright,” I said, pushing back from the table. “You heard the lady. Rest up. We hit this running.”

The gang started filing out, chattering low, exhausted but buzzing from the weight of it all. Soda clapped Pony on the back, Johnny leaned into Dally for support, and Two-Bit made some joke about Berlin sausages that I didn’t quite catch.

I stayed behind a second longer, staring down at the model of Vex’s compound. It was just plastic and paint, but in my head, I could already see the fire, hear the gunfire, feel the ground shake.

Peggy lingered by the doorway.

“They trust you,” Peggy said quietly.

“They’re my brothers,” I answered. “And my responsibility.”

She gave me a long, knowing look, the kind only someone who’d carried the same kind of weight could give. Then she nodded once and left me alone with the model.

I pressed both hands flat against the table, willing myself steady.

Atlas. That’s what they called me. The one who holds it all up.

And by God, I wasn’t about to let it fall now.

I just couldn’t believe they already lost the cube in the last few days we were back after all that trouble.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

Two-Bit’s POV

You’d think traveling through time, fighting Hydra, and training under Peggy Carter herself would knock the wind outta a guy. But nope. My mouth still worked fine, even if the rest of me ached like I’d been run over by a tank.

“Berlin,” I said, leaning back in my chair and tossing a playing card in the air. “City of bratwursts, beer, and… what else they got over there?”

Johnny raised an eyebrow from where he sat polishing his gloves.

“Hydra,” Johnny deadpanned.

“Right, right. Almost forgot that tiny detail.” I smirked, catching the card before it hit the floor.

We were crammed into one of the barracks S.H.I.E.L.D. had set us up in, metal bunks, thin mattresses, not much to look at. Soda and Pony were arguing in the corner about who was hogging more space on the bed they were half-sharing, while Dally muttered curses about the new comm devices Dugan gave us.

I figured it was as good a time as any to lighten the mood. That’s what I did best, wasn’t it?

“Y’know,” I said, “these shiny new uniforms make us look like a knockoff Beatles cover band. We should get some guitars and tour Europe while we’re at it. ‘The Strays: Live from Berlin!’”

Steve barked a laugh, but Darry shot me that look, the one that said this ain’t the time, Keith. Yeah, yeah, I knew. But someone had to keep us from falling apart, and if that meant making a fool outta myself, so be it.

Peggy showed up not long after, striding into the barracks like she owned the place. Which, knowing her, she probably did.

“Gentlemen,” Peggy said, her clipped accent sharp as ever. “Final briefing is at 0600. Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

“More briefings?” Dally groaned.

“You’d prefer to go in blind?” Peggy shot back, eyebrow arched.

I snorted.

“Careful, Dal,” I teased. “She could probably knock your teeth out and not spill her tea.”

Peggy didn’t smile, but I thought I saw the corner of her mouth twitch before she turned to leave.

When the lights went out, a quiet settled heavily over the room. Too heavy. My jokes couldn’t keep out the nerves creeping in. I lay there on my bunk, staring at the ceiling, listening to Soda’s steady breathing and Pony’s restless turning.

Tomorrow, we’d be crawling through a sewer to face a mad scientist with a piece of the cube humming inside him. And for the first time, I wondered if maybe Darry was right to be scared of how far gone Pony looked when his eyes lit up.

“We’re gonna make it out, right?” I whispered into the dark, not sure if anyone was awake enough to hear.

No one answered.

And that silence was louder than any punchline I could come up with.

Morning came way too early, like it always does when you’ve barely slept. The buzzer on the wall went off at 0600 sharp, and Darry was already up, lacing his boots like he’d been awake for hours. Guy probably was.

Me? I rolled outta the bunk with my hair sticking up six different ways and my comm strapped to my wrist backward. Real picture of professionalism.

“Rise and shine, Strays,” Dugan barked as he shoved the barracks door open. He had a cigar clenched between his teeth already, smoke curling out in lazy rings. “Briefing in five. Move it!”

“Five?” I groaned, dragging myself upright. “Doesn’t the army believe in coffee?”

“Coffee’s at the briefing,” Dugan shot back without missing a beat.
That got me moving.

The briefing room looked like something out of a spy movie. A big map of Berlin stretched across the wall, red pins marking Hydra checkpoints. Peggy Carter was already there, arms crossed, watching us file in like she was grading every step we took.

She waited until Darry shut the door before she spoke.

“Dr. Vex is located here,” Peggy said, tapping a spot outside the city limits. “Industrial façade, but intelligence confirms his laboratories run several levels underground.”

She looked right at me.

“Hydra will expect infiltration from the ground level,” Peggy continued. “Which is why you’ll be entering from below.”

“Ah, yes,” I muttered, “the glamorous life of international heroes. Nothing says ‘saving the world’ like crawling through a sewer.”

Soda snorted. Darry shot me his patented shut it look. I shut it. For the moment.

Peggy went on.

“Once inside, you’ll split into two teams,” Peggy said. Distraction unit and recovery unit. Communication will be constant, no exceptions. If anyone goes silent, the mission is compromised.”
Dugan stomped out his cigar in the ashtray and dropped a folder on the table.

“And here’s the kicker, Vex doesn’t work alone,” Dugan said. “We’ve confirmed at least two enhanced operatives under his command. Expect resistance beyond standard Hydra troops.”

That set the room buzzing. Dally swore under his breath. Pony’s glow flickered faintly around his eyes, like the thought of cube energy nearby made his whole body hum.

Peggy’s voice cut clean through the noise.

“You are not alone in this,” Peggy said. “We’ll be monitoring from above. But once you’re inside, it’s you and only you.”
I leaned back in my chair, lacing my hands behind my head.

“So basically, same as it’s always been,” I said. “Us against the world.”

Peggy’s gaze pinned me down.

“If you want to survive Berlin, Mr. Matthews, I suggest you take it more seriously than that,” Peggy said.

I swallowed. Hard. She never called me by my last name before.

After the briefing, we suited up. The new uniforms weren’t exactly comfortable, but they felt solid. Mine even had extra holsters for my cards, which meant someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. had been paying attention. Nice touch.

As I slipped the mask over my eyes, I caught my reflection in the steel locker door. Didn’t look much like Keith Matthews anymore. Looked like someone else. Someone who might actually belong in this crazy world of cubes and Hydra and war.

“Ready?” Darry’s voice rumbled behind me.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, forcing a grin. “Let’s go save the future.”

But deep down, I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince him… or myself.

The Quinjet (yeah, that’s what Dugan called the bird we were riding in) cut through the sky like something out of a sci-fi comic. Way quieter than it had any right to be, considering we were flying over Europe.

I sat strapped in across from Pony, who kept twisting the comm unit on his wrist like he was trying to rub the nerves out of it. His eyes flickered blue now and again, little flashes he couldn’t hide. Every time they did, Darry’s jaw tightened a notch.

I wanted to crack a joke, but it felt wrong. Like laughing in church.

Soda leaned over, bumping my shoulder.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Soda whispered.

“Saving my energy,” I said. “Gonna need it for when the sewer stench knocks me out.”

That got him to grin, which was worth the effort.

Dugan stood near the cockpit, bracing himself as the jet tilted lower.

“We’re coming up on the insertion point,” Dugan called. “Strays, masks on, comms hot.”

Peggy’s voice came through the intercom, sharp, steady.

“Remember: two units,” Peggy said. “Darry leads recovery with Pony. Dally, Johnny, Soda, you’re a distraction. Two-Bit, you move between both units as needed. Keep them talking, keep them laughing if you must. Just keep them together.”

I blinked.

“That’s… actually my job?” I asked.

“Don’t disappoint me,” Peggy said, and the line clicked off.

No pressure, right?

We landed in the woods outside Berlin. Cold air hit me the second the hatch dropped, carrying that damp, earthy smell of winter. The compound wasn’t far, just a cluster of smokestacks stabbing the sky, but we didn’t head for the front.

Nope. Straight for the sewers.

The grate creaked as Darry wrenched it open, the smell hitting us like a brick wall.

“Great,” Steve groaned. “Just great.”

I tugged my mask down and waved him in.

“After you, sweetheart,” I teased.

“Bite me,” Steve muttered, but he went first.

One by one, we climbed down, boots splashing in cold, knee-deep water. My nose burned from the stench, but I kept the wisecracks rolling.

“Look at us,” I said, flashlight beam dancing over the brick walls. “Saviors of the free world, reduced to Ninja Turtles.”

Soda chuckled. Even Johnny cracked a small smile. Mission accomplished.

We slogged through the tunnels until Darry raised a fist, signaling halt. Up ahead, a faint hum thrummed through the walls, low and steady, like a giant’s heartbeat.

Pony froze. His eyes glowed brighter, washing the tunnel in pale light.

“It’s here,” Pony whispered. “The cube energy. It’s close.”

The whole gang went silent, every sound magnified: the drip of water, the shuffle of boots, the thud of my own heart.

Darry nodded once.

“Alright,” Darry said. “We split here. Distraction team, head left and stir up hell. Recovery, with me. Two-Bit, float.”

“Like a butterfly,” I said, masking the quiver in my gut.

Soda clapped my back.

“Don’t get lost,” Soda said.

“Me? Never.” I winked. “Hydra wouldn’t know what to do with me anyway.”

But the truth was, as we split off into the darkness, I couldn’t shake the feeling Hydra knew exactly what to do with all of us.

And I wasn’t sure jokes alone were gonna cut it this time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Steve’s POV

I hated sewers. Not ‘cause of the smell, though, yeah, that was bad enough, but because you couldn’t hear right down there. Every splash echoed, every drip sounded like footsteps sneaking up on you. And when you’ve got Hydra lurking around the corner, that kind of thing messes with your head.

I stayed close behind Johnny, trying to keep my nerves in check. He was quiet, flames flickering faintly around his hands like he was warming himself in the chill. Dally grumbled under his breath, and Soda, well, Soda tried to keep it light, but even he couldn’t hide the tension in his voice.

“Distraction team, my ass,” Dally muttered. “We’re the bait.”

“Bait works,” Soda said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “Fish bites, then Darry reels ‘em in.”

I tightened my grip on the shield slung over my arm. Not the Captain America one, we didn’t have that, but a reinforced S.H.I.E.L.D. model they’d lent me. It felt heavy, strange. Still, I figured if Hydra bullets came our way, it’d do the job.

Up ahead, the tunnel widened into a chamber. That’s when we heard it, boots. Dozens of them, stomping in rhythm. Hydra.

Johnny stiffened.

“They’re close,” Johnny said.

“Good,” Dally growled, cracking his knuckles. “Let ‘em come.”

I swallowed hard. We were outnumbered, for sure. But that was the point, wasn’t it? Get their eyes on us, give Darry and Pony a shot at the lab.

The first soldier rounded the corner, rifle raised. Then another, and another. In seconds, the chamber lit up with Hydra flashlights, the hiss of German voices echoing.

Soda flashed me a grin, wild and sharp.

“Time to make some noise,” Soda said.

Johnny stepped forward, flames bursting bright in his palms, the light throwing Hydra shadows against the walls. The soldiers shouted, raising their guns…

And then all hell broke loose.

I charged with the shield, catching the first Hydra soldier square in the chest. He slammed back into two others, rifles clattering into the water. Bullets ricocheted against the metal walls, sparks flying, the smell of gunpowder mixing with sewer rot.

Soda zipped past, a blur of motion, knocking helmets off with a speed punch. Johnny let loose a stream of fire that roared down the tunnel, forcing Hydra back in panic.

Through it all, Dally barreled forward like a wrecking ball, fists soaking up bullet impact until he swung and sent a soldier flying clear into the wall.

Me? I kept the shield up, blocking shots from Johnny’s blind side, making sure none of the guys went down. That was my job. Hold the line.

For the first time since setting foot in that sewer, I felt steady. Like maybe we could actually pull this off.

Still, as more boots thundered from deeper in the tunnel, I couldn’t shake the thought, this was only the beginning.

And somewhere above us, Darry and Pony were walking straight into Vex’s lair.

Hydra soldiers just kept coming. Didn’t matter how many Johnny singed or how many Soda zipped past and clocked in the jaw, there were more boots, more shouts in German, more rifles aimed our way.

I braced the shield as another volley of bullets rang out, the clang rattling up my arm. Dally shoved in next to me, soaking up impact like it was nothing, his face twisted into that half-snarl he always wore when the fight got good.

“Keep ‘em comin’!” Dally barked, swinging a fist that sent one soldier sailing into the water with a splash.

Soda zipped by, knocking rifles out of hands faster than the soldiers could even track him.

“Careful what you wish for, Dal,” Soda shouted. “We’ll be swimming in Hydra at this rate.”

Johnny flung a fireball down the tunnel, the flames catching a line of soldiers by their coats. They screamed and scattered, the light throwing shadows that danced across the walls. He looked pale, though; every blast drained him.

I tightened my grip on the shield, heart hammering.

“We need to draw them away from here," I said. "If they realize what we’re doing-”

“They’ll go for Darry and Pony,” Soda finished grimly.

Another squad rounded the corner, rifles raised. No time to think. I charged, shield first. The impact cracked against the nearest soldier, driving him back into the line. Water sprayed as I shoved forward, shouting over the chaos, “Keep moving! Pull them after us!”

Dally grinned, wild and dangerous.

“Now you’re talkin’,” Dally said.

We fought our way through the chamber, Hydra chasing in waves. Bullets sparked against stone, the air thick with smoke and sewer stench. I led with the shield, Johnny’s fire covering our flanks, Soda darting like lightning between us, and Dally wrecking everything in his path.

For a second, just a second, it felt like we had control.

Then something new echoed from the far tunnel.

Heavy, deliberate. Not boots. Not soldiers.

Clang. Clang.

Hydra soldiers backed off, muttering nervously. That alone set my gut twisting.

Out of the shadows, a figure stepped forward. Taller than Darry, armored head to toe in steel that gleamed under Johnny’s light. Hydra insignia painted across the chestplate. And in its hand, a massive, hammer-like weapon crackling faintly with blue energy.

“Aw, hell,” Soda whispered.

The thing’s voice boomed, distorted, and mechanical.

“You are not authorized to be here,” It said. “By order of Dr. Vex, you will be neutralized.”

Johnny’s flames flickered higher, but I raised a hand.

“Stand ready,” I said.

Dally spat into the water.

“Finally,” Dally said A real fight.”

I swallowed hard, lifted the shield, and planted my boots.

Hydra grunts were bad enough. But this? This was something else entirely.

And if this was the kind of monster Vex built for the tunnels, I didn’t even want to imagine what Darry and Pony were walking into upstairs.

The armored soldier stomped into the chamber, water rippling out around its boots. Sparks crackled from the hammer in its grip, the hum of cube energy setting my teeth on edge.

Hydra soldiers fell back to the walls, letting the thing take center stage. Which told me everything I needed to know: this wasn’t a grunt. This was their ace.

“Get behind me,” I muttered.

Dally barked a laugh.

“Cute, Randall,” Dally said. “But I don’t play backup.”

“Not a joke,” I snapped, planting the shield in front of me. The armored figure raised the hammer, and that’s when I felt it.

The hum inside the weapon wasn’t just energy. It was gears, pistons, a core thrumming with machinery. I could feel it, like invisible strings tugging against my mind.

I reached out with my will, the way Peggy and Dugan drilled me back in training. For a second, nothing. Then, click. The hammer shifted in its grip.

The soldier hesitated, looking down.

A grin tugged at my mouth.

“Oh, you’re mine,” I said.

I yanked with my mind. The hammer wrenched sideways, jerking against its gauntlet. The soldier staggered, surprised.

“Now!” I barked.

Johnny hurled fire, splashing across the armor’s chestplate in a burst of orange light. Soda zipped in, striking the joints at its knees and dashing back before the hammer could swing. Dally barreled forward, absorbing bullets from the soldiers still firing along the edges, then slammed a fist into the thing’s side.

The armored soldier roared, shoving us back with a shockwave of blue energy. My ears rang, my shield arm went numb, but I held on. The hammer lifted again, crackling brighter-
And I focused harder, sweat prickling my forehead. Engines, gears, machinery. Listen to it. Control it.

The hammer froze mid-swing.

The soldier strained, servos whirring, but I locked it in place with sheer will. Then, with a grunt, I wrenched it free. The weapon tore out of its grip and clattered across the chamber toward me.
I caught it with my free hand, cube energy buzzing so hot it nearly jolted me off my feet. My arm trembled, but I held it high.

The Hydra soldiers shouted in alarm. The armored brute staggered forward, fists empty.

“Looks like you dropped something,” I said, voice low.

Behind me, Soda laughed breathlessly.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Soda crowed.

The soldier charged bare-handed, water exploding under its steps. Johnny lit the ground in flame, slowing it down, while Dally wound up for a hit that could drop a wall.

And me? I lifted the hammer I’d stolen with my mind, gears thrumming under my command, and swung it back at the monster it came from.

The impact cracked like thunder.

The fight wasn’t over, but for the first time since setting foot in Berlin, I believed we had a shot.

The hammer slammed into the brute’s chestplate, sparks scattering across the tunnel. It reeled back, water churning under its boots. The cube energy flickered in the core of its armor, the glow stuttering like a dying lightbulb.

“Don’t let up!” I shouted.

Johnny didn’t need telling twice. Flames roared from his hands, coating the thing in fire. The steel hissed and blackened, though the brute barely slowed. Soda blurred in, landing a dozen strikes against its head before dashing clear.

Dally charged straight through the heat, his fist glowing faintly with energy from the bullets he’d absorbed. He swung, smashing into the brute’s chest. The armor caved in a little, and the monster let out a metallic roar, stumbling to one knee.

I held the hammer with both hands, mind locked on the gears inside. I could feel the cube energy fighting me, trying to override, but I gritted my teeth and forced it still. “
You’re done!” I said.

With one last pull of my power, I drove the hammer down onto the brute’s helmet. Metal crunched. The glow in its chest flickered, then went dark. The soldier collapsed into the water with a splash that echoed down the tunnels.

For a beat, no one moved.

Then Soda let out a whoop.

“That’s how it’s done, baby!” Soda crowed.

Johnny slumped against the wall, breathing hard, flames dying down around his hands.

“Tell that… to the rest of them," Johnny said.

Because the Hydra soldiers lining the chamber hadn’t stopped. More boots thundered from the tunnels ahead, rifles clicking into place.

Dally cracked his knuckles, grinning wildly.

“Round two," Dally grumbled.

I lifted the shield, still clutching the hammer in my other hand. My muscles screamed, but the machinery inside the weapon answered me now—like it recognized who was in charge.

The Hydra squad opened fire.

I swept my will across their rifles, gears jamming, bolts seizing up. One by one, the guns locked mid-fire, useless in their hands. Panic spread fast as bullets clattered into the water instead of flying at us.

“Whoa,” Soda breathed, wide-eyed. “That’s a neat trick.”

“Keep moving,” I barked. “We’ve done our job. Darry and Pony need us to hold them here.”

Hydra regrouped, pulling knives, batons, anything left. Dally cracked a grin and stepped forward.

“Finally,” Dally said. “A fair fight.”

The chamber erupted again, fists and fire and metal clashing in the dark.

Even as I swung the hammer and shield together, cutting down soldier after soldier, I couldn’t shake the thought running cold through my head:

If this is what Hydra throws at the bait… what the hell is waiting for Darry and Pony in the lab?

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

Dally’s POV

The hunk of metal hit the sewer floor with a splash that nearly knocked me off my feet. Sparks hissed, smoke curled, and for a second, all I could do was stare. Randall had just, what, thought at the thing? And the machine listened?

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I muttered, kicking the mech’s helmet with the tip of my boot. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Stevie.”

Steve still looked pale, sweat dripping down his forehead, but he held the shield tight like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Soda clapped him on the back, laughing, while Johnny tried to hide how drained he was from all the fire he’d thrown.

I shook my head. They were kids. Strong kids, sure, but kids. And the deeper we went, the worse it was gonna get. Hydra wasn’t stupid. They’d be loading the big guns around Vex.

Which meant Darry and Pony were probably walking straight into a death trap.

“C’mon,” I growled, waving them forward. “Standing around patting each other on the back ain’t gonna get us anywhere.”

We pushed deeper into the tunnels, water sloshing around our boots. The air was hotter now, thicker, like the whole place was alive. I didn’t need Pony’s glowing eyes to tell me we were close to the cube. I could feel it in my bones, humming like it wanted to crack me open from the inside out.

Hydra soldiers kept popping up in waves. Not as many as before, but enough to keep us on edge. I was running on muscle memory, swing, block, hit harder, while Steve used his shield like a wrecking ball, and Soda zipped circles around us. Johnny stayed quiet, his flames smaller now, but steady.

Finally, we hit a fork in the tunnels. Left sloped upward, toward what looked like an access ladder. Right plunged deeper, where the humming was louder.

I wiped sweat off my forehead, glancing between them.

“Well?” I said. “Up or down?”

Steve frowned, focusing like he could hear the gears even in the walls.

“Hydra’s sending reinforcements down here,” Steve grumbled. “They’ll bottleneck us if we keep going. We need higher ground.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Guess we climb.”

I let Soda go first, figured if the rungs broke, he’d at least hit the ground fast enough to bounce. Then Johnny, then Steve, and finally me. The ladder creaked, but it held, dumping us into what looked like a maintenance corridor. The air was clearer, the hum fainter.

For half a second, I thought maybe we’d caught a break.

Then the alarms blared. Red lights flashed, sirens howling through the compound.

Johnny swore under his breath. Steve lifted the shield. Soda’s grin faded.

And me? I just spat on the floor and cracked my knuckles.

“Good,” I said. “Let ‘em come. Been itching to break more skulls anyway.”

But deep down, I wasn’t just itching for a fight. I was itching to get to Darry and Pony before Hydra, or Vex, got to them first.

The sirens screamed like the whole place was choking on itself. Red lights pulsed down the narrow corridor, painting everything in flashes. Soda’s head whipped around, jittery like a damn jackrabbit. Steve was all stiff shoulders and shield raised, ready to throw down. Johnny’s fire flickered weakly at his fingertips, his face pale but determined.

Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, Two-Bit slid out of a side hatch, hair wild, grin plastered across his face.

“Took you long enough,” I muttered.

He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hey, somebody’s gotta check in on the other team,” Two-Bit said. “Don’t worry, Darry and Pony are still kicking. Or at least, they were when I left ‘em.”

Relief punched me in the chest harder than I expected. I covered it with a snort.

“Good,” I grunted. “Means I can keep bustin’ heads without worrying they’re already gone.”

Two-Bit fell in step with us, twirling a knife he must’ve picked up off some Hydra goon.

“So, what’d I miss?” Two-Bit asked.

“Giant metal freak with a hammer,” Soda said, still a little too breathless.

“Steve wrestled it with his brain,” Johnny added.

Two-Bit blinked.

“What, like Jedi mind tricks?” Two-Bit asked.

“More like wrench-in-the-gears tricks,” Steve muttered, rubbing his temple.

Two-Bit gave a low whistle.

“Well, that’s awesome.”

Before I could crack back, boots thundered from both ends of the corridor. Hydra troops, plenty of ‘em. Rifles raised, shouting in German, blocking every way out.

“Guess story time’s over,” I growled.

They opened fire.

I charged first, catching bullets in my shoulder and chest like they were nothing more than bee stings. My fists met the first soldier’s helmet and cracked it sideways. Behind me, Steve’s shield rang out, deflecting shots back down the hall. Soda zipped past in a blur, knocking rifles clean from hands before they could reload.

Two-Bit was everywhere at once, one second tossing a knife into a Hydra soldier’s thigh, the next cracking a joke in the middle of chaos.

“Hey, Dal, you’re really making a splash here!” Two-Bit yelled as I sent another guy into a leaking pipe.

“Shut up and swing!” I barked back, but I couldn’t hide the edge of a grin.

Johnny’s flames roared higher than before, lighting up the corridor, forcing the rest of Hydra to stumble back. His face was pale, sweat dripping, but his eyes burned just as hot as his fire.

The last soldier tried to bolt. Two-Bit tripped him with a sweep of his boot and knocked him out cold with the butt of a stolen rifle.

“And that’s how it’s done, boys,” Two-Bit said, brushing his hands together.

We stood there, catching our breath, the floor littered with groaning Hydra troops. The alarms still blared, red lights still flashing, but for a second, the fight was ours.

Steve glanced at me, voice low.

“We need to move,” Steve said. “Now. Darry’s counting on us to keep the heat away from his side.”

I spat, knuckles still throbbing.

“Then let’s make sure Hydra’s got no one left to throw at ‘em,” I said.

Two-Bit slapped my shoulder with a lopsided grin.

“Knew I was stuck with you for a reason, Dal,” Two-Bit said. “You’ve got a real motivational streak under all that grump.”

“Keep talking and I’ll show you my motivational fist,” I shot back.

But as we started moving again, deeper into the compound, I knew the joking was only covering what we all felt. The longer this went on, the closer Darry and Pony were to running out of time.

And I wasn’t about to let Hydra or Vex take them without a fight.

We moved fast, Hydra’s alarms still screaming down every corridor. My knuckles were raw, my shirt torn, and I was itching for another fight. Hydra wasn’t gonna quit, and neither was I.
Two-Bit, though, he was having the time of his life.

He sauntered along beside us like we weren’t marching straight into hell, spinning that knife around his fingers.

“Y’know,” Two-Bit said, voice carrying loud over the sirens, “this place is a real fixer-upper. Bit of paint, some curtains, maybe fewer Nazi scientists, could be cozy.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when the ceiling light above flickered and blew, showering sparks right on the Hydra squad rounding the corner ahead. They shouted, blinded just long enough for Soda to zip through and send their rifles flying.

I stopped short, glaring at him.

“Did you…?” I said.

Two-Bit grinned, all teeth.

“What can I say?” Two-Bit said. “My charm’s electric.”

Johnny groaned, but the smirk tugging at his mouth gave him away.

We pressed on, and the corridor widened into what looked like a storage bay, crates stacked high, catwalks above, Hydra symbols painted everywhere. Soldiers poured in from both sides.
I cracked my knuckles.

“Finally,” I said. “A proper welcome.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Steve muttered, raising the shield.

The fight broke like a dam. Bullets shredded through the air, clattering against Steve’s shield and my chest as we charged. Soda darted between the crates, Johnny’s flames roared bright again, and I tore through anyone dumb enough to get close.

Then Two-Bit shouted over the chaos.

“Hey, careful with those crates!” Two-Bit said. “Pretty sure they’re full of top-secret Hydra toilet paper!”

The nearest soldier hesitated, actually hesitated, looking back at the crates. His buddy tripped over a box a second later, knocking half the stack down onto their own squad.

“Unbelievable,” Steve muttered as he bashed two helmets together.

“That’s me,” Two-Bit called, ducking under a swing and elbowing a soldier square in the gut. “Unbelievable luck.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but damn if he wasn’t right. The more he ran his mouth, the more Hydra stumbled, guns jammed, boots slipped on a wet floor, crates toppled at the worst possible moments for them.

It was chaos. Beautiful, stupid chaos.

And it kept us alive.

By the time the last soldier dropped, the storage bay looked like a tornado had ripped through it. Smoke curled, crates splintered, Hydra groaning on the ground.

Johnny wiped sweat off his forehead, flames dimming.

“That… shouldn’t have worked,” Johnny said tiredly.

“Eh,” Two-Bit said, brushing himself off. “Don’t question genius.”

I shoved past him, breathing hard but grinning despite myself.

“Genius, my ass,” I grumbled. “But if your mouth keeps screwing with Hydra like that, I ain’t telling you to shut it anymore.”

Two-Bit bowed like he was on stage.

“High praise, Dal,” Two-Bit said. “High praise.”

Steve shouldered his shield, scanning the far door.

“We don’t stop here,” Steve said. “Darry and Pony are still ahead. Let’s finish this.”

I spat, tightening my fists.

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s.”

We started toward the next hall, Two-Bit still humming some off-key tune under his breath. And even though the alarms blared, and my gut told me Hydra had worse waiting for us, I couldn’t help but feel like the bastard might just laugh us all into surviving this.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Johnny’s POV

I was running on fumes. My chest burned, my legs felt heavy, and every time the fire came to my hands, it came slower. Smaller. Like, even the flames knew I was wearing out.

But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Not with Darry and Pony out there.

We pushed through another hallway, Hydra alarms wailing in our ears. Steve led with the shield, Dally swung at anything dumb enough to block us with his kinetic powers, Soda zipped so fast I barely caught more than flashes, and Two-Bit, well, Two-Bit talked, and somehow the walls shook and Hydra tripped over themselves every time he did.

Me? I just tried to keep the light in front of us. My fire lit the path when the red emergency lamps sputtered out. Without it, we’d be stumbling blind.

We reached a heavy blast door at the end of the hall, sealed tight. Steve pressed his palm against it, eyes narrowing.

“Hydra tech,” Steve said. “Gears. I can feel the locks.”

“Think you can open it?” Soda asked.

Steve gritted his teeth. The metal groaned, gears whining under pressure. Sparks danced along the seams. Slowly, painfully, the door shuddered and rolled aside, screeching like it hadn’t been moved in years.

What waited on the other side froze me in place.

A wide chamber, lined with glass tanks filled with glowing blue liquid. Shapes floated inside—half-finished machines, human silhouettes wired with tubing, masks clamped over their faces. Hydra wasn’t just making weapons. They were making… things.

Two-Bit muttered, “Well, that’s not creepy at all.”

I stepped closer, stomach twisting. The fire at my fingertips flickered on its own, reacting to the hum of energy in the room. I pressed my hand against one of the tanks and jerked back when the figure’s eyes snapped open, glowing the same blue as the cube.

Before I could shout, alarms shifted to a deeper tone. The whole chamber trembled.

From the far wall, a platform lowered, and there he was. Dr. Vex.

White lab coat, gloves glowing with faint blue light, glasses glinting in the alarms. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked calm. Too calm.

“Ah,” Dr. Vex said, his voice carrying across the chamber. “The Strays. I was wondering when you’d find me.”

“You’ve got five seconds to come quietly before I break every bone in your body,” Dally snarled.

Vex smiled thinly.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Dr. Vex said. “You’ve seen too much. But don’t worry…” He lifted his hands, energy crackling around them. “…you’ll serve a purpose yet.”

The tanks hissed. One by one, the figures inside stirred. Their eyes glowed, their limbs jerked, and then glass shattered, spilling glowing liquid as Hydra’s creations stepped free.

I staggered back, fire lighting at my fists even as my arms trembled.

“Guys… we’re in trouble,” I said.

And for the first time all night, I wasn’t sure if the fire in me would be enough.

The first of Hydra’s “creations” stumbled out of its broken tank, skin stretched thin over metal plates, tubes still dangling from its arms. Its eyes glowed cube-blue, and when it let out a mechanical hiss, the others followed, half a dozen of ‘em, surrounding us.

My fire sparked up without me even thinking. Instinct. Fear. I could feel the heat pulse off my palms, but it was shaky, sputtering. Not enough. Not for this.

Vex watched us like we were rats in a maze. Calm. Detached.

“Don’t waste your strength,” Dr. Vex said. “My soldiers don’t tire. They don’t bleed. You cannot win.”

“Yeah?” Dally spat, stepping forward with a grin that made my stomach twist. “Then they’re perfect for me.”

The first creature lunged, claws scraping sparks off the floor. Dally didn’t dodge. He took the hit, let it slam into his chest, hard enough to knock any normal guy flat. He stumbled back a step, then straightened, eyes burning brighter.

“Yeah,” Dally muttered, flexing his shoulders. “That’s what I needed.”

Another came at him. He caught the punch with his bare hand, let the force roll through him, and laughed. His whole frame seemed to vibrate with raw energy, every hit feeding him, building him stronger.

“Dally, don’t overdo it!” Steve barked.

But Dally just barreled forward, slamming his fist into the creature’s jaw. The thing went airborne, crashing through a row of tanks in a spray of glass and blue liquid.

Two-Bit whistled.

“Remind me never to arm-wrestle you again,” Two-Bit said.

“Shut up and swing,” Dally growled, but he was grinning.

I tried to keep up. Flames burst from my hands, catching two of the creatures across their chests. They staggered, hissing, but didn’t fall. My knees buckled. I was running out, fast.

Soda zipped in, knocking a claw swipe just off course.

“Johnny, focus!” Soda said.

“I am focusing!” I snapped, flames flaring hot before sputtering again. My vision blurred. I couldn’t tell if it was the smoke, the sirens, or just me burning out.

One of the creatures zeroed in on me. Claws raised. Too fast. Too strong.

Then, bam. It slammed into Dally’s shoulder instead, raking him open. He grunted, blood running down his arm, but instead of dropping, he roared, energy flooding him. His fist lit up with a burst of raw kinetic power, and he smashed the creature down so hard the floor cracked beneath it.

He looked back at me, panting but alive, stronger than I’d ever seen him.

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Dally said. “I’ll take the hits. You keep the fire.”

I wanted to tell him I didn’t have much left. That the flames were burning me out. But looking at him, standing taller, stronger, feeding on every blow Hydra threw, I swallowed it down and lit my hands again.

“Alright,” I muttered, forcing the fire up one more time. “Then let’s burn ‘em together.”

Vex just smiled from his perch, hands glowing brighter, like this was all part of the plan.

And deep down, I knew he hadn’t even shown us the real fight yet.

The room was in chaos. Sparks rained from busted tanks, Hydra’s pet monsters thrashed and hissed, alarms screamed until I thought my ears would split. Dally was a storm in the middle of it all; every hit he took made him burn hotter, stronger.

He slammed one creation down, and when another clawed his ribs, he straight-up laughed, driving a fist into its chest so hard its metal frame crumpled in on itself. The floor shook with every blow.

“Come on, you bastards!” Dally roared. “Hit me harder!”

It scared me almost as much as it scared them.

Two-Bit darted past, knife flashing, his jokes spilling out like he was just messing around back home.

“Careful, Dal!” Two-Bit said. “You keep yelling like that, Hydra’ll think you’re on their payroll.”

As if to prove him wrong, a creature lunged at Two-Bit, only to trip on a loose pipe that hadn’t been there a second before. It slammed headfirst into the wall and didn’t get back up. Two-Bit tipped me a wink.

“See?” Two-Bit said. “Told ya, Johnny-boy. Luck’s on our side.”

I wanted to believe him. But the fire in my hands was guttering like a candle in the wind. Each blast left me dizzier, my legs shaking under me.

Then the humming changed. Louder. Sharper.

I looked up, and Dr. Vex finally moved.

He stepped down from the platform, calm as ever, his gloves glowing brighter with that sick cube-blue light. The air around him crackled, tugging at the flames in my palms. My fire bent toward him, like he was sucking the energy right out of me.

“Impressive,” Dr. Vex said, voice smooth, clinical. “But all your chaos, your strength, your fire, nothing compared to this.”

He raised a hand. Blue energy lashed out in a whip, catching Steve’s shield and hurling him clear across the chamber. The clang when he hit the wall made my stomach twist.

Soda blurred forward, aiming a punch for Vex’s jaw, but froze mid-swing, suspended in glowing threads of energy. Vex flicked his wrist, and Soda went flying, crashing into a tank with a sickening thud.

“Stop!” I shouted, flames flaring, but weaker, pulled toward his glow. My knees buckled, fire sputtering.

Vex turned those cold eyes on me.

“Ah,” Dr. Vex mocked. “The boy with the fire. You’re… different.” He stepped closer, the energy around him tugging at me like invisible chains. “The cube hums through you. It wants to burn brighter. But you… You’re holding it back.”

My chest clenched. Heat swirled in my ribs like it wanted out, like it wasn’t even mine anymore.

“Get away from him!” Dally bellowed. He charged, fists blazing with stored energy. Vex didn’t even flinch. He caught Dally’s punch in one hand, the room shaking with the impact.

Dally roared, shoving harder, his strength climbing with every ounce of damage pouring into him. For a second, he had Vex sliding back, boots screeching on metal.

But then Vex smiled and unleashed a blast of energy point-blank.

It hurled Dally across the chamber like a rag doll. He hit the floor hard, smoke curling off his chest, and for the first time, all fight… he didn’t get up right away.

My stomach dropped. The fire in me surged, desperate, furious. My vision blurred red-orange.

“No…” I whispered.

And then the flames roared out of me like they’d been waiting, swallowing my arms, my chest, the whole chamber glowing bright.

Vex’s smirk finally faltered.

The fire ripped out of me before I could stop it.

Not the flickers I’d been throwing all night. Not the little bursts that kept the dark at bay. This was everything: a flood, a furnace, a sun trapped in my chest, finally breaking loose.

The walls glowed red under the heat. Metal warped, pipes shrieked as they burst, and alarms melted into silence. For a heartbeat, even Hydra’s monsters froze.

Vex raised an arm, his cube energy flaring like a shield. My flames slammed into it, so bright I had to squeeze my eyes shut. I felt the ground tremble beneath us, felt the air scream as heat tore through it.

When I opened my eyes, Vex was sliding back, boots scraping. His smirk was gone. His shield cracked, spiderwebs of blue splitting under the weight of my fire.

“You-!” Dr. Vex’s voice wavered for the first time. “You shouldn’t, this power! It’s not yours!”

“Then take it from me!” I shouted, voice raw, fire pouring out harder, hotter.

The creations shrieked, their cube-blue eyes flickering as my flames washed over them. Tubes melted, circuits fried. They collapsed one by one, screeching as liquid boiled off their bodies.

Behind me, I could hear Two-Bit whooping, his laughter echoing like it made the flames stronger. Steve dragged himself up, shield raised against the heat, eyes wide but steady. Soda groaned from where he landed, staring at me like I’d grown a second head.

And Dally, Dally was laughing. Coughing, beaten, but laughing.

“That’s it, kid!” Dally said. “Burn that son of a bitch down!”

I wanted to. God, I wanted to.

But the fire wasn’t listening to me anymore. My arms shook, my chest felt like it was tearing open, and still the flames poured. The heat licked at the team, too, forcing them back. The chamber was turning into an oven.

Vex staggered, glove sparking, his shield cracking apart. But instead of fear, I saw recognition. Calculation.

“You’re… connected,” Dr. Vex whispered through the roar. “The cube sings in you, all of you. Perfect. You’ll burn the world, and I’ll harness it.”

He thrust his hand forward, and his energy lashed into the heart of my fire. For a second, blue and orange clashed, screaming light filling every corner of the room. The floor split, the tanks shattered, liquid and steam flooding the chamber.

I fell to my knees, the fire snapping back against me, burning me from the inside. I screamed, clutching my chest, vision swimming.

I didn’t know if it was me or the cube or something else entirely, but I knew one thing.

If I didn’t stop soon, I was gonna take everyone with me.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Pony’s POV

The ground shook beneath us, a low rumble that rattled dust from the ceiling of the Hydra base. My chest tightened. Johnny. I could feel it, fear, pain, fire tearing him apart inside. His emotions slammed into me like waves, burning hot and desperate.

“Darry,” I gasped, clutching my head. “It’s Johnny. He’s losing it.”

Darry slowed, his jaw set, shielded from the quake by nothing but sheer stubbornness and skin tougher than steel.

“Hold it together, Pony,” Darry said. “We’ll get to him.”

We were deep in the compound, Peggy and Dugan just behind us, both armed and scanning the corridors. Hydra alarms still screamed, but the real danger was under our feet. Johnny’s panic wasn’t just panic; it was an inferno, threatening to swallow everything.

I closed my eyes, breathing hard. If I focused, I could reach further. Not just feel Johnny, I could push back. My mind brushed against his, flames searing, fear twisting. He was begging for it to stop, terrified of burning us all alive.

“I’ve got him,” I whispered, light sparking in my hands, wrapping me in a pale shield. “He’s scared. He’s… he’s killing himself with it.”

Darry’s hand landed heavily on my shoulder.

“Then you keep him steady,” Darry said. “I’ll take care of Vex.”

We rounded the corner, and the world turned orange. Heat slammed us in the face as we stepped into the chamber, a nightmare of fire and steam. Tanks melted into slag, Hydra’s monsters charred husks on the floor. In the middle of it, Johnny knelt, fire pouring off him like a volcano cracking open.

Dally was down, coughing, but pushing himself up. Steve’s shield glowed from the heat. Soda shielded his face, Two-Bit squinting through the flames.

And Vex, Vex stood firm in the heart of the storm, cube energy wrapping around him like armor, feeding off Johnny’s fire. His eyes gleamed when he saw us.

“Ah,” Vex sneered. “The brothers join the fray. Just in time to burn.”

Darry stepped forward, rolling his shoulders, the air shimmering from the heat.

“You’ve got a real mouth on you for a dead man,” Darry said.

Before Vex could answer, Darry charged. The floor cracked under his boots as he plowed through the inferno, fists swinging. Fire washed over him, but his skin didn’t so much as blister. He caught Vex square in the chest, the impact shaking the whole chamber.

Meanwhile, I forced myself toward Johnny. The flames licked at me, burning, but I wrapped myself in light, shields, thin at first, then brighter, bending the fire away.

“Johnny!” I shouted, dropping to my knees beside him. His eyes were wild, glowing orange, tears cutting clean lines down his soot-stained face. “You gotta hear me, Johnny, it’s me. It’s Pony.”

“I…I can’t stop it!” Johnny choked, flames bursting from his hands, slamming against my shield. “I’ll kill you, get away, ”

“No!” I threw every ounce of will into my voice, into my power. Light surged, not to block but to connect—threads of calm, of memory. I pushed into his mind, nights under the stars, books we passed between us, the way he always looked smaller but never weaker.

“You’re not fire, Johnny,” I said. “You’re you. You’re one of us. And you ain’t burning alone.”

The flames stuttered, flickered. His emotions hit me raw: fear, shame, but also hope. For a second, I felt him ease.

Behind us, Darry and Vex crashed together, cube energy colliding with unbreakable strength, each blow shaking the walls.

And in front of me, Johnny’s fire finally began to bend. Not vanish, never vanish, but bend, wrapping into the light I projected, shaped, steadied.

We weren’t out of it. Not yet. But Johnny wasn’t burning alone anymore.

The chamber was alive with chaos, Darry trading blows with Dr. Vex like gods colliding, Johnny flickering between control and collapse, and the rest of us struggling to keep the whole place from burning down on top of us.

I pressed harder into Johnny’s mind, light flooding from my palms to weave around his fire. My shields bent, shaping his flames instead of smothering them. It was like trying to tame a hurricane with a thread, but the more I pushed my calm into him, the more he grabbed onto it.

“You’re not a monster,” I whispered, voice trembling but steady in his head. “You’re family.”

His panic hit me in a raw wave.

“I don’t wanna kill you, Pony, I can’t stop-” Johnny thought.

“You don’t have to,” I shot back, wrapping him in memory and light. “I’ll stop it with you.”

The fire curved, bending into streams that coiled harmlessly against my shield instead of exploding outward. He gasped like he’d just surfaced for air.

Meanwhile, Darry roared and smashed Vex through a steel pillar. Sparks rained down as Vex staggered, cube-light crawling over his body like armor.

“You’re wasting your strength!” Vex shouted, hurling a blue bolt that scorched the air. Darry caught it with both hands. His shirt burned, his skin smoked, but he planted his boots and didn’t budge.

“You call this strength?” Darry growled, throwing the energy aside. “Strength’s knowing when you’ve got responsibility, when people are counting on you.”

He charged again, fists like wrecking balls. Vex raised a shield, but Darry’s punch shattered through it like glass, sending him reeling.

Steve picked that moment to step in. He stretched out a hand, eyes narrowing. The gears and mechanisms in Hydra’s broken tanks shivered, then shot across the floor like a swarm of angry bees. Pipes wrapped around Vex’s arm, machinery clamped onto his leg, slowing him down.

“Thought you liked machines,” Steve muttered, sweat beading on his forehead. “Try choking on ‘em.”

Vex snarled and ripped free with a blast of energy, but it gave Darry the opening to drive him back into the wall.

Across the chamber, Two-Bit was chaos incarnate. He darted between collapsing pipes, tossing out jokes like grenades.

“Careful, Doc!” Two-Bit hollered. “Pretty sure OSHA’s gonna have a word with you about all this workplace safety stuff!”

Almost on cue, a steel beam broke loose overhead and crashed down, missing Two-Bit by inches, but slamming right onto one of Vex’s failed creations that had started to rise again.

Two-Bit grinned like the devil.

“See?” Two-Bit taunted. “Comedy kills.”

Soda blurred in beside him, steam coming from his boots from the speed. He skidded to a stop, grin flashing as three Hydra soldiers, who must’ve survived the earlier carnage, rushed through a side door.

“Fellas,” Soda said, voice honey-smooth, “why don’t you sit this one out?”

Their aggression flickered, their grips loosening on their weapons. Before they could shake it off, Soda blurred forward again, disarming them and getting them to put their guard down to his charm.

He tossed a wink back at me.

“Fast and charming,” Soda said. “Still got it.”

Dally, meanwhile, was back on his feet, bloodied but grinning widely. He let one of the creatures slash him across the back, his body jerking forward with the force. Then he straightened, chest heaving, eyes wild.

“That all you got?” Dally asked. His fists blazed with stolen kinetic energy, brighter than before. With a roar, he grabbed the creature by the throat and slammed it into the ground so hard the floor cracked.

I felt Johnny’s awe ripple through me, weak but steady. His fire had steadied now, folding into my light like we were breathing the same air. His voice brushed mine, hoarse but certain.

“I got this, Pony,” Johnny thought. “Thanks to you.”

I tightened my grip on his shoulder.

“No, Johnny,” I said. “We got this. Together.”

In front of us, Darry lifted a dented metal beam like it weighed nothing, using it as a club to keep Vex off balance. Steve’s gears locked around Vex’s gauntlet again, and Dally barreled in with a punch that detonated in a burst of energy.

For the first time, Dr. Vex actually stumbled, coughing blood. His sneer faltered.

But his eyes burned brighter, cube energy pulsing like a heartbeat.

“You think this is victory?” Vex hissed. “You’re only delaying the inevitable. The cube chose me.”

Darry planted himself between him and us, fists raised, voice steady as a rock.

“No,” Darry said. “It chose all of us. And we ain’t done fighting.”

The chamber shook again as Vex drew more power. My light shields brightened, Johnny’s fire coiling with mine like a shared heartbeat. Darry’s stance hardened, the others circling in.
We were bruised, bloody, and burning out.

But for the first time, I knew, really knew, we were fighting as one.

The chamber pulsed with cube-light, every beat rattling through my bones. Vex stood at the center, pulling power into himself like a black hole, veins glowing blue beneath his skin. The others were holding strong, but I could feel it, fear spiking under their anger, exhaustion creeping in at the edges.

I didn’t just hear it. I felt it. Their emotions hit me like thunderclaps.

Darry’s stubborn resolve: “I won’t let them down.”

Johnny’s fragile steadiness: “I can’t lose control again.”

Dally’s savage joy: “Hit me harder, I’ll hit back harder.”

Steve’s focus, Soda’s charm-smirk covering his worry, Two-Bit’s humor hiding a sliver of fear.

All of it poured into me. I held it. Shaped it.

Vex sneered at us, blue flames sparking in his hands.

“You think six broken boys and two washed-up agents can stop me?” Vex sneered. “I’ve tapped the cube. I am.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Two-Bit cut in, twirling his knife. “You’re inevitable. You’re destiny. You’re what happens when Einstein gets bored and evil. Heard it before.”

He winked, and right then, the ceiling groaned. A pipe burst, spraying scalding steam straight into Vex’s face. He staggered, cursing.

Dally didn’t hesitate. He charged through the steam, letting Vex’s blast hammer him square in the chest. Energy flared, hurling him backward, but when he rose, his fists glowed white-hot with stored power.

“Bad move,” Dally growled and swung. His punch cracked against Vex’s shield, shattering it like glass.

Steve followed, gears and shards of machinery rising from the floor to wrap around Vex’s legs.

“Let’s keep you grounded,” Steve said.

Soda blurred in; his grin was dazzling, working its charm.

“Relax, Doc,” Soda said. “Breathe. Maybe stop trying to conquer the world, huh?”

The hypnosis seeped in. I felt it, Vex’s fury slipping, confusion taking hold.

That was my moment.

I raised my hands, light blooming around me, not just shields this time, illusions. I wrapped the chamber in a blaze of false fire and shadows, mirrors of Vex himself surrounding him from every angle. His eyes widened, darting from copy to copy, trying to tell what was real.

“You ain’t fighting one of us,” I said, my voice ringing in his mind and through the illusions. “You’re fighting all of us.”

Johnny stepped up beside me, his fire curling into the light, coiling brighter and hotter but steady now.

“And we ain’t alone anymore,” Johnny said.

Vex roared, breaking free of Johny’s ash, shattering Steve’s gears, and Soda’s charm, but Darry was already moving. He swung that steel beam like it weighed nothing, slamming it across Vex’s chest. The sound echoed like thunder.

The scientist flew backward, crashing through the wreckage of tanks, sparks raining down. He staggered to his feet, blood on his lip, cube-light dimming. His smirk was gone.

“This isn’t over,” Vex spat, clutching his chest. The cube energy around him flared violently, and before Darry could close the distance, Vex vanished in a burst of blue light, gone, like smoke in the wind.

The silence afterward was deafening. The alarms had burned out, the flames guttered low. The only sounds were our ragged breaths.

I dropped to my knees, my light flickering out. Johnny leaned against me, exhausted but alive. Darry set the beam down with a heavy clang, scanning the room like Vex might pop back any second.
Soda flashed us a tired grin.

“Well… if that’s what Berlin’s like, can we vote for Paris next time?” Sodas asked.

Two-Bit laughed, shaky but real.

“Yeah, but only if Hydra’s dumb enough to follow us there,” Two-Bit said.

I couldn’t laugh. Not yet. Not with the echo of Vex’s fury still humming through me. He wasn’t done. Not even close.

But I looked around at my brothers, bloodied, burned, exhausted, and I knew one thing.

Neither were we.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Soda’s POV

The first thing I noticed after Vex blinked outta the room wasn’t the wreckage. It wasn’t the fried monsters or the busted tanks or the fact that the whole place still smelled like burnt rubber and metal.
It was my brothers.

Pony was kneeling with Johnny, both of ‘em covered in soot, Pony’s light flickering faint like a dying candle. Darry stood tall but stiff, chest heaving like he’d carried the weight of the world again. Two-Bit still cracked a smile, but it was shaky, too close to the edge. And Dally… Dally was grinning like a lunatic even though he was bleeding from everywhere.

Me? My legs wouldn’t stop moving, even when I was standing still. Adrenaline made me jittery. I wanted to crack a joke, flash a smile, make it all seem easier, but my legs were buzzing.

Then the boots came. Heavy, sure, disciplined. SHIELD stormed the chamber in formation, guns out, eyes sharp. Peggy Carter herself strode in after them, silver hair shining under the ruined lights, expression somewhere between relief and a storm cloud. Dugan followed, shotgun slung, scowling like we were all grounded.

Peggy’s eyes swept the room, landed on us, and for half a second, the storm broke. Relief softened her face. “

You’re alive,” Peggy said, voice low but certain. “Thank God.”

“Barely,” Dally muttered, then spat blood on the floor. “But we gave him hell.”

“That you did,” Dugan grumbled, checking over the wreckage. “And you wrecked half a Hydra compound in the process. Fine work, kids. Next time, maybe leave some for the cleanup crew.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. Not because it was funny, but because if I didn’t, I was gonna choke on the weight in the air.

“Sorry, sir,” I said. “We don’t really do things halfway.”

Peggy’s eyes landed on me, sharp.

“Clearly,” Peggy said. “You all just faced one of Hydra’s most dangerous scientists and lived. That’s no small feat.” She softened again when she looked at Pony, then Johnny. “But this nearly cost you more than your lives, didn’t it?”

I felt Pony flinch, emotions spiking in him, fear, shame, love for Johnny, all tangled. I put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

“He’s still here,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. “We all are.”

Darry crossed his arms, the blood on his shirt steaming as it dried. “

We’ve gotta be ready,” Darry said. “Vex’ll be back, and stronger. We can’t stumble into it again. Next time, we end it.”

Peggy nodded.

“You’ll have SHIELD’s support,” Peggy said. “For now, you’ll rest. Heal. We’ll cover your tracks back home. School, work, no one will know you were gone.”

That actually made me grin.

“So basically, superhero sick days?” I asked.

Two-Bit chuckled weakly.

“Guess that makes Peggy the world’s scariest principal,” Two-Bit said.

Peggy didn’t smile, but her eyes warmed.

“If that’s what it takes to keep you boys alive,” Peggy said.

The team started moving, SHIELD medics checking wounds, agents clearing debris. Johnny leaned heavily against Pony, who kept that shield of light around them both, fragile but steady. Dally waved off help, naturally. Steve fiddled with a broken piece of machinery, already thinking about how to use it.

Me? I stood in the middle of the chaos, smoke coming off my traction boots, and realized I wasn’t shaking anymore. The fight was over, for now.

But I couldn’t shake Vex’s words. The cube chose us.

My grin slipped. Because deep down, I knew he wasn’t finished. And neither were we.

The years rolled on quicker than a Chevy on an open road. One minute we were limping outta that Hydra base, coughing on ash and cube-light, and the next… well, twenty years had passed, and we still looked like kids caught in the middle of a gang war.

In the rest of 1967…

Peggy and Dugan sat us down in a SHIELD safehouse not long after Berlin. A round table, coffee that tasted like tar, and folders thick with lies they were gonna feed the world.

“You boys can’t go back to Tulsa like nothing’s happened,” Peggy told us, her voice iron wrapped in velvet. “Hydra will be watching. But you also can’t vanish. People will ask questions.”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit muttered, slouched in his chair, “like how we’re supposed to explain looking twenty-one forever. Folks back home are already saying I don’t age ’cause of all the beer.”

That earned him a smack upside the head from Darry.

Peggy laid it out straight: SHIELD would give us covers, identities, papers that said we were students, workers, soldiers, whatever we needed. The story would be that we’d been “recruited into special government programs.” Technically true.

And we… went along with it. What else could we do?

In 1970…

By the early ’70s, Darry was a full-on college man. SHIELD set him up at Columbia, pushing him into degrees in structural engineering and political science. He lectured on responsibility the same way he used to scold us for leaving dishes in the sink. Except now he wore a tie, and his students actually took notes.

I remember barging into one of his classes once, leaning against the doorway in my leather jacket.

“Hey, teach,” I called, “you explainin’ to them kids how to lift Buicks in your free time?”

Darry gave me the look. The same look that used to freeze me when I was twelve.

“Sodapop, some of us are trying to shape the next generation,” Darry said.

“Yeah, shape ’em into what?” I teased. “Superheroes with homework?”

The class laughed. Darry didn’t. But later, I caught him smiling when he thought I wasn’t looking.

In 1972….

Pony turned his gifts inward. Empathy, light, all that deep-thinking stuff, it was perfect for a writer. SHIELD made sure his books hit shelves under pen names. Poetry, essays, and even a novel about brothers that critics called “haunting and luminous.”

He didn’t age, but his words did. They grew heavier every year.

One night, I found him hunched over a typewriter, light dancing faintly at his fingertips as he wrote.

“Don’t you ever get tired of carrying everyone else’s feelings?” I asked.

He glanced up, eyes glowing soft in the lamplight.

“Don’t you?” Pony asked.

Couldn’t answer that one.

In 1974…

Steve Randall dove headfirst into mechanics. Airplanes, cars, even the first clunky computers SHIELD dragged in. His power made him a prodigy, gears bent for him, engines purred.

By ’74, he had a master’s in mechanical engineering and a secret clearance at Stark Industries. Sometimes he’d sit in a garage with a Mustang stripped to the frame, parts floating in the air around him, his eyes glazed like he was half in love with the machinery.

“Steve,” Two-Bit once called, balancing a wrench on his finger, “you ever think about how creepy it is you’re basically dating your car?”

“Shut up,” Steve muttered, cheeks red. But the Mustang revved without him touching it, like it was backing him up.
In 1976…

Two-Bit never did the degree thing. SHIELD didn’t want him anywhere near formal structures, too unpredictable. But they used him as a field agent, the kind of guy who could walk into a rigged poker game and walk out with enemy intel and everyone smiling.

He bragged about “studying probability” in Vegas. Which was his way of saying he drank his way through missions, cracked jokes that warped reality, and somehow always landed on his feet.

Once, Peggy pinched the bridge of her nose in a briefing and sighed.

“You are either a miracle or a disaster, Mr. Mathews,” Peggy said. “I’m not sure which.”

Two-Bit just grinned.

“Why not both?” Two-Bit asked.'

In 1978…

Dally never sat behind a desk. He stayed in the field, SHIELD’s wrecking ball. Hydra bases, mob operations, dirty wars, he went where the pain was and came back stronger for it.

Every mission nearly broke him. Every mission made him scarier.

He’d show up bloodied, bruised, and smirking.

“You shoulda seen the other guys,” Dally rasped, before collapsing on the couch.

I asked him once if he ever thought about a normal life. He snorted.

“Normal’s for suckers, Soda,” Dally said. “I take the hits so you don’t gotta.”

And that was that.

In 1980….

Johnny stuck close to Pony and me. He was scared of his power, sure, but by the ’80s, he learned control, meditation, training, long nights with Peggy guiding him.

By ’80, he could light a match in his palm and let it burn without fear. He even worked with SHIELD’s science division, helping them understand “cube resonance.”

But I still saw the look in his eyes sometimes. Afraid that if he slipped, he’d take us all down with him.

In 1983…

Me? I bounced around. Tried acting for a while, SHIELD set me up with screen tests. My charm field made me too good. Directors said I was magnetic, but unnatural. Like, people couldn’t stop staring.
So I stuck with SHIELD. Missions, recon, charm when we needed it. My speed made me the courier. In combat, I felt untouchable, my smile breaking fights before they started.

Still, every time I looked in a mirror, I saw the same face I’d had in ’67. Not a wrinkle. Not a line. Just me, stuck.

“You think folks’ll ever notice?” I asked Darry one night. “That we don’t change?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just stared out a window.

“They already have,” Darry said.

In 1987…. Things changed.

We were together in New York, a rare night. Pizza boxes stacked on Steve’s workbench, Two-Bit teaching Johnny a card trick, Pony pretending he wasn’t watching Darry grade papers. Dally smoked by the window, looking bored.

Then all our pagers buzzed at once.

I flipped mine open. One word.

VEX.

The room went silent. Twenty years of pretending, of building lives, of waiting, over in a heartbeat.

Two-Bit whistled low.

“Well, boys… looks like round two,” Two-Bit said.

Johnny’s hand flared fire. Pony’s light pulsed in answer. Darry set his papers down like they weighed nothing.

And me? I grinned, even though my stomach twisted.

“Guess the vacation’s over,” I said.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Darry’s POV

The pager buzzed, and I knew before I even looked.

Vex.

Twenty years. Twenty years of building lives we couldn’t really keep, of pretending to be normal when the mirror said otherwise. And now, it was as if the last two decades had folded into nothing. We were right back in the fire.

The boys looked at me first. They always did. Pony with that quiet glow in his eyes, Johnny’s ash curling at his feet like smoke, Soda trying to grin through the tension. Steve’s hands twitched toward the nearest engine. Two-Bit looked like he wanted to laugh it off, and Dally, well, Dally looked like he was itching for round two.

I stood up slowly, pager in hand.

“Pack it up,” I said with a sigh. “SHIELD wants us back.”

The ride in was silent, except for Two-Bit cracking a joke about how pagers were already outdated. Nobody laughed, not even him.

SHIELD had changed in twenty years. New buildings, newer tech. Sleek walls, monitors buzzing with things we didn’t have words for back in ’67. Agents half our “age” passed us in the halls, giving us sideways looks. They knew who we were, or at least what we were. Legends. Ghost stories with files too redacted to read.

And then there she was.

Peggy Carter.

Older now, hair white, face lined with years. But still sharp. Still strong. The kind of presence that made rooms fall quiet. She walked in with a cane, but it didn’t slow her down one bit.

“Boys,” Peggy said, voice low and steady. “It’s been a long time.”

Soda stepped forward, his grin a little softer this time. “

Not for us, ma’am,” Soda said.

Peggy studied us, one by one. Her eyes lingered on Pony, on Johnny, on me. She’d been there when we were just kids, dragged into a war we didn’t ask for. Now we looked the same, and she carried twenty more years.

“You haven’t changed,” Peggy murmured. Not a question. A fact.

“We noticed,” Two-Bit piped up. “If you got the secret to making it look normal, we’re all ears.”

Peggy almost smiled, but her eyes were grave.

“Dr. Vex has resurfaced,” Peggy said. “We have intel that he’s reactivating Hydra cells across Berlin, Paris, and Moscow. He’s more dangerous than before, and his work with the cube hasn’t stopped.”

Johnny stiffened beside Pony, ash whispering off his shoulders. Pony reached out, steadying him with a touch, light flickering between them.

“What’s the plan?” I asked.

Peggy tapped her cane against the floor.

“First, we remind the world what SHIELD can do,” Peggy said. “And then… we stop Vex before he tears the world apart.”

Dugan entered next, older but no less gruff, shotgun strapped to his back.

“I swear, you punks look the same as the day I met you,” Dugan said. “Makes me sick. You'd better fight half as good as you look.”

Dally smirked.

“Better,” Dally said.

They laid it out on a holographic table, something straight outta Star Trek. Maps of Europe lit up, red circles spreading like an infection. Hydra cells, funding, weapons caches. And right in the middle: Vex.

Steve leaned forward, eyes scanning the designs.

“He’s moving machinery through East Berlin,” Steve said. “Some of it’s Stark-tech knockoffs.” His fingers twitched, and the projection flickered like it could feel him.

“Which means it’ll respond to you,” I said. “We use that.”

Two-Bit tossed a coin in the air.

“And me?” Two-Bit asked.

Peggy raised an eyebrow.

“Do exactly what you’ve always done,” Peggy said. “Distract, disorient, and pray your luck holds.”

Two-Bit grinned. “My favorite three words.”

Johnny stayed quiet, ash cloak shifting behind him. Soda finally broke the silence, flashing that lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. We’ve been waiting twenty years for this. Vex doesn’t stand a chance.”

Peggy’s gaze snapped to him.

“Don’t underestimate him,” Peggy said. “He hasn’t been idle.”

I crossed my arms.

“Neither have we,” I said.

The room went quiet.

I looked around at my brothers, my team. They weren’t the scared kids from Tulsa anymore. They weren’t even the raw recruits SHIELD had pulled out of 1940s chaos. They were men now. Stronger. Sharper. Still mine to protect.

I set my hands on the table, voice firm.

“We end this,” I said. “Once and for all.”

Peggy nodded, cane tapping once more.

“Then let’s get to work,” Peggy said.

Peggy and Dugan didn’t waste time after the briefing. Within the hour, they had us following a young SHIELD handler down a long corridor lined with reinforced doors. The air smelled of metal and ozone, machines humming deeper than you could see.

“Feels like déjà vu,” Steve muttered beside me. “Same as back in ’67. Except now the walls glow.”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit said, smirking, “back then they gave us hand-me-down leather and helmets. Now maybe I’ll finally get something with pockets.”

The handler keyed a panel, and the door slid open into a cavernous training hall. SHIELD had upgraded since the days of sandbags and punching dummies. Now holographic drones zipped through the air, mechanical turrets adjusted with AI precision, and sparring platforms shifted underfoot like shifting terrain.

Waiting for us inside was a row of gear racks. Modernized suits. Sleek, armored fabrics tailored for flexibility and durability, black with faint SHIELD insignias etched at the shoulders. Each one adjusted for our builds, our quirks.

Peggy’s voice came over the intercom.

“Gentlemen, it’s time to see if twenty years has dulled your edge or sharpened it,” Peggy said.

I stepped toward mine first. The material felt heavier than leather but lighter than steel, woven with fibers SHIELD called “impact-reactive.” It stretched but wouldn’t tear, and it carried the weight like it was meant for me.

Soda was already halfway into his, grinning at his reflection in a mirrored panel.

“Not bad, huh?” Soda said. “Think I look faster already.”

“You look like a track star on picture day,” Dally grunted, tugging his sleeves tight. His suit was reinforced heavier than ours, layered for heat absorption and kinetic storage. “If I’m taking hits, I want padding.”

Two-Bit slid his on and threw his arms wide.

“Stylish and bulletproof?” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “About time SHIELD figured out I’m worth the fabric.” He snapped his fingers, and a coin appeared between them like magic. “Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for chaos… in style.”

Johnny hung back a moment, staring at his suit. His was darker, fire-resistant plating lining the sleeves, ash-absorbent fibers woven in. He touched it like it might burn him.

“You okay, Johnnycake?” Soda asked, softer now.

Johnny nodded, pulling it on. The air shifted, a faint glow of embers already curling from his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Johnny said softly. “Just… don’t want to screw this up.”

Pony stepped beside him, already suited, his eyes faintly glowing.

“You won’t,” Pony said. “We’re in this together. Always.”

I strapped my gloves and checked the fit. The others looked sharp, older in spirit, younger in body. Veterans in the flesh of kids.

And for a second, I felt proud. We weren’t just greasers anymore. We were a team.

“Simulation One,” Dugan barked through the speakers. “Urban assault. Hostiles are Hydra-class drones. No quarter, boys, show us what twenty years bought you.”

The lights shifted. The hall transformed into a holographic Berlin street, gray buildings, neon signs, and smoke curling from alleys. Drones poured out, metal gleaming, eyes red.

“Let’s go,” I said, and the fight was on.

Soda was a blur, weaving through fire, smiling at drones that faltered mid-aim as his field bent their aggression.

“Gotta admit, still fun!” Soda shouted, ducking under a turret blast.

Steve lifted his hand, and half the drones froze midair, gears whining before snapping apart in pieces.

“They still build them with bolts,” Steve grumbled. “Big mistake.”

Two-Bit laughed as bullets sprayed toward him, each one somehow ricocheting harmlessly off metal signs.

“Oh, come on, you call this bad luck?” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “I’ve had worse hands at poker!”

Johnny’s ash cloak swept out, smothering a drone in cinders before flames consumed it whole. His face was grim, but his hands were steady.

“They burn easier than I thought,” Johnny said nervously.

Dally barreled through two at once, letting the blasts hit him full on. His skin lit faintly with absorbed energy, muscles flexing as he slammed a drone to scrap.

“Hit me harder, dammit!” Dally roared.

And Pony, he was the center. Light shields burst around him, deflecting beams, while waves of calm pulsed from his empathy, keeping Johnny steady, keeping Two-Bit’s chaos from tipping too far. His illusions flickered in the streets, confusing drones into firing on each other.

I ripped one drone off the ground, its metal snapping under my grip.

“You boys are reckless,” I shouted over the noise, “but you’re still mine to keep standing. Eyes up, shoulders tight, don’t lose formation!”

“Still lecturing us in the middle of a warzone,” Two-Bit cackled. “Never change, Darry!”

The drones went down one by one, our powers overlapping, complementing, filling gaps we didn’t even have to think about anymore.

When the last one collapsed in sparks, the Berlin street dissolved back to steel walls. The smell of ash and ozone lingered.

Peggy’s voice came through again.

“Well,” Peggy said. “I’d say the twenty years did you some good.”

“About damn time,” Dugan added. “You fight like a pack, not strays.”

I looked around at the boys, all breathing hard but grinning in their own ways. We weren’t kids anymore. We weren’t pretending.

“Gear up,” I said, standing tall. “Vex won’t wait for us to get comfortable.”

The boys nodded, the weight of the past twenty years finally settling on us like armor.

This wasn’t a second chance. This was the fight we’d been waiting for.

The simulation dissolved, leaving us in the steel-and-glass training hall. My knuckles were still tight from crushing that last drone, the sound of gears snapping ringing in my ears.

The boys were buzzing, adrenaline high, grins on their faces, powers still sparking around them. Twenty years hadn’t dulled us. If anything, it made us sharper. Stronger.

Peggy and Dugan came down from the observation deck, footsteps echoing. Peggy leaned on her cane, but her eyes burned as sharp as ever.

“You fight like you’ve been training every day of those twenty years,” Peggy said.

“Guess we kinda have,” Soda answered, slicking back his hair. “Life doesn’t exactly slow down for us.”

Dugan crossed his arms.

“Yeah, well, life’s about to speed up,” Dugan said. “Berlin’s a powder keg, and Vex is the spark. You boys’ll be the hammer.” He jabbed a finger at us. “Don’t forget that.”

We followed them into the armory, a vault stacked with more weapons and gadgets than any of us had ever seen. Rifles with sleek designs, gadgets that looked like they belonged in a comic book, and even jetpacks.

But what drew me were the custom rigs set aside just for us.

Steve’s had gauntlets designed to interface directly with any machine, Stark tech spinoffs, SHIELD enhancements. He ran a hand over them like a man greeting an old friend.

Two-Bit’s gear included throwing discs, weighted, balanced, and rigged to ricochet unpredictably. He palmed one, winked at us, and said, “Now my bad luck’s officially weaponized.”

Johnny’s had insulated plating layered through the sleeves, ash filters built into his gloves. He flexed his fingers, and a curl of flame lit the air.

“Guess SHIELD expects me to get messy,” Johnny said wearily.

Dally’s suit got heavier reinforcements, absorptive padding layered with kinetic conduits. He grinned sharply.

“Means I get to hit harder the more they hit me,” Dally said.

Soda’s was light, almost runner’s gear, with a mask that could obscure his grin when needed. He tugged it on and flashed that same grin anyway.

“Don’t worry, Darry,” Soda said. “I’ll still smile when I need to.”

Pony’s suit was something else. Lined with luminous thread that glowed faintly whenever his powers stirred, the armor was reinforced for shields but flexible enough for movement. He looked… older in it, even if his face hadn’t changed. More dangerous.

And me? Mine was built like a tank. Reinforced chest, bracers strong enough to block missiles, boots that could anchor me when the ground shook. I tested the weight, rolled my shoulders. It fit.
For the first time in twenty years, I felt like I wasn’t just holding the line, I was ready to lead into fire.

Later, in the barracks SHIELD had set aside for us, the adrenaline wore thin. The boys sprawled where they could, Soda tossing a ball at the ceiling, Two-Bit flipping cards, Steve sketching out plans on a pad, Johnny watching the glow of embers dance between his fingers.

Pony sat by the window, staring at the night. His glow faintly lit the glass.

“You’re thinking too hard,” I told him, leaning against the doorframe.

He glanced up, his eyes carrying that weight he always wore.

“I can feel it, Darry,” Pony said quietly. “Everyone’s nerves. Fear. Excitement. It’s… loud.”

I stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Block it out,” I said. “We’ll handle Vex together, same as always. You don’t have to carry all of it yourself.”

He nodded, but I could tell he didn’t believe me all the way. He never did.

Behind us, Two-Bit said, “So what’s the plan after we smash Vex this time? We retire? Open a bowling alley? Maybe I will finally run for office. Chaos Party 1988.”

The others laughed, even Johnny a little, and the room eased.

But I didn’t laugh. I just watched them. Soda, still restless but still smiling. Dally, pretending he wasn’t itching for violence. Steve, trying to build the future out of bolts and blueprints. Two-Bit, hiding fear under jokes. Johnny, still scarred but burning steady. And Pony, my kid brother, is glowing like a light trying to hold back the dark.

They were all mine to keep standing. And tomorrow, Berlin was going to test us like never before.

I clenched my fists, the weight of the suit heavy on my frame.

“Get some rest, boys,” I said finally. “Tomorrow, we remind Vex what happens when he messes with the Strays.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Two-Bit’s POV

They say Berlin in ’87 was gray. Concrete walls, gray skies, gray faces on either side of a line that split a city in half. And maybe that was true, except for the neon signs flickering against the gloom and the red Hydra banners Peggy said were cropping up in the shadows.

Me? I never liked gray. Too boring. So naturally, SHIELD drops the Strays into Berlin like a splash of paint on a blank wall.

We came in low, SHIELD jet whispering across the clouds. Darry stood like a statue at the hatch, arms crossed, jaw tight, classic big brother “don’t screw this up” pose. Soda bounced on his heels like the floor was too slow for him. Pony glowed faintly around the edges, like his powers couldn’t stay inside anymore. Johnny sat quietly, ash coiling at his boots, and Dally grinned sharply like a man who’d been waiting twenty years for a bar fight. Steve was already tinkering with a dismantled SHIELD drone like it was a puzzle.

And me? I was flipping a coin.

“Berlin,” I said, catching it and making it vanish with a sleight of hand. “City of history, secrets, and, most importantly, beer. Place a bet, boys: we finish this mission, first round’s on Hydra.”

“Two-Bit,” Darry warned, not even looking back.

“What?” I asked teasingly. “Too soon?”

The hatch opened, and the cold air hit us. Streets below, sharp angles of buildings, searchlights sweeping. We were ghosts in the dark. Well, except for Pony, who could literally glow if he sneezed wrong.

We hit the rooftops running, Soda literally running, the rest of us landing hard enough to shake gravel loose. Hydra patrols moved on the streets below, armored trucks rolling like they owned the place.

“Alright, Strays,” Darry’s voice rumbled in our comms. “Remember the plan. And use our code names to keep anonymity. Quiet entry, find Vex’s bunker, disable his tech, then we hit hard if we have to.”

“‘If’ we have to,” I repeated, grinning. “That’s adorable.”

We moved fast, rooftops to alleys, shadows to shadows. Every time I cracked a joke, about the guards’ bad mustaches, about how Hydra should invest in better boots, their patrols stumbled, tripped, or walked right into each other. Chaos probability, baby. Even I didn’t fully get how it worked, but boy, did it work.

Mindlight (Pony) whispered in my head; sometimes, he forgot he projected when he got tense. “Keep it down, Jokester. You’re rattling, Atlas (Darry).”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered under my breath, “somebody’s gotta keep this mission entertaining.”

We dropped into a courtyard crawling with Hydra drones. Not people, machines, spindly-legged, eyes glowing red.

“Guess they didn’t get the memo about staying quiet,” Reckless (Dally) said, rolling his shoulders.

“Then we improvise,” I shot back.

Pulse (Soda_ blurred, knocking two down before they could even turn. Breaker (Steve) raised his hand, and half the bots froze mid-step, gears grinding against his will. Mindlight (Pony) lit the whole place with a shield that shimmered like stained glass, deflecting the first volley of plasma fire.

Me? I strolled through the middle, whistling off-key.

“Hey, fellas!” I called. “Bet you weren’t programmed to deal with this.”

The bots’ aim faltered. One tripped over its own leg. Another spun in circles. Probability shifted, chaos spun, and suddenly Hydra’s army looked like slapstick comedy.
“Jokester (Two-Bit)!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

“Relax, big guy,” I called back, slipping under a wild laser beam. “I’m helping!”

And the truth was, I was. The more I joked, the more things went wrong for Hydra and right for us. Reckless (Dally) caught a shot to the chest, growled, and his fists glowed brighter as he slammed two drones into scrap. Ash’s flames ripped through the ash that he sent curling around the courtyard, blinding the machines before he burned them down.

Hydra didn’t stand a chance.

But it wasn’t the bots that worried me. It was the silence after. The sense that we were being watched.

Mindlight (Pony) stiffened, light flickering across his eyes.

“He’s here,” Mindlight (Pony) whispered.

Vex.

And that’s when the street below split open, machines rising like monsters from the sewers, and the real fight began.

The street cracked like an eggshell under a hammer, asphalt caving as iron claws ripped upward. Machines, bigger, meaner, nothing like the drones we’d shredded, rose from the sewers. Each one was a walking tank, Hydra insignia glowing across their metal hides.

“Well, ain’t that just dandy,” I muttered, flipping my coin. “We beat the appetizer, now here comes the entrée.”

Mindlight’s (Pony’s) glow flared brighter, his shield snapping into place just in time to block a cannon blast that would’ve roasted us all. The air vibrated with the force. He gritted his teeth, eyes burning with light.

“They’re stronger,” Mindlight (Pony) rasped. “But I can feel them; someone’s feeding them orders. Cold, calculated… It’s him.”

Dr. Vex.

Figures the old creep would be hiding behind his toys.

“Quit talking and start breaking!” Reckless roared, already charging one of the tanks. Plasma rounds slammed into his chest, but instead of dropping him, they juiced him up, his fists glowing hotter, his smirk nastier. He punched, and the machine folded like a soda can.

Ash’s (Johnny’s) cloak of ash whipped around him, a storm in human shape. Flames burst from his palms, searing the joints of another mech until the legs buckled. The ash hissed and swirled, blinding their sensors.

Meanwhile, Pulse (Soda) was everywhere at once, blurring across the battlefield, grinning at soldiers that stumbled as if hypnotized, their rifles lowering before he ripped the clips out.

“C’mon, fellas,” Pulse (Soda) laughed, “don’t you wanna dance instead?”

Breaker (Steve) raised his hands, and half the machines froze mid-stride, gears squealing against his will. One he yanked apart like it was a toy, screws pinging against the pavement.
“Hydra still thinks bolts and wires will save them?” Breaker (Steve) muttered. “Idiots.”

And Atlas (Darry)? My big brother figure ripped a cannon clean off one mech and swung it like a club into the next. The street shuddered under him, concrete breaking, his voice booming.

“Formation!” Atlas (Darry) yelled. “Watch your spacing!” he yelled, even while crushing steel. “Ash, cover Pulse’s flank! Mindlight, keep those shields up, don’t let ‘em slip!”

Typical Atlas (Darry), lecturing in the middle of an apocalypse.

Me? I strolled into the middle of it all, coin flipping lazily between my fingers.

“Alright, boys,” I called. “Let’s see how much bad luck Hydra can handle.”
I tossed the coin high. It glinted once, then the world tilted.

One mech misfired, blasting its buddy in the chest. Another stumbled on rubble that hadn’t been there a second ago. A Hydra soldier slipped, fell on the controls of his walker, and the damn thing toppled sideways into three more.

“Oops,” I called, grinning widely. “Somebody call the insurance man.”

Mindlight (Pony) shot me a look over his glowing shield.

“You’re bending probabilities again,” Mindlight (Pony) thought at me. “Careful.”

“Careful’s boring,” I shot back.

A beam screamed toward me, but ricocheted off a falling streetlamp and nailed the mech that fired it. The boys stared.

I bowed.

“See?” I said with a smirk. “Lady Luck and I, we’re on speaking terms.”

And then everything stopped.

Not literally, there was still fire, still smoke, still Ash’s ash storm swirling, but the machines froze mid-motion. A voice echoed through the wreckage, oily and smug.
“Twenty years,” it said, sharp with static. “And you still fight like children playing at heroes.”

A figure stepped from the shadows, a man in black armor threaded with veins of crimson light. His helmet was smooth, reflective, like glass hiding a skull.

Dr. Vex.

The weight of him hit like a punch. Mindlight (Pony) gasped, clutching his head.

“His mind, it’s like knives,” Mindlight (Pony) said in pain. “He’s… wrong.”

“About damn time,” Reckless (Dally) growled, fists still glowing. “Been waiting to put you in the ground.”

Vex raised one hand, and the machines stirred again, faster, more coordinated, red light burning brighter in their eyes.

“This city will burn,” Vex hissed. “And you Strays will be its kindling.”

I spat on the ground, flipped my coin, and grinned sharply.

“Funny thing about kindling, Doc, ash blows away on the wind,” I said. “And lucky for us, Ash’s got that covered.”

The fight was about to get ugly.

The second Vex showed himself, and it felt like Berlin froze. Not the city, the fight. Us. Him. The air between. Even Atlas (Darry), who could bulldoze through tanks without blinking, tightened his stance like he knew we weren’t dealing with just another Hydra tin can.

Vex raised one hand, and every busted mech lit up like Christmas. Some twisted their frames back into shape, joints popping, wires sparking back alive. Others fused together, becoming bigger, meaner versions of themselves.

“Well, ain’t that a neat party trick?” I said, flipping my coin. “Too bad you still look like Darth Vader’s less charming cousin.”

Atlas’s (Darry) glare burned a hole through me.

“Jokester- (Two-Bit)” Atlas (Darry) warned.

But my joke worked. Vex’s helmet tilted toward me, like I’d poked him in the ribs. And just like that, one of his bots tripped over rubble trying to get to me, smashing its buddy in the head. Chaos probability is doing its thing.

Reckless (Dally) roared, charging forward as plasma fire hammered him. Each hit only made him glow hotter, his punches louder.

“C’mon, Doc!” Reckless (Dally) called. “Hit me again! I like it!” He slammed a mech into the pavement so hard it cratered.

Pulse (Soda) blurred past, disarming soldiers Hydra hadn’t pulled out yet, flashing that grin that left them dazed and harmless.

“Relax, boys,” Pulse (Soda) said, voice honey-smooth. “No need to fight. Just take a nap.” They dropped like dominoes.

Breaker (Steve) locked onto the biggest mech and tore its chest plate apart with a flick of his hand, gears shrieking as they spun out of his control.

“Your toys aren’t yours anymore, Vex,” Breaker (Steve) muttered, sweat beading his brow.

Ash’s (Johnny’s) ash storm thickened, wrapping around the battlefield, turning Vex’s machines blind. Fire burst out of the haze in controlled arcs, ripping through circuits. His voice was low but steady.

“Ash to ash,” Ash (Johnny) murmured.

And Mindlight (Pony), my god, Mindlight (Pony) lit up. He projected a shield dome so bright it painted the ruins like stained glass. Every hit ricocheted. But more than that, I felt him; his power wasn’t just defense. He was inside us all, boosting courage, pushing back fear. His voice rang in my skull, clear as day.

“We can do this,” Mindlight (Pony) thought. “Together.”

For a second, I almost believed we couldn’t lose.

Then Vex stepped into the ash cloud, untouched by the fire. His armor pulsed with crimson veins; every strike we landed dissolved into sparks that crawled back into him.

“Pathetic,” Vex sneered, his voice vibrating through the comms. “Do you think chaos, light, fire, and luck can touch me? I bend probability. I consume energy. I weaponize your strength.”

A wave of crimson energy burst from him, slamming us back. Mindlight’s (Pony’s) shield cracked but held. Atlas anked the hit, teeth bared, while Pulse caught Ash before he hit the wall.

“Okay,” I coughed, dragging myself up. “Gotta admit, Doc, you’re tougher than you look. But you just made a mistake.”

Vex’s head tilted. “And what mistake is that?”

I flipped my coin, caught it, and grinned widely.

“You gave me more stuff to break,” I teased.

The coin glowed faintly in the firelight. I tossed it again, higher this time, and the whole fight shifted sideways. A mech stumbled into Vex’s energy wave. Another cannon backfired. One of his crimson surges ricocheted off Mindlight’s (Pony) cracked shield and slammed straight into Vex’s own soldier line.

Chaos probability wasn’t clean. Wasn’t neat. But it was ours.

“Strays!” Atlas (Darry) roared, swinging the cannon he’d ripped free. “Hit him hard while he’s off-balance!”

We all moved at once.

Ash’s (Johnny’s) flames seared the ground at Vex’s feet, ash pulling around his legs like chains. Breaker ripped open the joints on Vex’s machines, scattering gears like rain. Pulse (Soda’s) blurred through the battlefield, pulling wounded Hydra soldiers clear so they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire 'cause that’s Pulse (Soda) for you.

Reckless (Dally’s) barreled into the crimson wave, tanking the damage and glowing brighter than ever, fists swinging like meteors. Mindlight’s (Pony’s) shield pushed us forward, light bleeding into the cracks of Vex’s armor, straining him.

And me? I just kept laughing, cracking jokes, shifting fate inch by inch.

“C’mon, Vex!” I called mockingly. “Smile for once, you’ll live longer!”

He staggered under the chaos, armor flaring, sparks dripping from his gauntlets.

But he didn’t fall. Not yet.

He pointed straight at Mindlight (Pony), voice cutting sharply.

“Your light will break before mine,” Vex said.

And I swear, for one second, the glow around my kid brother flickered.

His words cut sharper than the crimson light bleeding off him.

“Your light will break before mine.”

And just like that, Mindlight’s (Pony’s) glow faltered. Only for a second, but in this fight, a second was an eternity.

I couldn’t let him see it. Couldn’t let Vex think he had us cornered. So I laughed. Loud, obnoxious, right in his face.

“Break his light?” I teased. “Buddy, you ever try to snuff out a sunrise? ’Cause lemme tell ya, no amount of creepy red glow is beating my kid brother’s shine.” I flipped my coin, let it spin in the burning air. “And besides, you’ve got the worst helmet design I’ve seen since Darth Vader. Who styled you?”

Vex’s crimson energy sputtered. He twitched, like I’d actually gotten under his skin. Perfect. Chaos probability nudged the field: one of his mechs stumbled and its cannon misfired, blasting another clean in the chest.

“Strays,” Atlas (Darry) barked, raising the cannon he’d ripped free, “push him back!”

We moved. Not as kids anymore. Not as screwups from Tulsa. As a unit.

Reckless (Dally) charged first, catching a crimson blast full-on. The energy knocked him to his knees for half a breath, then he grinned, eyes wild, power flaring hotter.

“That all you got?” Reckless (Dally) mocked. He swung, and the shockwave from his fist toppled a mech into two more.

Pulse (Soda) blurred behind him, a streak of motion weaving through fire and metal. His grin flashed like a weapon itself, and soldiers froze mid-step, aggression bleeding out of them.

“Why fight when you can chill, huh, boys?” Pulse (Soda) called. He pulled the ammo from their rifles before they even realized they’d dropped them.

Breaker (Steve) lifted his hands, eyes narrowing, and the biggest mech froze in mid-strike. Gears screeched, then ripped clean out of their sockets. He hurled the twisted mess into another squad, a storm of broken parts raining down.

“These toys are mine now, Vex,” Breaker (Steve) growled.

Ash (Johnny) rose next, fire spiraling from his hands. His cloak of ash wrapped Vex’s soldiers in a suffocating shroud, cutting sensors, choking barrels. A burst of fire licked across the battlefield, searing a path open.

“You’ll choke on your own machines before we choke on your empire,” Ash (Johnny) muttered.

Mindlight (Pony) braced in the center, shields flaring bright again. His voice pulsed in our heads, steady, strong.

“I’m not breaking,” Mindlight (Pony) thought. “Not tonight.”

The shield shoved us forward, crimson blasts bending around it, reflecting back into Hydra’s ranks.

And me? I kept laughing, kept talking, kept flipping that coin until probability bent so far it snapped. Blasts went wide. Tanks sputtered out. Vex’s armor flickered for just an instant.

“There!” I shouted. “He’s cracked!”

Atlas (Darry) didn’t waste a second. He charged, every step shaking the street. Vex threw up a crimson shield, looked just like Mindlight’s (Pony’s), only colder. Atlas (Darry) plowed straight through it, like it was paper. His fist connected with Vex’s chest, denting the armor with a sound like thunder.

Vex staggered back, crimson light sputtering.

“You think power makes you untouchable,” Atlas (Darry) growled, voice booming over the fire. “But strength means nothing without responsibility.”

Typical Atlas (Darry), lecturing while smashing a supervillain through a wall.

The combined weight of us, light, fire, steel, speed, chaos, and raw strength, pushed him down. His armor flared, then cracked again, sparks spitting from the seams.

“This isn’t over,” Vex hissed, voice twisting through his broken mask. “You can’t outrun inevitability. Chaos can’t save you.”

“Guess what?” I called, flipping my coin one last time. “Chaos just did.”

The coin landed, and right then, the ground beneath Vex buckled. A broken mech collapsed on top of him, smoke and fire swallowing the spot where he’d stood. When it cleared, he was gone.

Retreating in a shimmer of crimson energy, like smoke sucked into the night.

The street went quiet. Only the ash drifted, glowing faintly against the firelight.

Pulse (Soda) leaned against a busted wall, chest heaving. “Well,” he panted, flashing that grin, “I’d call that a win.”

Reckless (Dally) spat blood and smirked. “Wasn’t enough of a fight if you ask me.”

Breaker (Steve) wiped grease off his hands, muttering, “Machines that patch themselves? We’ve gotta study that tech.”

Ash just pulled his cloak tighter, quiet, fire fading from his hands.

And Mindlight (Pony) stood in the middle, glowing faintly, eyes tired but steady.

“We held him off. That’s what matters,” Mindlight muttered.

I pocketed my coin, grinning widely.

“Held him off?” I said. “Kid, we wrecked him. Jokester, Pulse, Breaker, Mindlight, Reckless, Atlas, Ash, The Strays forever. Berlin’s not forgetting tonight.”

Atlas gave me that look, you know the one, half proud, half ready to wring my neck.

“Don’t get cocky, Jokester (Two-Bit),” Atlas (Darry) warned. “He’ll be back. Stronger.”

“Yeah,” I said, smirk never fading, “and so will we.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Steve’s POV

The fight was over, but my hands were still shaking.

Not from fear, no, I’d burned through that years ago, but from the adrenaline. From the sound of gears tearing apart in my head, the hum of machines going dead under my control. It was like every engine in Berlin was whispering to me at once, and now that it was quiet, I didn’t know how to shut it out.

We got herded into a gutted building by SHIELD agents, a makeshift command post, wires snaking across the cracked floor, radios buzzing. Berlin smoldered outside, smoke curling through broken windows.

Peggy Carter stood waiting. Older now than when history books said she was supposed to be in her prime, but no less commanding. The cane at her side didn’t make her smaller. If anything, it made her seem steadier, like the city itself leaned on her. Beside her, Timothy Dugan, bigger, broader, with that same bulldog glare I’d seen in the Howling Commandos footage, crossed his arms, watching us like he was trying to measure if we were worth the trouble.

“Strays,” Peggy said, her voice cutting through the static. “Berlin stands because of you tonight. But victory isn’t the same as survival.” Her eyes swept over us, sharp, weighing. “Dr. Vex was testing you. Probing. And he learned something. The question is, did you?”

Darry straightened, shoulders square like always.

“We learned he’s dangerous, and he’s not stopping,” Darry said. “So we can’t, either.”

Peggy’s lips curved, not quite a smile.

“Correct,” Peggy said. “She turned her gaze on me then, like she’d plucked me out of the lineup. “And you, Breaker. You’ve been bending every machine on that battlefield. But machines break under stress. So do men. Do you know your limits?”

I swallowed, jaw tight.

“I’m figuring them out,” I said. “Sir, ma’am. The more complex the engine, the louder it gets. The bigger the strain. But I can hold it. As long as I’ve got the team.”

Dugan grunted, finally speaking.

“Long as you’ve got the team, huh?” Dugan said. “That’s good. ’Cause we’re not looking for lone heroes here. We’re looking for soldiers who can take orders and give them when it counts.” His eyes flicked to Two-Bit, who was flipping his coin again. “Even the loudmouths.”

“Hey,” Two-Bit said, grinning. “The loudmouth’s why we’re alive.”

“Luck ain’t a strategy,” Dugan shot back.

“Tell that to the coin,” Two-Bit quipped, flipping it higher. The coin spun, caught the light from Pony’s glow, and landed perfectly on its edge. Balanced. Nobody breathed for a second.

Dugan’s glare cracked, just a hair.

“...Huh,” Dugan said.

Johnny was quiet in the corner, a cloak of ash curling around him. The fire in his eyes hadn’t faded. He spoke low, but it cut through the room.

“Vex feeds on energy,” Johnny said. “He bends it. The more we hit him, the more he twists it. We can’t just throw ourselves at him. We’ve gotta think different.”

Peggy nodded.

“Exactly,” Peggy said. “Vex isn’t Hydra’s past. He’s its evolution. If you meet him again, and you will, you’ll need to adapt. You’ll need precision. You’ll need discipline.”

Her eyes lingered on Pony, whose glow was dim but steady.

“And you’ll need unity,” Peggy continued. “You are stronger together than any of you are apart. Remember that.”

Dugan pulled a file from his coat and slapped it on the table. Photos spilled across. Hydra bunkers, scientists, schematics, crimson circuitry that made my stomach knot.

“He’s moving fast,” Dugan said. “Intel says he’s fortifying in Eastern Europe, drawing power from stolen Stark prototypes. You’ll have a window to strike before he consolidates.”

Atlas (Darry) frowned. “And our cover? Our lives back home?”

Peggy’s gaze softened, just slightly.

“Handled. SHIELD will maintain your identities, your families, your records,” Peggy said. “Your lives won’t skip a beat, school, work, home. You’ll fight in the shadows so the world can stay in the light.”

Soda whistled low.

“So…,” Soda said. “We’re ghosts now.”

“Not ghosts,” Peggy said. “Guardians.”

I leaned forward, staring at the blueprints, machines humming in the back of my head like they were already mine. My voice came out steady.

“Then point us in the right direction,” I said. “Breaker’s ready.”

Peggy nodded once.

“Then suit up,” Peggy said. “You leave at dawn.”

The briefing ended with Peggy’s words echoing in the silence: “Then suit up. You leave at dawn.”

I’d thought after Berlin—after twenty years of training, hiding, and fighting in the shadows—we’d seen it all. But the moment we followed Dugan down into SHIELD’s new armory, I realized we were wrong.
The place was alive with hums, clicks, the heartbeat of machines. For me, it was like walking into a cathedral. Every gear whispered, every servo turned its face toward me, like they knew I was there.

“Welcome to the new century,” Dugan said, throwing open the doors. “Don’t break it all at once.”

“Can’t promise that,” I muttered, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he half-expected me to say it.

The briefing ended with Peggy’s words echoing in the silence: “Then suit up. You leave at dawn.”

I’d thought after Berlin, after twenty years of training, hiding, and fighting in the shadows, we’d seen it all. But the moment we followed Dugan down into SHIELD’s new armory, I realized we were wrong.
The place was alive with hums, clicks, the heartbeat of machines. For me, it was like walking into a cathedral. Every gear whispered, every servo turned its face toward me, like they knew I was there.
“Welcome to the new century,” Dugan said, throwing open the doors. “Don’t break it all at once.”

“Can’t promise that,” I muttered, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he half-expected me to say it.

Atlas (Darry) stepped forward first, naturally. The techs presented him with reinforced tactical armor, not bulky, but woven with alloys Stark himself would’ve drooled over. Flexible plates over his shoulders and chest, built to absorb missiles, flames, even kinetic blasts.

“Indestructible, huh?” Atlas (Darry) grunted, flexing his arm, the armor moving like a second skin.

“Close as science can get you,” Dugan said. “You’ll still have to duck sometimes.”

Atlas (Darry) snorted.

“Not my style,” Atlas (Darry) said.

Pulse (Soda) zipped in next, circling the racks like a kid in a candy store. They fitted him with boots lined with shock-absorption and micro-thrusters, amplifying every step, every sprint. His gloves were layered with sensors that could sync his reflexes with the battlefield.

Soda (Pulse) grinned wide enough to hypnotize the whole room.

“Man, I could run laps around Berlin in these,” Pulse (Soda) said. “Twice.”

“Just don’t forget to stop,” I said.

“Why would I stop? That’s your job, Breaker (Steve).”

Reckless (Dally) got something simpler: armored braces along his arms and chest, wired to channel kinetic energy more efficiently. Every punch he took would store in the braces, letting him release it in controlled blasts.

Reckless (Dally) slipped them on with a grin.

“Finally,” Reckless (Dally) said. “Something that makes my bad habits useful.”

“Your bad habits are gonna level half of Europe,” Atlas (Darry) muttered.

“Yeah, and?” Reckless (Dally) snapped back.

Ash’s (Johnny’s) upgrade looked like it was built for myth. A cloak laced with fibers resistant to heat and flame, woven with SHIELD polymers that bent like smoke but held like steel. It amplified his ash, let him extend it further, control it with finer precision.

Johnny (Ash)pulled it around his shoulders. Fire flickered in his eyes. For a moment, he didn’t look like the quiet kid from the lot. He looked like a phoenix, ready to burn the world clean.

Mindlight’s (Pony’s) new gear was different, lighter, sleeker. His armor shimmered faintly, woven with refractive fibers that bent light to his will. Built not to protect his body, but to amplify his illusions, to make his shields stronger, brighter.

Pony (Mindlight) flexed his hands, light spilling between his fingers. His eyes glowed, and I felt his emotions pulse through the room: hope, fear, determination. Stronger than ever.

“You’re not alone this time,” I told him. He nodded, steady, like he knew I meant it.

And Jokester (Two-Bit), well, nobody really knew what to give a guy who broke reality with bad jokes and lucky coin flips. They handed him a bandolier of SHIELD-mod gadgets, smoke bombs, flash charges, EMP pellets, and prayed the universe stayed on his side.

Two-Bit (Jokester) strapped it on, tossing a smoke bomb in the air and catching it.

“Guess I’m the trickster god of this circus,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said.

“You always were,” Pulse (Soda) said, smirking.

And then there was me.

They rolled out a new exo-frame, subtle but powerful. Bracers linked to my nerves, letting me channel my mechanical telekinesis through hardwired conduits. I could sync with engines faster, manipulate them from a distance with precision I hadn’t dreamed of.

I slid the bracers on, felt the pulse of every gear in the room sharpen, like the machines were standing at attention.

“Breaker (Steve),” Dugan said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Don’t fry the jets before you even take off.”

“No promises,” I muttered, but deep down, I swore I wouldn’t. Not this time.

We stood together in the center of the armory, seven kids from Tulsa who weren’t kids anymore. Atlas, Pulse, Reckless, Ash, Mindlight, Jokester, and me, Breaker.

Peggy entered again, cane tapping against the floor, eyes sharper than any of us. She looked us over like a general surveying her army.

“You’ve been given more than power. You’ve been given trust,” Peggy said. “Berlin was survival. What comes next will be war. Hydra believes Dr. Vex will lead them into a new age. Prove them wrong. Show them the Strays are more than shadows.”

Her gaze held mine last, and I straightened, hands steady now.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

When the lights dimmed and we boarded the SHIELD jet waiting outside, I sat by the window, the engines whispering to me like old friends. I could feel the tension in the team, the weight of what was ahead. But above it all, I felt something steadier.

We weren’t kids trying to survive anymore. We were soldiers. A family. A unit.

And if Vex thought Berlin was the worst we could throw at him, he hadn’t seen anything yet.

The jet purred under me, steady as a heartbeat. I didn’t even have to touch the controls to feel her, every rotor, every panel, every fuel line humming like a living thing. It grounded me, gave me something to focus on besides the war we were flying toward.

The others settled into the cabin, SHIELD agents keeping to the back, leaving us space. We weren’t soldiers in the traditional sense, not like Dugan’s commandos. We were something messier, harder to define. Family first. Soldiers second. But that didn’t make us weaker.

If anything, it made us sharper.

Atlas (Darry) sat across from me, helmet off, arms crossed, the weight of the whole team on his shoulders like usual. His new armor gleamed under the cabin lights. You’d think after twenty years he’d ease up, but he was still watching us, lecturing us in silence with just a look.

Pulse (Soda) was restless, vibrating like he’d run laps around the plane if we let him.

“So, what’s the bet?” Pulse (Soda) said, grinning. “How long ‘til I’m the one who saves all your butts this time?”

“Never,” Reckless (Dally) said flatly, leaning back with his arms behind his head. “You’re too busy runnin’ circles to actually finish the fight.”

“That’s rich, coming from the guy who uses his face as a punching bag,” Pulse (Soda) shot back.

Reckless (Dally) smirked.

“And every time, I get up stronger,” Reckless (Dally) said. “What do you do? Smile ‘em to death?”

That actually made a couple of the agents snort, but Pulse (Soda) just flashed the grin, his grin. I could feel the tension in the room lower, like his charm was leaking out, smoothing the edges even here.
Mindlight (Pony) was quiet, staring out the window. His glow flickered faintly, emotions rippling through the cabin. He didn’t have to speak; I felt the thrum of his doubt and his determination both. When he turned his head, his eyes locked with mine for just a second, and I gave him a nod.

“You’ll do fine,” I said.

Mindlight (Pony) blinked, surprised.

“How do you know?” Pony (Mindlight) asked.

I tapped my bracers.

“Same way I know when an engine’s gonna hold together,” I said. “I can feel it.”

That got him to smile, just a little.

Jokester (Two-Bit) leaned back in his seat, flipping his coin again like the world’s fate rested on a fifty-fifty toss.

“I say we’ll walk in, Hydra’ll trip over their own shoelaces, and we’ll be home before lunch,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said.
Atlas (Darry) groaned.

“That’s not how strategy works,” Atlas (Darry) said.

“Maybe not for you, big guy, but for me?” Jokester (Two-Bit) said lightly. “It’s a lifestyle.” He flicked the coin. It spun high, landed in his palm. Heads. He winked. “See? Already winning.”

Ash (Johnny) sat separately, a cloak of smoke curling faintly around him even though the cabin was sealed. His eyes burned low, like coals that never went out. He finally spoke, his voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the chatter.

“Hydra doesn’t just trip,” Ash (Johnny) said. “They plan. Vex is planning something bigger. He wouldn’t bait us to Berlin unless he was ready for what came next.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Even Jokester (Two-Bit) stopped flipping his coin.

Atlas (Darry) leaned forward.

“Then we’re ready too,” Atlas (Darry) said darkly. His eyes swept us all, the weight of the promise binding us. “No half-measures this time. We hit hard. We end it.”

Peggy’s voice crackled through the comms, steady even across the Atlantic.

“Strays, your target is a Hydra fortress hidden in the Carpathians,” Peggy said. “Intelligence suggests Vex is consolidating stolen Stark tech and experimenting on enhanced operatives. Expect resistance. Expect traps. But above all, expect him.”

I closed my eyes, felt the machine under me steady, her engines bracing for war. The others straightened, tension sharpening into readiness.

“Breaker (Steve)?” Atlas (Darry) asked, eyes on me.

I opened my eyes, flexed my hands, the bracers alive with power. The jet whispered to me, the machines ahead whispered too, distant, faint, but calling.

“I’ve got the engines,” I said. My voice didn’t shake. “Let’s break his toys.”

Pulse (Soda) leaned forward, grin sharp.

“Then let’s show Hydra what the Strays can do,” Pulse (Soda) said with a grin.

The cabin went quiet, heavy with purpose. Even Jokester’s (Two-Bit’s) smirk felt steadier now, less of a joke and more of a dare to the universe.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like a greaser kid playing soldier. I felt like what Peggy called us.

Not ghosts. Not strays.

Guardians.

And God help Hydra if they didn’t believe it yet.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20

Dally’s POV

The jet cut low through the Carpathian peaks, the fortress ahead like a scar on the mountainside, metal and stone woven together, Hydra’s ugly stamp on history. My fists itched. My veins buzzed. The closer we got, the more I wanted to throw myself straight through their front gate and watch the pieces fly.

Atlas (Darry) stood at the hatch, helmet tucked under his arm, barking last-minute strategy.

“We move as a unit,” Atlas (Darry) said. “Pulse (Soda), you scout. Breaker (Steve), disable their defenses. Mindlight (Pony), you keep a shield up. Ash (Johnny), cover the rear with fire. Jokester (Two-Bit), you’ll be a distraction.”

“And me?” I asked, leaning back in my seat, smirking.

Atlas (Darry) looked at me like I’d just asked the dumbest question on earth.

“You take the hits,” Atlas (Darry) said. “Like always.”

Damn right.

The hatch blew open, mountain air slicing cold across my face. Pulse (Soda) blurred past first, a streak of silver and charm, agents not even raising their rifles before his hypnotic grin dropped them like they’d just remembered better things to do. Breaker’s (Steve) bracers lit up next, whole watchtowers sparking as he yanked gears from their guts. Jokester (Two-Bit) smirked and tossed his coin in the air, and started his illusions and tricks.

Me? I went straight down the middle.

The second my boots hit the dirt, bullets shredded the ground around me. The first impact punched into my shoulder, hot, sharp, but then the fire spread, feeding the beast under my skin. By the time the second and third rounds slammed in, my whole body was glowing with that charged-up hum, strength rolling through me.

I grinned, teeth bared.

“That all you got?” I sneered.

I barreled forward, tearing through their line. Rifles cracked against me, clubs bounced. Every hit just made me stronger. One poor bastard swung a pipe; I caught it in my hand, bent it like tinfoil, and knocked him cold with the same swing.

Mindlight’s (Pony) shield flared beside me, soaking up a rocket blast that would’ve shredded us. He staggered, clutching his head, but the barrier held. I grabbed him by the arm and shoved him behind me.

“Stay back, kid,” I growled. “I’ll take point.”

“You can’t take everything,” Mindlight (Pony) snapped. His glow pulsed brighter, stubborn as hell.

“Watch me,” I said.

Behind us, Jokester’s (Two-Bit) laughter cut through the chaos.

“Hey fellas!” Jokester (Two-Bit) called. “Did you know Hydra stands for How You Die Real Awful?”

The trooper aiming at him actually tripped backward, gun jamming in his hands as if the universe itself couldn’t resist Two-Bit’s lousy timing.

Breaker (Steve) stormed in, gears flying around him like shrapnel. He ripped open a steel door with just a thought, sparks raining. Pulse (Soda) darted through before the dust settled, moving faster than I could track. Screams echoed inside, then silence.

Ash (Johnny) followed last, cloak flaring like a demon’s wing. Fire roared from his palms, sealing the halls behind us in blackened steel and smoke. His eyes burned, distant and hard.

The fortress stank of oil, blood, and experiments. Cells lined the hall, smashed glass and broken restraints scattered. Vex’s fingerprints were all over it, machines half-finished, wires humming like nerves exposed.

Atlas (Darry) moved up front again, voice steady.

“Stay sharp,” Atlas (Darry) said. “This isn’t a base, it’s a lab. And we’re in his maze now.”

Didn’t matter to me. Maze, fortress, lab, it all broke the same when you hit it hard enough.

I cracked my knuckles, heat thrumming through my bones. If Vex was down here, I’d find him. And this time?

This time, I wasn’t just taking hits. I was giving ‘em back.

We pushed deeper into the fortress, boots crunching glass and metal. Every step felt like Hydra’s eyes were on us. I could taste the electricity in the air, sharp and sour, like a storm ready to split the sky.

That’s when the doors ahead slammed open.

Out walked four figures - humanoid, but wrong. Too stiff, too perfect. Vex’s little pets, stitched together with steel and glowing veins of blue cube energy. Their eyes burned the same way his glove did.

Atlas (Darry) squared his shoulders, holding us back with one arm.

“Strays,” Atlas (Darry) said. “Enhanced. Move smart-”

“Or we move hard,” I cut in, stepping forward with a grin. “This one’s mine.”

The first Hydra brute charged, swinging a metal arm the size of a tree trunk. It hit me square in the chest, throwing me across the hall, smashing through a wall of equipment. Pain detonated across my ribs. My grin only widened.

I stood, rolling my shoulders. The hum under my skin roared alive, fire in my veins.

“That all you got, pal?” I sneered.

I charged back, every hit he landed feeding me. His fists cracked across my jaw, rattled my bones - by the time I hit him back, I was lit up like dynamite. My punch caved in his chest plate, sparks flying. He dropped hard, smoke pouring from his mouth.

Behind me, chaos unfolded.

Breaker (Steve) lifted his hands, and the gears in the other brutes’ joints screeched, locking up.

“Got ‘em -” Breaker (Steve) growled, veins standing out from the strain.

But one brute broke free, hurling a chunk of wall at him.

“Not today!” Jokester (Two-Bit) cackled, tossing his helmet like a Frisbee. The brute slipped on a wire that wasn’t there, falling flat on its back. Two-Bit winked. “Guess Hydra didn’t account for bad luck insurance.”

Pulse (Soda) zipped in, snatching a rifle out of another’s hand before the guy even blinked. His smile flashed, disarming.

“You don’t really wanna shoot me, do ya?” Pulse (Soda) teased. The operative hesitated long enough for Ash (Johnny) to drown him in flame, his ash cloak twisting like wings around his shoulders.

Mindlight’s (Pony) glow filled the room, a shield of searing white holding back a rain of bullets from above. I felt his mind brush against mine, steady and stubborn. “Stay angry, Dally. Just don’t lose yourself.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, kid,” I muttered, even though I needed it.

The last brute roared and came for Atlas (Darry). Darry didn’t flinch; he caught the thing’s punch with one hand and twisted, muscles straining like steel cables.

“You think you’re strong?” Atlas (Darry) barked, his voice like thunder. “You’ve got no idea.”

He drove the brute straight into the floor, stone cracking under the impact.

I wiped blood from my mouth, laughing.

“Well, that’s one way to redecorate,” I said.

But before we could catch our breath, a slow clap echoed through the chamber.

Dr. Vex stepped out from the shadows, his glove glowing, his smile sharp as glass.

“Bravo. Hydra couldn’t ask for a better demonstration,” Vex sneered. “You’re everything I hoped you’d be.” His eyes lingered on me, then Pony, then Johnny. “And so much more dangerous than you realize.”

Every nerve in me screamed to rush him. To let him hit me, break me, feed me until I could break him in half.

But Atlas’s (Darry) arm shot out across my chest.

“Not yet, Reckless (Dally),” Atlas (Darry) warned. “We do this together.”

And for once, I didn’t argue.

Vex’s glow cut across the chamber like a blade, his glove humming louder with every gesture. Energy crackled in the air, raw and unstable. He grinned at us like he had already won.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” Vex said, voice echoing. “Potential. Weapons shaped by fate. And weapons-” he raised his hand, the glove’s glow swelling into a sphere of pure energy “are meant to be wielded.”

He hurled it.

Atlas shoved me aside and took the hit. The blast shook the floor, smoke curling around him. But Darry (Atlas) stood in the crater, fists clenched, not even swaying.
“You’re gonna need more than that,” Darry (Atlas) growled.

“Gladly,” Vex snarled, charging another strike.

“Breaker (Steve), now!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

Steve (Breaker) spread his arms wide, gears and metal screaming in answer. The whole chamber groaned as Vex’s own tech, his glove, his belt, the wires feeding the cube’s stolen power shuddered against his control.

“Got it, hold him,” Breaker (Steve) said.

Vex strained, fighting him, the glove sparking violently.

That was my cue.

“Hit me, you son of a-!” I roared, charging into Vex’s energy burst. The glove’s strike slammed into my chest, pain tearing through me, then igniting into fire. My veins burned, muscles bulging, the raw energy feeding me like gasoline to a blaze. I laughed through gritted teeth.

“Now you’re in trouble,” I snarled.

Pulse (Soda) blurred past me, hands snatching Hydra rifles and tossing them into a heap.

“Disarm them, disarm him,” Soda (Pulse) muttered, flashing that smile. Vex’s nearby guards faltered, lowering their weapons under the pull of Soda’s (Pulse) charm before Johnny’s (Ash) flames swallowed them in a storm of fire and ash.

Ash (Johnny) spread his cloak wide, embers glowing in his eyes.

“Stay down,” Ash (Johnny) rasped, fire curling around his arms.

Meanwhile, Jokester strutted forward, twirling a pistol he’d “borrowed” off a guard. “Hey Vex! Y’know what your problem is?” he called. “You put all your eggs in one shiny glove basket!”

Vex snarled and tripped. Right into the path of Atlas’s (Darry) punch.

The crack echoed through the chamber as Darry’s fist connected, sending Vex sprawling.

But he wasn’t down yet. The glove sparked, overloading, cube-light spilling into the room. He staggered up, eyes wild.

“If I can’t control you, I’ll erase you!” Vex screamed.

Mindlight (Pony) stepped forward, his eyes glowing white. The light poured out of him, brighter than I’d ever seen, washing over us in a shield of pure emotion, courage, unity, and stubborn hope. My fists clenched tighter, my chest steadied. Pony’s voice whispered in all our heads at once: Together.

Vex screamed and unleashed the glove’s full force.

Atlas (Darry) anchored himself, absorbing the brunt. Breaker (Steve) wrenched the glove’s gears against themselves, sparks flying. Jokester’s (Two-Bit) laugh echoed, reality itself flickering, Vex’s aim faltered. Pulse (Soda) blurred in and struck his wrist, knocking it askew. Ash’s (Johnny) flames surged, wrapping the glove in fire. And I, charged with every hit, every ounce of pain, slammed both fists into Vex’s chest.

The glove shattered. Energy erupted, shaking the whole base. Vex shrieked as the cube’s stolen light tore through him, consuming his body in a brilliant flash.
When it cleared, all that was left was smoke and a charred crater where Dr. Vex had stood.

We were all breathing heavy, battered but alive.

Jokester (Two-Bit) finally broke the silence.

“Well,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, hands on his hips, “anybody else think we should keep that glove as a nightlight?”

Pulse (Soda) snorted, shoving him lightly.

“Shut up, Jokester,” Pulse (Soda) teased.

Atlas (Darry) looked at the empty crater, jaw tight.

“It’s over,” he said, steady as stone. “Once and for all.”

But Pony (Mindlight) still stared at the smoke, his glow dimming.

“No,” Mindlight (Pony) whispered. “It’s never over. Not for us.”

And the way his voice shook… made me wonder if he was right.

The Quinjet ride back was dead quiet. Not the good kind of quiet, either. The kind where everybody’s got their own ghosts rattling around.

Darry sat across from me, arms folded like a damn statue, his eyes locked somewhere way past the metal walls. Pony leaned against his shoulder, eyes closed, the glow burned out of him. Steve was tinkering with some busted Hydra tech, hands moving like he had to do something or lose his mind. Two-Bit hummed some stupid Bugs Bunny tune, but even his jokes sounded hollow. Soda drummed his fingers on his knee, jittery from too much speed and adrenaline. Johnny sat nearest the hatch, flames flickering under his skin, his face unreadable in the dark.

Me? I was still buzzing. My veins thrummed with leftover energy, and every time I flexed my fists, I wanted to hit something again. Vex was ash in the wind, but it didn’t feel like enough. Not for twenty damn years of fighting his shadow.

The Quinjet landed on the SHIELD strip with that familiar hiss of hydraulics. No cheers, no welcome, just floodlights and Peggy Carter waiting with that steely expression that could cut you to ribbons. Dugan was with her, arms crossed, his bowler hat tilted like he was watching a firing squad.

We filed out, one by one. Carter’s eyes swept over us like she was counting heads. Making sure she hadn’t lost another team.

“Dally,” Peggy said when her gaze landed on me. Not a compliment. Not an insult. Just sharp, like she knew exactly how close I’d come to going too far.

“Peg,” I muttered, shoving my hands in my jacket. “Good to see you too.”

“Inside,” she snapped.

The debrief room was colder than the battlefield. Long table, metal walls, one-way mirror. SHIELD agents lined the corners, silent, while Carter and Dugan sat at the head like judge and jury.

Darry sat up straight, shoulders squared, every inch the soldier he pretends he ain’t. Pony sat beside him, pale but steady. I sprawled in my chair, ankle on my knee, just to get under their skin. Two-Bit kept grinning like he was hiding cards up his sleeve. Steve laid the scrap of Hydra tech on the table like evidence. Soda tried to smile, but even his charm field couldn’t soften Carter’s face tonight. Johnny kept his head down, shadows of flame twitching along his sleeve.

Peggy finally spoke.

“Doctor Vex is gone,” Peggy said in a matter-of-fact tone.

No one said a word. We all knew it. We all saw it.

She leaned forward, her voice lowering.

“You ended a Hydra operation that has spanned decades,” Peggy said. “That is no small feat. But-” her eyes cut to me - “your methods were… excessive.”

I let out a bark of a laugh.

“Lady, he nearly fried half of Europe,” I said. “Forgive me for not playin’ nice.”

Dugan slammed a hand on the table.

“You think this is a game, boy?” Dugan snarled. “We put our trust in you, The Strays, and every damn time you walk away like you’re invincible.”

Darry’s jaw clenched, but his voice was steady.

“We walked away because we’re good at what we do,” Darry said tersely. “Because we had each other’s backs.”

Soda leaned forward, his voice softer.

“We didn’t just win, ma’am,” Soda said. “We survived. And we’ve been doing that since long before SHIELD found us.”

Peggy’s eyes softened a fraction at that. Just a fraction.

“Perhaps,” Peggy said slowly. “But survival isn’t victory unless you learn from it. The world is changing, gentlemen. You cannot keep hiding behind street instincts and luck.”

“Hey,” Two-Bit piped up, smirking, “don’t knock luck. It’s got us this far.”

That earned a glare sharp enough to pin him to the wall.

Peggy straightened. “The Strays are disbanded effective immediately. Until further notice, you are civilians again. SHIELD will decide what comes next.”

The silence after that was heavier than any battle.

I shot up from my chair, fists curling.

“What the hell do you mean by ‘disbanded’?” I shouted. “After everything we did, everything we lost-”

“Sit down, Dally,” Darry muttered, voice low but firm.

“No,” I said. My chair screeched across the floor. “We bled for this. We burned for this. And now we’re just supposed to walk away?”

Peggy’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Yes,” Peggy deadpanned. “Until the world needs you again.”

For a second, I thought I’d explode. The energy in my chest was still alive, begging for a fight. But then I caught Pony’s eyes. His glow was faint, but steady, like he was pushing calm into me without saying a word.

I sat down hard, scowling at the floor.

Carter nodded once.

“Good,” Peggy said. “Rest. Live your lives. Because when the time comes, and it will come, we will call you. And you had better be ready.”

Her words hung in the air like a promise and a threat all at once.

And for the first time since Vex turned to ash, I realized this fight wasn’t really over. Not for us. Not ever.

Chapter Text

Chapter 21

Johnny’s POV

Eight years passed like smoke curling through my fingers, slow, fast, all at once.

When Peggy shut us down in ’87, it felt like losing a war we’d already won. One minute we were heroes, the next… nobodies. SHIELD ghosts.

I thought maybe that was fine. Thought maybe I could live quietly. But fire doesn’t go quiet. Not really.

In 1988, Tulsa…

We stayed close. Couldn’t help it. You don’t walk through hell together and then just walk away.

Darry went back to construction. Big contracts now. Bridges, towers. He wore a hard hat instead of SHIELD armor, but he carried himself like he was still on the battlefield. Guys respected him. He taught safety lectures that sounded like Captain America himself had written them.

“Rebar doesn’t bend for carelessness,” I heard him scold one rookie. “You cut corners, you’re asking gravity to finish the job for you.”

Same Darry. Always teaching. Always be shouldering more than his share.

Soda got restless. He modeled for a bit, no joke. His grin sold car commercials, his speed kept him sharp on the side. He’d vanish for weeks, come back with stories of coastlines and women, and still somehow sit cross-legged on the Curtis porch and make you feel like the only person in the world.

Pony went deep into writing. College classes again. Journalism, literature, philosophy. He wrote about things no one else could see: human connection, emotion, the threads tying us together. I read one of his essays once. Nearly burned it after. It felt like he’d cracked open my chest and written down the smoke inside.

Two-Bit tried being a stand-up comedian. Swear to God. Clubs in Dallas, Chicago. Half the time, his powers bent the room into chaos, drunk hecklers tripping over their own chairs, mics shorting out. He ate it up. But I think he was running from something, too. We all were.

Steve went mechanical. Full-time. Built engines, restored cars, and messed around with early computer systems. I’d catch him staring at machines too long, like he could feel their heartbeat. Maybe he could.

Dally fought his own battles. Bar fights, mostly. He didn’t say it, but I knew. Every bruise, every swing, he was chasing that power high. The one that only came when the world was trying to break him and couldn’t.

Me? I worked in a garage. Flames licked at my skin sometimes, the ash coiling under my nails. I pretended it was enough. Pretended the fire didn’t want more.

1990 - Christmas Eve.

We were all back in Tulsa. Snow thick on the streets. Soda lit the tree with one grin, Pony read a poem that left the room too quiet, and Two-Bit spiked the eggnog so hard Darry nearly threw him through the window.

I stepped out onto the porch, watching ash drift from the cigarette I couldn’t bring myself to light. Dally joined me, bruised knuckles stuffed in his pockets.

“Feels fake, don’t it?” Dally muttered.

I nodded.

“Like we’re wearing lives that don’t fit,” I said quietly.

He spat into the snow. “

We were made for the fight, Johnny,” Dally snarled. “That’s the truth. It doesn’t matter how many Christmas trees or college diplomas we pile up. Fights’ the only thing that sticks.”
His words burned, because I knew he was right.

1992…

That’s when we first felt it.

Not a battle. Not Hydra. Something else.

Pony was the first to say it out loud. We were all out back one night, beer cans, laughter, the usual, and he went still.

“You feel that?” Pony asked. His eyes glowed faintly, a shimmer of gold.

We all did. The air had weight, like static before a storm. My flames sputtered to life without me meaning to.

Steve said the engines in his garage were humming without power. Soda couldn’t sit still, jittery like lightning in his veins. Two-Bit kept cracking jokes that made no sense even to him. Dally punched a brick wall just to bleed off the edge. Darry tightened his jaw, like he was bracing for something big.

And me? The fire whispered, something’s coming.

The years crawled, but the feeling never left. Every time the sky shifted, every time thunder rolled strangely, I swore the world was changing and we were just waiting.

Then one night, it came.

We were at Steve’s garage, a lazy evening, Jokester making fun of Darry’s “dad lectures,” Soda flipping cards faster than my eyes could follow, Pony lost in a notebook. I was leaning back, letting embers curl through my fingers when the beeper on the counter buzzed.

Not Peggy. Not Dugan.

The name glowed: Nick Fury.

We froze. Soda picked it up, brows furrowed.

“Who the hell’s Nick Fury?” Soda asked in confusion.

Darry’s voice rumbled low.

“If he’s got SHIELD codes, he’s someone who matters,” Darry said sternly.

Pony swallowed.

“And if SHIELD’s calling us again… it means whatever’s coming is bigger than Vex ever was,” Pony said nervously.

I stared at the name on the screen, the fire in my chest answering it like a beacon. Eight years of smoke and waiting.

“Guess we’re back in the game,” I said, my voice rough.

And somewhere above us, in skies we didn’t yet understand, the storm was finally breaking.

The pager buzzed like a heartbeat none of us could ignore. Eight years out of the fight, and here it was again.

We didn’t wait for SHIELD to send a car; we drove. Steve was behind the wheel, his power humming through the engine like it was an extension of himself. Darry sat shotgun, scanning the horizon like the roads themselves were another battlefield. The rest of us filled the back, tense and too quiet, the kind of silence that comes before a storm.

We pulled up to the SHIELD safehouse, a squat concrete bunker outside Oklahoma City. Not Peggy. Not Dugan. A new name, a new call.

And waiting by the door was a man we’d never seen before. Black leather jacket, sharp eyes that missed nothing, and a presence that made even Darry straighten like he was back in boot camp.
“Strays,” he said, voice smooth, low. “Name’s Nick Fury. Deputy Director of SHIELD.”

Soda broke the silence first, flashing that grin of his.

“Deputy Director, huh? Does that mean Peggy finally took a vacation?”

Fury didn’t smile.

“Peggy Carter retired,” Fury said matter-of-factly. “Howard Stark’s dead. Dugan’s off the board. I’m what you’ve got now.”

That shut us up. Even Two-Bit didn’t joke.

Fury’s gaze moved across us like he was measuring weight, not height. His eyes lingered on Dally’s scarred knuckles, on the faint glow in Pony's eyes, on the ash curling at my fingertips.

“You don’t look like much,” Fury finally said. “But SHIELD’s old guard swore by you. Said you saved their asses more times than they could count. So here’s the deal: something big just landed. Out of the sky. Doesn’t belong to Earth. And I don’t like the feel of it.”

The room shifted. I felt the fire in me answering like it recognized the threat. Pony winced beside me, his voice tight.

“He’s not lying,” Pony murmured. “He believes what he’s saying, fear, curiosity, and determination. He’s… different. But he means it.”

Fury arched an eyebrow at Pony.

“Telepath, huh?” Fury said. “That’ll be useful. If you’re done reading my mind, maybe you’d all like to hear the briefing.”

Darry leaned forward, voice steady but carrying that warning edge.

“If you’re bringing us back in, you’d better understand, we don’t half-step,” Darry said cautiously. “You’re asking us to fight, we’re all in.”

Fury didn’t flinch.

“Good,” Fury said. “Because this isn’t just another Hydra splinter cell. We’ve got alien tech on the ground. Beings walking among us who can change their faces like pulling a mask off. They’re called Skrulls.”

Steve let out a low whistle.

“Aliens, huh?” Steve said, shaking his head. “Knew those weird hums in my machines weren’t just my imagination.”

“Shapeshifters,” Two-Bit said, eyes wide. “That’s cheating. How am I supposed to know who to flirt with now?”

Fury ignored him, sliding a folder across the table. Inside: grainy photos, wreckage, and a woman in a strange green-and-black uniform, mid-battle stance.

“She calls herself Vers. Crashed in L.A.,” Fury said. “Claims she’s Kree, a different kind of alien. Says the Skrulls are hunting her. And from what I’ve seen? She’s more powerful than anything I’ve ever put eyes on. We need to figure out if she’s friend or foe.”

Soda leaned back in his chair, smile fading.

“And you want us to babysit the alien,” Soda said.

“I want you to figure out what the hell she is before she burns half the planet down,” Fury corrected. His voice was steel now. “You all say you’re ready for the fight? Congratulations. You’re back on the roster. Codenames and all.”

The fire coiled inside me, hotter than it had been in years. I looked at the others: Soda, Pony, Darry, Steve, Two-Bit, and Dally. My family.

“Name’s Ash,” I said, letting sparks flicker across my palm. “And if the sky’s falling, we’ll be there to catch it.”

For the first time, I saw the faintest crack in Fury’s expression. Not fear. No doubt. But respect.

“Good,” Fury said, tucking the folder under his arm. “Then suit up, Strays. You’re about to meet Captain Marvel.”

And just like that, the fire was back.

The first thing I noticed about her wasn’t the uniform or the glow in her fists. It was the way the air itself bent around her, charged, restless, like standing too close to a lightning storm.

Carol Danvers. Or Vers. Or whatever she was calling herself then.

We found her in the wreckage of an old Blockbuster store, neon signs busted and VHS tapes scattered like confetti from a dead decade. Fury led the way in, calm as ever, but I could feel the fire under my skin tightening. My instincts said danger.

She spun before we even spoke, fist blazing with raw cosmic light.

“Stay back!” Carol barked, stance wide, ready to unleash hell.

Atlas (Darry) took the lead, solid as always, holding his hands out.

“Easy, soldier,” Atlas (Darry) said wearily. “We’re not your enemy.”

“Funny,” Carol shot back, eyes narrowed, “you sound exactly like one.”

That was my cue to flare. I let ash drift from my palms, spreading across the floor, dimming the broken fluorescents overhead until the whole store looked like it was breathing smoke. Not attacking, just showing her she wasn’t the only one packing heat.

“Name’s Ash,” I said, voice low. “We’re here on SHIELD’s call. You torch this place, and we’ll all be breathing melted plastic. So how about we talk first?”

Carol’s gaze cut through me like a blade, suspicion hardening her every move. That’s when Mindlight (Pony) stepped forward, his eyes glowing soft gold.

“She doesn’t trust us,” Mindlight (Pony) whispered, his voice carrying that empathic edge that made it impossible to ignore. “Fear, anger, confusion… but under it, she’s lost. She doesn’t even know who she really is.”

Carol’s head snapped toward him, her hand crackling brighter.

“Stay,” Carol scowled. “Out. Of. My. Head.”

“Trust me,” Mindlight (Pony) said quietly, “I wish I could. But it’s leaking out of you like wildfire.”

Pulse (Soda), ever the charmer, stepped in smooth as silk. He leaned on a busted movie stand, flashing that smile that could calm riots.

“Hey, nobody here’s lookin’ to make you an enemy,” Pulse (Soda) said smoothly. “You wanna blast something, we’ll point you toward the Skrulls. But me? I’d rather not get my hair fried tonight, sweetheart.”

For a second, I swear, I saw the corner of her mouth twitch. Almost a smile. Then she caught herself and hardened again.

Breaker (Steve) decided to play backup. He lifted his hand, and the gutted Blockbuster’s neon sign rattled, flickering back to life in a shower of sparks.

“See?” Steve grumbled. “We got tricks too. You’re not alone in this fight.”

Jokester (Two-Bit), predictably, ruined the seriousness of the moment. He picked up a VHS tape, “The Little Mermaid”, and waved it around.

“So, uh… we teaming up with Blockbuster Barbie, or what?” Two-Bit asked with a smirk.

Carol glared at him.

“Who the hell are you people?” Carol asked skeptically.

Atlas (Darry) squared his shoulders, speaking with the weight of all of us.

“We’re the Strays,” Atlas (Darry) said stonily. “You don’t have to like us, you don’t even have to trust us. But SHIELD sent us here because if the Skrulls are your problem, they’re our problem too.”

Carol hesitated. Her fists dimmed, the light fading into her skin. She looked at Fury, who hadn’t said a word since walking in, just watching the chessboard move.

“You vouch for them?” Carol asked, finally.

Fury gave a slow nod.

“They’re a pain in the ass,” Fury said. “But when the world’s on fire, you want the Strays in the fight.”

I clenched my fists, feeling the heat burn brighter. She wasn’t convinced yet, not fully. But she wasn’t trying to kill us anymore, and in my book, that was progress.
Carol exhaled, stepping back, still wary but not hostile.

“Fine,” Carol said reluctantly. “But if any of you try anything-”

Reckless (Dally) cut her off, cracking his knuckles, energy humming around him.

“Lady, you’ll wish we did,” Reckless (Dally) said with a scowl.

I smirked, letting ash swirl back into my skin.

“Welcome to the team, Captain,” I said.

She gave me a look that said she wasn’t sure if I was mocking her or not. Truth was, maybe I didn’t know either. But one thing was clear: whatever fight she was dragging us into, it wasn’t gonna be like any we’d faced before.

Because for the first time… Earth wasn’t the only battleground.

Chapter Text

Chapter 22

Pony’s POV

The first chase hit like a lightning strike, no time to think, only react.

Carol had barely finished telling us the Skrulls could look like anyone when the first one bolted through the crowded streets of Los Angeles outside of the Blockbuster, morphing mid-sprint from a suit-wearing businessman into a wild-eyed kid. Panic scattered the civilians like marbles on a tile floor.

Carol didn’t hesitate. She ignited like a living flare and shot forward, tearing down the block.

“Move!” Carol shouted, voice cutting through the chaos.

And then it was us, the Strays, snapping into place like old muscle memory.

“Breaker (Steve), eyes on engines,” Atlas (Darry) barked, already vaulting a parked car with ease. “Pulse (Soda), cut off their escape routes. Jokester (Two-Bit) - keep the crowd calm.”

“I’ll keep ‘em entertained,” Jokester (Two-Bit) called back, climbing on top of a mailbox and waving his arms like a carnival barker. “Ladies and gents, don’t panic! You’re just extras in a Michael Bay movie! Keep moving to the exits, single file!” Luck bent in his favor, and somehow people listened, streaming away without trampling each other.

radio stations at once. My eyes burned gold, and I forced out a projection of calm, a glowing pulse that blanketed the block in reassurance. Not perfect, but enough to dull the edges of panic.

Then the Skrull shifted again, this time into a woman in a red dress, darting toward a crowded metro station.

“Not happening,” I muttered. Light flared in my palms, and I fired an illusion ahead of her path: a wall of searing golden energy, flickering like solid glass. She stumbled, thrown off, and that’s when Carol hit her, fist first, sending her skidding across a parked car roof.

Reckless (Dally) was right there, laughing like a lunatic as he dove after her. The Skrull lashed out, cracking him across the jaw with a surge of green energy. The hit should’ve put a normal man through the pavement. Reckless (Dally) only grinned wider. His skin glowed faint red, energy surging into him.

“That all you got, freak?” Reckless (Dally) spat and slugged back twice as hard.

Pulse (Soda) blurred in a streak of motion, already circling the fight. He snagged two Skrulls trying to join the fray, his hypnotic grin flashing as he shoved them into each other.

“Dance partners!” Pulse (Soda) quipped, moving too fast for their strikes to connect.

Ash (Johnny) was fire in human form, flames curling around him as he whipped a cloak of ash into being. The cloak lashed out like a whip, wrapping around one Skrull’s legs and yanking it off balance.

“They don’t quit, do they?” Ash (Johnny) said.

“Neither do we,” Atlas shot back, lifting an entire overturned taxi with one hand and hurling it like it was scrap metal. It smashed down between two Skrulls, blocking their escape route.

Breaker focused, eyes narrowing as his hand twitched. A row of abandoned cars suddenly roared to life, engines growling as though obeying him. He slammed them into motion, herding fleeing Skrulls back toward Carol and the rest of us like cattle being forced into a pen.

And me? I was everywhere and nowhere. My light shields flared against stray blasts, shimmering domes protecting civilians too slow to run. My illusions multiplied, Carol, making it look like there were five of her instead of one, each blazing with cosmic fire.

The Skrulls faltered, confused, unsure which was real.

Carol used the hesitation like a hammer. She charged the nearest one, glowing like a miniature sun, and drove it into the concrete.

“Tell your friends,” Carol snarled.

The fight wasn’t pretty, but it was ours. The Strays had done this dance too many times to count, different enemies, same rhythm. And now Carol was part of it, slipping into the chaos like she’d always been there.

As the last Skrull crumpled under Reckless’s (Dally) fist, I stood in the glowing aftermath, ash floating, neon lights sparking overhead, car alarms wailing. My chest heaved, golden light dimming from my skin.

For a second, everything went still. The city, the people, even the fear in the air.

And then Carol looked around at us—really looked. Her expression was half-disbelief, half-relief.

“You guys fight like… like you’ve been doing this forever,” Carol said, voice hoarse but strong.

Atlas (Darry) crossed his arms, chin set.

“That’s because we have,” Atlas (Darry) said.

I caught her eyes then, her emotions spilling through the cracks in her guarded face. Hope. Wariness. A flicker of belonging she wasn’t ready to admit yet.

And underneath it all… the quiet question she was too proud to ask: “Who am I, really?”

The train screeched to a halt, sparks flying as the brakes locked. The Skrull Carol had chased was gone, slipped through our fingers, shifting faces like smoke. But the passengers were safe, shaken but alive. That counted.

I staggered off the train last, the glow in my skin fading down to a low ember. My head throbbed from the sheer rush of emotions, fear from the civilians, determination from Carol, firebrand joy from Soda still running on adrenaline, and that cold grit Reckless carried like a chip on his shoulder. I pushed it all down before it drowned me.

Nick Fury was already waiting on the platform, trench coat trailing, one hand on his holster. Coulson, no, not Coulson. The lookalike Skrull. My gut twisted, but Fury’s sharp eyes caught the same wrongness, suspicion etched into every line of his face.

Carol stepped forward, squaring her shoulders like a soldier reporting for duty.

“Not the first one we’ve seen today,” Fury muttered, then glanced at us. “You guys clock it too?”

“Yeah,” Darry answered, voice steady as stone. “Slipped through before we could pin it. They’re good at hiding in plain sight.”

Soda leaned against a concrete pillar, a casual grin covering his wired nerves.

“Cops’re still sorting out the civilians,” Soda said. “My guess is we’ll have a city-wide panic by morning.”

“Which is why we keep this tight,” Fury shot back, his gaze flicking between him, Carol, and us. “Nobody says Skrull out loud unless I say so. Understood?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Two-Bit chirped, tipping an invisible hat. “We’ll just tell folks the green guys were actors from Disneyland. Whole train chase? Promotional stunt.”

“Cute,” Fury deadpanned, though I caught the flicker of a smirk he tried to bury.

Carol stepped closer, urgency rolling off her like heat.

“They’re here for a reason,” Carol said. “They risked exposure. Skrulls don’t do that unless the target’s worth it.”

Her emotions spiked, a mix of frustration and grim certainty, and the echo of it thudded into me before I could block it. I steadied, catching her eye. “

You think it’s tied to Lawson?” Fury asked.

Carol’s jaw clenched.

“I know it is,” Carol said.

Johnny adjusted the edge of his jacket, the faint glow of cinders still fading off his shoulders.

“Then we find out what Lawson was working on,” Johnny said, low but sure. “Before the Skrulls beat us to it.”

Fury gave a short nod.

“Agreed,” Fury said. “I’ll work my end of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts, but they’ll stonewall me without clearance. If Lawson was buried deep, we’ll need another way in.”

Steve cracked his knuckles and shrugged.

“Good thing breaking into places is what we do best,” Steve said.

Darry sighed, rubbing a hand down his face like he already regretted agreeing to this ride. But he didn’t say no. He never did when the stakes were this high.

Carol looked over the lot of us, fire in her eyes, then at Fury.

“Then we move now,” Carol said. “Before the trail goes cold.”

The platform lights buzzed above, casting us in pale orange as we fell into step, Carol and Fury leading, the Strays trailing just behind.

And as I matched stride with Johnny and Soda, I felt that static again under my skin, that wrongness in the atmosphere. The city didn’t just look different anymore; it felt different.

Like something was waking up.

And for the first time in years, I wasn’t sure if we were ready.

“We need to move to the records room,” Carol said.

We didn’t waste time. Carol pushed forward with a soldier’s stride, Fury shadowing her like he’d been doing this all his life. We fell in line behind, each of us moving like gears in an engine, loud on the outside, but running smoothly.

By the time we hit the Records Lab, the sun was low, painting the government complex in burnt gold. I felt it before we even slipped inside: the buzz of secrets. Not just in people’s thoughts, but in the walls, the machines, the ghosts of conversations that clung to places like this. The whole building felt… heavy.

Breaker (Steve) waved a hand, and the locked electronic panel on the side door clicked open like butter melting. He grinned.

“Piece of cake,” Breaker (Steve) said.

“Better be,” Atlas (Darry) muttered, hauling the door open without a creak despite the weight of it.

Pulse (Soda) zipped inside first, eyes scanning the hallways in a blur of motion before flicking his wrist.

“Clear,” Pulse (Soda) said.

Jokester (Two-Bit) was right behind him, whispering loud enough for all of us.

“Man, I was hopin’ for at least one guard dog,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said. “Maybe a tripwire. C’mon, give us somethin’.”

“Shut it,” Reckless (Dally) snapped, tugging his jacket tighter as he slipped inside. “You want excitement, you’ll get it when we’re runnin’ for our skins.”

Ash (Johnny) brushed past me, flickers of ember trailing in his wake, like he couldn’t quite keep his fire down in this place. He gave me a small nod, his way of saying stay sharp.

Inside, the lab was quiet but not dead. Rows of beige cabinets and towering shelves lined the walls, with the faint hum of fluorescent lights. My stomach twisted, not from fear, but from the pressure. Someone had hidden something important here. I could feel it thrumming in the air, like a secret heartbeat.

Carol stalked ahead, scanning file drawers like she already knew the way.

“Lawson’s project would’ve been buried under Defense, maybe R&D,” Carol said. “We need anything with her name or Project PEGASUS.”

“On it,” Fury said, though his eyes flicked to us like he wasn’t sure what to make of having seven wildcards at his back.

Breaker (Steve) lifted his hands, and every filing cabinet in the nearest row rattled, drawers sliding out and hanging midair like they’d been yanked by invisible strings.

“Show-off,” Jokester (Two-Bit) whistled, poking at one floating drawer like he was testing gravity.

“Efficient,” Breaker (Steve) corrected with a smirk. Papers began flipping themselves out, a whirlwind of classified ink circling him until he snapped his fingers, and a specific folder flew neatly into his palm.

“Dr. Wendy Lawson,” Steve read, passing it to Carol.

She grabbed it like it was oxygen. Her face tightened, almost cracking under the weight of the memories pressing up from wherever she kept them buried.

“This is it,” Carol said.

I felt the surge off her before she could tamp it down: grief, anger, longing. It hit me hard, but I let my light bloom faintly in my chest, a ripple of calm to steady her emotions without her noticing. Just enough to keep her focused.

Atlas (Darry) leaned over her shoulder, scanning. “Energy core… experimental propulsion…” His voice dropped lower. “This ain’t just tech. This is something bigger.”

Ash’s hand hovered close, a spark dancing at his fingertips. “Whatever it is, the Skrulls think it’s worth dying for.”

Carol’s jaw set like steel.

“No,” Carol said darkly. “They think it’s worth killing us for.”

Pulse (Soda), who’d been darting between aisles, zipped back with another file clutched in his hand.

“Project PEGASUS cross-referenced with NASA,” Pulse (Soda) said. “It’s not just buried. It’s buried twice.”

Fury swore under his breath.

“Means we’re close,” Fury said. “Too close.”

That’s when I felt it, the ripple of intent brushing against the edge of my mind. A thought that wasn’t ours. Too cold. Too precise.

“We’re not alone,” I hissed.

Carol’s head snapped up. Fury reached for his gun. Atlas (Darry) squared his shoulders like a human wall.

From the far end of the lab, the lights flickered, and a figure stepped out of the shadows. Its face shifted once, twice, like clay trying on different masks before settling into something familiar. A guard.

“Company,” Reckless (Dally) growled, fists clenching, energy humming just beneath his skin.

The Skrull sneered, eyes flashing green.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” The Skrull said.

Jokester (Two-Bit) grinned, flipping his knife.

“Aw, we get that a lot,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said.

The tension broke all at once as the Skrull lunged forward, and I felt the Strays slip into their rhythm, chaos, fire, steel, and light, all moving as one.

We weren’t walking out quietly anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 23

Soda’s POV

“Fucking shit,” Reckless (Dally) shouted. “It’s SHIELD and Skrulls now.”

“How are you sure it’s not all Skrulls?” Ash (Johnny) asked nervously.

“We don’t,” Breaker (Steve) growled.

“Breaker (Steve) and Jokester (Two-Bit), go after Marvel in the stairway; we’ll help Fury with the one disguised as an agent,” Atlas (Darry) ordered.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said with a smirk.

“File’s safe,” I called. “Now let’s bust some heads.”

Atlas (Darry) didn’t waste time with words; he threw himself between Fury and another Skrull, taking the punch square in the chest like it was nothing. The sound of bone on his skin cracked through the room. The Skrull reeled back, clutching its hand like it had just tried to deck a brick wall.

“You picked the wrong building,” Atlas (Darry) said, voice calm as he shoved the alien across a desk like it was paper.

Meanwhile, Ash (Johnny) moved like smoke, flames unfurling from his hands as ash swirled around him in a cloak. One Skrull tried to flank him, and Johnny vanished into the haze, reappearing behind the thing and lashing its back with a whip of fire.

Carol blasted forward, light blazing from her fists, and slammed another Skrull through a cabinet, scattering files like confetti. She was trailed by Jokester (Two-Bit) and Breaker (Steve).

“I guess she didn’t need our help,” Breaker (Steve) mumbled.

I grinned. Yeah, this was our kind of party.

I darted through the fray, moving so fast the Skrulls couldn’t track me. I’d zip in, tap one on the shoulder, then slip behind and slam a heel into the back of their knees before they even turned. The best part? That little trick in my smile. When one locked eyes with me, snarling, I flashed my teeth. The snarl faltered, hesitation breaking through, like I’d just talked ‘em down without saying a word.
“Bad day to pick a fight, buddy,” I told him. Then I shoved him into one of Breaker’s floating filing cabinets.

Jokester (Two-Bit) was laughing his fool head off, ducking behind desks and tossing files at Skrulls like paper bombs. Thing was, every time one went for him, something went wrong for them. One tripped over a chair leg that wasn’t there a second ago. Another tried to tackle him, but the ceiling light above them just happened to fall at the same moment, clocking the Skrull instead.

“You see that?” Jokester (Two-Bit) cackled. “I don’t even gotta throw a punch! Lady Luck’s got my back, boys.”

Reckless (Dally) was already bloodied, but the more they hit him, the more his fists glowed with kinetic energy. A Skrull slammed him into a wall, and instead of crumpling, (Reckless) Dally pushed back harder, grinning wildly.

“Yeah, hit me again!” Reckless (Dally) barked, driving his fist into the alien’s gut and sending a shockwave through the plaster.

“Reckless, keep the damn building standing!” Atlas (Darry) roared.

Mindlight (Pony) was the quiet storm in the chaos. His eyes lit up as a Skrull grabbed for Fury, and suddenly the alien froze mid-step, clutching its head like it was drowning in emotions that weren’t its own. Mindlight’s (Pony) light shimmered, wrapping Fury in a protective glow as the bullet fire from another Skrull’s stolen gun ricocheted off harmlessly.

“You’re safe,” Pony whispered, voice low but steady, and the shield held until Carol disarmed the shooter with a single glowing punch.

I zipped past Fury, who was crouched with his gun drawn but clearly trying to keep up.

“You good, old man?” I teased, grabbing another Skrull by the arm and spinning him dizzy before dumping him at Atlas’s (Darry) feet.

Fury shot me a look.

“Don’t call me old,” Fury snapped. Then he fired two clean rounds into a Skrull charging Carol.

The whole place was chaos, papers burning from Ash’s (Johnny) fire, desks splintering from Atlas’s swings, cabinets floating like a storm of steel under Breaker’s (Steve) control. Reckless (Dally) was glowing, Jokester (Two-Bit) was laughing, and Mindlight’s (Pony) calm presence cut through it all like a steady heartbeat.

Me? I was everywhere at once, threading the fight together like stitches in cloth.

Finally, Carol drove her glowing fist straight into the lead Skrull’s chest, blasting him back into the far wall. The impact shook the whole lab. The others froze, their forms glitching, and then scattered into ash and green blood across the floor.

Silence hung thick for a second, broken only by the crackle of Ash’s (Johnny’s) flames licking at loose papers.

Carol straightened, breathing hard but steady, her fists still glowing faintly. She glanced at us, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Not bad, for a pack of strays, ” Carol said.

“The Strays,” I corrected with a wink, brushing dust off my jacket. “Capital S.”

Atlas (Darry) groaned, but Fury holstered his gun, eyeing us with something I swear looked like respect.

“Well,” Fury muttered, “I see why Peggy vouched for you.”

Ash’s (Johnny) flames dimmed, Breaker (Steve) let the cabinets clatter back to the floor, and Mindlight let his shield flicker out.

But me? I kept grinning, ‘cause I knew one thing for sure. This wasn’t the end of the fight; it was just the warm-up.

“It’s not the time to dilly-dally,” Dally growled. “We need to get out of here.”

We followed Carol into the stairway, where we ran into Coulson with a gun pointed at us.

“Holy hell,” I muttered under my breath.

Johnny’s eyes were wide.

Pony’s lip wobbled.

Then Coulson lowered his gun.

“They’re not down here,” Coulson called.

Fury gave him a grateful nod as we headed out the door on that level.

Carol took Fury’s phone for him.

“Burn, dude,” Two-Bit joked.

Fury shot him a look.

Someone slammed into the door. Then agents or Skrulls, whoever they were, started after us.

We hid behind some storage containers.

Carol beckoned us toward a ship.

“This isn’t going to be good,” Pony muttered under his breath.

When we got on board, Carol got into the front seat.

“You know how to drive this thing?” Fury asked.

“I think so,” Carol asked.

“That didn’t sound convincing,” Darry muttered.

Then Carol got it going.

“Now that’s more like it,” Steve said with a smirk.

As we started down the runway, the agents or Skrulls started firing at us.

“I don’t like this,” Johnny murmured.

“Well, too bad,” Carol called back at us.

“Suckers,” Dally called over his shoulder as he looked out the window when we took off.

Then we heard a noise, a meow.

“A kitty!” Pony shrieked.

“Of course you would get excited about a cat,” I laughed.

Darry groaned and ran a hand over his face.

“Did you guys find anything?” Fury asked us.

“I did,” Carol said.

She passed a photo around, and I paled when I saw her in a pilot’s uniform.

“That you?” Steve asked.

“Yep,” Carol said. “I guess my memory must have erased a few things. It traces back to Maria Lambeau.”

We all looked at each other nervously.

“Can she be trusted?” Dally asked.

“Only one way to find out,” Two-Bit said. “To go there.”

“I like you already,” Carol said with a smirk. “Off to Louisiana we go.”

“Have you boys ever been to Louisiana?” Fury asked us.

Darry shook his head.

“We don’t really get out much,” Darry admitted.

“It’s time to change that,” Fury said with a smirk.

Soon enough, we landed in a field in a secluded part.

That’s when we saw a young girl working on a plane.

“That girl sure knows her stuff,” Steve said with a smirk.

“Why don’t you come with me then?” Carol offered. “You guys stay at a distance.”

We watched her and Steve walk up to her reluctantly. While we stayed back reluctantly.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Beats me,” Pony said. “But we don’t have any other choice.”

Then that’s when we saw her. Maria Lambeau. A flicker of recognition flashed across her face.

The next thing we knew, we were in her house.

Carol and Fury told her everything.

She looked at us in disbelief.

“This sounds like something completely made up,” Maria said.

“Believe me,” Dally muttered. “I would normally agree with you, but we got zapped by a glowing cube in 1967 Tulsa and now we have powers, can’t age, traveled back in time to the 1940’s then back to ‘67, and now we’re here battling aliens.”

“You really shouldn’t have said that,” Fury said. “We can’t have a kid blabbing about this.”

Maria’s daughter shot us a dirty look.

Carol showed off her powers by heating up a teapot.

“Believe me now?” Carol asked.

Maria’s daughter, Monica, looked at us now.

“Show me your stuff,” Monica begged.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” I said with a smirk.

We all did, even Darry and Dally reluctantly.

“Sweet,” Monica said. “But I have all your stuff for you, Aunt Carol.”

With that, Monica ran off.

“Can you guys help her with that?” Carol said.

“But…” Two-Bit spluttered.

“Come on, Two,” I said with an eye roll. “Give Carol and Maria a minute.”

We followed Monica and Fury off to help Monica with Carol’s stuff.

“This stuff is kind of cool,” Darry murmured. “It kind of feels like I’m going through her personal stuff, though.”

“At least it gives us some time to recharge and relax,” Dally said. “We need it. I feel like we need it for whatever comes next.”

“Come look at this, Aunt Carol,” Monica called while she looked at the photos.

“She looked kind of cute as a kid,” Steve muttered.

I gasped.

“Did Steve call someone cute?” I mocked.

Steve rolled his eyes.

Carol came in with Maria, and Monica started going down memory lane.

We all looked at each other cautiously when Carol seemed uneasy.

Darry and I made eye contact.

We both knew how painful old memories could be.

Then there was a knock at the door.

“Oh hell no,” Johnny muttered.

“This can’t be good,” Two-Bit muttered.

“Skrull potential alert,” Pony said nervously. His powers are faintly glowing.

Fury and Carol walked up to the door and carefully opened the door.

Sure enough, it was just a neighbor.

I let out a sigh of relief.

“At least it wasn’t a Skrull,” I said.

“That’s wishful thinking,” a voice said behind us.

We all whirled around, powers activated.

We were facing a Skrull.

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Darry’s POV

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” Dally growled.

“Dal,” I warned. “Don’t do something rash.”

Dally rolled his eyes at me.

I was about to snap back at what Maria said next, throw us off.

“What the hell!” Maria said. “That Skrull outside is impersonating me with my daughter.”

We all turned around, and our eyes widened.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Johnny muttered. “Messing with a kid.”

“No one is going to kill her, just don’t kill me, it will complicate things,” the Skrull said.

We all tensed up.

“Complicated my ass,” Fury sneered. “It’s already complicated.”

“Who the hell is out there?” Carol demanded. “What do you want?”

“I knew you were different,” the Skrull said. “I heard some things from Pegasus that tipped me off, as well as how you crushed many of my men. And many more with the help of these men.”

“We can do much more,” Steve sneered.

The Skrull scuffed.

“How did you get the black box?” Maria asked.

“I can do things, young lady,” The Skrull said.

“Young lady, my ass,” Maria said. She was going to say more, but the Skrull cut her off.

“We can go on and on like this, but we need to talk,” the Skrull said.

“Unhand the girl outside, and then maybe we can talk,” Soda said carefully.

“Listen to him,” Carol said. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“Fine,” The Skrull said.

Then all of a sudden, he let out a shriek as Goose (the cat) came up to him.

Two-Bit snorted.

“Scared of a cat are we?” Two-Bit teased.

“It’s a Flerkin,” the Skrull said.

“A what now?” Pony asked in confusion.

“A Flerkin, the Skrull said. “They have tentacles that come out of their mouths and eat anyone whole.”

I paled.

“One more reason why I hate cats,” I muttered.

The Skrull stayed true to his word, and Monica came inside with the other Skrull, but Maria wouldn’t let her listen in on the conversation.

She asked Two-Bit to entertain her.

“Why do I get babysitting duty?” Two-Bit grumbled.

“Just behave,” Steve grumbled. “And entertain the kid with your tricks.”

“So are we going to listen to this black box or what?” Dally muttered.

“Do we really want to listen to this?” Johnny asked.

“We have to,” Carol said. “It’s important. But why is it taking so long?”

“It’s loading,” Pony explained. “Technology has made advancements, but there is still room for improvement.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Soda teased.

Pony stuck his tongue out at Soda as the black box tape played.

We listened to Carol’s tape play over the computer.

I still found it odd how technology was evolving, by we, the gang, and I never aged and changed.

“Her blood was blue,” Carol murmured. “Unnatural.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “Why was her blood blue?
”
“She wasn’t human,” Carol murmured. “Lawson wasn’t her real name either. It was Marvel. That’s why I’m calling myself that. Captain Marvel. She comes from a different planet.”

“Why was she here?” Fury asked.

“She needed to save someone,” Carol murmured.

“Save who?” Maria asked.

“I don’t know,” Carol said. “But they wanted the energy core. On the ship.”

“What did they want with it?” Johnny asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” Carol said. “But I shot it, so they didn’t get it. It exploded. I think that’s why they took me, because I absorbed its power. That’s why I’m like this.”

“So kind of like us and the cube,” Pony said in awe.

“They called me Vers because of what was left on the dog tag of my last name,” Carol said in realization.

“And you never chose to correct them?” Soda asked.

“Because I forgot,” Carol said in distress. “They manipulated and lied to me.”

“They’re dangerous,” The Skrull said. “That’s what Marvel discovered. She wanted to do what was ride and help us.”

“You’re lying,” Carol cried.

“I’m not,” The Skrull said. “She wanted you to help us. Live up to her. Make her right.”

“Listen to him, Carol,” Maria said. “They need our help. Don’t listen to the people who took you away from us and manipulated you.”

“Listen to her, Carol,” Fury said.

“We’re behind you all the way,” I said. “100%”

“We need to find Marvel’s lab,” The Skurll said. “But it’s somewhere on Earth. Those coordinates are here somewhere.”

“They show a place in space, not on Earth,” Maria said.

“Hunh?” The Skrull said. “You sure?”

“Positive,” Maria said.

“She’s right,” Fury said. “I’ve seen them. That’s why you couldn’t find it.”

“If we track the flight plans of Marvel’s ship that day, we could get there,” Carol said.

“It looks like we’re going to space,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “The Strays are going to space.”

“You better not do anything stupid,” Steve said. “Because we’re not space-proof.”

“You want to come with us, Maria?” Carol asked. “I need a co-pilot.”

“I can’t leave Monica,” Maria protested.

“You have to,” Monica said. “Don’t say it’s dangerous because you’ve done dangerous things before. You have to go. It’s going to be so cool. I can stay with grandma and grandpa.”

“Listen to the kid,” Dally said with a smirk. “She makes a good point.”

“She kind of reminds me of you, Pone,” Soda said with a smirk at Pony.

“Nuh unh,” Pony said. “I was less stubborn.”

“You sure about that?” I asked. “You are pretty stubborn.”

“Look at yourself, Superman,” Johnny said with a smirk.

Everyone laughed.

“I would say it’s time to suit up, wouldn’t you?” Fury asked us. “Are the Strays going to assemble?”

“Dar?” Two-Bit asked.

“Let’s do this,” I said.

A Skrull went incognito as Carol to throw off Yon-Rogg and the Kree.

“Let’s hope it buys us enough time,” Steve muttered.

We were all on a ship with Maria in the hot seat next to Carol, and Fury was torturing the Skrull with the Flerken.

“I just hope you fly smoother with Maria here,” Johnny murmured.

Carol laughed.

“You guys are funny,” Carol said.

Then we were off.

“Jesus Christ,” Two-Bit said. “This thing has some kick.”

Then we hit zero gravity. It felt so weird.

“This is so cool,” Soda said. “We’re floating.”

“It’s also kind of weird,” Pony said. “To see the Earth from up here. And kind of activating my fear of heights.”

“I’m going to activate cloaking,” Carol said.

“Smart,” I said. “We want to buy ourselves as enough time as possible. So what’s the plan?”

“We’re going to the lab,” Carol said. “To get what’s at the center of the core.”

When we got there, we could feel and sense the familiar buzzing of the Tesseract.

“Is that what I think it is?” Two-Bit asked nervously.

“It can’t be,” Steve muttered. “I thought we left it at SHIELD after we defeated Vex.”

“You lost it already?” Dally sneered at Fury.

“Don’t blame me,” Fury said. “I wasn’t on Tesseract duty.”

“You can feel it too?” Carol asked us. “The Tesseract.”

We nodded.

“It gave us our powers,” Johnny said. “It looks like we’re connected after all.”

“Looks like it,” Carol said with a small smile.

“Welcome to the weird Tesseract-infected club,” Soda said.

“This is so weird,” Maria muttered.

“Do you guys feel that presence?” Pony asked. “There are more people here.”

We all tensed up.

“Don’t shoot,” The Skrull said. “They’re family.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Soon enough, Skrulls, young and old, appeared.

“Oh,” I said. “That’s why. The innocents. Those Marvel was trying to protect.”

Then all of a sudden, there was a movement.

“Oh shit,” Two-Bit muttered. “We’ve got company.”

Sure enough, the Kree appeared.

“Stop right there,” Dally snarled. “Don’t come a step forward.”

Yon Rogg laughed.

“You act like you have any say,” Yon Rogg said. “But you’re on the wrong side here. Just like Vers here. But one thing she didn’t account for is that she also brought me more of the energy source to deplete. You lot.”

“Don’t you dare hurt them,” I growled.

Yon Rogg scuffed.

“You don’t have a say, you brute,” Yon Rogg sneered. “It can all be taken away.”

That’s when Carold started attacking Yon Rogg, but she was easily dispatched.

“This isn’t going to be good,” Johnny murmured nervously.

Soda put a nervous hand on Pony’s shoulder.

“Stay behind me, Pone,” Soda said quietly.

“I’m not a kid..” Pony protested, but I shot him a look to shut him up.

They got the Tesseract from Maria’s lunchbox.

“Let that go,” Steve snarled. “That doesn’t belong to you.”

Yon Rogg ignored him and rolled his eyes.

Before we could do anything, we were all escorted to a holding cell.

“This is going to be fun,” Two-Bit muttered.

“This kind of reminds me of my juvie days,” Dally said. “Don’t worry, I’ll find us a way out.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I think it’s a little more high-tech than that, Dal,” Johnny said.

Pony snorted with laughter.

“Where’s Carol?” Pony asked seriously.

“I don’t know,” Steve muttered. “But wherever it is, it isn’t good. They’re going to try to pull information out of her about Marvel. So what’s the plan, big guy?”

Everyone looked at me.

I groaned.

“We need to get to her before they can get that information,” I said after a moment.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25

Two-Bit’s POV

Before we could move, though, Carol blasted through the wall.

“So much for your plan, Superman,” I teased.

“Not the time, Jokester (Two-Bit),” Atlas (Darry) growled.

“You guys ok?” Carol asked.

“Never better,” Dally grumbled. “You good?”

“Peachy,” Carol said. “We need to get going to get the Tesseract out of here. Fury, can you grab it?”

“I’m not touching that thing,” Fury spluttered.

“We could handle it,” Mindlight (Pony) offered. “We’ve handled it before.”

Pony was about to grab it when Goose ate it.

“I guess that’s one way to handle it,” Breaker (Steve) said with a smirk.

“But how are we going to get it out of the cat?” Ash (Johnny) asked.

“Problem for another time,” Pulse (Soda) said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Carol,” Atlas (Darry) said. “We’ll come with you as backup.”

Darry turned to Fury and Maria.

“Do you guys need us with you?” Atlas (Darry) asked.

Fury shook his head.

“We should be good,” Fury said.

“Better than good,” Maria said as she picked up one of the dropped guns from the Kree.

We followed Carol to face off against Yon Rogg.

“I thought you would come back, Vers,” Yon Rogg said when he saw her.

“But she’s got back up this time,” I quipped.

“Dangerous backup,” Reckless (Dally) grumbled.

“Game on,” Yon Rogg said with a smirk.

Before they could do anything, Reckless (Dally) shot them in the chest with a kinetic blast. Johnny then set the canisters on the wall off with the fire, knocking the others on the ground with the blasts.

That didn’t hold them down for long.

“I’ve got some distractions up my sleeve,” I said with a smirk.

I made extra copies of myself as illusions to distract the other Kree soldiers that popped up from the debris.

Carol was going to engage in hand-to-hand combat with Yon Rogg.

“We need to help her,” Mindlight (Pony) said nervously. “She won’t hold for long.”

“We just need to distract the other soldiers while we can to keep them from Fury and Maria,” Soda said with a shake of his head. “She’s got this.”

“Let’s just hope this is enough,” Breaker (Steve) said grimly.

We were wearing ourselves too thin.

“I can feel myself getting worn out,” Atlas (Darry) called.

“Same here,” I panted.

By that time, Carol was already pinned against the wall.

“You imbeciles,” Yon Rogg growled when he saw we were a distraction.

“Well, you're the imbeciles,” Carol said. “You fell for it.”

That’s when Yon Rogg took off.

“We need to go help them,” Carol called, chasing after him.

“How?” Ash (Johnny) asked. “We can’t fly.”

“We grab a ship,” Breaker (Steve) said. “I can rig it, remember?”

“I like the way you think,” Pulse (Soda) said with a smirk.

“God save us all,” Atlas (Darry) groaned.

We all hopped into one of the Kree ships, and Breaker (Steve) took off.

It took a few dips and dives, but he got us in the fight.

“You think you can duplicate us, Jokester (Two-Bit)?” Reckless (Dally) asked.

“Do you even have to ask?” I teased with a smirk.

I put my hands on the walls of the ship and channeled my power through it to help chase off the other Kree ships.

We were able to shoot down a few of the ships while Carol took on Yon Rogg.

“Let’s meet at Maria’s,” Carol called through the intercoms. “Yon Rogg is taken care of, and the Tesseract is taken care of.”

“Good,” Mindlight (Pony) said. “It should be with SHIELD again. Hopefully, this time for good.”

“Don’t jinx us,” Johnny said, his eyes wide.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

We finally landed back at Maria’s house.

I grimaced when I saw Goose’s claw marks over Fury’s eye.

“You good there, Fury?” Darry asked. “That doesn’t look too hot.”

Maria snorted.

“It was kind of funny, though,” Maria said.

“Don’t start that,” Fury snapped. “But I’m fine.”

We all settled in for a card game to decompress.

“Just like the good old days,” Soda said. “I missed this.”

“What were you guys like as kids?” Carol asked as we sat down.

“More of the same,” Dally said with a grimace. “Just more carefree and less on our plate.”

“Do you guys ever wish things would go back to normal?” Maria asked us.

Johnny smiled faintly.

“Not really,” Johnny said quietly. “In more ways, it has brought us more together and helped us find purpose.”

“How did you even find the Tesseract to begin with?” Fury asked. “It wasn’t in your guys' file.”

“I decided to go to a haunted house at the edge of town that glowed blue and pulsed,” I said with a smirk. “These guys were stupid enough to go with me.”

“More like we wouldn’t let you go alone,” Steve grumbled. “Dingus.”

Everyone laughed.

“You guys sticking around?” Monica asked hopefully.

“I think we’re going back to Tulsa to lay low,” Darry admitted. “But Fury, you have us on a pager, though.”

“Speaking of which,” Fury said with a smirk. “I had some people back at SHIELD grab you some emergency cellphones to get in better contact.”

Fury tossed us each one.

“Cool,” Soda said. “We could get into trouble with this.”

Darry groaned.

“But we won’t,” Darry promised.

Soda rolled his eyes.

“I’m not sticking around either,” Carol admitted.

Everyone looked sad, but I wasn’t shocked.

“I’ve already programmed my pager with you guys,” Carol gestured towards us. “So stay in touch.”

Carol tossed a pager to Fury.

“You too,” Carol said with a smirk.

“Thanks for taking us for an out of this world ride, Captain,” I said with a smirk. “It was special.”

“Well,” Carol said. “I think Earth is in good hands with you guys, so don’t get into too much trouble with those phones of yours.”

“Can’t promise you that, sweetheart,” Dally said with a smirk and a wink.

“You know how to contact us, Fury,” Pony said. “Just give us a call when you need us. That goes for you, too, Maria and Monica.”

Maria stood up and shook our hands.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maria said. “Take care. But how do you plan on getting back to Tulsa?”

“That ship,” Steve said with a smirk.

“I don’t like this at all,” Johnny muttered.

Everyone laughed.

Thirteen years later…

Thirteen years. You’d think that’d be enough time to hang up the tights, stash the SHIELD gear in a closet, and call it a day. But the thing about being one of Fury’s “Strays” is, you’re never really done. We weren’t built for quiet.

Still, life found ways to sneak normal in between the chaos.

1995-1998

I got a job running a garage with Steve, because if anybody was gonna keep engines alive, it was the guy who could make ‘em hum with a thought. I mostly cracked jokes at customers until they paid up. Steve muttered about me scaring business away, but between his skills and my “lucky streak,” we never had a car come back twice for the same problem.

Soda was a natural salesman. He bounced between gigs, sometimes modeling, sometimes pulling shifts at the shop, charming every client who came through. Darry kept us steady, working construction while staying sharp, training us on weekends like the big brother-slash-drill sergeant he always was.

Johnny spent those years figuring himself out. Fire and ash don’t come easily. Some nights I’d find him out back, smoke curling off his hands, staring at the sky like he was afraid of burning the world down. Pony was his anchor. The kid had this glow to him now, literally. When his eyes lit up, you couldn’t hide a damn thing from him, and he didn’t let Johnny drown in his own fire.

Dally did his own thing, drifting but always coming back. He’d pick fights he knew he could soak up, just to feel that energy in his bones. He swore it made him feel alive. Scared the hell out of me sometimes, but it worked for him.

1999-2003

We didn’t hear much from SHIELD for a while. Fury was a shadow, checking in once or twice. Said we were “on ice” unless something world-ending hit. Fine by us. Gave us space to breathe.
But we couldn’t stay out of trouble forever.

We started running small ops off the books, stuff we stumbled into. Smugglers moving alien tech in back alleys. Crooked dealers are trying to weaponize engines. (Steve nearly blew a gasket over that one, pun intended.) Whenever we jumped in, it felt like slipping back into old jackets.

“Jokester,” Darry would groan, “this isn’t what Fury wants us doing.”

“Relax, Atlas,” I’d grin, “lady luck’s on our side.”

And somehow? She always was.

2004-2007

The years wore us differently. Soda toured with racing circuits, too fast for his own good but too charming to stay out of the spotlight. Pony started teaching part-time at a local college, burying himself in books while moonlighting on SHIELD research gigs. Darry bought a house, saying it was “for all of us if we needed it.” Of course it was.

Johnny… Johnny got quieter. He controlled his fire, but now and then, I’d see the ash fall off his shoulders like snow, and I knew he was holding more than flames inside. Dally never quit testing limits. Sometimes I thought the two of them were fire and gasoline, dangerous, but impossible to separate.

Me? I told myself I was keeping morale up—jokes, pranks, dumb luck in the right place. Truth is, I was scared. Scared the world didn’t need the Strays anymore.

2008…

Then came the page.

We were in the garage, Steve under a car, Soda leaning against the counter, telling some poor delivery guy his life story, Darry sorting invoices as if it were life-or-death, when it buzzed in.
Not Peggy. Not Dugan. Not even Coulson.

Nick Fury.

Message: “Stark compromised. I need the Strays.”

I whistled low, tossing the pager across the room.

“Well, boys,” I said with a smirk. “Looks like the world remembered us.”

Steve slid out from under the car, grease on his face, brow furrowed.

“Stark?” Steve asked with a cocked eyebrow. “As in Tony Stark? Howard’s son?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The guy with the ego bigger than his weapons catalog. Guess he’s in deep.”

Soda grinned, eyes already lit with that restless energy.

“Bet he’ll love us,” Soda laughed.

Johnny’s voice was quiet, but steady.

“If Fury’s calling… this ain’t small,” Johnny said nervously.

Pony’s glow flared in his eyes, catching emotions before we spoke them.

“No, it’s the start of something bigger,” Pony said quietly.

Dally cracked his knuckles, grin sharp.

“Finally,” Dally growled. “Something to do while the world moves on without us and we still look the same as we did in 1967.”

And Darry? Darry just looked at us, steady as ever, that mix of pride and worry in his eyes.

“Alright, Strays,” Darry said with a smile tugging at his lips. “Saddle up. If Fury needs us, we’re back in.”

And for the first time in years, I felt it, the rush of the fight waiting ahead. The luck buzzing in my bones. The Strays weren’t done. Not even close.

Chapter Text

Chapter 26

Steve’s POV

I always thought engines had a language of their own. The hum of a carburetor, the grind of gears, the steady tick of pistons, if you knew how to listen, machines told you everything. That’s how I knew something was wrong the second we touched down in the desert. The air was too still, the silence broken only by the faint rattle of military vehicles that weren’t ours.

Fury didn’t give us much, just coordinates, a grainy sat photo, and two words: “Stark. Rescue.”

We piled out of the quinjet into the sand. Pulse (Soda) was already bouncing in place, dust kicking up around his boots. Atlas (Darry) squinted against the glare, a mountain carved out of sunlight. Reckless (Dally) cracked his neck like he was daring the desert to throw a punch. Ash’s (Johnny) hands smoldered faintly, smoke curling like the desert heat. Jokester (Two-Bit) smirked as if he’d just been waiting for a good excuse to crack wise.

And Mindlight (Pony)? His eyes glowed faintly, emotions shimmering around us like threads. He didn’t even speak before I caught it, a cocktail of fear, pain, and stubborn defiance coming from somewhere nearby. Stark.

“Breaker (Steve),” Darry barked. “Direction.”

I knelt, palm pressed against the sand, and reached. The desert floor whispered back, engines idling under strain, not military-grade, not maintained like they should be. Trucks. Old, patched together with stolen parts. And beneath it all, the faint rhythm of something else, metal scraping against rock, improvised machinery straining to stay alive.

“He’s underground,” I said. “And they’ve got toys they shouldn’t have.”

“Then let’s crash the party,” Dally muttered, rolling his shoulders.

The Ten Rings camp was dug into the cliffs, trucks and weapons scattered around like a junkyard’s fever dream. We slipped in under the cover of Jokester’s (Two-Bit) insane luck, a guard tripped on nothing at all right when he might’ve spotted us. Another sneezed loud enough to cover Pulse’s (Soda) blur as he yanked two rifles out of their hands before they knew they’d been robbed.

Inside the cave, that’s when I felt it. A heartbeat of machinery out of place, the bones of an engine being bent into something it was never meant to be. I followed it down the stone halls, the others trailing close.

And there he was. Tony Stark. Thin, ragged, eyes sharp even in chains. And behind him-

My heart skipped. An arc reactor, glowing faint blue, was wired into a suit of armor that looked like a walking furnace. Rough, brutal, welded together out of scraps. But it breathed. It worked.

“Hell,” I muttered. “He built himself a tank in a cave.”

Soda whistled.

“Guy’s either crazy or brilliant,” Soda mumbled.

“Both,” Tony croaked, glancing up at us. “ And who the hell are you supposed to be? The circus?”

“Rescue detail,” Darry said flatly, stepping in to snap his chains like they were twine.

Of course, it didn’t go clean. It never does. Guards poured in before Stark could even get his suit fully primed. Dally took point, soaking bullets like rain, every hit making him glow hotter. Ash ignited the air, his cloak of embers choking the guards in smoke and panic.

“This thing isn’t meant to last!” Stark barked, struggling into his armor. “Help me keep it together!”

“I’ve got this,” I yelled out.

I reached out, every gear, every bolt, every struggling piston singing to me. I held it in place, tightened seams with my mind, kept fuel flowing where it wanted to choke. The suit roared to life, steam hissing. Stark stumbled, but it moved.

The cave shook as he fired the first shot, flames ripping the walls apart. Pulse (Soda) darted through the chaos, pulling Stark toward daylight faster than his clunky armor could drag him. Atlas (Darry) lifted a truck and threw it across the path of reinforcements. Mindlight (Pony) blinded them with a shield of raw brilliance. Jokester (Two-Bit)? He just laughed, bullets missing him by miles, ricocheting into their own men.

We blew out of that cave like a storm. Stark’s suit barely made it past the dunes before collapsing in a heap of broken metal. He crawled out, chest reactor glowing, eyes wild with the rush of survival.

“Not bad,” Tony gasped, looking us over. “You guys are a band or something?”

“Yeah,” Two-Bit grinned. “The Strays. We take requests.”

“Wait,” Tony said with an inquisitive look. “That sounds familiar. From one of my father’s stories.”

“That’s because we worked with your father during WWII,” I quipped. “With Captain America and Agent Carter as well.”

Tony looked at us with a smirk.

“Didn’t you guys do other things in the ’60s as well?” Tony asked.

“You caught us,” Dally said. “We did some missions against HYDRA and Dr. Vex in the ’60s and the ’80s, as well as some underground work in the ’90s.”

“How come you guys aren’t dead yet and look like you haven’t aged?” Tony asked skeptically.

“That’s the Tesseract for you,” Pony said. “Keeps us the same forever and gave us our powers.”

“That kind of explains things,” Tony muttered. “But who sent you here?”

“SHIELD and Nick Fury,” Darry explained. “So we need to get moving. Before more of those flunkies keep coming.”

“But where have you guys been since the ‘90s?” Tony spluttered.

“Let’s just say we’re SHIELD's kept secret until something major happens,” Johnny said. “Like you getting kidnapped. What is that suit you created and the arc reactor?”

“Let’s just say that those thugs wanted me to create some tech for them to combat the warheads my company created,” Tony said.

“Figures,” Soda said. “They wanted to fight fire with fire. But I don’t want to stick around long enough to see if they were able to rescue anything in the rubble of what we left behind. So let's get going, Mr. Stark.”

We escorted Tony to a Quinjet that was waiting for us.

“How the hell did you get this?” Tony asked.

“Like we said,” I said, annoyed. “We work for SHIELD.”

“Why should I believe you?” Tony asked as we got strapped in.

“We saved you, didn’t we, you brat,” Dally sneered.

“I guess, but shouldn’t I know your names?” Tony snapped back.

Darry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m Darry,” Darry said reluctantly. “Code name Atlas.”

Darry started going down the line, pointing at each person.

“That’s Steve, code name Breaker, Two-Bit, code name Jokester, my middle brother Soda, code name Pulse, my youngest brother Pony, code name Mindlight, that’s Dally, code name Reckless, and last but not least Johnny, code name Ash,” Darry said. “Collectively, like we mentioned earlier, we call ourselves The Strays.”

“Catchy,” Tony said. “So you really got your powers from the Tesseract? My dad told me how dangerous and powerful that thing is.”

“Yeah,” Pony said. “Trust us. It’s a long story. And the Tesseract can be dangerous in the wrong hands. Just like your arc reactor.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully.

“We need to tell Fury we got Stark here in one piece,” Johnny said. “You'd better call Darry.”

Darry nodded and started to call Fury over our SHIELD-issued iPhones.

“I still can’t believe there are smartphones now,” Two-Bit said. “I wonder what’s next.”

“You better not get into any trouble with this thing,” I groaned.

“It’ll probably be some harmless pranks,” Soda said with some reassurance.

I gave him a look that said I really didn’t buy it.

Soon enough, we landed back in the U.S., and we were greeted on the tarmac by three people eagerly awaiting Tony and some military personnel.

“Who is the hot lady?” Dally asked with a smirk.

Darry wacked Dally on the back of his head.

“Keep it professional, please,” Darry snapped.

“This is Pepper Potts,” Tony introduced us. “She’s my assistant. Here is my best friend, Colonel James Rhodes, and my driver, Happy Hogan.”

We shook their hands.

“Nice to meet you all,” Pony said quietly.

“Thanks for helping us get Tony back home in one piece,” Pepper said gratefully. “We need to take you to the hospital.”

“No way,” Tony said. “These guys made sure I’m fine. They can go on their way, and I can go home.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“I think you’re stuck with us,” Two-Bit said. “Fury wants to babysit your ass.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Tony balked.

“You bet your ass you do,” I quipped.

“I agree with them on this one,” Rhodes said. “Just to be on the safe side in case those guys who kidnapped you come back.”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled. “But you better not get in my way.”

“We can’t promise anything,” Johnny said quietly. “But we’ll do our best.”

Tony nodded.

“We’ll follow behind you in our car,” Soda said, gesturing to our SHIELD-issued car that was waiting for us.

I was walking towards the driver's side, but Darry beat me to it.

“Let me handle this one, Steve,” Darry said.

I scowled at him.

We finally reached the outside of Stark Tower, where a man in a suit surrounded by a crowd and media was waiting.

“Great,” Dally snapped. “Just what we needed.”

“I don’t know,” Two-Bit said with a grin. “I kind of like the attention.”

“This is going to be a circus, so we'd better be ready,” Pony said nervously.

As soon as we got out of the car behind Tony, the whole crowd went wild.

“Welcome home, Tony,” The man in the pinstripe suit said.

“Obadiah,” Tony said. “Nice to meet you. I would like you to introduce my friends.”

Tony gestured towards us.

A flash of recognition crossed Obadiah’s face. He turned towards the crowd.

“Everyone, please welcome back Mr. Stark and his friends and rescuers, The Strays,” Obadiah boomed.

The cameras started to flash, and murmurs.

“I thought they were just legends,” one reporter said.

“So they really don’t age,” another said.

“Why are they here?” One asked.

“Great,” Johnny mumbled. “More attention.”

When we got inside, I saw Pepper talking with Coulson.

“At least we see a familiar face,” Soda said as we nodded at Coulson.

“Let’s just hope that no Skrulls are lurking about this time,” I muttered.

“You and me both,” Darry agreed.

We stood on guard as Tony went up in front of the cameras to give a speech at Obadiah’s side.

“I know that look,” Darry murmured. “I see it on Pony’s face all the time when he gets overwhelmed in crowds.”

I suddenly saw that on Tony’s face when Obadiah dragged him in front of the crowds.

“This is bound to get messy,” Dally grumbled. “So let’s get prepared.”

“I hate guys like Obadiah,” Johnny murmured. “They always have a secret agenda.”

“That just means that we need to have luck on our side,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “Which we do.”

“And to get a file on Obadiah Stane,” Pony said. “That way we can stay ahead of the game.”

“Well said, kid,” I muttered. “Well said.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 27

Dally’s POV

I booted up my fancy schmancy new iPhone and pushed the button to call Nick Fury.

It was still weird not to have to dial an actual number and just click on a contact.

After a few rings, Nick Fury finally picked up.

“Reckless (Dally),” Fury said when he picked up. “What can I do for you? Stark hasn’t gotten into any trouble yet again?”

“Not yet,” I grumbled. “But I don’t like this Obadiah Stane character. The others feel the same. Would you be able to have your tech wizards put together a file on any information you can find on him?”

“You sure you want to do this?” Fury asked. “Stane is a pretty powerful figure. If he finds out what you’re up to, you’ll have a pretty powerful enemy.”

“I’m sure,” I grunted. “There’s something not right about him. He was a little too eager to put Tony in front of the cameras. But that all went to hell when Tony spouted off what he did.”

Fury sighed.

“The market analysts didn’t seem to like it either,” Fury muttered. “But I’ll get the agents on that file and send it over to you guys at Stark Tower. Stay on Tony’s tail. No matter what.”

“You’ve got it, Fury,” I muttered as I hung up.

“Is Fury sending over the file on Stane?” Darry asked.

“Yep,” I said. “He’ll be sending it over, but we have to be careful because of who he has in his pocket.”

“Figures,” Steve grumbled. “Another Soc. I thought we left those back in Tulsa.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“Tough luck there, Stevie,” Two-Bit said. “We’ll never escape those damn Socs.”

“Speaking of which,” Johnny said. “Let’s go see what that Playboy is doing.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Soda said as we walked up to Pepper in Tony’s condo. “Where is Stark?”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“It’s Pepper to you,” Pepper snapped. “And he’s in his lab downstairs. I’ll get you through the door since he needs my help with something.”

“Why is this dude so helpless?” Pony muttered.

“You’re one to talk,” I muttered.

Pony scowled at me.

We followed Pepper down a set of stairs to a glass door.

“Finally,” Tony called from what looked like an exam table. “What took you so long?”

Pepper cleared her throat.

“We have some company,” Pepper said, gesturing toward us.

“I thought I told you guys I was fine,” Tony grumbled.

“Apparently not, according to SHIELD standards,” Darry said, eyes trailing to the arc reactor in Tony’s chest. “Especially with that thing keeping you alive.”

“That’s actually kind of cool,” Two-Bit said with wide eyes. “Can I touch?”

Johnny swatted his hand away.

“Remember the last time you wanted to explore something blue and glowing?” Johnny warned.

Two-Bit blushed.

“What do you need help with?” Pepper asked nervously.

“I’m trying to swap the arc reactor out for an upgrade, and I need small and nimble fingers,” Pepper said.

“I can help,” Pony offered.

“I’m not having a 16-year-old stick his grubby fingers in my chest,” Tony muttered.

“He’s actually 57,” Soda said with a smirk. “But in a 16-year-old's body. Because we don’t age.”

“The answer is still no,” Tony said, eyes narrowing.

“Probably a good call,” Steve said with a smirk.

Pony stuck his tongue out at him.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Pepper asked.

“Well, I need this upgrade,” Tony said. “So it needs to be done.”

Pepper hesitantly took the arc reactor into her hands.

“I don’t like this,” Pepper said. “I can’t do this.”

“You can do this,” Tony said reassuringly. “I trust you.”

Pepper nodded reluctantly.

“Here goes nothing,” Pepper said, sticking her hand in his chest hole.

“This is so gross,” Pepper said, turning her face up in disgust. “It’s all gooey.”

“Is this what it feels like when you’re changing oil in a car?” Pony teased Steve.

“Probably,” Steve said. “But I don’t find it gross, brat.”

“Would you two cut it out?” Darry asked, rolling his eyes.

“No, let them do it,” Tony said. “It’s entertaining. Also, it’s a distraction.”

“See, Dar,” Soda said with a grin. “We’re a good distraction.”

“Is that what you say about the girls at work?” I teased.

Soda stuck his tongue at me. I rolled my eyes.

Just as Tony was finishing up getting his arc reactor changed, my phone pinged.

I pulled it out of my uniform’s pocket and looked at the notification. It was from SHIELD.

I had to put my badge number into the email to unlock my email and the file.

“Should we take a look at it?” Johnny asked nervously.

“Not in front of Tony or Pepper,” Darry said quietly. “We don’t know if we can trust.”

Before we could do anything, Tony got off the table.

“Come on, guys,” Tony said. “Since you guys won’t leave me alone and are on babysitting duty, we’re going to go see Mr. Rhodes.”

“Let’s do this tonight,” Steve muttered. “When everyone is asleep.”

I nodded in agreement as we followed Tony out of his apartment.

We followed Tony in our car to an air force base and flashed our badges to get inside.

“Are we really supposed to be here?” Pony asked nervously.

“Since my company provides materials for the military,” Tony explained. “They let me in with no problem. Plus, Rhodey is my friend.”

“Do all of your friends come with perks?” Soda teased.

Tony smirked.

“Some do,” Tony said.

Rhodes was showing some of the planes to some other soldiers. But when he saw us with Tony, he dismissed them.

“What brings you by?” Rhodes asked with a grin. “I highly doubt this is a social call. Don’t tell me it’s about that stunt you pulled at the press conference. Because it wasn’t cute.”

“But, it needs to be done,” Tony said. “If you would just listen…”

Rhodes cut him off with a look.

“You'd better get your mind back in order,” Rhodes said in warning. “Or you’ll make some big enemies. Just make sure you keep your military bodyguards.”

“He seems like a douche,” I muttered as Rhodes walked away.

“File on him, too?” Johnny asked.

“Probably,” Darry muttered. “I’ll send Fury a text.”

“So what’s the game plan now, big guy?” Two-Bit asked Tony as we walked back to the cars.

“I’ve got a machine to build,” Tony said darkly. “One that can do good when it’s in the right hands.”

“Hopefully this won’t blow up in our faces,” Steve muttered.

“I have a feeling it will,” I said darkly.

Soon enough, we were back in Stark’s home lab as he was putting together an iron suit and talking to his virtual assistant.

“Why do I have a feeling that we are heading towards a world where AI will take over with evil robots?” Pony said nervously.

“Because we probably are,” Soda said. “Which I’m not looking forward to.”

“Not if we use the tech wisely,” Tony said.

“But that’s not guaranteed,” Steve snapped back.

“With our luck, it will be,” Two-Bit said.

“Like Steve said,” Johnny repeated. “It’s not guaranteed.”

As Tony started working on his suit, we started sifting through the files we had on Rhodes and Stane.

“Stane seems a little shady,” Darry muttered. “But who isn’t?”

“But there are some parts here that are a little too clean,” I said. “Like it has been whipped.”

All of a sudden, there was a crash as Tony crashed his first test run.

“Oof,” Pony said with a wince. “It looks like today is going to be a painful day of test runs.”

“At least it will keep him distracted while we focus on this,” Soda said with a smirk. “And him out of trouble.”

“Do you guys ever have any fun?” Tony called over to us.

“We used to,” Two-Bit said. “But last time I got these guys to do something fun, let's just say it kind of blew up in our faces.”

“Well,” Tony said. “You guys need to learn how to get back there again. Sometimes having fun comes with a little hurt.”

I rolled my eyes as we started to pore over Rhode’s file.

“Just some awards and just some small stuff from when he was a kid,” Steve muttered. “Nothing too eye-catching.”

“Let’s just keep an eye on him,” Darry said cautiously. “He could just be upset about what Tony said because he’s military.”

I was about to say something, but then Pepper came in carrying some coffee.

“Tony,” Pepper called. “Didn’t you hear me calling? Obadaiah is here to talk with you.”

Everyone in our group looked at each other grimly.

“This can’t be good,” Pony said.

“I have a bad feeling about this, too,” Johnny said. “Let’s keep our guards up.”

We followed Tony and Pepper upstairs to talk with Obadaiah, who was eerily playing the piano.

“How did it go with the board of directors?” Tony asked.

Tony glanced at the pizza and sighed.

“It didn’t go well, huh?” Tony said. “I thought you had it handled.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” Obadiah said. “But the board didn’t like your press conference stunt. They also think you have PTSD from your kidnapping. The stock took a dip. They want to block you out.”
Tony scuffed.

“They knew it was going to do that,” Tony said. “Plus, I’m being responsible.”

“Sure he is,” I mumbled under my breath.

Obadiah shot Tony a look.

“Whatever,” Tony said, getting up and grabbing the pizza. “I’m going back down to the lab. Come on, babysitters.”

“Sorry about him,” Soda said with a small smile. “You know how he can get.”

Obadiah waved us away.

“Just keep him in line,” Obadiah mumbled as he turned back to Pepper.

Chapter Text

Chapter 28

Johnny’s POV

Tony went back to testing his new and improved armor.

“You sure this is safe to do, Tony?” I asked, wincing as Tony was trying to get a handle on the boosters.

“It’s perfectly safe, squirt,” Tony said with a smirk. “Just need to get a handle on it. Plus, we have Jarvis. You won’t let anything happen to me, right, Jarvis?”

“Right, sir,” Jarvis said.

“Because that ain’t creepy at all,” Dally muttered.

“Something you and I can agree upon,” Steve said. “Wait until we get self-driving cars.”

“Like hell I would get one,” Darry said.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Soda teased. “You wouldn’t give up on control.”

Our little petty argument was interrupted by Two-Bit’s wolf whistle.

“That’s one fancy-schmancy suit you built yourself, Mr. Stark,” Two-Bit said with eyes wide in awe.

We all turned to face Tony, who was in a metal suit and was way better than the one we found him using in the desert.

“That is so cool,” Pony said. “Can I touch?”

Pony walked forward in a touch.

Darry held him back.

“Don’t touch,” Darry chided. “Like a museum.”

Tony laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Tony said with a smirk as he lifted his mask. “I see the big brother instincts haven’t lost their touch.”

Darry scoweled.

“Let’s test those insects as I take this baby for a joy ride,” Tony said.

With that, he blasted out of the house and into the sky and took off.

“Shit,” Dally said. “We can’t have Fury on our asses.”

“Where do you think he’s going?” Steve asked as he tossed Darry the car keys.

“No clue,” I said. “But we'd better track him.”

Two-Bit smirked as he held up a tracking device.

“Well, at least I inserted a tracking device in his suit,” Two-Bit said.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” Darry muttered. “But Two-Bit, you are a genius.”

With that, we got in the car and drove around town following Tony wherever he went, and finally back to his house.

“I see I wasn’t able to shake your tail,” Tony said with a smirk. “You guys really are good.”

“Let's just say we’ve been around the block a few times,” Pony said. “So don’t test us.”

Tony gave us a look of respect.

“You guys might prove useful,” Tony said, intrigued. “That just means you are coming with me to the Stark gala tonight.”

“The what now?” I said paling. “We don’t have suits.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Tony said with a smirk.

He hit the intercom on the wall.

“Pepper, can you get the suit tailors here ASAP?” Tony said.

“Right away, Tony,” Pepper responded.

“Why do I feel like we’re in for the long haul?” Dally moaned.

“Because we probably are,” Steve grumbled.

“Come on, guys,” Soda said, beaming. “We’re going to a big league Soc party.”

That didn’t make me feel any better. With the look that I shared with Pony, he didn’t either.

Soon enough, Tony had a tailor working on our suits, which Tony later fixed so that they could easily melt away into a compartment in our supersuits in case of need.

“That’s better,” Tony said with a smirk. “You guys clean up nice.”

“We can in a pinch,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

“You all better behave,” Darry chided. “The whole world will be watching.”

“Yes, Dar,” Pony said, rolling his eyes. “You know we always try our best.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Darry quipped.

Soda stepped in between them.

“Both of you cool down,” Soda warned. “We’re a team, remember?”

Darry and Pony both nodded.

Soon, we were pulling up to the gala with Tony in a black limo.

The cameras were flashing like crazy. It looked like a circus.

“Let the circus begin,” I muttered.

“Come on, guys,” Tony said cheekily. “Enjoy the free press and food.”

“Did you say free food?” Two-Bit said, eyes lighting up.

“You and your food,” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“How about you and your chocolate cake?” Dally rebuked him.

Pony took a deep breath as we stepped out of the car after Tony.

“Here goes nothing,” Pony muttered.

Soda squeezed his shoulder.

“We’ve got this baby brother,” Soda murmured.

We all clocked Obadiah Stane talking to a reporter.

“Let’s keep an eye on him and Rhodes if he’s here,” Darry murmured. “Just in case.”

We all nodded in agreement.

“All code names tonight, too,” Darry continued.

“Strays, Strays!” Reporters called on us.

“How do you know Mr. Stark?” Another called.

“Smile over here!” Another called.

“It’s nice to see you, Tony,” Obadiah drawled. “And your babysitters.”

Dally sneered at him.

“Asshole,” Dally muttered.

When we followed Tony over to the bar, that’s when we saw Colson again.

“So my babysitters have babysitters too,” Tony teased.

“Watch it, Stark,” Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Breaker,” Coulson said. “Just working a different angle here with our mutual friend.”

“What is that?” I asked nervously.

“Just a partnership between SHIELD and Stark Industries,” Coulson said curtly.

“Didn’t you hear my press conference?” Tony asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Didn’t you hear when I said we’re different?” Colson quipped back. “Also, we need a debrief of what happened in the desert.”

“Well,” Tony said. “Get in touch with Ms. Potts.”

With that, Tony walked over to Pepper to get a dance.

“Well, he’s subtle,” Soda said.

“He’s such a prick,” Darry muttered. “Kind of reminds me of Paul. I wonder what he’s up to?”

“Don’t tell me you still think about him,” Pony moaned. “You deserved better friends anyway.”
“Or was he more than a friend?” Two-Bit teased.

Darry looked like he was going to blow.

“Jokester,” I warned. “Not now.”

Soon, we saw a reporter come up to Tony with a batch of photos.

“We need to intervene, guys,” I muttered. “Based on Tony’s reaction, those aren’t good. We have to shut it down.”

“Good catch, Ash,” Dally muttered. “Let’s move. And get him out of here.”

We swooped in.

“Excuse us,” Soda said, working his charm powers. “We need to borrow Mr. Stark here. Name’s Pulse by the way.”

“No problem, doll,” the blond reporter said.

“What the hell was that?” Tony asked. “Never mind. I have to find Stane.”

“That isn’t a good idea,” Steve warned.

“Well, I don’t give a damn, Breaker,” Tony snapped.

“Let’s just go with it,” Two-Bit said. “Luck is on our side anyway.”

Two-Bit flipped his coin. This caused a reporter talking to Stane to drop his camera and drink on Stane, causing a distraction for Tony to get Stane away from the reporters to talk.

Something tipped me over the edge, though, when we heard their conversation.

“Who do you think blocked you out?” Obadiah muttered darkly in Tony’s ear. “I filed the injunction to block you.”

“That snake,” Darry muttered. “We were right all along.”

“You surprised?” Dally asked. “All Socs are alike.”

“But what does he want?” I muttered.

“He’s playing both sides,” Pony said, paling. “He’s the one who got Tony kidnapped. He wants to take the company over.”

“How do you know that?” Two-Bit asked. Then shook his head. “Stupid question. You read his mind. Good going, Mindlight.”

Tony started walking towards the limo in anger.

“Come on, boys,” Tony muttered. “I’ve lost my ability to socialize for tonight.”

“Looks like someone's got their britches in a twist,” Soda muttered darkly.

When we finally got back to Stark Tower, Tony turned on the news and apparently didn’t see what he liked.

He took a hammer to the glass panels in his lab.

“Seems like something Dal would do,” Steve muttered.

Dally growled at him.

“I’ve got some things to do,” Tony muttered. “Follow in your freakin’ Quinn jet.”

“Tony,” Darry said in a warning tone. “Don’t do anything stupid, and you can’t take it back. Especially things that Stane can use as ammo.”

“It’s too late for that,” Tony growled. “I have to expose certain things and hold my ground. So you’re either against me or with me. Which is it?”

“We’re with you, Tony,” Pony said, stepping forward.

“We all are,” Two-Bit said with a nod.

“Here goes nothing,” I muttered. “Another war zone to go to. I thought we left this in WWII. But I guess not.”

Soon enough, we were following Tony in the air, with Darry piloting the Quinjet.

When we got to the desert, Tony started blasting missiles out of the air and saving some of the civilians. Then he went to the base sites where some of the weapons were stored and started blasting them.

“He’s on a rampage,” Dally muttered. “I don’t like this.”

“We have a job to do,” Darry said. “Protect him. So let's do that.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 29

Pony’s POV

I tried reaching into Tony’s mind to help him calm down.

“He doesn’t want to be helped,” I shouted. “After calming him down, his anger just flares up.”

“Nothing can calm him down, Mindlight,” Johnny called. “He wants to do this.”

That’s when I heard it. The military was coming.

“Uh, guys,” I said. “The military is coming in, and he is talking to Rhodes.”

“Shit,” Dally shouted. “We’ve got company. Bring it on!”

We were chasing Tony with our ship.

“Reckless,” Darry warned. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Too late, Atlas,” Steve mumbled.

Dally had already started firing at the military aircraft to help defend Tony.

“Is this what we’re calling protecting the asset now?” Two-Bit asked. “Because this is sick.”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, Jokester,” Darry said. “We’re shooting at the military. We’re going to be doomed.”

“Can it, Atlas,” Dally sneered. “We’re following orders anyway.”

“What the hell are you guys doing!” Rhodes came over our coms.

“Protecting Tony,” Johnny shouted.

“That’s Tony?” Rhodes said.

“Yes,” We said at once.

“Tell the military to stand down,” I said.

“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee anything,” Rhodes said.

“We’ll continue to protect him at all costs,” Steve said. “Breaker out.”

Steve used his powers to cause the military planes to falter and land so that Tony could get out of there.

We finally landed back at Stark Tower.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Darry demanded.

“Relax, Atlas,” Tony chided. “It had to be done.”

“Putting us at odds with the U.S Military?” Johnny said. “That was delusional and reckless. Something Dally would do.”

“Hey,” Dally said, holding up his hands. “Don’t throw me under the bus.”

“You know he’s right, though, right, Dal?” Soda teased.

I just rolled my eyes.

“At least no one got seriously injured,” I muttered. “It could’ve been worse.”

“We just have to figure out who got that Stark machinery to the bad guys,” Two-Bit said. “Hopefully, with my luck, time will be on our side.”

“You can’t do this, Tony,” Pepper said. “This is too dangerous.”

“I’ve got government babysitters with me,” Tony said.

“I can’t do this,” Pepper said. “I’m out.”

“You can’t leave now,” Tony said. “Not when I’m finally doing the right thing.”

Pepper finally took back her badge.

“Fine,” Pepper said. “You win this time, Tony.”

“Way to go, Tony,” Two-Bit teased.

Darry pulled Pepper aside and mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear what, and then passed her a pager.

“What was that?” Soda asked. “Getting your flirt on?”

Darry rolled his eyes.

“No,” Darry mumbled. “I was asking her to get some intel from Obadiah Stane’s laptop. She has an in and can get information. The leak to the bad guys has to be coming from someone high up.”

“It looks like the kid isn’t the only smart one in the family,” Steve teased.

“Hopefully she gets something useful,” Dally grumbled. “We need it.”

After a couple of hours, Pepper came running into the lab.

“It’s him,” Pepper said. “It’s Obadiah. He’s behind all of it.”

“Shit,” I mumbled. “Just shit.”

“Language,” Darry said.

“He’s technically 57, Dar,” Johnny came to my defense.

Then we heard a high-pitched sound coming from upstairs in the living room.

“Tony,” Two-Bit said with wide eyes.

We ran upstairs just in time to see Obadiah trying to get the arc reactor from Tony’s chest.

“Hey,” Soda called. “Sleezebag. Over here.”

Obadiah turned and sneered at us.

“You’re too late,” Obadiah sneered.

Obadiah turned the arc reactor on us and blasted us before we could react. When we came too, he was gone and so was Tony.

That’s when we saw Rhodes hovering over us.

“Where’s Tony?” Dally croaked.

“I don’t know,” Rhodes said. “I just got here and saw you guys on the ground. What happened?”

“Obadiah,” Steve growled. “Tony’s in trouble; he took his arc reactor.”

We all went down to the lab and saw Tony on the floor trying to get to the arc reactor.

I ran over to it and shoved it into Tony’s chest.

Tony gasped awake.

“Thanks, kid,” Tony said, coughing.

“No sweat,” I said. “Now let’s get Stane.”

Tony got into his suit, we got into a Quinjet, and Rhodes got into a car. And off we went.

“I’m going to phone Coulson,” Johnny said. “To let him know what’s going on.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Darry said. “Breaker and Reckles, go to the guns, just in case we get into trouble. Jokester, use that tracker on Tony’s suit just in case we lose him.”

“Roger that, Atlas,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

“Mindlight, Pulse, you’re my co-pilots,” Darry said.

“You’ve got it, big bro,” Soda said with a smirk.

“Coulson’s with Pepper,” Johnny called. “He’s found the suit that Obadiah is trying to build to rival Tony’s.”

“This isn’t good,” I said. “We need to warn Tony.”

“I’ll page him over coms,” Dally called.

“He’s got Pepper,” Dally called back. “And Obadiah is already on the highway in his suit.”

We landed when we saw Obadiah and ran out to meet Tony to fight.

The roar of Iron Monger’s engines rattled the night sky, every metallic stomp shaking the rooftop beneath us. Obadiah’s laugh, mechanical and distorted, echoed through the streets.

“Tony, you think you can build this and not share it?” Stane’s voice boomed. “Now I’m gonna show you what real power looks like!”

I felt Tony’s emotions crash through me like a live wire, panic laced with defiance, a desperate urge to protect Pepper and stop this nightmare he’d built. I pushed against it, sending calm and resolve his way, a light to anchor him.

“You’re not alone, Stark,” I thought at him.

Atlas (Darry) charged first, no hesitation. His fists hammered into Iron Monger’s knee joint like wrecking balls, denting armor that looked unbreakable. Stane swatted him aside with a steel arm, but Darry rolled up, unhurt.

“That all you got, tin man?” Stane barked.

Breaker (Steve) lifted his hands, gears and engines humming all around. I saw Iron Monger’s right arm twitch, servos fighting Steve’s pull. Sparks rained down as Stane growled, forcing the arm back under his control.

“Pulse (Soda), now!” Steve shouted.

Soda blurred past, a streak of motion too quick for Stane’s targeting systems. He zipped up a scaffolding, a grin flashing hypnotic even in the chaos.

“C’mon, big ugly, eyes on me!” Soda teased. For a second, Iron Monger’s systems lagged, aggression faltering against Soda’s aura.

That second was all Johnny needed. Ash cloaked him, fire bursting from his hands. He slammed a burning wave into Monger’s back, flames crawling up the armor.

“Feel the heat, bastard!” Johnny roared.

Stane roared, systems compensating, vents blasting to douse the fire.

Beside me, Jokester (Two-Bit) laughed like this was the best prank he’d ever pulled. He tossed a length of rebar onto the ground just as Stane stomped down, slipping the massive machine a step.

“What’d I say, folks?” Two-Bit teased. “Man can build a suit but can’t watch his step!”

The thing lurched, balance gone. Reckless (Dally) didn’t miss his chance. He hurled himself into Monger’s chest, taking the brunt of the blast from its repulsor cannon. The energy lit him up, veins glowing as he absorbed it, and with a feral grin, he slammed the power back, fists detonating against Stane’s armor in a thunderclap of force.

I raised my hands, light spilling out, forming a shield around Pepper as she worked at the controls below. Her fear was sharp in my chest, but I pushed reassurance into her.

“We’ve got this,” I thought at her. “You’re safe.

Then Tony staggered forward in the Mark III, battered but standing.

“Stane!” Tony roared. “This ends tonight!”

“Then let’s finish it!” Stane shouted back.

Iron Monger lunged for him, but we surged together, Atlas (Darry) driving him back with sheer muscle, Ash’s (Johnny) fire streaming into joints, Breaker (Steve) forcing the servos to lock, Pulse (Soda) darting in blinding circles, Reckless (Dally) hammering with stolen energy, Jokester’s (Two-Bit) chaos tipping every exchange. And me, light cutting through the night, bending Stane’s fear into confusion, buying seconds Tony desperately needed.

“Pepper!” Tony’s voice cut sharply. “Overload the arc reactor, now!”

I felt the spike of panic in her heart, the decision that could kill them all. I steadied her, sending trust and courage into her chest. She slammed her hand down.

The world split open in light.

The rooftop shuddered as the arc reactor blew, a column of energy ripping upward, swallowing Iron Monger whole. Stane’s scream was lost in the explosion.

When the light faded, the suit was gone, just twisted scraps raining down.

We stood in the silence, bruised, burned, shaken. Tony sagged, helmet dented, armor sparking. I staggered closer and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re not alone in this fight, Stark,” I whispered, both in words and mind.

His gaze met mine through the mask’s cracked eye slit. And for the first time, I felt it, Tony Stark believing it.

The smoke from the arc reactor drifted over the city, heavy and metallic. My lungs burned as I pulled in a shaky breath, letting the last of my light shield flicker out. The team spread out across the rooftop, catching their bearings.

Johnny was crouched low, ash still curling off his shoulders like wings, his face pale but steady. Soda stood beside him, not even winded, a cocky smirk tugging his lips like this had been some wild joyride. Two-Bit leaned on a bent railing, bleeding from his temple but laughing anyway. Dally paced like a caged lion, still buzzing from the energy he’d absorbed, fists clenching with leftover sparks. Darry loomed, shoulders squared, calm but watchful. Steve had both hands raised, making sure none of the twisted wreckage tried to spark back to life.

Me? I was trying to hold us all together, patching over fear, exhaustion, grief, pride, every emotion bleeding across the rooftop.

And then there was Tony. He collapsed against the edge of the platform, armor hissing, sparking. For a second, I felt something from him I hadn’t before, relief. Like maybe, for once, he didn’t have to carry it all alone.

Pepper reached him first, her small hand closing around his gauntlet. He looked at her, and I felt the weight of his gratitude like a tide.

“Tony,” Peper whispered, “you did it.”

“No,” Tony said hoarsely, eyes flicking toward us. “We did it.”

The next day, SHIELD tried spinning the story. “A training exercise,” Coulson had suggested smoothly in the press room, his rehearsed smile hiding the stress lines under his eyes. “A routine equipment malfunction. Nothing more.”

We stood off to the side of the makeshift stage, dressed like regular people for once, though every one of us carried fresh bruises. The air smelled of microphones and hot lights, but the whole place buzzed with reporters like a pack of wolves scenting blood.

Tony walked out in a sharp suit, sunglasses hiding the exhaustion but not the swagger. He set his note cards on the podium and glanced at them once. I felt the nerves twist under his skin, but he buried them with bravado.

“Been a rough couple of days,” Tony started, and the room erupted in laughter. “Some things you can’t really plan for.”

“Like your ex–ex-ex-business partner trying to murder you in a tin can,” Two-Bit muttered.

Soda snickered. Darry shushed them both, but I caught Fury’s faint smirk in the corner of the room.

Tony went on, spinning the cover story, reading Coulson’s lines about “bodyguards” and “malfunctions.” The reporters leaned forward, hungry for blood.

“So what really happened out there, Mr. Stark?” one shouted.

“Was that you in the suit?” Another shouted. “Was that you flying around the city?”

Tony’s hand tightened on the cards. I felt it, his conflict. The easy lie balanced against the truth pressing on his chest. I slipped a thread of empathy out, brushing against him.
“You don’t have to hide, not if you don’t want to,” I thought at him.

He looked down at the cards, then back at the sea of faces. Then he glanced sideways, right at us. His eyes lingered on me, then Darry, then Johnny, then all of us in turn.
And then he smiled.

“The truth is…” Tony paused, the entire room hanging in the silence. “…I am Iron Man.”

The place erupted, shouts, cameras flashing, reporters nearly climbing over each other.

Beside me, Two-Bit burst out laughing.

“Oh, he’s dead,” Two-Bit chuckled. “He’s so dead. SHIELD’s gonna kill him!”

Dally barked a laugh, smacking the railing.

“Takes guts to throw the rulebook in the fire like that,” Dally said. “I like him.”

Soda grinned, shaking his head.

“Man just painted a target the size of Texas on himself,” Soda said.

Darry groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And on us, by association,” Darry said, pinching his nose.

I just stared at Tony as the room went wild, feeling the wave of pride rolling off him. For the first time, he wasn’t running. He wasn’t hiding. He was standing in the light, his light.

And I knew, deep down, this was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 30

Soda’s POV

The second Tony dropped the words, “I am Iron Man,” the world spun sideways. Cameras flashed like fireworks, reporters clawed over each other, and the air thickened with noise and chaos.
I should’ve been surprised, but really? It was Tony. Of course, he’d blow Coulson’s neat little cover story to pieces. Lying didn’t suit him, not when he had a billion-dollar grin and a suit of armor that made him feel ten feet tall.

SHIELD didn’t see it that way.

By the time we were out of the press room, Coulson was pale as a ghost and muttering curses that’d make even Dally raise an eyebrow. Peggy Carter, still sharp, even with years behind her, pinched the bridge of her nose like she’d aged a decade in the last two minutes. And Fury… Fury just stared, unreadable, that one good eye taking in all of us like pieces on a chessboard; he was already moving.
“Well,” Two-Bit said, clapping his hands together with a grin that screamed I told you so. “Guess the cat’s not just outta the bag. It’s juggling chainsaws on live TV.”

“Shut it, Two-Bit,” Darry snapped, his jaw tight. He turned toward Fury. “What’s the damage?”

“The damage,” Fury said slowly, “is every hostile government, arms dealer, terrorist cell, and opportunistic villain just got handed a new target. Stark made himself the bullseye. And you-” His gaze swept over us, like a weight settling on my shoulders. “By extension, you’re the circle around it.”

Dally barked a laugh.

“Bring ‘em,” Dally said. “I could use the workout.”

Johnny shot him a glare.

“This isn’t funny, Dal,” Johnny said. He still had soot smudged across his cheek from the fight. “People are gonna come after us, too.”

I slid my hands into my pockets, forcing a lazy grin. My charm field hummed, smoothing out the tension in the room.

“C’mon, it ain’t all bad,” I said. “Tony Stark just made superheroes cool again. We’ve been ghosts in SHIELD’s basement long enough. Maybe it’s time we stopped pretending we’re just a rumor.”

“Cool?” I asked.

Steve arched a brow.

“Cool is fine until your face is on every news channel in the world,” Steve grumbled. “You really want your speed clocked by the Pentagon, Soda?”

I tilted my head, my smile never faltering.

“They couldn’t catch me even if they tried,” I said.

Ponyboy shifted next to me, quiet, but I felt him ripple through the room, his empathy nudging at the edges of everyone’s storm.

“He means it,” Pony whispered. “Tony doesn’t want to hide. Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t either.”

Fury tapped the table sharply, pulling all eyes back to him.

“This isn’t a debate,” Fury said. “Stark just redrew the lines, and the world’s about to change. You boys wanted to play in the shadows, fine. But now? Every step you take from this point on, people will be watching. Governments. Enemies. Allies. You’re not just the Strays anymore.”

“What are we then?” I asked, leaning against the wall, keeping it light even though I felt the weight under his words.

Fury’s mouth curled, the faintest edge of a grin.

“You’re part of something bigger,” Fury told us. “And whether you like it or not, the game just moved to the next level.”

Beside me, Two-Bit whistled low. Darry crossed his arms, already bracing for the responsibility speech none of us wanted but all of us needed. Dally cracked his knuckles like he was itching for the fight Fury promised was coming. Johnny’s eyes burned, ash still simmering faintly. Steve frowned, wheels already turning in that mechanic brain of his. Pony looked thoughtful, like he could already feel the tide of history shifting under us.

Me? I just grinned wider, because deep down I knew Fury was right. Tony Stark had just lit the fuse.

And the Strays? We were about to see how bright the explosion would burn.

Time’s a funny thing. You think two years is forever, but blink, and suddenly the whole world’s got “superheroes” on their minds. And us? We had front-row seats while everything shifted.

2008, after Iron Man…

After Tony’s little “I am Iron Man” showstopper, SHIELD kept us on a tight leash. Fury called it “strategic positioning.” Darry called it “babysitting.” Dally called it “bull.”

We weren’t ghosts anymore. The press sniffed around us more than once, digging into strange sightings, mysterious saves. But SHIELD had ways of burying stories before they caught fire. Still, it was harder to stay hidden when Stark Industries was making headlines every day.

One night, sitting on the hood of Steve’s rebuilt Mustang, Two-Bit grinned at me, beer in hand.

“So what happens when the world finds out there’s more than one Stark out there?: Two-Bit asked. “‘Cause we ain’t just sidekicks, Soda. We’re the whole circus.”

“Maybe,” I said, spinning a wrench I’d borrowed from Steve. “Or maybe we’re still the shadows. Tony likes the spotlight. Let him fry under it.”

Steve muttered from the driver’s seat, tinkering with something under the dash without even looking up.

“Spotlight doesn’t change the target,” Steve said. “We’re all in it now, whether you like it or not. At least they don’t know our true identities. They just know the code names.”

2009…in the field…

SHIELD didn’t sit on us long. Missions cropped up. Quick strikes, cleanup ops, pulling civilians out of messes Stark’s enemies stirred up. Not glamorous, not public, but necessary.

Johnny was stronger than ever, his flames controlled and precise. I still caught him staring at his hands after fights, though, like he was afraid of what they could do if he slipped.

Darry kept us grounded. Every mission ended with one of his “choices have consequences” talks. Dally hated it, but even he listened in his own way.

And Pony? Pony wasn’t the kid tagging along anymore, even though he still looked 16; we all still looked like kids. He was sharper, steadier, and the way his empathy cut through missions, calming civilians, disorienting enemies, it gave us an edge. Sometimes I felt his light in my chest when things got bad, like he was stitching us all together in real time.

We saved people. We fought things most folks would never believe. But we did it in the shadows, because SHIELD wasn’t ready to show the Strays to the world. Not yet.

Early 2010…

Tony was still loud. Louder than ever. His suits got sleeker, flashier. His ego… well, that didn’t shrink. But behind the jokes, I saw cracks.

The few times SHIELD let us near him, I noticed how pale he looked under the glow of his arc reactor.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Johnny whispered. And Pony just nodded, silent, like he could feel it too.

I knew better than to press. Stark wasn’t the type to spill. But something in me itched, like watching a car rev into the red and waiting for the engine to blow.

May 2010…

The call came through late, Fury’s voice clipped.

“Pulse,” Fury said. “Round up your team. Stark’s spiraling, and there’s more on the horizon than he can handle alone. We’ll brief you en route.”

I leaned back against the wall of our safehouse, phone pressed to my ear, grinning despite the tension already twisting in my gut.

“So what’s it this time, Fury?” I asked. “A bigger spotlight? A bigger mess?”

There was a pause.

“Both,” Fury said.

I hung up, turned to the guys, all staring at me expectantly.

“Well, boys,” I said, flashing a grin that carried just enough charm to take the edge off. “Looks like we’re heading back into Tony Stark’s circus. And something tells me this act’s gonna make the first look like practice.”

Two-Bit whooped. Johnny’s flames flickered at his fingertips. Darry groaned. Steve muttered about spare parts. Pony’s eyes glowed faintly. Dally cracked his knuckles, smirking.

Me? My pulse kicked up, faster than ever.

Showtime.

The thing about Tony Stark? He never does anything quietly.

You’d think nearly dying in a cave and outing himself as Iron Man would slow him down. Nope. Two years later, he’s still louder than a drag race on a Friday night, and now the whole U.S. government’s in on it.

The Senate Hearing…

We were in the shadows for this one. SHIELD didn’t want “the Strays” sitting front row while Stark ran his mouth at Senator Stern. But Fury slipped us in the back, disguised like extras at a bad high school play.

Tony stood there at the table, cocky grin in place, arc reactor glowing like a spotlight on his chest. Stern hammered him about handing over the suit. Tony leaned in, smooth as ever.
“You want my property?” Tony said. “You can’t have it.”

The crowd laughed. We didn’t.

From where I sat, I could see it, the faint tremor in his hand as he adjusted his tie, the slight pallor under the California tan. He looked like a man burning the candle at both ends.

I nudged Pony.

“He’s worse, ain’t he?” I whispered.

Pony’s eyes glowed faintly, his voice low.

“He’s scared, but he’s hiding it,” Pony responds. “His body feels… poisoned.”

That chilled me. But before I could press, Stern sputtered, and Tony wrapped the whole thing up.

“I have successfully privatized world peace,” Tony said.

The applause was deafening. But behind it, I swear I could hear his heartbeat stuttering.

A week later, we crossed paths with him at a Stark expo after-party. Glitz, lights, cameras, all the stuff we hated. We stuck to the edge of the room while Tony basked in it.

Except it wasn’t basking. It was drowning.
He downed drinks faster than even Dally on a bad day. He smiled widely, but his eyes were glassy. When a reporter asked about the arc reactor, he brushed it off with a joke.

But I caught the way his hand lingered over it, like he was checking to see if it was still working.

“Guy’s circling the drain,” Dally muttered.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to force a grin anyway. “But damn if he doesn’t make it look stylish.”

Two-Bit clinked his glass against mine.

“Stylish, suicidal, same difference in his book,” Two-Bit said grimly.

It came to a head when Fury brought us in. Said Stark was slipping, and we had to be on the leash again. Darry hated that phrasing.

“We’re not babysitters,” Darry growled. But he still came.

We found Stark in his workshop, holograms flickering, Iron Man suits half-assembled around him. He looked like hell, with bloodshot eyes, stubble, and hands shaking as he worked.

“Pulse!” Tony barked when he saw me. “Bring the peanut gallery, too, huh? What is this, an intervention?”

“Maybe it should be,” I shot back. “You’re burning out, Stark. We can see it.”

He scoffed, waving a hand.

“I’m fine,” Tony said. “Just fine. World’s safer than ever, thanks to me.”

Pony’s voice cut through, calm but sharp.

“You’re dying,’ Pony deadpanned.

The room went dead quiet.

Tony froze, eyes narrowing.

“That’s cute, kid,” Tony sneered. Mind reader now?”

Pony didn’t flinch.

“I’ve always been, and you know it. You don’t have to say it,” Pony said. “I can feel it. The palladium in your reactor is poisoning you.”

Tony’s mask slipped then, just for a second. The fear was real, raw, before he hid it behind a smirk.

“And here I thought I was hiding it well,” Tony drawled.

Darry stepped forward, voice hard.

“You don’t want help, fine,” Darry said dangerously low. “But don’t drag the whole damn world down with you while you play god.”

That earned a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“I am god when it comes to this tech, Atlas,” Tony snapped. “Without me, you’re all back to rocks and sticks.”

We didn’t fight him, not with fists, anyway. But the lines were drawn that night. Stark wasn’t our ally anymore, not really. He was a storm, and we were caught in it.

And I’ll admit, part of me liked it. The chaos, the adrenaline, the sense that at any second, everything could fall apart.

Thing was, it would.

And when it did, the Strays would be right there in the middle of it, whether Tony wanted us or not.

We went upstairs to defuse before we could make things worse.

“Is he still bad?” Pepper asked us nervously.

“How long has he been like this?” Johnny asked.

“I’m not sure,” Pepper said with a sigh. “He’s been spiraling lately. No one can get to him. I was hoping you guys could. I’m guessing SHIELD was too.”

“More like they want us to babysit him again,” Two-Bit said with a chuckle.

“I still hate that term,” Darry grumbled.

“You and me both,” Dally said. “I don’t babysit.”

That’s when Tony came upstairs.

“I see you guys are still here,” Tony drawled. “Since you guys are forced to babysit me again, you’re coming with me to the boxing gym."

My eyes lit up.

“Now we’re talking,” I said giddily.

“Of course you would like this,” Pony groaned. “But it’s so stupid. And stinky.”

Pony wrinkled up his nose.

“At least it’s something non-life-threatening,” Steve muttered.

“Don’t jinx it,” Johnny said nervously.

“Relax,” Two-Bit said. “You forget that I have the power of luck.”

We followed Tony to the boxing gym where Happy was waiting for him.

“Hey, Happy,” Dally said. “Nice to see you again.”

“Wish it was under better circumstances, though,” Happy said, nodding.

Tony circled Happy with his usual cocky grin.

“Come on, Hap, don’t hold back on me,” Tony teased. “I can take it.”

Happy threw a jab, Tony ducked, then threw a weak counterpunch that wouldn’t have knocked over Two-Bit on his luckiest day.

“Your form’s all wrong,” Darry muttered, crossing his arms. “He drops his shoulder every time.”

“Eh, he’s got style,” I said, grinning. “Points for flair.”

Happy tagged Tony in the ribs, and Tony winced, just barely, but enough that Pony glanced at me with a knowing look. That damn poison was eating him alive.

Then a woman walked in.

Red hair tied back, sharp green eyes that scanned the room like she owned it. Black business suit over a frame that moved like it could break bones without wrinkling the fabric.

Stark’s eyes lit up instantly.

“Well, hello,” Tony said.

“Ms. Rushman,” Pepper said, ushering her in with a stack of paperwork. “She’s from legal.”

“Legal, huh?” Tony leaned against the ropes, sweat dripping down his brow. “Funny, you don’t look like a lawyer. You look like…” He trailed off, letting his smirk finish the sentence.

The girl, Natasha, I’d later know, just gave the faintest smile. Cool, calm, dangerous.

Two-Bit elbowed me.

“She’s trouble,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, unable to stop staring. “The good kind.”

Tony grinned wider.

“Tell you what, why don’t you hop in the ring, Ms. Rushman?” Tony said. “Show me your ‘legal’ moves.”

Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Tony-” Pepper warned.

But Natasha didn’t hesitate. She slipped off her jacket, tossed her heels aside, and climbed into the ring like she’d done it a hundred times.

Happy laughed.

“Oh, this’ll be quick,” Happy said.

And it was, just not the way he thought.

Happy threw a playful jab. Natasha sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and in one smooth move had him flat on his back.

The whole gym went silent, then erupted.

“Holy hell,” Dally barked, laughing. “She flipped him like he was laundry.”

Tony clapped, delighted.

“I’m in love,” Tony said.

Happy scrambled up, embarrassed, and tried again, this time throwing his weight into it. Same result. Natasha moved like water, fluid and merciless, twisting his arm until he yelped.

Pony’s eyes widened. “

She’s not just legal counsel,” Pony whispered. “She’s… trained.”

“No kidding,” I said, my grin stretching. “Pulse-approved.”

Natasha let Happy go and straightened her blouse like nothing had happened.

“I’m just here to keep Mr. Stark’s affairs in order,” Natasha said.

“Affairs,” Tony repeated, smirking. “Now that’s my favorite word.”

Pepper sighed.

“Tony,” Pepper said.

But Natasha’s eyes flicked to us, the Strays at the ropes. A quick, sharp look, like she knew exactly who we were and what we could do.

I felt my skin prickle. She wasn’t just trouble for Tony. She was trouble for all of us.

Darry leaned toward me, muttering under his breath.

“I don’t trust her,” Darry muttered.

“Yeah,” I said, still grinning. “But damn if I don’t like her style.”

And just like that, the game had changed. Stark had his suits, we had our powers, but Fury had just slipped a new player onto the board.

And whether Tony liked it or not, Black Widow had her sights set on all of us.

Chapter Text

Chapter 31

Darry’s POV

I took my phone and dialed up Fury.

“Atlas,” Fury said on the third ring. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Why didn’t you tell us about the asset you also assigned to this case?” I demanded. “The red-headed lawyer.”

“I see you met Natasha Romanoff,” Fury said. “Also known as Black Widow.”

“So that’s her real name, huh?” I said. “Why does she know about us, and we don’t know about her?”

“I meant to tell you,” Fury said. “The perfect time didn’t come up.”

“Yeah, right,” I said in a clipped tone. “Any details?”

“Sure,” Fury said. “She was raised in the Red Room in Russia and trained to be an assassin. She got out and turned. End of story.”

“Good to know,” I said. “Talk to you later.”

“So,” Soda said with an arched verdict. “What’s the verdict?”

“A trained Russian assassin,” I said in a low whisper. “Real name Natasha Romanoff. Trained in a place called the Red Room since she was a kid. Turned on them and now a SHIELD asset. Fury said he was going to tell us, but I don’t buy it.”

“Underestimated again, I see,” Dally sneered. “SHIELD has got to learn not to do that.”

“We can do that by showing them we can handle this mission,” Johnny said. “Hopefully it goes fine.”

“That’s wishful thinking,” Steve muttered. “When do things ever go right?”

“How about that you guys are heading to Monaco with me to the Grand Prix De Monaco,” Tony said, walking over to us. “Let’s get going.”

“At least we get to see a new country and culture,” Pony said eagerly. “I can’t wait.”

“I can’t wait to see the hot blondes,” Two-Bit joked.

“You boys better behave,” Natasha said as she walked by. “I don’t need more things to clean up besides Tony’s issues.”

Two-Bit laughed.

“This is going to be epic,” Soda crowed.

“I think I need a beer,” Dally muttered.

Soon enough, we found ourselves pulling up with Tony in his Rolls-Royce limo outside the fancy suite at the race track in Monaco.

“Behave, guys,” I said darkly as we exited the limo to flashing cameras. “We want to keep a low profile.”

“Don’t jinx us, Atlas (Darry),” Johnny murmured.

Of course, when we entered, Natasha walked up to us.

“Remember what I said in the gym,” Natasha said curtly. “We need to keep a low profile and not cause a scene.”

“I don’t remember promising that,” Tony teased. “Plus, I’m going down to race a bit.”

“Tony,” I warned.

“Relax, big guy,” Tony said. “It’ll be fine. Plus, no one would dare do something stupid in a sea of people.”

“I highly doubt that,” Steve grumbled.

Then we met Pepper at the bar, and we were greeted by a guy in glasses.

“Who is this guy?” Dally muttered.

“Justin Hammer,” Hammer introduced himself. “Big fan of Mr. Stark here. And of the Strays. It’s nice to see you in person. You look younger than I expected.”

“We get that a lot,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.

I cocked an eyebrow as Hammer fanboyed over Tony, who was increasingly uncomfortable.

Pony leaned over to me.

“I texted Fury,” Pony murmured. “To get us all the intel on Hammer.”

“Good idea, Mindlight,” I murmured.

That’s when I noticed that Tony was sneaking off to the bathroom, and I followed. I stayed in the shadows until Tony popped open his shirt. That’s when I saw it. The poison is leaking from the arc reactor into his bloodstream.

“Why the hell did you keep that a secret?” I demanded.

Tony whirled around, buttoning up his shirt.

“None of your damn business,” Tony sneered. “It’s nothing. I’ve got it all worked out. Now, if you excuse me, I’ve got to race.”

With that, Tony walked out to the race track.

The Monaco Grand Prix wasn’t my kind of scene. Too much flash, too much money, too many people pretending they were more important than they were. But Stark? He thrived in it.

We were supposed to be keeping low, watching the race, keeping an eye on Tony, and making sure nothing stupid happened. Soda kept bouncing on his heels like a kid at Christmas, dazzled by the speed and spectacle. Two-Bit was already needling the high rollers in the stands with his smart mouth. Pony’s eyes were everywhere, that telepathic buzz of his tuned to pick up tension.

Me? I just kept my arms folded, watching Stark grin like a fool down in the pit. I also kept an eye on Hammer.

Then he pulled the stunt. Slipped into a racecar. No helmet, no hesitation. Just Tony Stark, doing the most reckless thing he could think of.

“Unbelievable,” I muttered, jaw tight. “He’s got the world watching, and he turns it into a circus.”

“Hey,” Dally smirked, arms crossed. “Guy knows how to make an entrance. Respect.”

I shot him a glare, but before I could lecture, Pony stiffened.

“Something’s wrong,” Pony said, voice low. His eyes flickered faintly with light. “The crowd, sudden fear spikes, panic, they’re seeing something on the track.”

And then I saw it.

A man walking straight out onto the racetrack. Lean build, greasy hair flying in the wind, that awful electric grin carved across his face. And in his hands, two glowing whips crackling with lethal energy.
The crowd gasped, screamed. Cars swerved, crashed. And Tony, in the middle of it, drove straight into hell.

“Move!” I barked.

Soda blurred out of sight in a streak of speed. Steve’s hands twitched, already tugging at the mechanics of nearby safety cars with his telekinesis. Pony and Johnny flanked me as we pushed through the panicked mass.

By the time we hit the fence, Whiplash’s whips were carving cars in half like butter. Sparks and fire lit the track. Tony’s car spun out, metal crunching.

“Stark!” I roared, vaulting the barricade.

I hit the ground running. Whiplash snapped a whip at me, and the force slammed into my chest, but I barely staggered. Heat, impact, it rolled right off. Invulnerability had its perks.

“Nice try,” I growled. And before he could react, I grabbed the whip, muscles bulging, and yanked him forward like he was a ragdoll.

Electricity surged down the coil, burning my palms, but I held fast. He snarled, jerking the other whip around, but Reckless (Dally) took the hit. The energy slammed into him, and instead of dropping, he grinned, muscles glowing faintly as he absorbed it.

“Now that’s my kinda fuel,” Dally spat, fists crackling with stored power. He charged in with wild swings, each punch detonating like a bomb.

Pulse (Soda) zipped across the wreckage, pulling drivers out of burning cars before the flames could take them. I saw Ash (Johnny) sweep an arm, ash pouring out like smoke, blanketing the area so civilians couldn’t see Stark dragging himself free.

And Breaker (Steve) was holding half the track together with sheer will, flipping cars upright, bending twisted machinery to form barriers between Whiplash and the innocent.

Tony was staggering toward his wreck, bloody and dazed. I shoved through the ash cloud and hauled him up by his collar.

“You’re insane,” I snapped. “What the hell were you thinking, jumping in that car?”

He coughed, smirked anyway.

“That I could win?” Tony weezed.

I shook my head, pushing him behind cover.

“Stay down,” I ordered. “We’ll handle this.”

But Tony Stark never stayed down. He fumbled for the suitcase Pepper had thrown out onto the track, his portable armor.

Whiplash lashed out again, wrapping both whips around my torso. Sparks surged through me. I gritted my teeth as he pulled tight, metal cutting deep.

Mindlight’s (Pony) light flared, an illusion snapping into existence beside me, a dozen glowing versions of myself, each one tugging on the whips. Whiplash faltered, confused, long enough for me to snap the coils apart with brute strength.

Jokester’s (Two-Bit) laugh rang out, loud, sharp, bending luck itself. The next second, Whiplash slipped on oil that hadn’t been there before, his own whip catching on wreckage and pulling him off balance.

And that’s when Stark arrived, suit clamping around him piece by piece from the briefcase, his Iron Man armor locking into place.

“Round two,” Stark said, his repulsors lighting up.

It was chaos, fire, smoke, steel screaming as Whiplash tried to carve Stark in half. Dally took hit after hit, grinning wider each time, until he grabbed the base of one whip and snapped it with a burst of kinetic energy. Johnny cloaked Stark with ash just long enough for Tony to get a clean repulsor blast lined up.

The beam hit Whiplash square, sending him flying into the barricade. He crumpled, unconscious, sparks dying out.

The crowd erupted, panic fading into stunned cheers.

I stood there, chest heaving, ash swirling around us, Stark panting in his gleaming suit.

“This isn’t over,” I said, glaring at him. “You’re not invincible, Stark. You need us, whether you like it or not.”

He grinned behind the mask, cocky as ever.

“Sure, Atlas,” Tony said. “But admit it, we make one hell of a show.”

I didn’t answer. I just turned to my brothers, ash still falling, the smell of smoke heavy in the air.

The Strays weren’t just shadows in the world anymore. We were front and center.

And that terrified me more than Whiplash ever could.

We didn’t get twenty minutes to breathe before SHIELD scooped us up. Stark barely had time to peel himself out of the armor before a black SUV rolled in, tinted windows and no nonsense. Coulson stepped out first, crisp suit, unflinching stare. Natasha, well, “Natalie Rushman,” as Stark knew her, wasn’t far behind, her red hair gleaming like a warning sign. And then came Fury, one eye gleaming sharper than most men’s two.

We were escorted back to a quiet SHIELD facility outside Monaco. Bare walls, buzzing fluorescent lights, cold metal tables, it was about as warm as a morgue.

Fury didn’t waste time. He paced in front of us, coat flaring with every step.

“You all just turned a global spectacle into a front-page nightmare,” Fury said flatly. His gaze swept over me, then the boys. “Not that I’m surprised. Stark’s got a talent for it, and you Strays… you follow trouble like moths to a damn flame.”

Two-Bit smirked, feet kicked up on the table.

“Hey, at least we make it look good,” Two-Bit said.

“Put your feet down,” I snapped. He obeyed, grumbling under his breath.

Fury turned his glare to Stark, who was pale and tight-lipped, sweating through his shirt. Even with the smug grin plastered on, I could see the strain.

“You’re dying,” Fury said bluntly.

The room went dead silent.

Tony chuckled, low and humorless.

“What, no bedside manner, Nick?” Tony said.

Natasha’s gaze was sharper than the edge of a blade.

“The palladium in your chest piece is poisoning you,” Natasha said. “Your vitals confirm it. The symptoms are accelerating.”

My stomach sank. I’d seen soldiers run themselves into the ground, ignore warning signs until it was too late. Stark looked just like them, worn, jittery, covering it all with bravado.

“You should’ve told us,” I said, voice low, arms folded across my chest. “Instead of playing stuntman in a racecar.”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad,” Stark shot back, smirk brittle. “Next time I’m circling the drain, I’ll put it on the calendar.”

Dally snorted, but even he looked uneasy.

Coulson cleared his throat, sliding a file across the table. It was thick with photos, our team, mid-action, Monaco in flames.

“You’re all exposed now,” Coulson said. “The world saw you at Stark’s side. The media has questions. Governments have bigger ones.” His eyes flicked to Pony. “You’ve been ghosts until now. That luxury’s over.”

Pony shifted uncomfortably, eyes glowing faintly in the fluorescent light.

“We never wanted the spotlight,” Pony said nervously.

“Doesn’t matter,” Fury cut in. “You’re in it. You’ve been in it since Germany ‘44, after you were transported there from Tulsa ‘67. Monaco just confirmed it. So you’ve got two choices: work with us to manage this, or watch the world chew you up.”

I felt the weight of his words like a boulder. The boys glanced at me; they always did, waiting for me to carry the answer.

“We’re not tools,” I said, slow and steady. “We’re not SHIELD’s soldiers. We’ve spent decades keeping each other alive, not dancing to someone else’s orders. You want us to help? Fine. But don’t think for a second we’ll be controlled.”

Fury smirked, just barely.

“I wouldn’t dare,” Fury said. “But make no mistake, Atlas, you’re part of the bigger picture now. So is Stark.”

For once, Tony was quiet. No quips, no jokes. Just sitting there, eyes shadowed, his fingers drumming on the table like he was trying to distract himself from the truth bleeding through his veins.
Johnny leaned forward, voice soft but edged with heat.

“So what now?” Johnny asked. “You just watch him die?”

Fury looked at him, unreadable.

“That depends on Stark,” Fury said. “He’s got the brain to fix this mess. The question is whether he’s got the humility.”

The air felt heavy, the kind of silence that pressed on your ribs.

Finally, Tony stood. Straightened his jacket, forced on the Stark charm like it was armor.

“Well, thanks for the pep talk,” Tony said. “Really uplifting. Can we go now? I’ve got a world to keep impressed before I kick the bucket.”

He walked out, shoulders squared but steps uneven.

We all exchanged glances. Pony’s jaw clenched, Soda’s usual brightness dimmed, Dally’s hands flexed like he wanted to hit something just to feel alive.

And me? I knew this was the start of something worse. Stark’s war wasn’t with villains or whiplash-wielding maniacs. It was with himself.

And the Strays were walking straight into it with him.

The next thing I knew, we were on a plane with Tony, Happy, and Pepper heading back to the U.S.

“At least we got first-class digs,” Dally muttered.

“I could get used to this,” Soda said.

“Don’t hold your breath,” Steve muttered. “We don’t know where we’ll end up after this mess.”

Then that’s when our pagers pinged.

I paled.

“Hammer got Whiplash out of jail,” Pony said with a mix of fear and awe.

“What the hell does he want with that psycho?” Two-Bit asked.

“Probably nothing good,” Johnny said.

That’s when the firles on Hammer got to us from Fury.

“At least I had the foresight to request this,” Pony mumbled.

“There you go using your head,” I said with a smirk.

Pony scowled at me.

We walked with Tony into his lab, trying to use all of JARVIS’s info to find anything on Whiplash as we pored over Hammer’s files.

That’s when Rhodey came in.

“You know I had to keep the National Guard from coming in here, Tony, and taking your suits,” Rhodey said. “Well, tough news. They might be coming in harder because someone else has their hands on this kind of technology.”

Tony looked up at Rhodey with a glazed look.

“Oh no,” I muttered. “His reactor is acting up again.”

“But he won’t let us in,” Soda murmured. “So all we can do is try to catch him when he falls and hope it doesn’t do too much damage before it’s too late.”

I knew Soda was right, but I didn’t like it.

It didn’t take long to see Fury was right as well. Stark was coming apart at the seams.

At first, it was little things, showing up late to briefings, brushing us off when we asked how he was holding up. But then the jokes started sounding hollow, the drinks stronger, and that edge in his eyes sharper. He was wearing himself thin, and everyone in the room could feel it.

One night, he invited us to a party at his mansion in Malibu. I had a bad feeling from the minute we walked in. Music was blasting, the lights dimmed low, and people were laughing too loudly. It reeked of a distraction, not a celebration.

Stark swaggered out in the Iron Man suit like it was a toy, mic in hand, half-drunk grin plastered across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he drawled, “your host for the evening, Iron Man. Who needs clowns when you’ve got me?”

The crowd roared. I felt my stomach twist. This wasn’t confidence, it was desperation.

Soda leaned toward me, a frown cutting through his usual brightness.

“He’s gone, Darry,” Soda murmured. “Look at him.”

Johnny’s hands flickered with ash, restless.

“We can’t let him keep using the suit like this,” Johnny said nervously.

I clenched my fists.

“I’ll handle it,” I said grimly.

We pushed through the crowd just as Stark fired a repulsor blast into a giant ice sculpture, sending champagne raining down on squealing guests. He was laughing, chest piece glowing too bright.

“Stark!” I barked. My voice cut through the noise. “You’re done. Get out of the suit.”

“Atlas (Darry)!” he shouted back, spreading his arms like he was welcoming me to the circus. “Perfect timing. Come on, big guy, lighten up. It’s a party!”

“You’re outta control,” I growled, stepping closer. “You’re gonna hurt somebody.”

The guests started whispering. Cameras flashed. Stark just grinned wider.

Then Rhodey showed up. Not in a tux, not in civvies, he was in one of Stark’s other suits, the silver and gray Mark II.

“Tony,” Rhodey said, voice tight through the modulator, “stand down.”

That grin vanished. Stark’s jaw clenched.

“You don’t get to wear that,” Tony sneered.

“Someone’s gotta,” Rhodey shot back.

I could feel Mindlight’s (Pony) panic through his empathic field, his emotions pressing at me like heat waves.

“Darry, he’s not gonna stop,” Pony whispered. “He can’t.”

Then the fight broke loose. Repulsor blasts tore through the room. Guests screamed and bolted. Pulse (Soda) blurred through the chaos, yanking people out of the line of fire. Jokester (Two-Bit) tossed out jokes like grenades, messing with Stark’s aim just enough to keep people alive.

But Stark and Rhodey weren’t holding back. Armor clashed, glass shattered, and the house shook with every hit.

“Tony, stop!” I shouted, stepping into the line of fire. Rhodey went flying past me, smashing into a wall. Stark turned, chest piece glowing hotter than I’d ever seen.

For a split second, I thought he’d fire.

Then Reckless (Dally) barreled into him, taking the blast full-on. Energy rolled across his skin like fire, and he laughed, stronger, meaner.

“That all you got, tin man?” Dally called.

But Stark didn’t stop. He hit harder. Rhodey hit back. The Strays couldn’t pin them down without tearing the place apart.

Finally, Rhodey managed to override Stark’s system and lock down the armor. Stark dropped to one knee, chest plate heaving like a dying man’s lungs.

The room was wrecked. Guests long gone. My crew stood around him, silent. Fury’s warning echoed in my head.

Soda broke the silence, voice low.

“He’s not Iron Man right now,” Soda said. “He’s just a guy killing himself in a suit.”

Stark didn’t look up. Just sat there, helmet under one arm, the glow from his chest faint but unsteady.

I wanted to shake him, scream at him, anything to make him hear me. But all I could do was tell the truth.

“You keep going like this, Stark… and we won’t be fighting villains at your funeral,” I said. “We’ll be carrying your damn coffin.”

He didn’t answer.

And that silence weighed heavier than anything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 32

Two-Bit’s POV

Let’s just say we had to deal with a sadder and spiraling Tony than we were used to after that.

It was kind of depressing to watch.

If you ever needed a picture of a guy who’s lost the plot, Tony Stark sitting in a giant donut with an Iron Man suit still half-on is about as good as it gets.

There he was, perched in the middle of that pink pastry like it was his throne, sunglasses on, hair sticking up like he’d licked a socket. A billionaire genius in a sugar-coated breakdown.

“Only in America,” I muttered, smirking as we stood down below. Pony nudged me in the ribs, but even he was trying not to laugh, and that kid’s the softest heart of the bunch.

Nick Fury didn’t laugh, though. He stood there in his long coat, arms crossed, like he’d seen it all before. Natasha, sorry, “Natalie,” or whatever cover name she’d been running with, just watched Tony with this look that said I can put you down in three seconds flat if I feel like it.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to exit the donut,” Fury called up.

Tony lowered his shades, looked down at us, and gave this lazy grin like he hadn’t just tried to laser his best friend in half at a birthday party.

“I’m just… having a little fun,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath. “And I’m the Queen of England.”

Darry gave me a glare that could break bricks. But he didn’t stop me either. He knew the truth.

We followed Fury and Natasha once Stark decided to come down and pretend to be civil. The place was quiet, the booth greasy, the coffee burnt. Stark slid in across from Fury like a kid sent to the principal’s office, but with way more ego.

The Strays took the booth behind them, our little family squashed in like sardines. I sat with Soda on one side, Pony and Johnny on the other. Dally slouched against the wall like he owned the place, and Steve sat stiff as ever, arms crossed, scanning the exits.

Fury didn’t waste time.

“You think you’re the only superhero in the world?” Fury said. “Mr. Stark, you’ve become part of a bigger universe. You just don’t know it yet.”

“He gives that speech at parties, too, or just diners?” I whispered to Soda.

Soda smothered a grin. Johnny elbowed me.

Natasha slid a folder across the table, thick, black, and stamped with SHIELD’s mark.

“You’re not the center of this, Tony. Not anymore.”

Tony smirked, flipping it open.

“What, you still have the Strays on the payroll?” Tony asked. “I thought they would’ve wriggled out of that by now.”

“Kind of and kind of not,” Fury said. “It’s tricky, since they’ve mostly been in the shadows. Plus, they’ve been working with us since WWII. They know how to work as a team. You don’t. That’s why you’re sitting in a donut, and they’re still standing.”

I snorted.

“Gotta admit, he’s not wrong,” I said with a smirk.

Tony shot me a glare over his shades, and for a second, I swore the coffee cup shook. Maybe it was just me messing with luck, hard to tell sometimes.

The longer Fury talked, the heavier the air got. They talked about the poisoning that was occurring. Our history with SHIELD was kept hidden. Telling him about a team he was putting together. You could see it cutting at him, under the bravado. Pony felt it too. I could see it in the way his eyes narrowed, his hand tightening against the table like he was trying to keep all that emotion from spilling into us.

“Careful, kid,” I whispered. “Don’t let his storm become yours.”

Tony tried to laugh it off, but even he couldn’t hide the weight pressing down on him. And Natasha? She just leaned back, cool as ice, eyes flicking from Stark to us like she already knew how every piece on the board was moving.

Fury finally dropped the line that shut Stark up.

“If you’re gonna continue being Iron Man, you’re gonna do it on our terms,” Fury said. “With supervision. Or not at all.”

That one hit the table like a sledgehammer. Stark didn’t answer. He just stared at Fury, then at Natasha, then at us.

And for once, Tony Stark, the man who always had a comeback, had nothing.

When we finally spilled back out into the California sun, Stark shoved his shades back on, armor hanging loose at his sides. He looked smaller than I’d ever seen him. Not physically, he still had the cocky walk, the expensive toys, the big mouth. But underneath? He looked like a guy who just realized he wasn’t bulletproof anymore.

“Guess donuts don’t solve everything,” I said, stuffing my hands in my jacket.

Soda shook his head.

“Neither does drinking yourself to death in a suit,” Soda said.

Darry sighed.

“We’re not out of the woods with him,” Darry said. “Not by a long shot.”

I grinned sideways, trying to lighten it up.

“Hey, at least we’re in the big leagues now,” I said. “They’re adding more teams to the roster. We aren’t alone anymore and hidden. Next thing you know, we’ll be having coffee with Thor or something.”

Johnny’s brow arched.

“Thor?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said with a smirk. “Guy with a hammer, long hair, probably smells like rain. It’s bound to happen.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with an eye roll. “Then we’ll also be dealing with the jolly green giant.”

They laughed, and for a second, the weight lifted. But I could feel it hanging in the air still; Tony’s spiral wasn’t over. And when he went down, if we weren’t ready, he’d drag us with him.

After the donut shop talk, we were on a plane on the way back to Miami and Stark’s house.

Fury was close behind.

On the plane, we figured out what Hammer was possibly doing with Whiplash. Building an army of suits. Which wasn’t good.

“We need to be on top of this and get Stark on our side,” Fury said.

“You know what could help, right?” Steve said. “Telling him about his dad and his role in the conception of SHIELD and our history with him.”

“You’re probably right,” Fury muttered. “So here goes nothing.”

Tony Stark’s Malibu mansion looked like the kind of place you’d see in a magazine where no one actually lived. Except the man who lived there was busy poisoning himself to death while drinking his weight in scotch and building robots in the basement. Real estate meets Greek tragedy.

I wasn’t looking forward to this meeting.

“I’m kind of getting prepared for another fight,” I muttered.

“You and me both,” Dally muttered.

“I can try and calm him down,” Pony offered.

“I don’t think he needs that for this conversation, Pone,” Darry said gently. “He needs to feel his feelings for this conversation to win him over.”

We gathered in Tony’s sleek, glass-walled living room, the ocean pounding against the rocks below. Stark paced like a caged cat, while Fury planted himself in a chair like he owned the place. Natasha leaned against a wall, arms crossed, watching Stark with those sharp, calculating eyes.

Fury pulled a folder out of his coat and tossed it on the coffee table.

“Ivan Vanko,” Fury said. Russian physicist. Son of Anton Vanko, worked with your father on the original arc reactor.”

Stark’s grin faltered. Just a flicker, but I caught it. He flipped the folder open, scanning the photos of the guy with the whips who’d nearly fried him in Monaco.

“This guy?” Tony chuckled. “Whiplash junior? You’re telling me Daddy Stark had a pen pal in Siberia and forgot to mention it?”

“Anton Vanko wanted to use the technology for profit,” Fury said. “Your father wanted to change the world. When Anton tried to sell it, he was deported. Ended up rotting in a cell. Guess which son grew up bitter.”

Tony shut the folder a little too hard.

“Guessing it’s not me,” Tony snapped.

Fury didn’t miss a beat.

“Howard left you everything you need,” Fury said. “He was trying to pass the torch.”

Tony laughed, short, sharp, almost desperate.

“Yeah, my dad was great at passing things,” Tony snorted. “Mostly passing judgment.”

I leaned forward, unable to resist.

“Ever think maybe you’re too busy running from his ghost to see what he actually left you?” I asked.

Everyone turned to look at me. Stark most of all. For once, I didn’t grin.

Atlas backed me up, his voice steady.

“Two-Bit’s right,” Darry said. “You keep saying you’re Iron Man, but you’re acting like you’re all alone. You’re not. Not with us. Not with SHIELD. And sure as hell not with the legacy your dad left.”

The room went heavy after that. Stark didn’t say a word. He just looked out the glass wall at the ocean, drink dangling loose in his hand.

“What do you know?” Tony smeared after a bit.

“We knew your dad during WWII,” Johnny said gently. “We worked with him and helped start the ball rolling on SHIELD with Peggy Carter.”
Tony was startled.

“I didn’t know that,” Tony said. “He had a funny way of not telling me things that were important.”

“Well, you’re learning now,” Soda said.

A few agents and Coulson brought in a box, and Fury got up to leave.

Fury leaned over Stark, his voice low but sharp as steel.

“You have a choice, Stark,” Fury said. “You can drink yourself into the grave, or you can figure out what your father left you. Everything you need to save yourself is already in your hands. But you better get moving, because Vanko’s not done, and neither’s Hammer.”

He turned to us next.

“And you seven, stick close,” Fury said. “He won’t admit it, but he’s gonna need you.”

We all nodded, even Darry, though his jaw was tight. Stark didn’t look at us, didn’t thank us. He just stared down at the folder, the photos, the shadow of his dad’s face staring back at him through old schematics.

“So who is going to look in the box?” Dally asked.

“I think Tony should do that,” Pony said gently. “It was his father’s after all.”

“You guys can watch after all,” Tony said. “You guys can help me make sense of this since you guys knew him better than I did.”

“We only knew him for a brief time,” Soda tried to cover.

We followed Tony down to his lab, where he sifted through the box. It had old plans that Howard did with Aton. There was also a video that was home-recorded and featured a child named Tony.

“Howard looks a lot older than I remember,” Steve said.

“Well, that happens when you don’t age, and we only met a long time ago,” Darry said.

Then a video came on that was a message for Tony from his Dad.

“I feel like I’m intruding on something I shouldn’t be hearing,” I muttered.

Just as I was about to leave, Tony leaned on.

“I’ve got an idea,” Tony muttered. “Thanks, Dad.”

“We’re back in business,” Johnny said with a smirk.

We followed Tony out to the car, to a fruit stand to get strawberries, and then to Pepper’s office.

“What the hell is he doing?” Dally asked.

“Probably something stupid,” I said with a smirk.

Tony strutted into Pepper’s office like he was carrying the Ark of the Covenant.

Only problem? It was a plain white box.

We were close behind him.

“Strawberries,” Tony announced, dropping it on her desk like a magician revealing his finale. “Your favorite.”

Pepper barely looked up from the mountain of folders, but the sharp inhale was there, tiny, but real. She stood, hands crossing tight over her chest.

“Tony,” Pepper said. “I’m allergic to strawberries.”

I had to bury my laugh in my hand.

“Man’s a genius with weapons and reactors, but birthdays and fruit?” I said. “Forget about it.”

Tony blinked, then pointed helplessly at the box as if it betrayed him.

“There’s only one thing in this world I’m allergic to…” Tony muttered, more to himself than us.

Dally snorted.

“Yeah, pal, and you bought her a box of it,” Dally said. “Real smooth.”

Pony shifted awkwardly beside me, glowing faintly along his edges like he was absorbing all the embarrassment in the room. Soda, of course, leaned into it with that grin of his.

“Don’t worry, Pepper,” Soda said with a smirk. “His charm field only malfunctions half the time. It’s endearing.”

Pepper shot Soda the kind of look only a woman in charge could manage, half warning, half weary fondness. Then her gaze snapped back to Tony.

“You brought me here to do the work you don’t want to do,” Pepper said. “And now you’ve saddled me with more of it.”

Steve whistled low, tinkering absently with the door’s handle mechanism like he couldn’t help himself.

“She’s got you pegged, Stark,” Steve said. “Better take notes.”

Tony, for once, looked like he might actually be out of quips.

“Pepper-” Tony said.

“No,” Pepper cut him off, sharper this time, voice wobbling just enough to tell us this wasn’t just about strawberries. “You don’t get to play the martyr and dump everything in my lap while you self-destruct. You want to fix this? Fix yourself first.”

The silence after that could’ve flattened a Skrull. Even Darry folded his arms, watching Stark like a disappointed older brother.

Tony finally grabbed the box again, like maybe hiding the evidence would undo it.

“Right,” Tony said. “Got it. Not strawberries.”

I clapped him on the shoulder, grinning widely.

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” I said. “Next time, try pizza. Nobody’s allergic to pizza.”

That broke the tension just enough for Pepper to roll her eyes before storming out. But her footsteps had that clipped edge, more steel than usual.

Tony stood there in the wreckage of his own charm, glancing from the door to us.

“You all enjoy this way too much,” Tony groaned.

“Buddy,” I told him, laughing, “watching you trip over yourself? That’s the only entertainment we get between alien invasions.”

When Pepper left the room, Natasha and Happy needed something.

“Finally,” Tony said. “Now I can get that diagram.

“He still has that thing?” Dally asked.

“I thought only Darry held on to everything,” Johnny teased.

We headed back to Tony’s house with the diagram to have Jarvis analyze it.

“What the hell is he doing?” Steve muttered.

Pony’s eyes widened.

“An updated arc reactor that’s in the hidden diagram,” Pony muttered.

“No freaking way,” Darry said.

Watching Tony Stark tear apart his own house was like watching a kid dismantle a toy car just to see how it worked, except instead of Legos and plastic wheels, he was throwing around multimillion-dollar equipment like it was spare junk from a garage sale.

Sparks flew as he welded some weird-looking accelerator together. Soda zipped back out of the line of fire, barely missing a spray of molten steel.

“Hey, you’re gonna fry me alive before Whiplash even gets the chance,” Soda said.

“Relax,” Tony muttered, eyes sharp under the welding mask. “ This is controlled chaos.”

“Looks more like chaos-chaos,” I shot back, leaning against the counter with a smirk. “Don’t tell me this whole breakthrough’s based on a doodle your old man left you in a model city.”

Pony’s glow flickered softly near the back of the room. He was reading Tony’s emotional waves again. I didn’t even need Pony to say it; you could feel the buzz. Stark was jittery but alive for the first time in weeks.

Darry, arms crossed, grunted low.

“He’s focused,” Darry murmured. “That’s new.”

Johnny brushed past him, ash and ember trailing faintly from his fingertips as he leaned closer to Tony’s rig.

“Just make sure that thing doesn’t explode the whole block, Stark,” Johnny warned.

Tony lifted the mask just enough to flash a grin.

“What fun would that be?” Tony said.

Steve’s eyes narrowed as a hum built in the machinery. His hands twitched like he was steering an invisible wheel, and suddenly, a few wobbly pieces of tech steadied.

“You’re welcome,” Steve muttered.

Tony didn’t even look up.

“Knew you’d come in handy, Greaser MacGyver,” Tony said.

Then the big moment hit. The accelerator roared, a brilliant blue-white beam smashing through the contraption. For half a heartbeat, I thought it’d take out the roof. Then, bang. Pure light condensed into a triangular core, pulsing with life.

Tony held it up, his grin wild, the glow bouncing across his face.

“Ladies and gentlemen… a brand-new element,” Tony announced. “And my ticket out of dying.”

Soda whistled low.

“Show-off,” Soda muttered.

“Jealous,” Stark shot back, already sliding the core into the arc reactor on his chest. The second it locked in, the light flared bright, steady, stronger than before. His shoulders loosened like he could finally breathe again.

“Now that,” I said, “is an upgrade worth watching.”

That’s when the door opened.

Coulson stepped in, calm as ever, like he hadn’t just walked into Stark’s personal science explosion.

“Mr. Stark,” Coulson said. “Gentlemen.” His eyes flicked over the wreckage of the lab, then back to Tony. “I see you’ve been… productive.”

Tony lifted his mask again, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

“You’re welcome to the show anytime, Agent,” Tony said. “Tickets aren’t cheap, though.”

“Good,” Coulson said evenly, “because your next show starts soon. Stark Expo’s drawing eyes we don’t want on us. And we’ve got reports Ivan Vanko isn’t finished.” His gaze shifted to us. “Which means the Strays will be staying close.”

Darry gave a sharp nod, like he’d been expecting that. Dally just cracked his knuckles, absorbing the residual hum of the machine like it was feeding him.

Coulson’s gaze lingered on the new reactor glowing in Tony’s chest.

“Whatever you just built?” Coulson said. “Hope it holds. Because we’re going to need all of it.”

Tony only grinned wider.

“Oh, trust me,” Tony said. “This party’s just getting started.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 33

Steve’s POV

Tony was starting to get back to normal when all went to hell.

Ivan (Whiplash) called.

“This can’t be good,” I muttered.

We all looked up. Tony didn’t even glance at us before answering it.

“Yeah?” Tony said.

The voice on the other end was sharp, accented, thick with venom.

“You lose,” Ivan growled.

Every one of us stiffened. Soda dropped his screwdriver, and even Dally stopped pacing. I froze, too, because I recognized the tone. You don’t mess with a man who doesn’t waste words.

“Tony Stark,” Ivan continued. “This is not your arena. This is mine.”

I could feel Pony’s aura ripple, catching the emotions bleeding through the line. He shot me a quick look, rage, grief, cold vengeance. It practically buzzed in the room.

Tony leaned back in his chair, casual as hell, though I noticed his grip on the armrest tightened.

“Ivan, buddy, you’re still alive,” Tony teased. “Color me surprised.”

“It was easy,” Ivan rasped. “Made you bleed. That’s all I wanted.”

Dally cracked his knuckles.

“Lemme at him,” Dally growled. Just tell me where he is and I’ll…”

Darry’s hand shot out, firm on Dally’s shoulder.

“Not yet,” Darry warned.

Tony ignored us, staring straight ahead at the hologram hovering in front of him.

“You talk big for a guy who got dragged out of a race track in handcuffs,” Tony mocked.

There was a pause. Then, a low and certain voice boomed over the phone.

“If you could make God bleed, people would cease to believe in him,” Ivan growled. “There will be blood in the water. The sharks will come.”

I felt Pony stiffen; those words carried not just threat but conviction. The kind of conviction that spreads like wildfire.

“Whiplash ain’t bluffin’,” Johnny muttered, ember glow flickering at his fingertips.
The voice continued, calm yet lethal.

“Hammer will make a lot of money,’ Ivan continued. “I will make a lot of people smile. You, Stark… you lose.”

Then the line went dead.

For a second, no one moved. The lab was filled with the hum of Stark’s holograms, the faint buzz of Soda flipping his screwdriver back into the air like he hadn’t just been rattled.

Tony finally exhaled, slow and sharp.

“Well,” Tony said, deadpanned. “That was cheery.”

“Cheery?” Two-Bit strolled in at that exact moment, half a bottle in his hand. “The guy just promised to feed you to the sharks. I’d call that a bad Yelp review, Tony.”

Tony shot him a look, but even I could tell his smirk was a cover. His hands twitched as he reached for another hologram, eyes darting, brain already spinning twelve moves ahead.

Darry finally pushed off the wall, voice heavy and steady like an anchor.

“This isn’t just about you anymore, Stark,” Darry said darkly. “He’s coming for all of us. For everything.”

Tony didn’t argue for once.

And right then, I knew, whatever Vanko had cooking, we were walking into it whether we liked it or not.

“So, what’s the plan?” Soda asked. “Because this guy is gunning for us. And so is the government.”

“Well,” Tony said. “We have to go to the Expo first. Then we take Vanko down.”

“Why do I feel like this is going to go terribly?” I said.

“Because it most likely will,” Dally muttered.

We all got dressed up in our suits that went over our uniforms and headed towards the Stark Expo.

We piled into the limo and drove off, and were off into a sea of cameras.

“Here comes the circus,” Pony said nervously. “Thankfully, I took my anxiety medication before this.”

If Stark’s lab had been tense, the Expo was something else entirely, louder, brighter, drowning in lights and noise until you couldn’t tell where the crowd’s excitement ended and the PR machine began.
Hammer was strutting around backstage like a peacock in a cheap suit, smiling too wide, sweating too much. W hung back in the shadows behind Tony, though Stark barely acknowledged us; his head was somewhere else, replaying that call over and over.

“Why’re we even here?” Reckless (Dally) muttered, arms crossed. “Feels like a circus. I’ll agree with you there, kid.”

“It is a circus,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, twirling an Expo program like it was a deck of cards. “Only with shinier clowns.”

“Stay sharp,” Atlas (Darry) warned, his voice heavy with that father-brother weight. “Stane was a businessman, too. Never underestimate the guy smiling in your face.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The music hit, lights blazing, and Hammer strutted out on stage like he owned the place.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Justin Hammer!” The announcer called.

The crowd clapped politely, though you could feel the air sag compared to when Stark had taken that stage months ago.

Hammer launched into his monologue, cheesy and overeager, while Pulse (Pony) leaned over to me.

“Bet you twenty bucks he trips over his own teeth before the night’s over,” Mindlight (Pony) said with a smirk.

I smirked.

“Not takin’ that bet,” I muttered. “Too easy.”

Then Hammer snapped his fingers, and the screens lit up with blueprints and schematics. My gut clenched.

Drones. Rows of them. Sleek, militarized, each with a different silhouette, Air Force, Army, Navy. All moving in perfect unison on his hologram display.

I didn’t need to touch the machines to know they were flawed. The joints were wrong. The wiring is sloppy. They’d run, but they’d fail under pressure. And whoever designed them didn’t care.
Hammer’s voice boomed, dripping with false pride.

“Gentlemen, I give you the future of modern warfare, Hammer Drones!” Hammer crowed.

The curtain dropped, and there they were, towering metallic soldiers, lined up in formation, eyes glowing with cold blue light. The crowd gasped, half awe, half unease.
Atlas’s (Darry) jaw clenched.

“That’s not good,” Darry said.

Ash (Johnny) narrowed his eyes, sparks flickering in his palm.

“Those things ain’t soldiers,” Johnny muttered. “They’re coffins waitin’ to happen.”

Mindlight’s (Pony) glow brightened faintly, his voice low.

“There’s anger inside them,” Mindlight (Pony) said. “A wrongness. Like… like they’re chained.”

I swallowed hard, already knowing the answer.

“Who’s holdin’ the leash?” I asked.

Hammer clapped him on the back, giddy.

“Everyone, meet my new partner, Colonel Lieutenant James Rhodes,” Hammer said.

The crowd had no idea what they were looking at, but we did.

“Son of a -” Reckless (Dally) muttered, fists tightening.

Atlas (Darry) stepped forward, holding him back.

“Not here,” Darry warned. “Not yet.”

Hammer kept talking, soaking up the spotlight, but my focus locked on Rhodes, who was rising out of the floor in his suit.

“Something feels wrong,” Pulse (Soda) said. “This doesn’t feel right.”

“I can feel it too,” Mindlight (Pony) murmured. “Uneasiness is coming off of Rhodey.”

The applause hadn’t even settled when the lights flickered. For a second, I thought it was just shoddy wiring in Hammer’s setup, until every screen across the Expo lit up with static.

Then a face filled the monitors.

Ivan Vanko.

Hair stringy, grin wide, eyes like knives. He leaned toward the camera like he could crawl straight out of it.

“Hammer is nothing,” Ivan growled. “Stark is nothing. But me? I make god bleed.” His accent dripped menace. “And now the world will see…”

My stomach dropped.

Every drone’s eyes lit red.

And so did Rhodey’s.

“Aw, hell,” Reckless (Dally) growled.

The drones turned in unison, no hesitation, no command needed, and the clank of servos locked into attack stance echoed across the stadium.

“Tony!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

I spotted Stark in the wings, already sliding the new suitcase onto his chest. Armor unfolded, piece by piece, until Iron Man stood tall.

“Yeah, I see it!” Tony shouted back, repulsors priming.

The first drone raised its arm cannon.

“Down!” I yelled.

The air split with a blast, metal shrieked, the stage exploded in a shower of sparks and debris, and suddenly we weren’t at a show anymore. We were in a warzone.

Pulse (Soda) zipped past me, a blur of motion as he cleared panicked civilians out of the line of fire. Mindlight (Pony) flared, eyes glowing, and a dome of golden-white light bloomed around a cluster of families cowering in the front rows. Their fear pulsed in my head through him, sharp and raw, but he held steady, his shield catching an entire volley of drone fire.

Ash (Johnny) spread his hands, and a cloak of burning ash spiraled outward, scattering incoming rockets like they’d hit a sandstorm. His teeth clenched, sweat beading on his brow.

“These things are loaded heavily!” Johnny called.

I felt the whir of gears like they were alive, the drones’ motors vibrating in my skull. I reached, tried to bend their servos to lock up, but Vanko was there too, his coding fighting me. Every move I made, he countered.

“He’s in their guts,” I muttered. “Remote override. Strong.”

Atlas (Darry) bulldozed forward through the chaos, grabbing one drone by the leg and slamming it into another, like smashing toys together. Sparks flew.

“Rhodey!” Stark shouted, firing a repulsor blast at War Machine’s chest. The armor staggered, but Rhodey didn’t move on his own. His cannons swiveled toward Stark.

Jokester (Two-Bit) cracked a grin, even as we dove behind wreckage.

“Well, this is awkward!” Jokester (Two-Bit) joked. “He’s lookin’ at you like you owe him money!”

“Not funny!” Stark snapped.

“Didn’t say it was!” Jokester (Two-Bit) snapped back.

War Machine fired. Stark went flying back into the stage wall, armor screeching.

“Tony!” Pulse (Soda) shouted, but he was already back at Stark’s side, pulling him up before the drones closed in.

Mindlight (Pony) was pale, his glow dimming.

“He’s trying to fight it,” Mindlight (Pony) said. “Rhodey’s… he’s still in there.” His voice cracked. “But he’s drowning under it.”

“Breaker (Steve)!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

“I’m trying!” I growled, focusing harder, my hand outstretched. I felt War Machine’s armor buck, gears straining, servos twitching against Vanko’s grip. Rhodey’s mind flickered like static, buried under the hijack. For a second, I thought I had him…

But then Vanko’s voice thundered across every speaker.

“You can’t win, Stark,” Vanko sneered. “You can’t win, Strays. Tonight, the world sees your weakness!”

Every drone’s weapons are armed in unison. Red lights burned.

Ash (Johnny) gritted his teeth, flames flickering across his arms.

“Then we burn ‘em down,” Ash (Johnny) said.

The drones moved like a swarm, metal claws and red optics gleaming under the Expo lights. Vanko wasn’t playing games. He had Rhodey in a chokehold inside that War Machine armor, and the rest of us were stuck fighting a mechanical army in the middle of a crowded venue.

“Pulse (Soda), keep civilians moving!” I barked.

Pulse (Soda) was already gone in a streak of speed, weaving through panicked crowds, his smile turning fear into calm even as blaster fire cut the air behind him.

“Come on, folks!” Pulse (Soda) called. “Exit’s this way, think of it as the world’s deadliest carnival ride!”

Mindlight’s (Pony) shield flickered, another volley smashing into his construct of light. He staggered, sweat dripping down his temple.
“I can hold ‘em off, but not forever!” Mindlight (Pony) called.

“Then don’t,” Reckless (Dally) called.

Reckless (Dally) dove forward, taking a full blast to the chest, stumbling but grinning as energy crawled across his skin.

“Hit me harder, you bastards,” Reckless (Dally) sneered. He turned, fists glowing with the kinetic charge, and punched one drone in half, sparks spraying.

Jokester (Two-Bit) hurled a length of broken railing like a javelin. It shouldn’t have landed. It shouldn’t even have flown straight. But luck bent the rules for him; it skewered one drone right through its core, sending it collapsing in a heap.

“That’s what ya get for overcharging the popcorn!” Jokester (Two-Bit) crowed.

Ash’s (Johnny) flames surged, a storm of fire wrapping around him as he whipped a cloak of ash into a drone’s optics, blinding it long enough for Atlas (Darry) to tear it apart.

Me? I had to dig deep. I focused on the hum inside the machines, the heart of their mechanics. One by one, I found weak points, servos, joints, gear cogs, and forced them to grind out of sync. A drone’s leg locked mid-stride, sending it tumbling. Another’s weapons stuttered before sparking out entirely.

But Vanko was strong. For every drone I froze, he rebooted another.

And then War Machine fired again.

The cannon blast streaked past Stark and nearly took out Atlas (Darry) before he shoved a piece of the collapsed stage in front of it like a shield.

“Rhodey’s in there!” Mindlight (Pony) shouted, voice breaking as his glow flared brighter. “I can feel him, he’s still fighting!” He winced, doubling over as Rhodey’s panic and rage bled into him. “But he’s trapped!”

“Then get him out!” Stark snapped, launching a volley of repulsors at a line of drones closing in. “We’re running out of time!”

Mindlight’s (Pony) glow sharpened. His eyes burned white.

“Rhodey, listen to me!” Mindlight’s (Pony) voice rang out, not just here, but inside the mental static. I felt it, like he was shouting into a storm. “You’re stronger than this! You’re not his puppet!”

For a heartbeat, War Machine’s cannons wavered.

“No!” Vanko snarled over the speakers. “He is mine!”

I pushed harder, forcing the gears in Rhodey’s armor to twitch against the override. Mindlight’s (Pony) telepathy and my mechanics it wasn’t enough alone, but together we cracked through.
War Machine froze. The glow in his eyes flickered from red back to normal.

Then Rhodey’s voice broke free, ragged but furious.

“I got somethin’ for you, Ivan,” Rhodey said.

He turned his shoulder cannon and blasted a drone clean in half.

“Yeah, baby!” Stark laughed, relief mixing with adrenaline. “Welcome back, partner.”

The crowd of drones closed in again, surrounding Stark, Rhodey, and the Strays.

“Circle up!” I shouted.

We fell into formation, Atlas (Darry) at the front, Reckless (Dally) charging up hits, Ash (Johnny) throwing flame outward like artillery, Pulse (Soda) weaving between us like lightning, Jokester (Two-Bit) laughing his way into improbable takedowns, Mindlight (Pony) shielding, me bending gears wherever I could.

The drones collapsed on us from all sides.

It was chaos, metal tearing, fire roaring, light shattering against blasts. Stark and Rhodey fought back-to-back, repulsors and cannons in sync. Every time one of us faltered, another stepped up. Pulse (Soda) pulled a family out of the line of fire. Atlas (Darry) bulldozed through three drones at once. Ash (Johnny) scorched the air, smothering rockets before they detonated.

And finally, there were no drones left standing.

Just sparks and smoking wreckage littering the Expo floor.

We barely had time to breathe.

Because then Vanko himself arrived.

The ground shook as he landed, clad in upgraded armor, whips crackling with enough electricity to fry a tank. His grin was pure malice.

“Now we finish this,” Vanko sneered.

“Round two,” Reckless (Dally) spat, charging forward.

But Stark raised a hand.

“No, Rhodey, you remember that move we talked about?” Stark said.

Rhodey grinned, cannons spinning up.

“Oh yeah,” Rhodey said.

They blasted together, crossing repulsor and cannon fire in a single overloaded burst that hit Vanko dead center. His suit screeched, electricity sparking wildly, systems shorting out.

Ash (Johnny) and I finished it, me locking his servos from the inside, Ash’s (Johnny) fire searing across his armor. The whips sparked once more, then died.

Vanko collapsed in a heap of smoldering metal.

And then his suit began to beep.

“Self-destruct!” Mindlight (Pony) shouted, his glow already flaring.

“Scatter!” Atlas (Darry) roared.

We grabbed civilians, dragging them out as Mindlight (Pony) cast a shield around the core of the blast zone. Stark and Rhodey pulled wide. Ash (Johnny) threw his cloak of ash thick as smoke, smothering fire as best he could. The explosion ripped through the Expo, shaking the ground, but Mindlight’s (Pony) shield held. Barely.

When the light faded, all that was left was silence, smoke, and the groan of twisted metal.

We stood in the wreckage, battered, singed, and alive.

Tony’s mask peeled back, sweat dripping down his face. He exhaled shakily, glancing at Rhodey, then at us.

“Okay… I’ll admit it,” Stark said with a smirk. “I might’ve needed backup on this one.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) chuckled, brushing ash off his shirt.

“Glad we could keep ya from being Stark char-broil,” Jokester (Two-Bit) teased.

Atlas (Darry) sighed, folding his arms.

“This is only the beginning,” Atlas (Darry) said. “Men like Vanko… they don’t stop. And neither can we.”

For once, Tony didn’t have a comeback.

Just a quiet nod.

Chapter Text

Chapter 34

Dally’s POV

The air still stank of smoke and burnt wires when the SHIELD suits swooped in. Sirens, flashing lights, the whole nine yards, like they hadn’t shown up late to the damn party.

I sat on a busted chunk of concrete, rubbing my jaw where one of those drones had smacked me good. Hurt like hell. But it also left me with enough juice buzzing through my veins that I felt more alive than I had in weeks. That’s the thing about takin’ hits, every one of ‘em only makes me stronger. Right now? I was practically humming.

Ponyboy stood nearby, pale and sweaty, his light flickering faintly at his fingertips. Kid had shielded half the city from that blast, and it looked like it damn near drained the life outta him. Darry hovered at his side, fussing like the old man he is, scolding him for pushing too far while checking him over for burns.

“Felt what I had to,” Pony muttered, voice thin. “Better me than the crowd.”

“Better you and the crowd safe,” Darry shot back, his hand on Pony’s shoulder. “Responsibility doesn’t mean burning yourself out.”
I snorted—same lecture, different day.

Pepper rushed over next, heels clicking sharply against the cracked pavement, her face flushed with worry. She didn’t give a damn about the rubble, just about Tony. She threw herself at him, brushing dirt off his suit like it mattered.

“You could’ve died,” Pepper hissed at him, eyes shining.

Tony, still helmet-off, tried that half-smirk he thought could fix anything.

“Yeah, but didn’t I look good doing it?” Tony said.

Pepper smacked him in the chest, and for a second, the whole team, Strays included, busted up laughing—even me. Guess we needed it.

Then Fury showed up. And with him, the mood flipped.

The guy had a presence; it didn’t matter if half the city was in ruins, he walked in like he owned the place. His one eye locked on Tony first, then swept over us like we were cards laid out on a table.

“Well,” Fury said, voice calm but sharp, “that could’ve gone worse.”

“Could’ve gone better, too,” I muttered, crossing my arms. His eye flicked to me, but I didn’t flinch.

Natasha was right behind him, arms folded, face unreadable. Coulson, too, scribbling notes on a clipboard like none of us could see.

“Mr. Stark,” Fury started, pulling a slim folder from under his arm. “We need to talk. About the future.” He dropped the folder on a nearby table with a flat thunk.

The words AVENGER INITIATIVE were stamped right across the front.

Tony cocked his head, curious but guarded, like a cat sniffing out whether the food in the bowl was poisoned.

“Sounds important,” Tony said.

“It is,” Fury said. “We’re assembling something bigger than any one person. You’ve got potential. They…” he motioned at us “...have already been operating under our radar for years. But teamwork isn’t just about saving the day. It’s about control, responsibility, and knowing when not to go off the rails.”

“That last part wasn’t exactly aimed at us, was it?” Steve asked dryly.

Fury didn’t answer, but his smirk said plenty.

Tony flipped open the folder, skimming fast. Photos of him, battle reports, Stark tech blueprints. Then other pages, our faces. The Strays. Pony glowing mid-battle, Darry throwing a car like it was scrap metal, Soda a blur caught on a security cam, me with half a building collapsed at my feet.

“They’ve been watching us?” Johnny asked, voice low.

“Long time,” Natasha said evenly. “We evaluate assets. That’s the job.”

Tony closed the folder, tapped it against the table, and leaned back with a little shrug.

“So what’s the verdict?” Tony asked. “Do I make the cut?”

Fury’s expression didn’t change.

“For the initiative?” Fury said stoically. “Not yet. You’re not ready. And neither are they.” He flicked his gaze over us again. “But the world’s changing. Fast. You’ll have your moment.”

The tension hung thick. Then Two-Bit grinned and broke it.

“So lemme get this straight, we’re superheroes, but on probation?” Two-Bit joked. “Like a cosmic time-out?”

Nobody laughed but him.

Fury just turned away, already giving orders.

“Stark,” Fury said. “Strays. Get some rest. You’re gonna need it.”

Later, Stark leaned against his car, folder still in his hand. Pepper hovered close, arms crossed, concern still written all over her face. He flicked the file open again, then looked over at us.

“You guys ever get the feeling,” Tony said slowly, “that we just got drafted into something we didn’t sign up for?”

“Buddy,” I said, lighting a cigarette with a little leftover spark from my arm, “welcome to our whole damn lives.”

“You know that’s a nasty habit, right?” Tony quipped, voice rough from the fight.

I smirked.

“Yeah, well,” I drawled. “Guess I got a thing for nasty habits.”

Tony chuckled, but it didn’t last long. The weight of that folder was dragging his smirk down every time he looked at it.

That’s when Soda’s phone buzzed. Correction, all our comms buzzed, synced to the SHIELD frequency, whether we liked it or not. Fury’s voice cut through, sharp and urgent.

“Strays,” Fury said. “We’ve got a situation. Gamma signature flare in South America. Banner’s been spotted. Ross has the military on him. I need containment, not a war zone. You’re up.”
Johnny shifted uneasily, ash curling off his jacket sleeve.

“Banner?” Johnny asked nervously. “As in..”

Pony cut in, voice tight, his empathy already drowning in the storm.

“He means the Hulk,” Pony said grimly.

None of us said anything for a beat. Even Two-Bit’s usual wisecracks died in his throat.

“Gear up,” Darry grumbled.

“Good luck,” Tony said, raising his glass. “It looks like you’re needed already.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I sneered. “When aren’t we?”

“Another fucking babysitting job,” Steve sneered.

A SHIELD transport had us wheels up within the hour, slicing through the dark sky toward Rio. No Tony Stark. No flashy billion-dollar armor. Just us.

Coulson briefed us mid-flight, his voice clipped as ever.

“Banner’s been in hiding, but Ross’s men cornered him,” Coulson said. “Once he turns, it won’t just be soldiers at risk; it’ll be civilians. Your orders are simple: protect the people, contain the fallout.
You do not engage Banner directly unless absolutely necessary.”

“Define ‘absolutely necessary,’” I muttered around my cigarette.

Coulson didn’t look up from his folder.

“If he starts tearing down the city with you still in it,” Coulson deadpanned.

Two-Bit grinned like that was the best punchline he’d ever heard.

We didn’t get downtime. Not really. One minute, we were trading snark with Stark, the next, SHIELD was paging us about some “green anomaly” in South America. Fury’s orders when we landed were clipped: track it, observe, keep civilians alive.

Didn’t take long to find the trail; it led straight to the crowded streets of Rio’s favelas. Narrow alleys, laundry strung between windows, the smell of sweat and oil in the air. Banner had been hiding here. Living quietly. Trying to keep the monster on a leash.

And then Ross’s army barged in, shoving guns into every dark corner.

We followed the tension like smoke to fire, weaving through streets as Ross’s men boxed Banner into an old bottling factory.

“Cornering him like a rat,” Atlas (Darry) muttered under his breath. His jaw was set like stone. “This’ll end badly.”

No kidding.

Inside, it was all steam, broken glass, and heavy shadows. Banner was there, sweating, panicked, trying to keep control. The soldiers were barking, advancing, tasers and tranquilizers trained.

Mindlight (Pony) stiffened beside me, his glow faint but pulsing.

“He’s fighting it,” Mindlight (Pony) whispered into my head. “He’s terrified of letting go.”

Didn’t matter. Fear doesn’t stop the change.

A roar split the air, low and primal, and the factory shook. Bottles shattered off the lines. Shadows swelled, and then there he was, massive, green, unstoppable.

The Hulk.

Ross’s men opened fire. It didn’t matter. Rounds sparked off his skin like raindrops on metal. He swiped an entire line of soldiers into the wall with one arm.

“Strays!” Atlas (Darry) barked. “Civilians first!”

We scattered into motion.

Pulse (Soda) blurred through the factory, dragging trapped workers out of collapsing stairwells. Breaker (Steve) ripped control from a jeep outside, slamming its gears into reverse before it could mow down a fleeing crowd. Ash (Johnny) threw up a wall of ash, thick and suffocating, blinding the soldiers’ aim.

I took the gunfire that missed Hulk, let it slam into me, let the force crawl into my bones, feed the fire in my veins. Then I slammed it back into the ground as a shockwave, rattling the walls, knocking rifles from their hands.

And still, the big guy raged.

Blonsky showed up then. Different than the rest of the grunts, faster, sharper, cocky. Enhanced. I didn’t know what Ross had done to him, but I knew trouble when I saw it. He darted across catwalks, unloading rounds, taunting Hulk like he was hunting sport.

“Guy’s got a death wish,” Jokester (Two-Bit) whistled from the rafters, his grin twisted. “Place your bets, boys.”

The bet didn’t last long. Hulk caught him mid-dash, fist slamming him into the wall with a crunch that made my stomach twist.

“Idiot,” I muttered, lighting a cigarette on my own damn palm as I let the heat roll off me.

We tried to pull Ross’s men back, buy them space, but it was like throwing pebbles in a hurricane. Hulk ripped through the factory, tossing beams, shredding jeeps, roaring so loud my teeth rattled.

And then, he bolted. Smashed through the wall and tore into the night, leaving soldiers, Strays, and broken steel behind.

The silence after was heavier than the fight itself. Smoke and ash clung to us like a second skin.

Ash’s (Johnny) cloak of ash folded around the team as Ross screamed outside, demanding pursuit.

“That wasn’t a fight,” Atlas (Darry) muttered. His voice carried the weight of truth. “That was a warning.”

I felt it too. We hadn’t seen Hulk’s full fury. Not even close.

And something told me, we would.

The factory was nothing but smoke and sirens in the distance by the time we pulled out. Ross was barking orders, scrambling his men, cursing that he’d lost the prize. But I knew better. You don’t lose the Hulk. He leaves when he wants.

And sure enough, Banner, what was left of him, didn’t get far.

We tracked him through the jungle. Quiet. Careful. No SHIELD tech, no Ross’s floodlights. Just us and the night.

I could feel it in my bones, the shift of his trail. From torn trees and broken metal to lighter prints in the dirt, bare feet staggering. He’d burned himself out. Hulk had vanished, leaving only the man in the wreckage.

Soda was the first to hear him, his head cocking like a hound.

“This way,” Soda said. He was a blur between the palms, slowing just enough for us to keep sight.

We found Banner at the edge of a riverbed, half-naked, bruised all over, mud streaked on his skin. He looked like he’d crawled through hell barefoot and came out begging for mercy. His breaths were ragged, shallow.

Pony knelt first, the glow in his eyes soft but steady.

“He’s…empty,” Pony whispered. “He gave everything to keep it locked in. He’s scared we’re here to cage him.”

Banner flinched when Darry’s shadow fell over him.

“Stay back… please,” Banner’s voice cracked. “I don’t… I can’t…”

Darry raised his hands—big, calloused, but steady as a rock. “We ain’t here to chain you, doc. Just makin’ sure you don’t keel over in the dirt.”

I crouched down, lit a cigarette off my own hand. The smoke curled, stinging the air between us.

“Hell of a temper you got there, Banner,” I said with a smirk. “Guessin’ you don’t wanna talk about it?”

He gave this weak, tired laugh that sounded more like a sob.

“You have no idea…” Banner choked.

Johnny knelt next to him, pulling his ash around like a blanket, shading Banner from the chill.

“We know more than you think,’ Johnny murmured. His voice was quiet, the kind that carried when nothing else could.

Banner’s eyes flicked up, glassy and desperate.

“I can’t… control it,” Banner said weakly.

Pony leaned in, his voice almost a whisper.

“But you try,” Pony said quietly. “That’s what matters.”

For a long time, none of us said a word. Just stood in the forest shadows with a man who carried a monster under his skin, all of us knowing what it felt like to be cursed with something bigger than we asked for.

Finally, Darry broke it.

“You ain’t alone anymore,” Darry said. “Ross doesn’t get to decide what you are. We’ll figure this out.”

Banner’s eyes closed, his body sagging. Not trust exactly, not yet, but surrender.

We carried him out of that forest before Ross’s dogs could catch the scent.

And in my gut, I knew: this wasn’t the end. Banner wasn’t just some scientist gone wrong. He was a storm waiting to break. And when it did, we’d either be the ones holding him back or the ones standing beside him.

Chapter Text

Chapter 35

Johnny’s POV

“Well, Banner,” I said. “Where do we need to go now?”

“I need to get to Culver University,” Bruce said eagerly.

“You sure that’s smart?” Pony asked. “You did just Hulk out.”

“Nice joke there, Pone,” Two-Bit joked.

“I don’t think that was a joke, Two,” Dally grumbled. “You’re so gullible.”

Bruce sighed.

“I just need to ok,” Bruce begged. “Please.”

Darry sighed.

“Fine,” Darry grumbled. “But don’t make us regret it.”

We took Bruce to the Quinjet and flew out of the jungle to Culver University.

When we arrived, I was a bit nervous. There were many people about.

“Y’know this is a bad idea, right?” Dally muttered as we slipped through the tree line bordering the quad. He kept his voice low, but you could feel the tension buzzing off him like a live wire.

“We’re hand-delivering the guy with a green nuclear bomb in his veins to his old stomping grounds,” Dally grumbled. “Real smart.”

Banner adjusted the cap on his head, jaw tight.

“I just need to see her,” Banner pleaded. “Nothing more.”

“See who?” Steve asked.

“Betty,” Banner said.

“Isn’t that Ross’s daughter?” Pony asked wide-eyed.

“I think our boy’s smitten,” Two-Bit teased.

Soda gave Bruce that half-grin of his, even though you could tell he was ready to bolt if things turned south.

“Buddy, you’re lucky my charm works better on campus security than your face does,” Soda said. “But you’ve got, like, ten minutes tops before someone notices.”

Darry crossed his arms, still looming over all of us.

“Five,” Darry corrected.

I didn’t say anything, just flicked a speck of ash off my glove, keeping my eyes on Banner. The guy wasn’t lying. His heartbeat told the whole story, ragged, sharp, desperate. He needed this.

We stayed back under the cover of an oak tree, watching him walk out into the open. That’s when she appeared—Dr. Betty Ross, arms stacked with folders, laughing at something a colleague said.

Banner froze mid-step. Everything in him just… stopped.

Pony’s eyes glowed faintly, like he was seeing the storm in Banner’s chest.

“He doesn’t want her to see him,” Pony whispered. “Just… to know she’s okay.” His voice was soft, almost reverent.

Steve exhaled through his nose, adjusting the strap on his jacket.

“Still risky,” Steve muttered. “He lights up in front of her, we’ll have the military crawling this place in minutes.”

But Banner didn’t move closer. Didn’t call out. He just stood there, drinking her in from across the quad like she was the sun he hadn’t seen in years.

I felt the burn in my chest, not from fire, but from something rawer. A guy willing to risk everything just for one stolen glimpse, that wasn’t weakness. That was a strength in a different way.

Soda finally broke the silence.

“Alright, professor,” Soda said gently. “You’ve seen her. Time to ghost.”

Banner lingered a second longer, then pulled his cap lower and turned back toward us, his shoulders heavy but his eyes carrying a flicker of peace we hadn’t seen before.

We slipped back into the trees, quiet, leaving behind the sound of college laughter echoing across the campus lawn.

“Where to now, big guy?” Dally asked.

“I’ve got to see Stanley,” Banner said.

“Who the hell is Stanley?” Darry grumbled. “The more people who see you, the more you are in danger of getting caught.”

But I could tell Bruce wasn’t moving on the idea of seeing Stanley.

“Just go with it, Darry,” I said. “He needs it.”

Darry sighed and nodded reluctantly.

Stanley’s Pizza Parlor sat on a corner that smelled of dough and oregano even from across the street. It made my mouth water.

“This smells so good,” Steve said, licking his lips.

The neon sign buzzed faintly and then cut out as Stanley closed shop.

“Too bad, too sad,” Pony teased.

Banner hesitated at the door.

“He’s an old friend,” Banner explained. “I just… need to check in.”

“Relax,” Two-Bit said. “We look like a college intramural team grabbing a bite with their coach. Ain’t nobody gonna know half of us can bench press tanks or catch bullets with their teeth.”
Dally smirked.

“Speak for yourself,” Dally said. “I definitely don’t look like a college kid.”

“Or act like one,” Soda threw in, darting ahead to yank the door open in a blur before Banner could. “C’mon, professor. Pizza smells better than paranoia.”

Inside, the place was warm, familiar, with red-checkered tablecloths, clinking dishes, and grease-stained menus. And behind the counter, Stanley. Same salt-and-pepper hair, same tired smile that cracked wide when his eyes landed on Banner.

“Bruce?” The old man’s voice broke just a little, but it carried.

Banner’s face softened, the first time I’d seen the tension slide off him since we met. He stepped forward, voice low but steady.

“Hi, Stanley,” Bruce said warmly.

The man came out from behind the counter, pulled him into a hug that looked like it surprised them both.

“Thought I’d never see you again,” Stanley muttered.

“Yeah, well… it’s complicated,” Banner said, half-smile tugging his lips.

Pony shifted beside me, eyes flickering faintly. He didn’t speak, but I could feel what he was sensing: waves of loyalty, nostalgia, and pain all tangled up between the two men. It almost made me forget we were hiding from half the U.S. military.

Stanley finally noticed the rest of us lingering awkwardly near the doorway.

“You brought friends. Big ones.” He gave Darry a once-over and laughed. “Guess you’ve been busy.”

Breaker coughed into his fist, avoiding the look.

“Something like that,” Banner said quickly.

Stanley didn’t press. He just clapped Bruce’s shoulder and grinned.

“Well, you’re here, and you’re family,” Stanley said. “Which means you’re all family. Sit down. You look like you could use a slice.”

Soda was already halfway into a booth.

“Didn’t have to tell me twice,” Soda said.

The night carried easily after that. Banner even cracked a real smile, the kind that didn’t feel borrowed. For a few minutes, he wasn’t a man on the run or a monster hiding under his skin. He was just Bruce, someone who belonged, if only in the corner of a pizza parlor.

But in the back of my head, the ash was already whispering. Moments like this? They didn’t last. Not for guys like us.

I watched as Bruce talked with Stanley, and Bruce’s sad smile when he talked about Betty.

“He really misses her,” I said.

“He kind of reminds me of how Soda looks when he talks about Sandy,” Pony murmured.

“I wonder what happened to her,” Darry said.

“Probably nothing good,” Dally grumbled. “Soda’s better off.”

Soda slid back into the booth after using the restroom.

“What did I miss?” Soda asked.

“Nothing,” Steve said. “Just idle chatter.”

Two-Bit hopped back into the booth after grabbing another slice of pizza.

“Stanley is letting Bruce and us sleep over,” Two-Bit said. “But Bruce wants to go back to Culver University tomorrow.”

“Great,” Dally muttered. “Just great.”

The morning after the pizza parlor, Banner came to us with a plan that sounded like it belonged in one of Two-Bit’s jokes.

“A pizza deliveryman?” Dally had nearly spit out his coffee. “That’s your master plan to sneak into one of the most secure labs in the country?”

Banner just adjusted the worn green jacket Stanley had given him and shrugged.

“Nobody notices the guy with the food,” Banner explained. “Trust me.”

Darry crossed his arms, skeptical.

“Banner, if this goes wrong…” Darry warned.

“Then we improvise,” Steve cut in, stretching his fingers like he was itching to pull at every gear in the building. “And besides, it’s not the worst cover I’ve seen.”

Soda was already grinning ear to ear.

“At least he’ll look legit. I’ve never seen anyone deny a guy holding a pizza box,” Soda said. “Especially if they’re being bribed with pizza.

So we went with it.

“We’re so doomed,” Pony groaned.

“Let’s just hope it works,” I murmured.

Banner walked up to the Culver security desk, holding a cardboard box that smelled like oregano and grease. We spread out behind him, pretending we were just friends tagging along to grab a slice.

The guard glanced up, frowning.

“Deliveries go around back,” The guard said.

Banner leaned in slightly, voice calm but tight.

“This is for Dr. Crenshaw on the third floor,” Bruce said smoothly. “He ordered it special, said it had to come quick.”

The guard hesitated. Banner slid a ten-dollar bill between the greasy box and the man’s clipboard.

“Extra tip if it gets there hot,” Banner elaborated.

The guard smirked, took the bill, and buzzed him through.

I caught Soda’s grin.

“Told you,” Soda said smugly. “Nobody denies pizza.”

We moved through the hallways like we’d been there a hundred times. I kept close to Banner, ash swirling faintly under my skin, just in case. When we reached the third floor, the familiar white corridors hit him hard. He stopped outside the lab door, the lab where everything went wrong for him.

I saw it on his face, the weight, the ghosts. Pony laid a hand on his arm, eyes faintly glowing.

“Breathe,” Pony whispered. “Don’t let the past take you down before you finish what you came for.”

Banner nodded, then pushed through.

Inside, the computer room was dim, sterile. Rows of monitors flickered. Banner set the pizza box on the counter, sat at a terminal, and typed with the precision of a man who hadn’t forgotten a single keystroke in five years.

“Credentials,” Steve muttered. “How’s he…”

But Banner was already typing in RossB. A password screen flickered. He hesitated, then typed again. The system unlocked.

“Betty…” Bruce whispered, voice tight.

“What are you looking for?” Darry muttered.

“My old data,” Bruce said. “But it’s gone.”

“That’s dangerous,” Two-Bit said, wide-eyed.

“Dangerous is the understatement of the year,” Dally muttered. “We’re watching him dig through the match that lit the fire in the first place.”

The screen reflected in Banner’s glasses. His breathing hitched, faster now. He was searching for something, an answer, maybe even a cure. He started an instant encrypted message with someone.

“Who are you messaging?” Soda asked.

“None of your business,” Banner grunted.

“It is our damn business,” I said.

Pony gave me the calm-down look.

I felt the ash shift inside me, restless. This wasn’t gonna stay quiet forever. Sooner or later, someone was gonna notice Bruce Banner wasn’t just a pizza delivery guy.

And when they did, the Hulk would be right behind him.

“Come on, guys,” Bruce said. “What I came for is gone. So we’ve got to keep moving.”

“Sorry, buddy,” Soda said. “Better luck next time.”

That night, Banner’s little room above the parlor looked like a storm had passed through. His duffel lay open on the bed, clothes, and notebooks stuffed inside. He moved with that same anxious rhythm he always had, packing like the world might come crashing down any second.

“You sure about this?” I asked, leaning in the doorway. Ash curled around my shoulders like smoke that hadn’t found fire yet.

“I can’t stay here,” Banner muttered, zipping the bag. “Not with the risk. Not with them still looking.”

Steve frowned from where he sat on the windowsill.

“You just cracked into Culver’s system today,” Steve said. “That’ll put heat on you faster than anything.”

Banner slung the bag over his shoulder and gave a weary nod.

“Exactly why I need to move,” Banner said with a sigh.

He went downstairs to say goodbye to Stanley, and we trailed behind just far enough to give him space. The parlor was quiet, chairs stacked on tables, the smell of dough and sauce still clinging to the air. Banner disappeared into the back to find Stanley.

That’s when the door jingled. Betty Ross walked in, her hair damp from the rain outside, arm linked with Leonard Samson, Doc Samson. My gut twisted. This wasn’t a chance meeting; this was the kind of cruel twist the universe liked throwing Banner’s way.

I froze in the shadows as Banner stepped out of the kitchen just in time to see her. He stopped cold, breath catching. For a heartbeat, the world just… hung there. Betty’s eyes widened, shock flashing across her face.

“Bruce?” Betty whispered.

Banner’s whole body went rigid. He looked like a man who’d been shot, like just hearing his name out of her mouth tore him apart. Then he bolted, slipped through the side door like a ghost.

“Bruce!” Betty cried, pushing past Samson, running after him.

But Banner was already gone, vanishing into the night.

Betty spun on Stanley, desperate.

“Was that him?” Betty asked desperately. “That was him, wasn’t it?”

Stanley, bless him, just wrung his rag in his hands, stammering.

“Betty, I…” Stanley said, at a loss for words.

Betty didn’t wait for an answer. She stormed out, rain catching in her hair as Samson tried to follow.

Meanwhile, we had our orders without anyone needing to speak them; we were after Banner.

We caught him two blocks down, hunched against a dumpster in a narrow alleyway, the rain soaking him through. His duffel clung to his shoulder like dead weight. He looked more broken than I’d ever seen him.

Soda was the first to reach him, hands on his knees, catching his breath. “Man, you can run from the whole damn army, but one look at her and you’re wrecked.”

“Leave it,” Banner rasped, his voice shaking. Rainwater streaked down his face, but I could tell it wasn’t just rain in his eyes.

Pony crouched beside him, quiet, glowing faintly in the gloom. I felt him reaching out, nudging Banner’s emotions, steadying him.

“She still loves you,” Pony said softly. “That’s why it hurt so much to see you. That’s why she chased you.”

Banner’s hands clenched into fists.

“I can’t…she can’t…” Banner’s voice cracked. “I bring nothing but danger to her. You don’t understand.”

Dally leaned against the alley wall, rain running down his leather jacket.

“Oh, we understand, Banner,” Dally drawled. “Hell, we live it every damn day. Running, hiding, bleeding, trying to keep the people we care about safe by pushing ‘em away. Don’t think you’re the only one who’s got scars.”

Steve tilted his head.

“Still, the guy’s got a point,” Steve grumbled. “He can’t exactly hand Betty a bouquet and a Hulk-free life, can he?”

Darry stepped forward, voice firm.

“Doesn’t mean he runs forever,” Darry said. “You can’t fix what’s broken by pretending it isn’t there.”

Banner just shook his head, shoulders sagging.

“You don’t know what happens when I lose control,” Banner said.

I crouched, meeting his eyes. The rain hissed softly off the ash smoldering around me.

“We’ve seen it, Bruce,” I said gently. “And we’re still here.”

He looked at me, then at all of us, his eyes tired, his heart raw. Finally, he just buried his face in his hands.

For a long moment, none of us said anything. The rain fell, the city hummed, and Banner’s silence spoke louder than anything else.

Chapter Text

Chapter 36

Pony’s POV

“I just need to walk a little bit more,” Bruce murmured. “I just need to get myself together. You can tag along, you’re supposed to. But could you do it from a distance?”

“Sure, Banner,” Darry said with a sigh. “Just don’t do anything stupid.

The rain came down in sheets, cold and relentless, soaking through my jacket as we trailed Bruce down the dimly lit street. His shoulders were hunched, his steps heavy like the weight of the whole world was pressing him into the pavement. I could feel it radiating off him, the exhaustion, the loneliness, that bone-deep guilt he carried like a second skin. It hit me in bursts through my powers, sharp as glass. He wanted to keep running. He always did.

I picked up my pace, trying not to lose him in the blur of headlights and rain. “Bruce, just stop running for once,” I thought, sending out a wave of calm his way, a subtle nudge of light through the storm.

Then the headlights cut through the downpour, blinding me. A car pulled up fast behind Bruce, brakes screeching.

“Bruce!” a voice called, muffled by the storm but clear enough to stop him in his tracks.

Betty Ross.

He froze like he’d been struck. I saw his chest rise and fall quickly, like he didn’t dare turn around, didn’t dare hope.

The door slammed, and she was running toward him, her umbrella forgotten, hair plastered against her face by the rain.

“Bruce,” Betty breathed again, like just saying his name was proof he was really standing there.

I felt the tidal wave hit, her relief crashing into his fear, her love against his shame. It tore through me so strongly I had to take a step back, hand braced against the wet brick of the alley wall.

“Betty, don’t…” Bruce’s voice broke, raw, pleading.

But she didn’t stop. She threw her arms around him, burying herself in his soaked jacket, holding on like she wasn’t ever gonna let go. And for the first time since I’d known him, Bruce Banner let someone anchor him. His head dropped, his hand gripping the back of her coat. The tension in him eased, just barely.

“Guess some things hit harder than the Hulk,” Soda muttered with a crooked smile.

“Yeah,” I said quietly, the light in my chest flickering warm for the first time all night. “Some things do.”

The rain kept pouring, but it didn’t matter. Betty had found him.

And maybe, just maybe, Bruce wasn’t as lost as he thought.

The storm finally eased, but the streets still gleamed wet, reflecting headlights like shards of broken glass. Bruce stood there with Betty holding onto him, her face pressed into his chest like she was afraid he’d vanish if she let go. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, and then his hand rested on her back, hesitant but real.

“Come with me,” Betty whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him. Her voice cracked. “Please, Bruce. Just… come home with me.”

I felt it, the war raging inside him. His fear, hot and sharp, collides with the steady warmth pouring from her. He wanted to run, to vanish back into the shadows, but she wasn’t letting him.
Bruce finally nodded, a tiny movement, but enough.

We followed them quietly, the Strays trailing a few steps behind like shadows. Soda shot me a look, rain dripping off his chin. “You feelin’ this too?” Soda’s look said.

“Every bit of it,” I muttered back. My chest was raw with the emotions bouncing between them: love, guilt, and desperation. It hurt to carry, but I didn’t shut it out. Bruce deserved someone to feel it with him.

Betty’s house was warm, with golden light spilling from the lamps as she led him inside. It smelled faintly of coffee and old books, like a home that had lived through years without him.
Betty helped him out of his wet jacket, fussing like she didn’t care that water was dripping on the floor.

“You’re freezing,” Betty murmured, brushing his hair back from his face.

Bruce tried to pull away.

“Betty, it’s not safe…” Bruce protested.

“Stop,” Betty said firmly, her voice catching but strong. “Don’t you dare say that. You don’t get to decide what’s safe for me anymore.” Her hand lingered on his cheek, trembling. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.”

I sat at the edge of the couch with Soda and Johnny while Darry and Steve stood near the door, giving them space. Dally leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his face unreadable. Two-Bit fiddled with a coaster, trying to break the tension but staying uncharacteristically quiet.

Bruce’s gaze flickered to us for the first time, guilt etching deep lines in his face.

“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” Bruce said guiltily. “Any of you.”

“Relax, Doc,” Dally drawled, his tone rough but not unkind. “We’ve been through worse. If this is what you need… then we’re right where we’re supposed to be.”

Betty’s eyes softened as she looked at us.

“Thank you,” Betty whispered.

Bruce closed his eyes like the words cut and healed all at once.

“I didn’t want to drag anyone into this life,” Bruce said. “Not you… not them.”

I leaned forward, the light in me flickering just enough to steady his storm.

“You’re not dragging us anywhere, Bruce,” I said. “We’re here because we want to be. And because you deserve not to be alone in this.”

For a moment, the weight in the room lifted. Betty reached for his hand, squeezing it, grounding him.

And for the first time since we’d found him, I felt a sliver of peace in Bruce Banner’s heart.

By the time we all settled in, the rain outside had faded into a faint tapping on the windows. Betty had done her best to make everyone comfortable, adding an extra blanket here and a pillow there. She even apologized for not having enough beds for us all, but we’d slept in worse places: alleys, abandoned churches, safehouses with SHIELD breathing down our necks. This? This was luxury.
Betty gave Bruce a small smile before heading upstairs, leaving him standing in the living room, staring like he couldn’t quite believe he was back in her world. The firelight flickered across his face, pulling out the lines of exhaustion.

“C’mon, Doc,” Darry said softly. “You need rest.”

Bruce nodded but didn’t move until Betty reappeared, gently touching his arm.

“Come on,” Betty whispered. “You’ll stay with me.” Her voice was firm, no room for argument. He hesitated, then finally let her lead him upstairs.

The silence that followed was thick.

Two-Bit broke it first.

“So, uh… who’s callin’ dibs on the couch?” Two-Bit said sheepishly. “I snore, but I also entertain.”

“Couch is yours,” Steve said, already dragging a blanket onto the rug.

Soda grinned, stretching out next to him.

“Floor’s not so bad,” Soda said. “I used to sleep on worse, remember?”

Johnny was curled near the fireplace, letting the last of the flames’ glow ripple across his hands like he was keeping the embers alive. Dally leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes shut but nowhere near asleep.

I sat on the arm of the couch, staring at the ceiling. My head was crowded with what I’d felt, Bruce’s fear, Betty’s hope. It had been pouring into me all evening, and I couldn’t shut it off.

“You okay, Pony?” Soda’s voice was low, gentle.

“Yeah,” I lied, though I kept my voice steady. “Just… it’s a lot.”

Darry shot me a look from where he’d finally stretched out near the door. “

Get some rest,” Darry said with warning. “Tomorrow’s not gonna be any easier.”

He was right, but it was hard to sleep with all that emotion buzzing through me.

I let out a slow breath, trying to push the storm in my chest down into something quiet. Johnny glanced over at me, his eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. He didn’t say anything, just gave me a look that told me he understood—the way he always did.

Two-Bit mumbled something about Betty probably having ice cream in the freezer before he drifted off mid-sentence. Soda chuckled under his breath, but soon his breathing evened out.

I lay back on the couch arm, staring at the shadows dancing on the walls. Upstairs, I could feel the ache in Bruce’s chest easing just a little as Betty whispered to him.

Maybe, for one night, he’d get some peace. And maybe, if I were lucky, I would too.

The morning air was sharp, crisp, too calm for what was about to happen. Walking across the campus with Betty and Bruce felt almost normal: students lugging backpacks, professors calling out last-minute reminders, the hum of everyday life. But underneath it all, I felt a rumble of tension like static clinging to my skin. Bruce’s anxiety rolled off him in heavy waves, choking me even before I noticed the faint echo of engines in the distance.

Then I saw them, green Humvees barreling onto campus, tires tearing up the grass. Soldiers piled out, rifles raised, their formation too clean, too ready. My chest tightened.

“Run!” Atlas (Darry) barked, pushing Bruce forward.

Bruce bolted, Betty right at his side, and the rest of us split, covering, distracting, anything to keep the soldiers from surrounding him.

“Move, move, move!” I heard one of the officers shout.

We tore across campus, Pulse (Soda) blurred into motion, zipping past soldiers and knocking rifles from their hands with a grin sharp enough to rattle their nerves. Jokester (Two-Bit) tossed in his chaos, tripping one soldier with a perfectly timed coffee cup spill that “just happened” to slide across the steps.

“Oops!” Jokester (TwoBit) shouted, hands raised like it was all an accident. “Man, you should watch where you’re walking with those loaded guns!”

Breaker (Steve) threw a hand out, and suddenly one of the Humvees groaned, gears grinding against themselves before the engine choked dead. Soldiers inside cursed, smacking uselessly at the dash.
Bruce ducked into the library, his face pale, his hands fumbling for the data drive he carried. His emotions were a tangle of dread and desperation, and I could feel them pounding against my skull. He pulled the drive free, looked around, and, I winced, swallowed it whole.

Betty stormed out into the chaos, arms raised at the Humvees screeching to a halt in front of her.

“Stop it! Dad, stop this!” Betty's voice cracked with desperation. “You’ll kill him!”

Her father, General Ross, didn’t flinch.

“Get her out of there!” General Ross roared.

Soldiers rushed forward, but before they could reach her, Bruce’s panic snapped like a live wire. My gut churned with a sudden wave of rage, fear, and something massive beneath the surface. I didn’t even need to see it; I could feel it.

The Hulk tore through the greenhouse wall like paper.

One second, it was metal and glass; the next, it was nothing but rubble and a roar that shook the ground. He was huge, green, monstrous, his rage spilling into me so hard it nearly knocked me off my feet. My light flickered at my fingertips without me even trying.

“Holy hell,” Reckless (Dally) muttered, grinning like he’d been waiting his whole life for this. “Now it’s a party.”

Soldiers opened fire, bullets bouncing harmlessly off Hulk’s skin. Hulk roared, grabbed one of the Humvees, and hurled it like it weighed nothing. It landed on the quad with an explosion of metal and fire. Students screamed, scattering in every direction.

“Pulse (Soda), with me!” I shouted to Soda, throwing up a wall of light energy to shield a cluster of students running the wrong way. Pulse (Soda) zipped in and pulled them clear, his charm field calming their panic just enough to get them moving.

Atlas (Darry) marched straight into the fire, bracing his shoulders and physically shoving a Humvee back like it was just another workout.

“Back off!” Atlas (Darry) roared, flipping it onto its side.

Breaker (Steve) clenched his fists, and the wreckage around us responded, doors slamming shut, engines locking down so soldiers couldn’t restart them.

Hulk stomped across the lawn, tearing another vehicle in half. Soldiers scrambled, some running, others shouting for heavier firepower.

And then came Blonsky.

The guy was fast, moving with a precision that didn’t belong to an ordinary soldier. He sprinted right at Hulk, dodging debris, landing clean shots that actually made the monster pause. I felt Blonsky’s thrill, the sharp edge of a man addicted to the fight.

“Maniac,” Ash (Johnny) hissed, ash curling around his fists.

Blonsky darted, leapt, and landed a strike to Hulk’s chest. But Hulk’s rage only grew. With one swipe, he sent Blonsky flying across the quad, bones snapping like dry twigs.
“Guess that answers that,” Jokester (Two-Bit) muttered, wincing. “Don’t poke the giant green bear.”

General Ross shouted for the sonic cannons, and massive trucks rolled forward, their speakers whining to life. A soundwave slammed into us, rattling my bones, forcing me to my knees. Hulk staggered too, roaring in pain.

“Not good!” Pulse (Soda) yelled, covering his ears as he fell out of speed mid-run.

I dug deep, focusing every bit of empathy on Hulk, pushing calm and anything I could to cut through the rage. It was like throwing pebbles into a hurricane. Still, I kept trying, sending out light shields to block the worst of the sound.

Ash (Johnny) stood tall, flames licking up his arms as ash swirled around him like a cloak. He snapped his fingers, and the ash burst into a smokescreen that bought Hulk a moment of cover.
That moment was all he needed.

Hulk grabbed one of the sonic cannons, crushed it like paper, and flung it aside. The other went next, torn in half and hurled across the quad. The shockwave ended, silence broken only by Hulk’s roar and the chaos of retreating soldiers.

Betty stumbled forward through the smoke, arms raised.

“Stop!” Betty cried again, her voice breaking. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

For a moment, Hulk’s rage wavered. I felt it, like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. His glowing eyes landed on her, and for the first time, there was something almost human in them.
And then more gunfire lit the air.

Hulk roared, scooped Betty up in his arms, and leapt clear across campus, vanishing into the treeline in one massive bound.

I stood there, chest heaving, hands still glowing faintly. The quad was ruined, torn apart like a warzone. Soldiers groaned in the grass, Humvees lay crumpled like toys, and the echoes of Hulk’s fury still rang in my ears.

Reckless (Dally) spat on the ground, grinning widely.

“Well,” Reckless (Dally) said, “guess we found Banner.”

“We need to follow him,” Darry said.

“Let’s go then,” Steve sneered. “We don’t have time to waste.”

So, follow him we did.

The world still rattled from Hulk’s roar when we finally caught up to him. The rain came hard, pounding the trees like fists, soaking us to the bone as we followed the trail of broken branches and cratered earth.

Johnny lit the way with faint fire along his fingertips, the glow twisting with the ash that swirled in the storm. Darry marched forward like nothing could slow him down, while Soda darted ahead and back, checking the path with restless energy.

I kept close to Betty. Her emotions were raw, tearing through her like open wounds: fear, hope, and desperation. Every pulse of them hit me like a tide, and I had to grit my teeth just to stay steady.

Finally, we found the cave.

Hulk crouched in the shadows, a hulking silhouette against the jagged stone, rain dripping down his massive shoulders. He still cradled Betty like she was the only anchor holding him to this world.
“Bruce…” Betty whispered. She reached up, her hand brushing his cheek, and his massive form shuddered under her touch. Slowly, painfully, the monster receded. His breathing slowed, his muscles shrinking, his green fading until Bruce Banner knelt there in the mud, trembling but human again.

The relief that poured off him hit me so hard I had to brace a hand against the wall.

Betty wrapped her arms around him, whispering soft words I didn’t dare intrude on.

We hung back, all of us, letting them have that moment. Rain dripped from my hair, plastering it to my face, but I didn’t move. None of us did.

Dally leaned against the cave wall, shaking his head.

“I’ll say it, this guy’s life sucks,” Dally grumbled.

Two-Bit huffed, rain dripping from his nose.

“Least he’s got a girl runnin’ after him,” Two-Bit joked. “If I Hulk out, I’m scaring mine away.”

Steve gave him a side-eye.

“If you Hulk out, the world’s ending,” Steve said.

I barely heard them. My focus was still on Bruce, on the storm inside him that never seemed to stop. His fear of himself, his fury at what Ross had done, his love for Betty. It was all there, tangled and impossible, but for this one fragile moment, Betty’s presence dulled the worst of it.

Darry stepped forward, his voice steady.

“He needs rest,” Darry said. “We all do. Tomorrow’s a fight we’re not ready for yet.”

Bruce looked up at us then, soaked and exhausted, but there was gratitude in his eyes. Not for our strength, not for our powers, but because we’d stayed.

And somehow, standing there in the rain-soaked cave with the sound of Betty’s heartbeat against his chest, it felt like maybe he believed he wasn’t completely alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 37

Soda’s POV

Morning came with gray skies and dripping stone. My back hurt from sleeping against the cave wall, but I’d had worse: floorboards in Tulsa, the backseat of Steve’s car, that time Two-Bit insisted we could all crash in a treehouse.

When I blinked awake, Johnny was already up, coaxing a tiny flame in his palm to fight the damp. The smoke curled in lazy trails, the ash turning the cave air heavier than it already was. He gave me a nod, quietly.

I followed his gaze.

Bruce was curled up on the ground, Betty’s jacket draped over him like a blanket. She sat close, her hand resting on his hair, whispering to him even though he was half-asleep. He looked worn down, hollow, like his body had just gone through a war, which, I guess, it had.

“You know,” Two-Bit muttered groggily from his spot, “for a guy who goes nuclear green and throws tanks around, he snores like a kitten.”

Betty shushed him without even turning her head.

I couldn’t help but smile. My powers, my speed, the way my charm bent tension, were like a hum under my skin. And right now, the whole cave was humming with the kind of relief you get after the worst storm. Even Hulk’s rage wasn’t screaming in my bones anymore. Just quiet.

When Bruce finally stirred, Betty leaned down to whisper in Bruce’s ear.

“It’s okay,” Betty murmured. “You’re safe.”

He blinked up at her, then at the rest of us. His voice was raw, low.

“I… didn’t hurt you?” Bruce asked wearily.

“You saved me,” Betty said softly, brushing damp hair from his forehead. “You saved all of us.”

Bruce shut his eyes again, like the weight of her words was heavier than the rain outside.

Darry stepped forward, hands on his hips, all calm authority.

“We need to move,” Darry said. “Ross won’t stop after yesterday. The longer we stay here, the bigger the target.”

Betty nodded.

“There’s a motel not far from here,” Betty said. “We can at least clean up, get warm.”

I stretched, rolling my shoulders with a grin.

“Now you’re speaking my language,” I said. “Hot water and real beds? Don’t have to tell me twice.”

The motel was one of those roadside ones, flickering neon sign, carpet older than we were, and the faint smell of cigarettes that never really leaves. Still, it felt like heaven.

I zipped past the desk clerk with Betty handling the keys, too fast for the guy to notice we had seven half-soaked, half-bruised strays and one gamma scientist in tow.

By the time we got to the rooms, Two-Bit flopped face-first on the bed with a groan.

“This is it,” Two-Bit groaned. “This is where I live now. Tell SHIELD to send my mail here.”

Steve shook his head but didn’t argue, tugging off his boots with a wince.

Johnny headed straight for the bathroom.

“I call first shower,” Johnny muttered. His fire still flickered faintly on his fingertips, more habit than threat.

I glanced at Bruce. He stood awkwardly by the door, dripping, looking like he didn’t belong anywhere. Betty reached for his hand, steadying him, and just like that, some of the tension in his shoulders eased.

“Doc,” I said, trying for lightness, “you saved us a ton of trouble back there. Don’t think anyone else could’ve cleared out an army like that.”

He gave me the faintest smile, tired but real.

“That’s… not exactly how I’d put it,” Bruce said.

Darry clapped him on the shoulder, careful but firm.

“Doesn’t matter how you put it,” Darry said. “You’re still here. That counts.”

Bruce nodded, and for once, I didn’t feel all that buzzing fear in him. Just exhaustion, and maybe a little hope.

We spread out across the motel room, wet clothes hung over chairs, steam rolling out from the bathroom. Two-Bit is already snoring again. It was messy, loud, and a little ridiculous.

But it was ours.

And for Bruce and Betty, maybe for the first time in a long time, it felt like they weren’t carrying it all alone.

Morning light leaked through the thin motel curtains, turning the room a dull yellow. I sat on the edge of the bed, lacing up my boots, listening to the sounds of everyone else coming alive: Johnny humming under his breath as he fiddled with sparks, Two-Bit cracking jokes about the motel coffee tasting like dirty socks, Steve quietly running his hands along the busted TV until the gears hummed and it flickered back on.

Bruce sat at the small table with Betty, his head in his hands, looking like he’d aged ten years overnight. Betty had one hand on his back, the other clutching a map she’d grabbed from the front desk.

“Ross isn’t going to stop,” Bruce said, his voice gravelly. “He’ll have roadblocks, checkpoints. We can’t stay here.”

Betty leaned closer.

“Then we go,” Betty said. “Keep moving. Find somewhere he can’t reach.”

“That doesn’t exist,” Bruce muttered.

I leaned back in my chair, kicking my boots onto the edge of the bed.

“Not with that attitude,” I said with a smirk. “We just need wheels. Something that doesn’t scream ‘government target.’”

Two-Bit smirked.

“What, like Darry’s truck back home?” Two-Bit teased. “That thing’s more rust than metal.”

Darry gave him a look but didn’t deny it.

“A clunker’s not a bad idea,” Darry admitted. “Nobody looks twice at one.”

Betty tapped the map.

“There’s a lot for sale just outside town,” Betty said. “We might find something there.”

The lot was exactly what I expected, dusty, with faded “For Sale” signs slapped on cars that hadn’t been washed since the Carter administration. A guy in a grease-stained cap barely glanced at us before going back to his paper.

Betty pointed at a boxy old pickup, half primer-gray, half rust.

“That one,” Betty said.

Bruce frowned.

“That thing barely has tires,” Bruce said in disbelief.

Steve put a hand on the hood, eyes flicking shut for a second. The engine gave a reluctant cough, then purred steadily.

“Now it does,” Steve said flatly.

Two-Bit clapped him on the back.

“Steve, you’re a miracle worker,” Two-Bit said with a grin. “If this gig doesn’t pan out, I say we open a mechanic shop. We’ll call it ‘Luck and Wrenches.’”

Dally rolled his eyes.

“You’d blow it up in a week,” Dally grumbled.

Betty handled the cash, probably more than the truck was worth, but nobody argued. We piled in, Darry at the wheel because, of course, he called it. The springs groaned under our weight, but Steve’s fix held, the engine rumbling along steadily as we rolled out of town.

I stretched out in the back, sunglasses on, letting the wind whip my hair.

“See?” I said smoothly. “Not so bad. Who’s gonna suspect the ragtag circus crew in a rust bucket?”

Bruce didn’t laugh, but some of the tension in his face eased as Betty leaned against him, whispering something only he could hear.

I watched them out of the corner of my eye, then looked at the others. For all the chaos, for all the guns and the roars and the near-death close calls, this felt… right. Us, rolling forward, half-broken but still moving.

And if Ross thought an old clunker couldn’t carry trouble, well… he hadn’t met us yet.

The old truck rattled along for maybe an hour before we saw it: a government checkpoint stretched across the two-lane road, Humvees parked on either side, soldiers pacing with rifles, and dogs sniffing every car in line.

Bruce stiffened in the seat beside Betty. I didn’t need Pony’s powers to feel his panic; it was radiating off him in waves.

“We can’t go through that,” Bruce whispered.

“No kidding,” Dally muttered, leaning forward between the seats.

Darry slowed the truck, pulling it off the road.

“Everybody out,” Darry said grimly. “We ditch it here.”

Two-Bit patted the dash as he climbed out.

“Good run, old girl,” Two-Bit said. “You were almost as pretty as my last date.”

“She dumped you,” Johnny said flatly.

“Semantics,” Two-Bit shot back.

We hiked along a wooded path until the smell of oil and salt hit my nose. A boatyard stretched out ahead, the sound of gulls overhead. Rusty hulls, fishing nets, men smoking by the dock, yeah, this was our ticket.

A weathered guy in a beanie eyed us as we approached. Betty stepped forward, her voice calm but desperate.

“We need to get across,” Betty pleaded. “To the city. Please.”

The guy squinted.

“Ain’t no charity here,” the guy grumbled.

I grinned, stepping up with my best charm smile. My powers buzzed under my skin as I leaned against a piling.

“C’mon, friend,” I said smoothly. “Just one little ride. We’ll stay out of your way. Easy money.”

His eyes softened, aggression bleeding out of him. He grumbled, but finally waved us toward his boat.

“Fine,” the guy relented. “But you don’t touch nothin’.”

“Scout’s honor,” I said, hopping aboard. Two-Bit snorted behind me.

The ride was bumpy, spray hitting us as the boat cut through the choppy water. Bruce sat low, clutching Betty’s hand like he expected Ross’s men to come storming out of the waves.

By the time we hit the docks in New York, he looked greener than the Hulk, but from seasickness, not gamma.

We flagged a cab, and that’s when things got worse.

The driver was nuts. He drove like he was auditioning for a demolition derby, horn blaring, weaving between trucks, swearing in three languages I didn’t even know he knew.

Two-Bit clutched the door handle, pale.

“We survived tanks, sonic cannons, and Hulk himself, and this is how we die?!” Two-Bit exclaimed.

Johnny’s ash curled around him like a shield, like that’d do anything against a cab accident.

Darry leaned forward.

“Sir,” Darry demanded. “Drive safely.”

The guy flipped him off and cut across two lanes.

Bruce had his head buried in his hands.

“This is worse than the military,” Bruce mumbled.

By the time we screeched to a halt, we all piled out like rats from a sinking ship. Two-Bit kissed the ground. Dally lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

“Never again,” Johnny muttered, brushing ash from his jacket.

Sterns’ lab was tucked into a university building, all wires and equipment stacked up like it was held together by duct tape and genius. He greeted Bruce with wide eyes and manic energy, shaking his hand like a long-lost friend.

“You’re here, you actually made it! And you brought…” He stopped, blinking at us. “An entourage?”

“Long story,” Bruce muttered.

Sterns waved us inside anyway, rambling about cellular replication and data sets. The place smelled like ozone and stale coffee. I glanced at Pony, who was already rubbing his temples from Sterns’ emotional overflow.

Something told me this was about to get messy.

And we hadn’t even started the “cure” yet.

The lab looked more like a college kid’s science project gone rogue than a place where life-changing experiments went down. Wires dangled from the ceiling. Machines hummed out of sync. A fan clattered like it was about to launch into orbit.

And there was Sterns, wild-eyed, half-grinning like a kid on Christmas morning as he led Bruce deeper inside.

“This is remarkable,” Sterns was saying, his voice bouncing off the walls. “You’re actually here. The data you sent me, those blood samples, opened up an entire new world. And you’re telling me you want to… cure it?”

“Yeah,” Bruce muttered, rubbing his forehead. “That’s the idea.”

Betty’s hand slid into his, steadying him. Her eyes darted toward us, a silent plea: don’t let this get out of control.

“Too late for that,” I muttered under my breath.

Two-Bit whistled low, looking around.

“This place looks like it’d fail a middle school safety inspection,” Two-Bit said with a scuff.

Sterns didn’t even blink.

“Safety is a relative term, young man!” Sterns exclaimed.

Dally chuckled, leaning against a wall.

“Yeah, tell that to the guy who’s gonna turn into a green rage monster if you poke him too hard,” Dally muttered darkly.

Bruce shot him a glare, but he didn’t argue.

They strapped Bruce onto the exam table, leather cuffs clicking over his wrists and ankles. The sound made my stomach tighten.

“You sure about this?” I asked him.

Bruce let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t have a choice,” Bruce muttered sheepishly.

Sterns was already fussing with a tray of syringes, muttering calculations under his breath. Pony shifted closer to me, his eyes glowing faintly as emotions rippled off Bruce, fear, resignation, hope all tangled together.

“He’s scared,” Pony whispered. “But he wants to believe this works.”

I gave Bruce a small nod.

“We’re right here, man,” I said. “All of us.”

Bruce managed a tight smile.

The experiment began with Sterns sliding a massive needle into Bruce’s arm, filled with some glowing cocktail he called an “inhibitor.” Machines buzzed louder, a monitor spiking with his pulse.

Bruce arched against the straps, gritting his teeth as sweat poured down his face. Betty gripped the edge of the table.

“His vitals are climbing…” Pony’s voice shook.

Steve focused on the machines, his powers twitching against the gears like he was ready to rip them apart if things went south. Darry stood solid, arms crossed, like a human wall between Betty and disaster.

Then it hit.

Bruce’s skin rippled, turning dark green in streaks that spread like fire through his veins. His chest heaved. His muscles swelled. The cuffs creaked.

“Not good,” Johnny muttered, ash flaring around him.

“Stay with me, Bruce!” Betty begged, pressing closer.

The Hulk roared, deafening, earth-shaking. The table snapped under him. Darry planted himself in front, his body absorbing the shock as Hulk thrashed free.

“Pulse (Soda)!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

I didn’t think, I just moved. Speed surged through me as I blurred around the room, creating a vortex to keep loose equipment from flying. My smile flashed instinctively, my hypnosis field rippling outward.

For a heartbeat, Hulk’s rage softened, eyes flickering back toward Bruce.

Betty’s voice broke through then, stronger than all of us.

“Bruce!” Betty cried. “I’m here!”

And just like that, the massive green monster slumped, collapsing to his knees. His skin began to fade back to human tones, his body shrinking, shaking, until Bruce Banner lay unconscious in Betty’s arms.

Sterns was practically vibrating.

“Extraordinary!” Sterns said with glee. “Absolutely extraordinary!”

Dally flicked ash from his jacket.

“Extraordinary?” Dally growled. “He almost broke the building in half.”

Two-Bit tilted his head at Sterns.

“You’re not gonna keep samples of that lying around, are you?” Two-Bit said.

Sterns just grinned wider.

“Oh, I’ve already got more than enough,” Sterns said with glee.

That sent a chill down my spine.

Something told me this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Chapter Text

Chapter 38

Darry’s POV

The lab stank of chemicals and metal. I didn’t like it from the second we walked in. Too many machines humming, too much of Sterns’ smug little smile. Guy had the look of someone who thought he was playing God.

I kept close to Pony, Soda, and Johnny, making sure nobody did anything stupid. Dally leaned against a wall, arms crossed, while Two-Bit kept up a low mutter of jokes that weren’t funny. He only did that when he was nervous.

Then the door slammed open.

Blonsky.

He was pale, eyes sharp, moving like a man with nothing left to lose. He shoved Sterns against a table, voice low but venomous.

“You helped Banner, huh?” Blonsky sneered. “Well, you’re gonna help me.”

Sterns tried to laugh it off, but I could see his hands shaking.

“This isn’t safe, it was unstable with Banner, you don’t understand…” Sterns stuttered.

Blonsky cut him off.

“Do it,” Blonsky growled.

I stepped forward.

“You don’t want this, soldier,” I said sternly. “Trust me.”

He turned those dead eyes on me.

“You think I care what happens?” Blonsky sneered. “I’ve tasted power. I’m not going back.”

Johnny’s ash flared faintly at his side. Soda edged toward Betty, ready to move her if things went bad. Steve’s jaw clenched as gears rattled faintly in the corners, his power itching for release.

Sterns, panicked, started strapping Blonsky into the rig. I hated myself for letting it happen, but SHIELD had told us not to interfere with Banner’s research, not yet. And Blonsky wasn’t hearing reason.

The moment the chemicals coursed into his veins, he arched and screamed. His bones cracked, his skin bulged, his muscles tore, and then reformed.

“Aw, hell,” Two-Bit muttered.

The room shook as Blonsky grew and transformed into a monstrous man, his skin thick like scales, his pine ridged, eyes blazing with hatred. He roared, smashing equipment as Sterns dove for cover.

The Abomination.

I planted my feet, bracing as glass shattered.

“Strays!” I called. “Formation!”

Mindlight’s (Pony) light flickered, a shield springing up as metal flew across the room. Pulse (Soda) zipped Betty back toward the doorway. Breaker (Steve) yanked the engines apart in the wall, cutting power before something exploded. Ash’s (Johnny) fire answered the creature’s roar, ash coiling like wings.

Abomination turned those yellow eyes on us. Bigger than the Hulk. Meaner.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure we were ready.

Abomination tore through the lab walls like they were paper. Concrete cracked, rebar bent, alarms screamed. I planted my boots in the mess, fists ready, but it didn’t matter; he was already storming out into the city.

“Move!” I barked, pushing the gang forward. Betty clung to Banner, her voice frantic. “Bruce, you’ve got to stop him; no one else can!”

Banner’s eyes flickered with something between fear and acceptance. He nodded, jaw tight.

“Then drop me in the middle of it,” Banner called.

We followed the trail of destruction. Harlem lit up like a warzone, cars tossed, pavement cratered, civilians running and screaming. Abomination was bellowing in the middle of the street, swatting Humvees like toys. Soldiers tried firing on him; it only made him angrier.

“Reckless, you’re with me up front!” I shouted. Reckless (Dally) cracked his knuckles with a grin, already glowing with stolen kinetic energy. I surged forward, lifting an overturned car with one hand and hurling it aside so people could escape.

Pulse (Soda) zipped through the chaos, grabbing civilians and pulling them out of the crossfire.

“Keep moving!” Pulse (Soda) called. “Eyes forward, folks, c’mon!” His hypnotic tone kept the panic from boiling over.

Breaker (Steve) ripped open an abandoned APC with a flick of his hands, tearing its mounted gun free and aiming it straight at the monster.

“Let’s see how you like some bite!” Steve growled.

Ash (Johnny) cloaked himself in flame and ash, streaking above the wreckage like a blackened phoenix.

“Big guy’s mine!” Ash (Johnny) yelled. He hurled a torrent of fire that actually made Abomination stumble back a step.

But just a step.

Abomination slammed a fist into the ground, shockwave flattening cars. Mindlight (Pony) threw up a light shield in time, energy rippling around us.

“Got it, hold steady!” Mindlight’s (Pony) voice strained, emotions lashing through my head, fear, determination, hope, all wrapped together.

And then Banner dropped in.

Literally, out of a helicopter, crashing into the asphalt. For a moment, he was just Bruce, groaning in pain. But then it came, the roar, the green, the monster inside. The Hulk stood, and the street shook with his arrival.

“Now it’s a fair fight,” I muttered.

The two giants clashed. Hulk and Abomination were trading blows that rattled windows for blocks. Every punch felt like thunder rolling through my chest. We darted around them, cutting off collateral.

“Jokester (Two-Bit), get the civvies out of that bus!” I called. Two-Bit’s grin widened.

“Oh, sure, send the funny guy after the screaming schoolkids,” Two-Bit shot back. “Great plan!”

But luck twisted, doors popped open, and he ushered the last kids out just before Hulk and Abomination crushed the vehicle mid-fight.

Reckless (Dally) took a tank shell straight to the chest, absorbing the energy, staggering back only to laugh.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Reckless (Dally) snorted. He dove in, fists glowing, punching Abomination’s leg just to slow him for Hulk’s counter.

I jumped on Abomination’s back, grabbing a ridge of bone, trying to wrench his head aside. He flung me off into a storefront, but my invulnerability kept me standing. Broken glass rained down.

“That all you got?” I growled, charging back in.

The fight raged through Harlem. Flames, rubble, chaos. Hulk finally got the chain around Abomination’s throat, hauling him down. The street lit up with fire from Ash’s (Johnny) last desperate burst, Mindlight’s (Pony) light shield protecting Betty as she screamed for Hulk not to kill him.

And Hulk listened.

With one last snarl, Hulk let Abomination drop. Broken, beaten, but alive.

The silence after was almost louder than the fight. Sirens, crying, the distant crackle of fire. Hulk looked at Betty, then at us, then leapt away into the night sky.

We stood in the ruins, bruised and burned but alive.

Pulse (Soda) wiped sweat from his brow.

“Well,” Pulse (Soda) said with a shaky grin, “that was… somethin’.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) flopped onto the hood of a wrecked car.

“Yeah,” Two-Bit groaned. “Next time? Somebody else takes the night shift.”

I exhaled hard, shoulders heavy. Harlem had taken a beating, but it could’ve been worse. Much worse.

And we all knew, we’d just gotten a taste of the kind of battles waiting on the horizon.

The smoke was still hanging heavy in Harlem when the last firetruck rolled in. Streets were blocked off, civilians herded behind barricades, the ruins of the fight still burning in pockets. I stood with my arms crossed, glass crunching under my boots, watching soldiers load Abomination’s unconscious form into reinforced transports.

We’d done our job. Banner had done his. But the ache in my chest said it wasn’t enough, not for Harlem, not for Bruce, who’d vanished into the night again.

Soda kicked at a busted hydrant, water hissing out into the street.

“Well… that sucked,” Soda said.

“Better than the alternative,” I said flatly. “If Hulk hadn’t shown, this whole borough’d be gone.”

Johnny’s flames still smoldered faintly around his shoulders as he slumped against a wall, breathing hard.

“Didn’t feel like winnin’, though,” Johnny said with a sigh. “Just surviving.”

Before I could answer, my comm crackled in my ear. Fury’s voice, smooth, sharp as a knife.

“Strays,” Fury said cooley. “Banner’s off our radar again. For now, your work with him is done.”

I straightened, nodding though he couldn’t see me.

“Copy that,” I said professionally. “What’s next?”

There was a pause, then a shift in his tone, something heavier.

“You’ve got another problem,” Fury said gravely. “Out in New Mexico. Something… fell out of the sky. Big, powerful, and already stirring trouble. S.H.I.E.L.D. containment is on site, but I want my Strays there before this escalates.”

Soda’s brow furrowed.

“Fell outta the sky?” Soda asked in confusion. “Like a UFO?”

“Not a UFO,” Fury said. “A hammer.”

The comm went dead.

We all traded looks. Two-Bit snorted.

“A hammer?” Two-Bit joked. “What’re we supposed to do, build a house? I left my toolbelt at home.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, gears already turning in his head.

“If Fury’s sending us… it ain’t a normal hammer,” Steve said.

Pony’s glow flickered faintly at his fingertips, his voice tight.

“There’s… something else,” Pony said nervously. “I can feel it. Like the air just shifted.”

He wasn’t wrong. The night sky above Harlem was quiet now, but there was a pull, a weight in the air, like a storm was waiting on the horizon.

I rolled my shoulders, already bracing for what came next. Banner had been in trouble enough. Whatever waited out west, Fury was treating it like a bigger threat.

“Alright,” I said, meeting their eyes one by one. “Harlem’s done. Banner’s gone. Now we move. Wheels up in thirty, we’re heading to New Mexico.”

Soda groaned.

“Hope they’ve got decent diners out there,” Soda said miserably.

Johnny smirked faintly, flame flickering at his fingertips.

“Guess we’re about to find out what kind of hammer takes a whole S.H.I.E.L.D. lockdown,” Johnny said.

And deep down, I knew, this wasn’t just another mission. Something about this felt different. Bigger.

The kind of difference that changes everything.

The desert stretched out forever. Endless sand, jagged rocks, and sky so wide it made even me feel small. We’d been flown into New Mexico under the usual cover story, storm research, government business, all the usual S.H.I.E.L.D. smoke screens. But the second our boots hit the ground, I knew this wasn’t weather.

Not natural weather, anyway.

The horizon was lit by streaks of lightning that didn’t fade. Like the storm had dug in its heels and refused to leave.

Soda shaded his eyes with his hand, squinting out at it.

“That ain’t right,” Soda muttered.

“No kidding,” I muttered.

The desert town wasn’t much to look at, Puente Antiguo. One long main street, scattered houses, dust in every crack. But every local we passed had their eyes fixed nervously on the sky. They knew something was off.

“Atlas (Darry),” Fury’s voice came through the comm again. “Report in when you’re settled. S.H.I.E.L.D. ground teams are already moving on the site. Play nice with the scientists. They’ve got instruments picking up things we don’t fully understand yet.”

“Copy,” I said, and cut the line.

Didn’t take long before we stumbled onto the first oddity. A white van with equipment strapped haphazardly to the roof barreled down the road just outside town. Dust cloud behind it, sparks of lightning in the distance.

We barely had time to step out of the way before the van skidded to a stop in front of us.

The driver’s side door flew open, and out hopped a young woman with wild light brown hair and goggles pushed up on her head. She waved her arms at us like we were the cavalry.

“You guys saw that, right?!” she blurted. “That storm out there? Electromagnetic readings are off the charts! Darcy, print the readings!”

A brunette girl in the passenger seat sighed and held up an iPad.

“Already did,” Darcy called back. “Still says storm of the century. Or, you know, a god throwing a tantrum. Take your pick.”

Behind them, an older man climbed out, professor type, careful and thoughtful. He adjusted his glasses, sizing us up.

“Uh…” Two-Bit broke the silence, grinning like he’d been waiting for a chance to stir trouble. “You folks always nearly run over superheroes on their day off, or is today special?”

The light brown haired one, Jane, if I remembered Fury’s briefing, blinked.

“Superheroes?” Jane asked.

Soda leaned against the hood of the van, charm cranked up.

“We’re… consultants,” Soda said with a smile. “S.H.I.E.L.D. sent us. Name’s Pulse. That’s Atlas, Jokester, Ash, Mindlight, Reckless, and Breaker.”

Jane’s eyes widened.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. sent you?” Jane asked in confusion. “Then this storm, this is something more than weather.”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing at the horizon where lightning cracked so bright it lit the desert like daylight. “And whatever’s out there, we’re about to find it.”

The professor, Selvig, cleared his throat.

“Then perhaps we should combine our efforts,” Selvig said. “Jane has been chasing anomalies like this for years. If this storm connects to her data…”

Darcy leaned out the window with a smirk.

“Translation: You’re all about to go camping in the desert with us nerds,” Darcy teased.

Ash’s (Johnny) flames flickered faintly on his fingertips as he stared at the sky.

“Storm’s hiding something,” Ash (Johnny) said. “I can feel it.”

Mindlight (Pony) tensed beside him, that glow in his eyes sparking like it always did when he tapped into emotions bigger than ours.

“Not just hiding,” Mindlight (Pony) muttered. “Calling.”

And that’s when the first rumble hit, louder than thunder, deeper, like the whole desert was groaning. The kind of sound that tells you something heavy just fell from the sky.

Jane snapped her goggles down.

“That’s it,” Jane said grimly. “That’s the epicenter. Get in, we’ve gotta move!”

We piled into the van with them, crowded and tense, Jokester (Two-Bit) already making cracks about “super science carpooling.” But my mind wasn’t on his jokes.

Because whatever was waiting for us out there, it wasn’t just another mission.

It felt like we were about to meet the kind of power that made even us look small.

Chapter Text

Chapter 39

Two-Bit’s POV

Dust kicked up in the headlights, and the storm still rumbled somewhere out on the horizon, like it was just waiting to throw another tantrum. We were crammed in the back of Jane’s van, me elbow to elbow with Soda, who wouldn’t stop bouncing his knee, and Johnny staring out the window like the sky was talking to him.

“Storm-chasing nerds and stray superheroes,” I muttered. “Feels like the start of a bad joke.”

“Better than sittin’ around waitin’ for Fury’s next surprise,” Dally shot back, arms crossed like he was daring the desert to try him.

Jane gripped the wheel tighter, goggles shoved down, muttering about atmospheric shifts and energy surges. Darcy scrolled on her iPad like she was waiting for it to explode. Selvig kept mumbling about anomalies, his voice as dry as the sand.

Then it happened.

Out of nowhere, something slammed into the desert floor. A flash, a thud that rattled the van’s frame. Jane yelped, swerved, and before I could make a crack about her driving…
WHAM!

The van hit something solid. We all jerked forward. Soda’s arm shot out, keeping Pony from smashing into the dashboard. My head thunked against the window, and I cursed.
Jane slammed the brakes, dust swirling around us.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Jane babbled, fumbling to throw the van into park. “I hit him! Darcy, did I just…did I just hit a person?”

Darcy didn’t look up from the tablet.

“Depends,” Darcy asked. “Do gods count as people?”

“Real helpful,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.

We scrambled out of the van. And there he was.

Flat on his back in the dirt, blonde hair plastered to his face from sweat and rain, a guy built like he’d walked straight out of a mythology book. Armor dented, cape torn, but somehow he still looked like the kind of guy you didn’t want to arm wrestle.

Jane hovered over him, panicked.

“Oh no, no, no….he’s alive, right?” Jane asked, hyperventilating. “Tell me he’s alive!”

I leaned over, hands on my knees.

“Well, unless New Mexico just started handin’ out Viking cosplayers, pretty sure you just ran over Thor,” I said. “I was joking when I told Tony that we might meet him.”

The guy groaned, rolling to his side. Even half-conscious, he had this… presence. Like the storm itself had taken human form. Pony stiffened beside me, his eyes faintly glowing.

“His emotions… they’re huge,” Pony whispered. “Grief, anger, pride. It’s all crashing at once.”

“Great,” I muttered. “We found ourselves a god with issues.”

Thor struggled to his knees, glaring at us through the hair in his face.

“This… is Earth?” His voice was rough, confused, but full of authority.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Soda said with that grin of his, leaning casually against the van. “Name’s Pulse. We’re the Strays. S.H.I.E.L.D. sent us. And you, big guy, just got introduced to American traffic laws.”

Thor blinked at him, then at Jane, then at all of us. For a moment, he looked like he was about to collapse again.

Jane bit her lip, worried.

“We should get him off the road,” Jane said urgently. “Just…just bring him back to town. Please.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Sure,” I grumbled. “Why not. First Stark, then Banner, now a space Viking with a hammer complex. What’s next? Aliens?”

Johnny’s flames flickered faintly as he glanced back at the storm.

“Don’t joke too soon, Two-Bit,” Johnny warned. “Feels like the sky’s just getting started.”

We hauled Thor to his feet, the guy weighed a ton, and shoved him into the back of the van. As Jane floored it toward town, I couldn’t help thinking one thing.

We had met a lot of crazy people in our time. But this? This was about to rewrite the definition.

We got the big blond lug into town, Jane driving like a bat outta hell. Thor kept swaying in and out of consciousness in the back, muttering about Asgard and “the Allfather” like we’d just picked up a lunatic from a Renaissance fair.

By the time we skidded into the hospital lot, he’d started growling like a caged lion. Jane was panicked, begging the nurses for help, and the rest of us just looked at each other like, here we go again.

The ER doors burst open. Orderlies with a gurney rushed forward. They got him strapped down and wheeled inside before Soda could even try charming anyone into calming down.

We followed them down the hall.

“Just let them treat him,” Jane begged. “He’s injured, he needs help.”

I crossed my arms, smirking.

“Yeah, Doc, but I’m thinkin’ those guys need help more than him,” I said.

Sure enough, Thor snapped awake mid-hallway. One second, he was strapped; the next, he tore free like the restraints were paper.

“Where am I?!” Thor bellowed, voice shaking the walls.

“Uh oh,” Johnny muttered. A little flame flickered in his palm, ready to go.

An orderly tried to push him back down, and Thor tossed the guy like he weighed nothing. A nurse screamed. Then another tried to jab him with a sedative, but Thor caught the needle midair and flung it across the room.

“Yeah, I’m callin’ it,” I said, pointing at the chaos. “Definitely not your average patient.”

Darry stepped forward, palms out.

“Thor, calm down,” Darry said calmly. “You’re safe. These people are just trying to help.”

Thor glared at him, wild-eyed.

“I am not some mortal to be restrained!” Thor said, lunging.

Darry met him like a wall of brick. The impact cracked the tiles beneath their feet. For a moment, it looked like Thor might actually overpower him, then Darry shoved back, steady and immovable.

“Listen to me, son,” Darry growled through clenched teeth. “You’re in no position to fight. Stand down.”

Of course, Thor didn’t. He swung, fist colliding with Darry’s jaw. The sound echoed. Darry just… didn’t flinch.

I whistled.

“Nice chin, Superman,” I teased.

While those two squared off, the rest of us split. Soda blurred forward, zipping between nurses, gently herding them out with that calm charm of his.

“You don’t want to be here right now, trust me,” Soda warned. “Just step outside, everything’ll be fine.”

Pony’s eyes glowed faintly, and he projected waves of calm, trying to dull Thor’s fury.

“He’s confused,” Pony murmured. “Disoriented. He really believes he’s been stripped of something important.”

“Yeah?” Dally cracked his knuckles. “He can believe it while sittin’ his ass down.”

Thor broke free from Darry’s grip just in time for Steve to send a metal gurney skidding into him with a flick of his hand. Thor stumbled back, roared, and tried to flip it, but Steve locked the wheels in midair, holding it in place like a shield.

Johnny threw a quick wall of flame between Thor and the terrified medical staff.

“Stay behind me!” Johnny barked.

And me? I leaned against the wall, smirking.

“Man, I gotta admit, this is more fun than cable,” I said as I tossed a coin in the air, watching Thor trip over an abandoned IV stand that definitely wasn’t there a second ago. Luck’s a beautiful thing.

It took Darry pinning Thor against the wall and Pony pushing a blast of calm directly into his head before he finally sagged, panting.

Jane rushed to his side, eyes wide.

“Please, just… don’t hurt him,” Jane pleaded. “He’s not himself.”

“Not himself?” I muttered. “Lady, I don’t think he knows who he is, even on a good day.”

Thor’s chest heaved. He glared at all of us, then at Jane, and his voice dropped, ragged but sure.

“I am Thor,” Thor said. “Son of Odin. And I will not be caged.”

The room was silent except for his breathing.

“Yeah, this one’s gonna be a handful,” Dally muttered while shaking his head.

The hospital had finally booted us, partly ‘cause Thor scared the hell outta everyone, partly ‘cause Soda couldn’t flirt his way past the head nurse after Thor tossed a bedpan across the hall. So the next morning, there we were, packed into the tiny Puente Antiguo diner like it was Sunday brunch after church.

Thor sat at the head of the table, big blond lion in borrowed clothes that didn’t fit. Jane hovered next to him, notebook at the ready, practically glowing at every word out of his mouth. Selvig sipped his coffee, muttering about myths and nonsense, and Darcy just looked like she was waiting for the next chance to upload this circus to YouTube.

And us? The Strays took up half the diner, crammed in a booth, the locals giving us side-eyes like we’d walked out of a comic book. Which, I guess, wasn’t far off.

Thor lifted his mug, took a sip, and his eyes lit up.

“This drink… I like it,” Thor said, surprised. “Another!”

SMASH!

The mug shattered on the floor. Jane jumped out of her skin. Darcy yelped. Selvig nearly choked.

The diner went dead silent.

“Dude!” I burst out laughing, clapping my hands together. “Man after my own heart. Finally, someone around here knows how to celebrate coffee!”

The waitress looked like she was about to faint.

“We… we don’t really do refills that way,” The waitress said nervously.

Darry groaned, rubbing his temples.

“You don’t smash cups here, Thor,” Darry groaned. “Not on Earth. You ask for more.”

Thor blinked, confused, like we’d just told him not to breathe.

“It is the custom on Asgard,” Thor said in confusion.

“Yeah, well,” I smirked, leaning back in the booth, “last I checked, this ain’t Asgard. Welcome to New Mexico. Try not to get us banned from every diner in town.”

Soda grinned his movie-star grin, leaning toward the waitress.

“It’s fine,” Soda said charmily. “He’s new. We’ll pay for it. And I’d love another cup too, if you don’t mind.” His charm field washed over her, and suddenly she was smiling again, scribbling orders like Thor smashing mugs was the highlight of her morning.

Johnny poked at the broken pieces with a finger, the ash curling like it wanted to rise with him.

“At least it didn’t start a fire this time,” Johnny muttered.
Steve gave Thor a pointed look.

“You’re lucky you didn’t cut your hand open,” Steve grumbled. “You may think you’re invulnerable, but right now, you’re not.”

Pony tilted his head, his glow faint.

“He knows,” Pony murmured. “That’s what’s hurting him the most. He feels… small.”

Thor bristled but didn’t argue, staring down into his new mug of coffee.

Jane leaned in, hopeful.

“If you really are who you say you are… then you can tell me what was out there in the storm, right?” Jane asked hopefully. “What caused it?”

Thor’s eyes softened, just a little.

“My hammer,” Thor explained. “Mjolnir. It lies where I cannot reach it.”

I grinned, flicking a sugar packet at him.

“Let me guess, you’re the only one who can pick it up?” I asked teasingly. “That’s one hell of a party trick. Bet I could use it to open a beer.”
Thor didn’t even blink.

“It would crush you,” Thor deadpanned.

“Okay,” I said quickly, tossing my hands up. “Noted. No beer-opening with god hammers.”

The diner buzzed again, but under the jokes and coffee steam, I couldn’t shake it. This guy wasn’t just some kook with a cape complex. There was weight in his words, thunder rumbling in his chest even when he was calm.

And Fury wanted us to keep an eye on him?

Yeah. Things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.

By the time we piled back into Jane’s van, the desert sun was already heating the horizon. Thor rode shotgun, arms crossed, staring straight ahead like a kid who just found out his toy got locked in a glass case. Jane was giddy, Darcy kept snapping photos, and Selvig was muttering about “unscientific obsessions” while he held onto his hat.

The Strays? We were crammed in the back again. Dally kept glowering at Thor like he was daring him to pick a fight. Soda was humming some Elvis tune, trying to keep things light. Pony sat quietly, eyes glowing faintly like he was sifting through Thor’s stormy emotions. Me? I was mostly waiting for something to explode.

Didn’t take long.

Jane slammed on the brakes, dust rising in a thick wave around us. Out in the desert, where Thor’s “mystical hammer” had supposedly landed, was a sight straight outta a sci-fi flick.

A crater.

And not just a crater, at the center, jammed in the rock, was the hammer itself. Shiny, heavy-looking, with an energy that even I could feel tickling the edges of my skin.

But that wasn’t the weirdest part.

Ringed around it like ants on a dropped cookie? S.H.I.E.L.D.

Trucks, tents, and fencing are already going up. Agents swarmed over the site, black uniforms gleaming in the sun, a whole base popping up overnight.

Thor pressed his hands against the glass, eyes wide.

“Mjolnir…” Thor’s voice cracked, full of relief and longing. For a second, he looked like a different man, not a crazy god-claiming stranger, but someone who’d lost his whole world and just spotted home again.

“Looks like Fury beat us here,” Darry muttered, arms crossed. “Not surprising.”

“Yeah, well, somebody should tell ‘em they’re building a fort around a god’s toy,” I said. “Bet that’ll go real well.”

Thor shoved the door open before anyone could stop him. He jumped out, boots slamming the dirt, and started walking, no, storming, toward the site.

“Hey! Muscles!” I shouted, stumbling after him. “Ever heard of subtlety?”

But subtlety wasn’t in his vocabulary. Every step he took was faster, heavier, his shoulders squared like he was about to walk through the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. army if that’s what it took.

Soda zipped up beside him, matching his stride.

“Buddy, if you just charge in, they’re gonna drop you before you even get close,” Soda tried reasoning.

Thor glanced at him, eyes blazing.

“That is my birthright,” Thor said angrily. “No mortal shall keep it from me.”

“Cool speech,” I said, jogging to keep up. “But newsflash, last night, a couple of orderlies pinned you down with duct tape. Maybe don’t test your luck against Fury’s goons just yet.”

Pony’s glow flared faintly as he pushed a calming wave toward Thor.

“We’ll help you,” Pony said softly. “But if you go in alone, you’ll fail. And you’ll lose more than your hammer.”

Thor slowed just enough to listen, but his jaw clenched hard.

We crested the rise. Below us, S.H.I.E.L.D.’s setup buzzed with activity, floodlights, steel barriers, trucks unloading gear. And at the center of it all, like a jewel in a cage, Mjolnir glinted in the sun.

Thor’s breath hitched. He looked ready to leap straight down the slope and tear through everyone.

Dally cracked his knuckles, grinning.

“Finally,” Dally said with glee. “A real fight.”

Steve just shook his head.

“This isn’t a fight,” Steve grumbled. “Not yet. This is a fortress. And if Thor’s really who he says he is…” His gaze flicked to the hammer. “That’s the only key.”

I whistled low.

“Well, boys and girls, looks like we’re about to break into the world’s strangest carnival ride,” I said.

Thor didn’t laugh. He just stared at the hammer like it was calling to him, fists tightening at his sides.

Yeah. This was about to get real messy, real fast.

Chapter Text

Chapter 40

Steve’s POV

The rain came down in sheets, blurring the edges of the desert night as I crouched low beside the rest of the gang. The temporary SHIELD compound loomed ahead, a fortress of floodlights and fencing. Beyond it lay the hammer, Thor’s so-called Mjolnir, glowing faintly under the storm’s weight.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the tug in my palms as I quietly stretched my power, reaching out with my mind toward the engines humming inside the floodlights. A subtle twist, a mental nudge, and one row of lights flickered, dimming for just a second, enough to give them a shadowed path.

Thor, his face set in iron determination, stepped forward.

“I must reach Mjolnir,” Thor muttered, determined.

“Yeah, we got that part, big guy,” Two-Bit whispered, his grin barely visible in the rain. “But, uh, stealth? Ever heard of it?”

Thor didn’t answer. He simply surged toward the fence, muscles straining, and ripped a section of chain-link free like paper. We exchanged a glance.

“Subtle,” Johnny muttered, his ash cloak flaring to life in the storm like smoke off a fire.

“Let’s move,” Darry barked, his voice low but commanding. He followed Thor, taking the brunt of the mud and rain, the rest of the crew falling into step.

Inside the compound, the chaos began almost immediately. Guards converged, radios crackled, alarms blared. Steve pushed his focus outward, yanking control of the nearest jeep. Its headlights spun, engine revving as it lurched forward on its own, scattering SHIELD agents like bowling pins.

“Breaker strikes again,” I muttered under my breath, adrenaline thrumming.

Soda blurred past in a streak of motion, his hypnotic field brushing over guards who slowed mid-step, aggression dimming just enough for him to disarm them with a grin.

“Evenin’, fellas, Soda said with a smirk. “Don’t mind us.”

Johnny’s ash lashed outward, turning into a smokescreen that swallowed the next line of agents. Muffled coughs and shouts rose as the Strays vanished through the cloud.

Pony’s light flared inside the haze, creating a false projection, half a dozen phantom Strays scattering in different directions.

“That should buy us a few seconds,” Pony’s voice echoed, taut with focus.

“Good work, Mindlight,” I called back, heart pounding.

Thor cut through the storm like a force of nature. No hesitation, no subtlety, just raw purpose. He struck down guards with his fists, not cruelly, but with the kind of dominance that made Steve realize this man was built differently, something ancient in the way he carried himself.

Dally, reckless as ever, dove headlong into the fight, absorbing blows and coming out grinning, energy sparking in his fists as he flung a guard into the mud.

“Man, I could get used to this!” Dally said with a smirk.

Two-Bit’s laughter carried over the storm, his luck twisting the battlefield, bullets missing by inches, one agent’s boot slipping in the mud to take down three others.

“What can I say?” Two-Bit joked. “Jokester always delivers!”

Finally, they reached the central structure: the crater where Mjolnir sat, untouched yet impossible to move. Thor charged ahead, the Strays spreading into a protective arc behind him.

My breath caught as Thor fell to his knees in the mud, both hands straining against the hammer’s hilt. The storm howled, thunder rolling like the sky itself held its breath.

Nothing happened.

Thor collapsed forward, rain pelting down, his face a mask of anguish.

“Why?” Thor said, distraught. “Why am I denied?”

We stood silent, the weight of the moment pressing heavier than the storm.

I felt the engines around us hum, lights buzzing, the facility alive with SHIELD’s response. But all I could focus on was the look in Thor’s eyes: loss, exile, a man stripped of everything.

Darry finally spoke, voice low.

“Sometimes strength ain’t enough,” Darry said, determined. “Sometimes you gotta earn it back.”

Thor bowed his head.

And in that moment, I knew, this wasn’t just about a hammer. This was about worth, about redemption. Something we knew all too well.

The storm eased to a drizzle by the time we regrouped near the outer wall. Thor stood soaked and grim, shoulders slumped like the fight had finally drained out of him. Not from the guards, not even from the mud. From the hammer.

I’d felt it too, his despair, raw and heavy, pressing against me like a weighted blanket. Pony’s eyes were red at the edges, his empathic gift tugging harder than usual. He didn’t say a word, just stayed close to Thor, like maybe sharing the silence was all he could offer.

The crunch of boots in mud snapped us all back. A phalanx of SHIELD agents in black surged in from the perimeter. Rifles raised, flashlights cutting through the gloom. At the center walked a man with his suit collar turned sharp, his badge glinting under the floodlights.

“Step away from the subject,” he ordered, calm but commanding. Coulson. The one who’d been dogging us since Stark.

I felt Dally stiffen beside me, fists curling like he wanted nothing more than to soak up some bullets and give it back twice as hard. Darry laid a firm hand on his arm.

“Not the time,” Darry warned.

Thor raised his hands slowly, mud dripping from his palms. His chest heaved with frustration, but he didn’t fight. Not anymore.

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” Thor rumbled, voice low but carrying across the rain-slick site.

Coulson didn’t blink.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Coulson said matter-of-factly. “Lock him up.”

The guards surged forward. Thor didn’t resist, even when they clamped the cuffs on his wrists. His eyes, though, never left that hammer sitting silent in the crater.

“Guess the party’s over,” Two-Bit muttered, raising his hands halfway like it was all a joke. His grin faltered quickly when three rifles swiveled toward him.

“Relax,” I said, stepping slightly in front of him. “We’re with him.”

Coulson gave me a long look, like he was cataloguing every move we made for some report he’d file later. Then he gave the smallest nod to his agents.

“Bring them too,” Coulson said, indifferent. “Director Fury’s gonna want answers.”

Dally growled under his breath, but fell in line. Pony pressed his lips together, nervous energy buzzing off him in waves. Johnny’s ash trailed faintly in the wet air, dispersing as he tugged his jacket tighter. Soda flashed one of those calming smiles, even if it barely took the edge off.

Thor glanced at us as they marched him past, rain running in rivulets down his hair and beard. For just a second, his eyes softened, like he didn’t feel quite so alone anymore.

And then he was gone, swallowed up by the floodlights and the agents, dragged into SHIELD custody while the hammer lay waiting in the mud.

The SHIELD base was colder inside than it looked from the outside. Steel walls, humming fluorescent lights, every corridor smelling faintly of damp and ozone. The storm outside still rattled the structure, but in here, it felt sterile, controlled.

Thor sat chained at a table, hands bound, his golden hair matted with rain. He looked like a caged animal, not because of the cuffs but because of the weight in his eyes. He didn’t so much as twitch when the guards shifted behind him.

We were kept behind a glass partition, watching. Coulson stood at the front with his arms crossed, calm as ever. The man was good at poker faces; he never showed more than he wanted to.

“Subject claims… what exactly?” one of the junior agents asked quietly, flipping through a file.

“That he’s a god,” Coulson said flatly. “Of thunder. Banished, apparently. I’ll need confirmation before I start writing myths into reports.”

Two-Bit leaned closer to the glass and smirked.

“Guy doesn’t look crazy,” Two-Bit said thoughtfully. “Just ticked off.”

“Shut it,” Dally muttered, though even he kept sneaking glances. There was something about Thor, even beaten down, that made you feel small in comparison.

Pony pressed his fingers against the glass. His breathing was shallow, as if he were tuning in without meaning to.

“He’s not lying,” Pony whispered. “Everything he feels, anger, shame, loss, it’s all real. He believes it.”

I believed it too, though I didn’t say it out loud.

The air shifted suddenly, like the room itself took a breath. Cold prickled at the back of my neck. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Johnny’s ash flickered up around his collar, like it sensed something before he did.

And then… he appeared.

One second, the corner of the room was empty, the next, a tall man stood there in green and gold. His dark hair slicked back, his smile sharp enough to cut glass.

The guards jumped, rifles snapping up, but he raised a hand lazily.

“Oh, do calm down,” The man said. “I’m only here to talk.”

Thor’s head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Loki,” Thor grumbled.

The name hung heavy in the air.

We all froze, watching through the glass. Loki moved with a deliberate slowness, his every step oozing superiority.

“You look dreadful, brother,” Loki said, voice dripping with false concern. “And here I thought you’d be reveling in your triumphs.”

Thor strained against the chains.

“What trick is this?” Thor asked, suspicious.

“No trick,” Loki said. “Merely… news.” Loki tilted his head. “Father is dead. Mother banished me from the throne. Asgard mourns while you sulk on Midgard.”

I caught Pony flinch at the lie before Thor did. His gift was screaming.

“He’s lying,” Pony whispered hoarsely. “He’s twisting the truth.”

Thor’s face cracked, grief and fury warring in his eyes.

“You’re saying this to hurt me,” Thor growled.

Loki’s smirk never wavered.

“If you truly cared, you wouldn’t have been cast out in disgrace,” Loki said smoothly. “You’re no longer worthy. Enjoy your little prison, brother.”

And just as quick as he’d come, Loki shimmered, fading into nothing.

The room was still again, except for Thor’s ragged breathing. He slumped against the table, defeated all over again.

Coulson leaned toward the glass, his calm expression betraying the smallest flicker of curiosity. He wasn’t about to say it out loud, but I knew he’d seen it too. Thor hadn’t been talking to himself.
And neither had we.

Thor sat hunched in that interrogation room long after Loki vanished. His shoulders sagged like the weight of the world was chained to them, not just his wrists. None of us said anything. Even Two-Bit, who could crack jokes in the middle of a firefight, kept quiet.

When the door finally opened, Coulson stepped in. Calm as a blade sliding out of its sheath.

“You’ve got quite the story, Mister…” Coulson trailed off, eyes glancing toward the file as if mocking the blank spaces in it. “Thor. But for now, SHIELD is going to keep you right here.”

Thor barely looked up.

“Do what you will,” Thor said, dejected. “I have nothing left.”

That stung, even for me. Something about hearing a god sound like a broken man.

But before Coulson could press, his earpiece crackled. He tilted his head, listening. Then his expression shifted, almost imperceptibly. Whatever was said wasn’t his call.

He turned back, studied Thor a long moment, and finally exhaled.

“Orders are orders,” Coulson said reluctantly. “You’re free to go.”

Thor blinked, not believing it.

We sure didn’t either.

Coulson stepped aside, waving toward the door.

“Your… friends are waiting outside,” Coulson said, skeptical. “Don’t make me regret this.”

In the corridor, Jane, Selvig, and Darcy stood together, tense but hopeful. Darcy’s eyes bugged when Thor appeared with two guards unshackling him.

“Whoa,” Darcy said in awe. “They’re actually letting him out? Did you guys hypnotize Coulson or something?”

Soda grinned faintly, like maybe the idea wasn’t too far off.

Thor stopped in front of Jane, and for a second, all the storm in his eyes quieted. He bowed his head, a gesture of respect rather than arrogance.

“You sought answers,” Thor said sadly. “I had none. For that, I am sorry.”

Jane shook her head, relief softening her features.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Jane said reassuringly. “Just… stay.”

Behind her, Selvig gave us a look that said, What did you get us into?

We walked out together, the desert night pressing in around us. SHIELD floodlights turned the sand pale, but once we crossed past their perimeter, it was just us, Jane’s group, and a god who looked more human than any of us in that moment.

Two-Bit clapped Thor on the back.

“Cheer up, Goldilocks,” Two-Bit said with a grin. “Whatever’s got you down, we’ll sort it out. We’ve dealt with worse.”

“Not sure about worse,” Johnny muttered, ash flickering across his shoulders like restless shadows.

I hung back, watching Thor. He looked skyward, the stars reflecting in his eyes. There was longing there, a pull toward something greater, but he didn’t have his hammer, and he didn’t have answers. Just us.

And SHIELD letting us walk away with him meant one thing: Fury was playing a longer game.

The kind where gods and mortals crossed paths, and the Strays were stuck in the middle of it.

We didn’t head straight for town. Thor walked like a man in no hurry, like every step away from SHIELD’s fortress was pulling him further from something only he could feel. None of us rushed him.
Sometimes silence is better than questions.

By the time we reached the diner again, night had bled into dawn. The neon flickered, and the smell of frying bacon rolled out when Jane pushed the door open.

“Figured you could use food,” Jane said softly to Thor.

Inside, we packed into a booth that had no business fitting this many people. Darcy squeezed next to Johnny, practically stealing his toast, while Soda kept teasing her about coffee refills until she was red in the face. Thor sat across from Jane, posture straight, but his eyes shadowed.

He studied the mug of coffee in front of him, turning it in his hands like it might hold answers.

Finally, Jane broke the silence.

“Back there… when they took your hammer,” Jane asked cautiously. “What did you feel?”

Thor looked up, and for a moment, the weight of a thousand years was in his expression.

“I felt the measure of my worth,” Thor said. “And found myself wanting.”

The words landed heavily. Even Two-Bit didn’t dare make a joke.

Jane leaned forward, curious but gentle.

“So… what are you, really?” Jane asked.

Thor hesitated. Then, slowly, he spoke.

“I am Thor, son of Odin, of Asgard,” Thor said. “A realm beyond your understanding. A place of light, and power, and duty. It was my home… and it is lost to me.”

The table went still. Even Darcy, queen of snark, didn’t interrupt.

“He sounds like us after ‘67,” Johnny murmured. “Like everything he was built for got ripped out from under him.”

I nodded. I knew that feeling too well.

Jane’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Asgard,” Jane asked. “You’re saying it’s real.”

Thor’s lips tugged into a faint smile.

“More real than this cup of coffee,” Thor said. He took a sip, then set the mug down with a careful respect this time. “And far more precious.”

Two-Bit leaned back, arms crossed.

“Guess that explains the whole ‘swingin’ a hammer like it’s a baseball bat’ thing,” Two-Bit joked. “Just wish we had more than your word to go on.”
Thor’s smile faded.

“If Mjolnir will not have me, then my word is all I have,” Thor said sadly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 41

Dally’s POV

The morning diner crowd was slow, folks mumbling over black coffee and eggs while the jukebox sputtered out some old country tune. I leaned back in the booth, nursing a cup I didn’t even like, keeping an eye on Thor. The guy was quieter than usual, sitting with Jane like he was half here, half in some other world.

Then the bell above the door jingled. I glanced up, and I swear, for a second, I thought I’d lost my damn mind.

Four of the weirdest-looking people I’d ever seen stood framed in the doorway. Big golden armor gleaming, capes dragging dust, weapons strapped like they’d just walked out of a fairy tale. The locals froze, forks halfway to mouths, staring.

Thor shot up outta his seat so fast his chair toppled.

“Sif!” Thor said in excitement. “Volstagg! Hogun! Fandral!”

I traded a look with Johnny, who muttered under his breath, “Well, that explains a lot.” Ash flickered at his fingertips, like even he wasn’t sure if this was real.

The four Asgardians crossed the diner, larger than life and looking completely outta place among the linoleum floors and coffee pots. The big red-bearded one, Volstagg, clapped Thor on the shoulder hard enough to rattle the salt shakers.

“Thor!” Volstagg boomed. “You’re alive!”

Sif’s gaze was sharp, proud, but soft when it landed on Thor.

“We feared the worst,” Sif said with a smirk.

Thor grinned, pure joy breaking through the weight he’d been carrying.

“My friends!” Thor exclaimed. “You’ve come all this way?”

Jane just blinked, stunned. Darcy mouthed something like cosplay convention? but Soda leaned in and whispered to her, “Nope. Real deal.” She shivered, maybe from his tone, maybe from his little hypnotic edge bleeding through.

Two-Bit couldn’t help himself. He raised his mug in salute.

“Well, hell, looks like the cavalry’s here,” Two-Bit teased. “Guess the Norse cosplay club just leveled up.”

The armored blond one, Fandral, actually smirked at that.

“We are no mere players in costume, mortal,” Fandral said. “We are warriors of Asgard.”

I leaned forward, elbows on the table.

“Buddy, we’re the Strays,” I said grimly. “We’ve seen gods, monsters, and men who can drink gasoline and spit fire. You’ll fit right in.”

Thor laughed, loud and booming, like a man who finally had pieces of his old life stitched back into him. The sound eased something in my chest I didn’t even know was knotted.

But then I caught Darry stiffen beside me. His eyes flicked past the Asgardians, out the diner window. A black SUV rolled slowly down Main Street, SHIELD. Coulson’s boys, watching.

And worse than that, I felt the air shift, heavy and sharp, as if a storm were brewing. Pony’s hand twitched on the table, his glow just barely starting. He looked at me, wide-eyed, and I knew he felt it too, danger.

Thor might’ve had his friends back, but something told me the reunion wasn’t gonna last long.

It started with a low rumble, like thunder growling way off in the desert. But this wasn’t thunder.

The Asgardians stiffened, all four of them turning toward the sound as if their bones already knew what was coming. Thor’s smile slipped, his whole body going still.

Then the shockwave hit, dust rattling the diner windows, car alarms howling down the street. Folks spilled out of the café, pointing at the horizon. I followed their gaze.

Metal gleamed under the New Mexico sun. A towering, faceless giant of iron marched right down the road like it owned the place. No face, no soul, just two burning slits of fire for eyes.

“The Destroyer,” Sif breathed, voice tight.

Thor’s expression hardened, but his shoulders slumped with something heavier, guilt.

“My father sent it… or worse, Loki,” Thor said darkly.

I let out a low whistle.

“That’s one hell of a lawn ornament,” I said darkly.

Johnny’s ash hissed at his fingertips, coiling up his arms like smoke.

“That thing’s not human,” Ash (Johnny) said nervously.

“No,” Hogun said grimly. “It is a weapon of the gods.”

The damn thing didn’t stop. Its chest opened like a furnace door, energy building until it roared out a blast that lit up the street, flipping cars like toys and sending people screaming.

“Reckless, you’re up,” I muttered to myself, but I meant the part of me that wasn’t afraid to get burned. The Destroyer’s blasts? That was fuel for me.

Atlas (Darry) stepped forward, calm as ever, even with the world shaking.

“Form a line,” Atlas (Darry) said. “We hold the street.”

Thor turned to us, jaw tight.

“Mortals, this is not your fight,” Thor said stiffly.

Pulse (Soda) just smirked, charm dripping even under fire.

“Yeah, well, somebody forgot to tell us that,” Pulse (Soda) said. “You want us outta the way? Too late.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) spread his arms wide like he was welcoming the damn apocalypse.

“Relax, Goldilocks,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said. “We’ve fought worse. Well… not worse worse, but close enough.”

Thor looked at us, then at his friends, who were already bracing for battle with blades and shields. His chest rose like he wanted to argue, but he just nodded, respect in his eyes.

The Destroyer stopped at the edge of town, head tilting like it was sizing us up. Then its chest began to glow again.

I cracked my neck, letting a grin slip.

“Alright, you overgrown toaster,” I said. “Let’s see what you got.”

We spread out, me up front to soak the heat, Atlas (Darry) anchoring the line, Ash (Johnny) already cloaking himself in ash, Pulse (Soda) vibrating with pent-up speed. Mindlight’s (Pony) glow started behind us, that light energy crackling like a second sun. Breaker’s (Steve) eyes darted toward the cars lining the street, gears ready to dance under his command.

Thor stood behind us, powerless for now, but not useless. His voice cut through the chaos, steady and strong.

“Stand fast!” Thor said.

So that’s what we did, Strays, Asgardians, and one fallen god, shoulder to shoulder in the middle of Main Street, waiting for the Destroyer’s wrath.

And I’ll be damned if we didn’t look like a team.

The Destroyer’s chest flared, white-hot.

“Move!” Atlas (Darry) barked.

The street lit up like the sun had exploded. I braced myself, arms wide, as the blast slammed into me. My ribs rattled, boots skidding across asphalt. It should’ve leveled me, but instead, I felt the energy sink deep into my bones, fire threading through every nerve. My skin crackled, my fists burned, and I grinned.

“That all you got?” I spat, steam rising off me. “C’mon, tin can. Hit me again.”

The damn thing obliged.

Another beam shot out, but this time I swung into it, absorbing the impact like it was gasoline feeding an engine. My fists glowed red-hot, sparking with kinetic charge.

Behind me, Pulse (Soda) blurred into motion, darting between overturned cars, pulling trapped civilians out before the next blast. His voice carried over the chaos, calm and smooth.
“Go, go, go, don’t look back, you’re fine,” Pulse (Soda) said with charm. His charm was working overtime, turning panic into obedience.

Ash (Johnny) flared like a phoenix, his cloak of embers swirling into a wall that shielded a storefront. The Destroyer’s fire slammed against it, flames scattering into harmless sparks.

“You focus on me, big guy!” Ash (Johnny) shouted. His ash whipped forward, coiling around the thing’s legs like chains of smoke, trying to buy us seconds.

The Destroyer staggered, then kicked free, sending ash spiraling.

Breaker (Steve) was already at work, his hand outstretched. Engines from wrecked cars screamed to life, headlights flashing, horns blaring as three vehicles lurched forward at once, ramming the Destroyer’s legs.

“Stay down, damn it!” Breaker (Steve) growled, teeth clenched.

The thing stumbled, then its head swiveled, fire-eye sockets locking on him.

I didn’t think. I launched myself forward, fist glowing with all the energy I’d stored, and slammed it into the Destroyer’s chest. The ground shook with the impact. The thing slid back a step, barely, but it was something.

“Reckless (Dally)!” Atlas’s (Darry) voice cut through. He charged in right beside me, muscles straining, every vein in his neck standing out as he shoulder-checked the Destroyer like a linebacker hitting steel. The sound was thunder.

Jokester (Two-Bit) was in the middle of it all, weaving around, yelling at the damn god-machine like he was at a comedy club.

“Hey, Terminator reject!” Jokester (Two-Bit) mocked. “Over here! You call that a chest beam? I’ve seen brighter headlights on a busted Buick!”

And I swear, by some twisted miracle, the Destroyer’s next blast veered just off course, missing him by inches and torching an empty car instead. Luck bends reality, same as always.

Mindlight (Pony) stood just behind us, hands raised, his glow rippling out in waves. I felt it hit me like warmth under my skin, confidence, courage, a steadying hum that drowned out the fear clawing at the back of my skull. Illusion light shimmered in the Destroyer’s path, tricking it into blasting phantom versions of us instead of the real thing.

The Asgardians joined in, Sif darting forward with her blade, striking at joints, while Volstagg and Fandral distracted its swings. Hogun’s mace cracked against its metal armor, sparks flying.

Still, the Destroyer wasn’t slowing. Its furnace chest burned hotter, flames licking out the edges like it was winding up for something bigger.

Thor stepped forward then, unarmed, powerless, but fearless. He shoved past me and Darry, chest out, voice steady.

“Brother!” Thor shouted. “If you can hear me, stop this!” he shouted at the empty thing, knowing full well Loki was the hand behind it. His eyes softened, no fight in them. “Take me instead. These people… they are innocent. Spare them.”

For the first time, the Destroyer paused. Its head swiveled, locking on Thor.

And in that moment, I felt it, the shift. Not in the machine, but in Thor. The weight of something ancient and true settles on his shoulders.

The Destroyer’s chest flared again, but this time, instead of aiming at us, it retracted, like it was bowing to a command only it understood.

It turned.

Then, with a sickening crack, its fist swung, sending Thor flying across the street, his body slamming into the dirt.

“Thor!” Jane screamed, bolting forward.

I lunged to follow, rage tearing through me, but then I felt it. The sky darkened, the air charged, thunder rolling low and heavy.

Mindlight’s (Pony) eyes went wide, light dancing across his face.

“He’s, he’s changing,” Mindlight (Pony) whispered.

The hammer, Mjolnir, answered.

Lightning split the sky, the ground shook, and in a storm of power, Thor rose. The Destroyer turned, readying another strike, but too late.

Mjolnir hit Thor’s hand, and the god was reborn.

The hammer smacked into his palm with a crack of thunder that rattled every bone in my body. For a second, all I could do was stare. Thor, dirt-streaked, bruised, unarmed Thor, rose up like the storm itself had chosen him. Armor shimmered over his body in silver and red, his cape snapping like it was alive.

The Destroyer drew back, furnace glowing brighter.

Thor spun Mjolnir once, twice, then hurled himself forward in a streak of lightning. The hammer connected with the Destroyer’s jaw in a single, ear-splitting CLANG. The god-machine staggered, half its face caved in.

“Holy hell,” I muttered, flexing my hands still glowing faintly with stored energy. “Guess I’m not the only one who gets stronger from taking hits.”

Around me, the Strays stopped fighting for the first time since it started, just staring, soaking it in.

Mindlight’s (Pony) glow flickered around him, awe radiating in waves.

“This is what he was meant to be,” I caught from his empathic bursts, like raw wonder bleeding off him.

Thor raised his hammer high, lightning streaking down into it, and swung in a full arc. The storm followed him. Mjolnir cracked into the Destroyer’s chest, and the blast of thunder that followed nearly knocked me flat. The machine flew backward, carving a trench in the street before it clattered to its knees.

“Finish him!” Atlas (Darry) yelled, charging up beside Thor like the world’s proudest older brother. Darry might’ve had super strength, but watching him and Thor side by side made it clear that one was a man, one was a god.

The Destroyer’s furnace roared one last time, fire building.

Thor planted his feet, eyes blazing, and whirled the hammer. Lightning poured down from the storm he called, fusing with the spinning weapon until it was nothing but a white-hot sun in his hands.

“Now, brothers, sisters, stand back!” Thor’s voice thundered.

We didn’t argue. Even Jokester (Two-Bit) shut his mouth for once and pulled Jane and her friends clear.

Thor let the hammer fly.

It tore through the air, straight into the Destroyer’s chest. The explosion was blinding, light and fire bursting outward as the machine cracked apart, pieces collapsing in on themselves. The chest furnace dimmed, flickered, and went cold.

Silence.

I breathed hard, my body still buzzing with energy I hadn’t burned off. Johnny’s flames faded, ash falling like gray snow. Soda slowed to a stop beside Betty and Darcy, hair windblown and eyes wide. Steve lowered a crumpled car he’d been holding in place midair, dropping it with a dull thud.

And in the middle of it all, Thor stood tall, hammer in hand, cape flapping in the dying storm.

The townsfolk peeked out from alleys and broken doorways, eyes wide with the kind of awe I’d only ever seen aimed at legends.

Jane ran to Thor, throwing her arms around him. He actually laughed, tired but bright, spinning Mjolnir once before resting it on his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“You good?” I called, still half-grinning.

Thor turned to me, eyes alive with lightning.

“Aye,” Thor said. “Thanks to all of you. You fought bravely.”

Darry smirked.

“Not bad for a god,” Darry said dryly. “You might even keep up with us.”

That made Thor bark a laugh, loud and honest.

Me? I just leaned against a wrecked car, adrenaline still thrumming in my veins. The fight was done, but something in my gut told me it was just the start.

Because if gods were real and walked beside us, then the world was bigger and scarier than even I’d ever dreamed.

The dust was still settling when Thor turned back to us, Mjolnir gleaming in his grip. His eyes locked with Jane’s, then swept to the rest of us.

“You have my thanks, Strays,” Thor said gratefully. “Each of you. You fought as warriors worthy of song.”

Two-Bit smirked, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Write us into one of your Asgard fairy tales, blondie,” Two-Bit joked. “Make sure I get the good lines.”

Thor laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and with a final glance at Jane, he spun his hammer. Lightning wrapped around him, and in a flash, he was gone, sucked skyward into the storm he carried with him.

The quiet after was deafening.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders, trying to shake off the leftover charge of energy still humming in my skin. The others stood in silence, half-stunned by what we’d just survived.

And then my SHIELD-issued phone buzzed.

I pulled it from my jacket. The little screen lit up with a name I knew all too well.

FURY.

“Aw, hell,” I muttered. “It never ends.”

I flipped it open, pressed it to my ear.

“Yeah?” I grumbled.

Fury’s gravelly voice cut straight through the static.

“Reckless,” Fury said. “We’ve got a situation. Big one.”

“Define big,” I said, though my gut already told me.

“We found him,” Fury said. “Your old war buddy. Captain America. Frozen in ice since ‘45. He’s awake.”

For a moment, the street, the wreckage, the whole damn desert town disappeared. My chest clenched, not with fear but something hotter.

“You serious?” I said.

“He’s confused,” Fury said. “Out of time, out of place. We need a friendly face. You Strays fought beside him against HYDRA. You kept him alive longer than most. Right now, he doesn’t trust anyone but ghosts. I’m betting you can change that.”

I swallowed hard, meeting Darry’s steady gaze, Pony’s wide, glowing eyes, Soda’s sharp grin that was already fading into something thoughtful. Johnny looked down at his hands, still blackened with ash. Steve’s jaw tightened. Even Two-Bit sobered up, no quip ready.

“Where?” I asked.

“New York,” Fury said. “We’ve got him staged at a SHIELD facility. You’ve got one job: keep him calm, remind him he ain’t alone. Rogers doesn’t know what world he’s waking up to, and I don’t need him smashing through my walls trying to find Brooklyn.”

Static popped before the line went dead.

I lowered the phone, exhaled, and shook my head.

“Boys… we’re about to see a ghost,” I said with a sigh.

Hours later, the city lights of New York spread below us as the SHIELD transport touched down. The seven of us were ushered into a retro-looking room, a baseball game playing on the radio, and old posters on the wall. It looked wrong. Too clean. Too fake.

And there he was.

Steve Rogers. Captain America. Sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his hospital whites, eyes sharp, suspicious. He looked younger than I remembered, but harder too, like the ice had burned something into him.

The minute he saw us, he froze. His eyes narrowed, flicking from Darry’s broad frame to Pony’s glow, to Soda’s restless grin.

“...no,” Steve Rogers muttered, standing slowly. “You’re not real. I watched you…” His voice cracked. “I watched you all disappear into thin air.”

“Cap,” I said, stepping forward. “It’s us. The Strays. Reckless, Atlas, Mindlight, Breaker, Pulse, Ash, Jokester.” My throat tightened. “We’re real. We made it.”

Steve Rogers shook his head, backing away like a cornered animal.

“This, this is some kind of trick,” Steve Rogers asked.

Pony’s eyes lit soft, and I felt the ripple of calm he pushed out, steady and warm like sunlight after rain.

“It’s not a trick, Steve,” Pony said gently. “You’re not alone. We’re here. We’ve been here, waiting for you.”

Cap’s fists clenched, his chest heaving. Then his eyes locked on Darry.

Darry stood tall, calm as stone.

“It’s real, Cap,” Darry said calmly. “We never stopped fighting. And now neither do you.”

For a long moment, silence stretched.

Then Steve Rogers exhaled, his shoulders sagging as he finally let himself believe.

“...I had a date,” Steve Rogers whispered.

And my chest cracked all over again.

Chapter Text

Chapter 42

Johnny’s POV

The Helicarrier felt like a fortress in the sky, steel humming, engines vibrating underfoot, agents moving like ants with purpose. I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, a faint wisp of ash curling off my shoulder and dissolving before it could hit the floor. Some habits I couldn’t turn off.

Fury was waiting for us in a private briefing room, one eye fixed on us with that usual mix of command and trust.

"The world’s changing," Fury started, voice steady. "You boys have been at the center of it long enough to know I’m not exaggerating. Stark, Banner, Thor… and from the start, Rogers. We’re bringing them together. An initiative we’ve been planning for years. I want the Strays on it, too. Hawkeye and Black Widow will be joining."

Pony shifted in his seat, his glow flickering faintly in his eyes. Darry sat tall, like he already knew this was coming, jaw tight but steady. Steve’s fingers tapped against the table, restless with mechanical thought. Two-Bit grinned like Fury had just asked if he wanted to run a prank show. Soda leaned back, flashing that disarming smile even though the weight in the air wasn’t lost on him. Dally smirked, already imagining the chaos.

Fury’s gaze narrowed.

"This isn’t just another mission,” Fury continued. “This is the Avengers Initiative. Earth’s mightiest heroes, together."

I felt the heat stir in my chest. Heroes. That word still sat funny on my tongue. But I remembered Tulsa streets, the fire, the way we’d fought side by side since we were kids. We weren’t perfect. We weren’t polished. But we never let each other fall.

Before I could speak, Fury’s comm buzzed. His expression sharpened.

"It’s started," Fury said darkly. "The Tesseract’s been activated."

The air went heavy. I’d heard whispers about that cube, the kind of power it carried.

"We’re past phase one of evacuation," Coulson told Fury, voice tight. "But the Tesseract’s behaving like it has a mind of its own."

"Correction," Fury said, one eye never leaving that blue pulse. "It does."

We filed into the chamber, the Strays spreading out like instinct. Pony flinched the second we got near it, his empathic powers catching something none of us could.

"There’s someone… behind it," Pony whispered, eyes glowing faintly. "It’s not just energy. It’s…"

The light exploded.

A beam tore through the air, collapsing part of the chamber wall. I raised a cloak of ash without thinking, shielding Two-Bit and Soda as debris rained down. And then… he stepped through.

Loki.

Slick armor, horns gleaming, eyes lit with a madness that even I could feel in the pit of my chest.

"Sir," one of the agents stammered, weapon trembling.

Darry moved forward, his voice booming like a wall of command.

"Drop it,” Atlas (Darry) said. “He ain’t just a man."

Loki raised the scepter, and in a flash of light, the agent dropped anyway, lifeless. My blood ran hot, fire sparking down my arms.

"Well," Jokester (Two-Bit) muttered, trying for a joke even as he stumbled back, "guess we’re the welcome committee."

It wasn’t a fight. Not really. Loki carved through agents like they were nothing, that scepter of his dropping men with single strikes, blue light twisting their eyes until they turned on their own.

Pulse (Soda) blurred forward, disarming one agent before he could shoot Betty Ross’s dad. Ross had shown up with reinforcements, but even Pulse (Soda) couldn’t outpace Loki’s smirk.

We tried, God, we tried. I threw fire at him, turning the air into a storm of heat and ash, but he batted it aside with a flick of that scepter like swatting flies. Breaker (Steve) tried locking gears in the falling machinery, jamming the collapse before it crushed us. Atlas (Darry) took a direct blast, staggered but still standing, but even he couldn’t close the distance.

And then Loki had the cube. Just like that.

He slipped it into a device on his back, the glow dimming as if it belonged to him now. He turned, eyes sweeping the room, lingering on Fury and then, on us.

"A curious little pack," Loki sneered. "You play at being wolves, but you’re just strays."

I bristled, ash flaring around me. But his smirk only widened as he tapped the scepter against the floor.

A pulse shook the whole chamber, and we were thrown back like rag dolls.

By the time we scrambled to our feet, Loki was gone, taking Barton, Selvig, and half the base’s muscle with him. The ground above us groaned, the ceiling caving as the Tesseract’s energy burrowed deeper.

"We’re out of time," Fury barked, pulling us toward the exits.

The last thing I saw before the roof caved was the scorch of blue light disappearing into the night sky.

And I knew. Whatever we’d just been thrown into, it was bigger than the Hulk, bigger than Stark, bigger than anything.

This was war.

We barely cleared the wreckage when the whole base behind us collapsed inward, a black hole of dust and twisted steel. Fury shoved us toward the evac trucks, barking orders into a radio, Coulson right on his heels.

By the time we were airborne, the night sky over the desert burned with emergency lights, and the Strays sat in silence, every one of us staring at each other like we’d just been chewed up and spit out.
Pony’s hands shook. His glow hadn’t faded since Loki appeared. I caught a flicker of what he’d felt, something cold, proud, and merciless. It made my fire shudder in my chest.

"This ain’t just another job," Darry muttered finally, knuckles white on the railing. "This is somethin’ else."

He was right. We all knew it.

The helicarrier.

I swear my jaw nearly hit the deck when we first stepped aboard. From the outside, it looked like an aircraft carrier parked in the middle of the ocean. But when those turbines roared to life and the whole damn thing lifted, leaving waves crashing beneath us, my stomach dropped clean out of me.

Two-Bit whistled low.

"Well, boys, we officially live in a comic book," Two-Bit said with a smirk.

Soda smirked, leaning over the rail with zero fear.

"Comic books don’t have views like this,” Soda teased.

The rest of us clung to the nearest solid thing. Except Darry, who stood steady like he was carved outta the ship itself. Figures.

Inside was even crazier. A hive of SHIELD agents moved like one big machine, screens glowing, orders flying. Coulson walked us through the hangar, pointing out Stark’s tech stacked beside Chitauri weapons they’d salvaged who-knows-where.

That’s when Fury made it official.

"That team we were talking about is assembling now," Fury said, looking each of us in the eye. "You’ve fought together. You’ve fought alongside Stark, Rogers, Banner, and even Thor. You know the stakes. But this time… it’s all of you. And it’s them."

He gestured toward the glass.

I followed his line of sight and nearly choked.

Steve Rogers. Captain freakin’ America, alive and walking like no time had passed. Stark, already mouthing off at an agent. Romanoff, sharp as glass. And somewhere out there, Barton, Clint, now turned by Loki’s scepter.

The pieces were falling together, whether we liked it or not.

Pony leaned on me, his voice barely a whisper.

"They feel… different,” Pony murmured. “Like magnets. All pulling toward something big."

He didn’t have to tell me. I felt it too. That hum in the air is like a storm just waiting to break.

Dally cracked his knuckles, fire in his eyes.

"Good,” Dally grumbled. “I was gettin’ bored."

But me? Watching gods, geniuses, and soldiers all moving into place, my gut twisted. We weren’t just strays anymore.

We were part of something bigger.

And it scared the hell out of me.

The glass-walled conference room felt like it belonged in another world, clean, polished, cold. Didn’t matter that we’d walked in covered in desert dust and smoke; SHIELD wanted the best seats in the house for this circus.

We filed in first. Darry took the wall like he owned it, arms crossed, unreadable. Soda dropped into a chair and spun it sideways, flashing that lopsided grin like this was all just a poker game. Pony slipped in quietly, but the glow under his skin was restless, pulsing. Two-Bit? He whistled low at the spread of tech on the table and muttered something about stealing a touchscreen for his kitchen.

That’s when they came in.

Steve Rogers, straight-backed, jaw tight, like he hadn’t skipped seventy years. Romanoff, cool as a knife, her eyes sharp enough to cut through steel. Then Stark, with his damn smirk, like he was the one hosting this party. And finally Banner, shuffling in quietly, nervously, like a shadow that might explode if you stepped on it wrong.

"Quite the lineup," Two-Bit said under his breath, tipping an imaginary hat. "What’re we callin’ this? The freak show?"

I kicked him under the table before Romanoff’s eyes narrowed.

Fury stayed standing at the head of the room.

"You all know why you’re here,” Fury said. “The Tesseract’s gone, Loki has it, and every second we waste, he gets stronger."

Stark leaned back in his chair, hands laced behind his head.

"Cute speech,” Stark said. “But what you really mean is you’ve gathered every shiny toy in your box and you’re hopin’ we play nice together."

Cap’s jaw clenched.

"Is there a problem with that, Stark?" Rogers asked, annoyed.

"Only that I don’t like being anyone’s ‘toy.’" Stark shot him a sideways grin. "But hey, at least you showed up, Capsicle. Heard you were frozen stiffer than an old TV dinner."

Dally barked a laugh, leaning forward.

"Careful, tin man,” Dally teased. “He’s got more fight in him than you think."

Cap’s eyes flicked to Dally, then to Darry, like he was sizing us up. He nodded once, short and steady.

"It’s good to see you boys again,” Rogers said with a small smile. “It feels like old times."

The room went dead quiet. Even Stark lost the smirk for half a beat.

Darry’s voice was rough.

"Those were some good memories," Darry said.

Fury cut in before things got sentimental.

"Banner. Stark,” Fury said. “You two are gonna be working together, see what you can dig up on the Tesseract’s gamma signature."

Banner gave this nervous half-smile.

"Yeah, sure, put the two ticking time bombs in the same lab,” Banner said. “What could go wrong?"

Stark leaned forward, eyes sparking.

"Finally, someone who speaks my language," Stark said with a smirk.

Romanoff raised an eyebrow, dry as sandpaper.

"That’s debatable,” Natasha said.

All the while, Pony kept twitching in his seat. I felt it before I saw it, the swirl of emotion in him, everyone’s feelings bleeding through his skin. His eyes glowed faintly, his knuckles white.

"They don’t trust each other," Pony whispered to me, low enough no one else caught it. "It’s… loud. Anger, pride, fear. Like a storm."

And for once, I couldn’t disagree.

This wasn’t just a team. This was dynamite stacked in a circle, each of us holding a match.

And sooner or later, someone was gonna light it.

That’s when our pagers started beeping.

“Loki has been spotted in Germany,” Darry said. “We’ve got to move.”

Germany looked like a postcard, with clean streets, bright lights, and an opera house glowing gold in the night. But the way Fury had hustled us onto the jet, the way SHIELD agents whispered like the world was splitting apart… it didn’t feel pretty. It felt like a trap waiting to spring.

And then it did.

We weren’t even in the building yet when the screaming started. The doors blew open, people poured into the street, tuxes and gowns flying. I caught the taste of fear on the air, sharp and bitter, and my stomach turned.

We shoved our way in. The opera house glittered under chandeliers, but it was red with panic. At the center of it all, Loki. Staff in hand, armor gleaming like something outta a nightmare. He was smiling.
Not the good kind. The kinda smile that meant someone was about to bleed.

He raised the scepter, and the crowd hit the ground like dominoes.

"On your knees," Loki called out, voice booming, smooth as ice. "Kneel before me."

I burned inside, but my boots froze to the marble. Everyone else bent. Even Darry’s jaw locked as his knees touched stone, like it wasn’t his choice anymore. Soda shook his head, fighting it, but the pull was strong. Pony’s eyes lit like a candle as he tried to push back, emotions crackling through the room like static.

Me? I dropped slowly, fists clenched, ash curling around me like smoke. I hated it. Hated him.

"Is this what you want?" Loki said, striding through the kneeling crowd. "To be free from the burden of choice?"

He loved it. Every word dripped with it.

That’s when some old man stood up, stubborn as hell, chest puffed like he was facing down Hitler.

"Not to men like you," I sneered.

The crack of Loki’s staff charging lit the room, blue fire humming deadly.

Before I could move, a shield slammed down from nowhere, knocking the blast sideways.

The crowd gasped.

Captain America stood there, solid and unshaken, like he’d never left the war.

"The last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else," Rogers said, "we ended up disagreeing."

Loki sneered, but Cap raised his shield, firm.

"You know, the last guy who thought he was a god…" Loki said cooley. Loki flicked his wrist. "I don’t see him around."

The fight snapped loose.

Cap moved first, shield deflecting bolt after bolt. Atlas (Darry) and Reckless (Dally) rushed in, Dally soaking up energy, glowing hotter with every strike, Darry bulldozing through pews like they were paper. I threw fire across the floor, ash spinning into smoke to blind Loki, but his illusions split him into three, then five, each one laughing.

"Which one’s real?" Pulse (Soda) shouted, zipping through the phantoms, throwing off sparks of speed.

"None of them feels right!" Mindlight (Pony) cried, clutching his head, eyes burning with white light. "He’s twisting his emotions, our emotions, around us!"

And just when it seemed like Loki had us on strings, thunder cracked overhead.

Not thunder. Engines.

A black blur streaked across the sky, then landed in the street with a metallic thud. Gold-and-red armor gleamed under the city lights.

"Make way for Iron Man," Stark’s voice boomed from the suit. "You know, the shiny toy you couldn’t handle in a conference room."

He unleashed a barrage, blasting the real Loki through the opera house wall and out into the street.

By the time we got out there, Loki was already on his knees, staff knocked away, hands raised. Smiling.

Too easy. Way too easy.

Soda jogged up beside me, breathing hard but grinning.

"Well… that wasn’t so bad,” Soda said.

I shook my head, ash still curling off my shoulders. My gut twisted with heat I couldn’t put out.

"No," I muttered. "It’s just startin’."

Chapter Text

Chapter 43

Pony’s POV

The quinjet thrummed under our boots, steady but too quiet for what we’d just come through. Loki sat cuffed at the center like he owned the whole ride, chin tilted, smirk frozen on his face. Every flicker of his thoughts scratched against me, too slick, too sharp. His emotions weren’t clean; they shifted like oil on water, lies laid over lies.

I kept my distance, pressed against the bulkhead, but my glow still hummed at the edges. I couldn’t shut him out. His smug satisfaction was like static in my skull.

“Stop looking at him,” Dally muttered, arms crossed, his body still buzzing faintly with absorbed energy. “He wants you to.”

“I can’t help it,” I whispered. “He’s too loud.”

Across the way, Cap sat upright, shield resting against his knees. Calm, but not still, his mechanical sense of the jet kept twitching through the gears, a low hum I could almost feel. Darry leaned near him, solid and steady as a wall, watching Loki like he was a rattlesnake in a jar.

Two-Bit grinned faintly, even though the tension should’ve cut him down.

“Well, I gotta say, prison chic works for him,” Two-Bit teased. “Maybe we should’ve brought him sunglasses, complete the look.”

Soda chuckled, easy and charming like always, though his aura was dialed down, a faint hypnotic pulse keeping the crew from shaking apart. Johnny sat beside him, ash flickering up his sleeve, ready if Loki so much as twitched.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the prisoner.

“He’s…waiting for something,” I murmured.

Loki’s gaze slid to me, sharp as a knife. He didn’t speak, but the smile widened like he knew I’d just given myself away.

And that’s when the jet shuddered.

The whole cabin jolted, alarms blaring. Cap was on his feet instantly, Steve’s hand raised as if he could calm the engines with will alone. Darry braced against the wall, the metal groaning under his grip.

“What the hell…?” Soda started, but thunder drowned him out.

Not storm thunder. Not natural. This was heavier, older. My skin lit with cold fire as the air split.

Then the hatch shrieked, a figure dropping out of the night sky like a meteor. The jet shook as if the sky itself had grabbed hold of it.

Thor.

Armor gleaming, cape whipping, eyes blazing with stormlight. His hammer crackled, chained lightning alive in his grip.

He didn’t ask. He didn’t hesitate. He just tore into the jet, ripping Loki free like the cuffs were paper.

Loki’s grin only widened.

The storm had found us.

Thor didn’t linger. One crash of thunder and Loki was wrenched from his seat, hammer sparking as the god hauled him out into the night sky.

“Son of a…” Dally launched himself toward the hatch. “Nobody steals our prisoner!”

“Stay put,” Cap barked, already strapping his shield. His calm wasn’t forced; it was the same steady rhythm I remembered from the war, the one that made you think maybe, just maybe, you could win.

But Dally didn’t listen. He never did.

The rest of us followed out into the storm because that’s what Strays do, we don’t let one of our own run headfirst into a god’s fists alone.

The Quinjet’s ramp opened, and the forest below exploded with light as Thor landed. Loki barely touched ground before Thor slammed him against a boulder, voice booming with rage.

“You’ve brought shame upon our realm, brother!” Thor boomed.

Loki didn’t even flinch, just smirked.

Then Iron Man hit the ground like a comet.

The dirt scorched under his boots as Stark straightened, visor glowing.

“I don’t know what medieval cosplay you’re rocking, Point Break, but the guy’s ours,” Tony grumbled.

Dally grinned like a wolf.

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Dally said with glee.

Thor roared and swung Mjolnir. Iron Man caught the blow, repulsors sparking against god-lightning. The impact lit up the forest like noon, shockwaves rattling the trees.

“Atlas (Darry)!” Breaker (Steve) barked. “With me!”

Atlas (Darry) didn’t need more. He surged forward, catching Thor mid-swing. His strength held, barely, as Mjolnir shuddered against unbreakable flesh.

“We’re not doing this!” Atlas (Darry) shouted, voice like a crack across the storm. “Not again!”

But Thor only shoved harder.

Jokester (Two-Bit) leaned against a tree, dice rolling through his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

“So, are we picking teams?” Jokester (Two-Bit) teased. “’Cause I got five bucks says Iron Shiny-pants eats bark first.”

“Not helping,” I hissed, but his grin only widened, and, somehow, a branch snapped under Thor’s boot, throwing him off-balance just long enough for Atlas (Darry) to push him back. Luck twisted like always.

Pulse (Soda) blurred in, a streak of speed circling both fighters. His smile pulsed that soft hypnotic tug, calming edges, but even his field couldn’t pierce god-fueled fury or Tony’s ego.

“C’mon, fellas, save it for the alien invasion…” Pulse (Soda) said charmingly.

Thor hurled him aside with a single swing. Pulse (Soda) crashed through the brush, laughing breathless even as he spat dirt.

“Okay, maybe later!” Pulse (Soda) said, voice faltering.

Ash (Johnny) stepped forward, ash unfurling around him in a black cloak. Fire crackled along his arms, restrained but ready.

“Back off, Thunderboy,” Ash (Johnny) warned. “We’ve done this dance before. You don’t wanna burn round two.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed in recognition.

“Ash (Johnny),” Thor said darkly. “The mortal phoenix.”

“Damn right,” Ash (Johnny) grumbled.

The storm thickened. I felt every thread of it, the rage, the pride, the bone-deep desperation to prove worth. Thor’s emotions burned as bright as his lightning. Tony’s, sharp and brittle, all steel-wrapped fear. Atlas’s (Darry), steady like bedrock. It was too much, all of it colliding, and my glow surged before I could stop it.

Light flared, forcing all of them apart for a heartbeat.

“ENOUGH!” I shouted.

My voice cracked with the projection, emotions pulsing outward. Rage dulled. Ego dimmed. For a second, the clearing went silent but for thunder overhead.

That was when Cap stepped between us all, shield planted in the dirt. His voice cut clean, commanding but not cruel.

“We don’t have time for this,” Cap said sternly. “We need to work together, or we all lose.”

Thor’s chest heaved, lightning buzzing in his beard. Iron Man lowered his repulsors an inch. Atlas (Darry) flexed his fists, jaw tight but holding.

From the shadows, Loki chuckled, still pinned against the rock.

“Yes… Work together,” Loki mocked. “By all means.”

The storm hadn’t passed, but for the moment, we’d caged it.

The silence after the clash was heavier than the thunder. You could feel the ground holding its breath. Thor’s grip on Mjolnir loosened, but he didn’t drop his guard. Iron Man’s repulsors dimmed, but the suit still hummed like a caged animal.

And in the middle of it, Cap stood steady as a stone. Shield braced. Eyes locked on both of them.

“This is pointless,” Cap said. “We’ve got bigger problems than measuring who hits hardest.”

Thor’s eyes flicked to him, then to Darry, then to me, like he was trying to weigh how much of Midgard stood against him. Finally, he gave a curt nod.

“Very well,” Thor said reluctantly. “I will yield… for now.”

“Guy swings a hammer at me and suddenly we’re roommates,” Tony muttered. “Great.”

“Better than teammates who don’t listen,” Darry shot back, his voice that low gravel that always made people pause.

I reached out, brushing the edges of Thor’s emotions, his pride bruised but not broken, his heart still heavy with guilt over Loki. Stark’s frustration burned sharp, but there was curiosity under it too. Cap’s emotions, though, were steady, solid enough to ground us all.

The Quinjet came in low, floodlights slicing through the trees.

Coulson’s voice crackled in our ears: “Playtime’s over. We’re wheels up.”

The Helicarrier loomed on the horizon hours later, rising from the sea like something out of a dream, steel and engines turning water to storm. Even after all we’d seen, aliens, gods, fire from my own hands, this made me stop and stare.

Soda whistled low.

“Now that’s a ride,” Soda said with a grin.

Two-Bit leaned over the railing, grinning like he owned it already.

“Think they’ll let me drive?” Two-Bit asked with a smirk.

“No,” Steve and Darry said at the same time.

Thor didn’t react. His gaze stayed locked on Loki, shackled and silent, a smirk never leaving his face.

We filed into the briefing deck, tension dripping from every corner. Fury was waiting, arms folded, that one good eye narrowing at the group like he’d just caught kids fighting in his yard.

“You done beating each other to pieces?” Fury asked.

“Define done,” Stark shot back, peeling out of the suit like it was nothing.

Thor bristled, but Cap stepped in.

“We’re ready to focus,” Cap said sternly.

Fury turned his gaze on us, the Strays.

“And you?” Fury asked. “You gonna keep them in line?”

Dally smirked.

“We’re barely in line ourselves,” Dally said.

“Speak for yourself,” Darry said.

I stayed quiet, light humming faintly under my skin. The Tesseract was still out there, Loki still smiling, and I could feel the storm brewing again, this time not in the sky, but between us all.

Thor finally broke the silence.

“Loki is cunning,” Thor said, matter-of-factly. “You think you have captured him, but he is already ten steps ahead. You will need all of us if you hope to stop him.”

Even Fury couldn’t argue with that.

The uneasy truce settled over us like storm clouds refusing to break. Not peace. Just the kind of stillness that comes before something bigger.

The Helicarrier’s labs looked more like something out of a sci-fi book than anything on Earth. Sleek consoles, glowing readouts, panels of glass and steel humming with information I didn’t even have the words for. It made my head swim.

But Stark? He walked in like it was his living room.

“Now we’re talking,” Tony said with glee. “Finally, a playground worth my time.”
Banner gave a nervous half-smile, already drawn to the nearest terminal like it was gravity.

“I’ll need access to your spectrometer data,” Banner said nervously.

“Done,” Stark said, fingers flying. “And while we’re at it, how about a deep dive into gamma fluctuation models? I’ve been dying for someone who can keep up with me.”

Banner’s whole face lit up, like a storm cloud breaking.

“Actually… I’ve been working on a theory about resonance dampening,” Banner said with a smile. “If we calibrate it against the cube’s energy…”

Their voices overlapped, fast and sharp, bouncing off each other like sparks.

Soda leaned on the railing beside me, his grin spreading wide.

“I think Stark just found his soulmate,” Soda teased.

Two-Bit laughed, nudging him.

“Banner better watch out, Tony’s already ordering matching lab coats,” Two-Bit joked.

I should’ve been relieved to see them working, but unease coiled in my chest. Loki sat behind glass somewhere down the hall, and even from here, I could feel the edges of his mind brushing against mine. A slick, cold current is testing for cracks.

I shook it off, trying to focus on the room. Darry stood off to the side, arms crossed, his eyes locked on Stark and Banner. He didn’t trust easily, and seeing those two treating the Tesseract like a science project wasn’t doing him any favors.

Steve moved between them and Fury, calm but watchful, like he was ready to yank the plug on the whole operation if it went sideways.

Dally paced. Couldn’t sit still, could barely keep his hands out of his pockets. The longer Loki sat on this ship, the more Dally looked like a fuse waiting to light.

And Johnny… Johnny stood close to the observation glass, the faint shimmer of ash flickering across his shoulders like a reflex. He hadn’t said much since we’d landed, but I could feel his tension burning hot, like a coal waiting for air.

Banner leaned closer to the console.

“You’re tracking phase oscillations wrong,” Banner murmured. “See? If you adjust here…”

“Banner, Banner, Banner,” Stark interrupted, leaning over his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re still using Coulomb’s constant. That’s like balancing a checkbook with crayons.”

Johnny finally turned, eyebrow raised.

“Is it just me, or do we not have time for a science fair?” Johnny asked quietly.

Banner flinched, but Stark just smirked.

“Relax, Smokey the Bear,” Tony teased. “We’re saving the world and advancing modern science. Two birds, one genius.”

I tried not to smile, but the unease never left me. The light in the room flickered in time with my nerves. Something about this felt wrong, like Loki wanted us here, circling, bickering, distracted.

I closed my eyes for a second, reaching out with that empathic thread. Not enough to pry, just enough to test the air.

Tension. Fractures. Anger is simmering in everyone, tiny sparks, ready for the wrong word to set them off.

And beneath it all, from the glass cell far below… Loki’s satisfaction, cold and poisonous, bleeding through the cracks.

I opened my eyes, heart thudding. The storm wasn’t out there; it was building in here.

Chapter Text

Chapter 44

Soda’s POV

The Helicarrier hummed like a living thing. Every wall and floor thrummed with power, like we were floating on the back of some giant engine instead of a ship in the sky. And maybe we were. Stark had been making cracks about retrofits and “improvements” all morning, and Banner kept lighting up like a kid on Christmas at every schematic.

Me? I couldn’t stop moving. Pacing, tapping my fingers, running my tongue over my teeth. This place was caged lightning. It made me itchy.

In the glass-walled lab, Banner and Stark were hunched over computer banks, trading science jargon so fast I only caught a word here or there. Pony was hanging close, his light patterns shifting faintly with curiosity and a little awe. He loved listening, soaking it in, even if he didn’t understand half of it. Darry kept to the edges, arms crossed, posture screaming disapproval, but eyes locked on everything, like he was waiting for a brick to fall.

Two-Bit was leaning against a table, flicking a coin in the air and catching it, smirking at his own private jokes. Dally lounged by the reinforced glass, arms crossed, pretending to be bored. Johnny kept by him, close but quiet, flames flickering and dying along his fingers like nervous ticks. Steve (ours, not Rogers) was practically salivating at the tech, his gauntlets whirring faintly every time his mind reached out toward the Helicarrier’s engines.

And in the middle of it all, the arguments started.

“Phase Two isn’t about the Tesseract,” Stark said, leaning on the table with that smug tilt of his head. “It’s about building a nuclear deterrent with SHIELD toys. Fury’s keeping secrets.”

Cap bristled immediately.

“We were brought here to work together, not build weapons of mass destruction,” Cap argued.

“That’s adorable, Rogers,” Stark fired back. “But wake up. The world’s changing, and Fury knows it.”

“Fury’s hiding things,” Banner muttered, eyes narrowed at the schematics on-screen. “This isn’t science for protection. This is an escalation.”

Darry finally spoke, voice like a hammer.

“Secrets tear teams apart,” Darry said darkly. “If SHIELD’s hiding stuff, it’ll cost lives. I’ve seen it before.” He looked like he wanted to march straight to Fury’s office and demand answers.

My chest buzzed with tension. The air was thick, hotter, heavier, and it wasn’t just Johnny’s flames warming the room. Something was pushing us all, scraping at our nerves.

Pony stiffened suddenly. His eyes glowed faintly, and the grooves in his suit pulsed red.

“Guys,” Pony whispered. “It’s Loki. He’s… he’s pushing at us. Fanning the sparks.”

“Yeah, well, it’s working,” Dally snapped, slamming a fist against the glass so hard it rattled. “Why are we even listening to Fury? Why are we letting him play us like dogs on a leash?”

“Better than being Fury’s attack dog is being Loki’s puppet,” I shot back, faster than I meant. “Look at us, we’re snapping at each other while he’s locked up laughing.”

Two-Bit chuckled darkly, tossing his coin again.

“Kinda funny, if you think about it,” Two-Bit said with a smirk. “The trickster god gets us to trick ourselves.”

“Shut up, Two,” Darry growled.

That’s when tempers really blew. Stark and Rogers squared off, voices rising. Darry barked about responsibility, Dally cursed SHIELD’s name, Banner’s voice went sharp as glass, and Johnny’s flames licked higher with every word.

The whole place felt ready to combust.

And me? I did the only thing I could.

I drew a breath, rolled my shoulders, and let the charm ripple out. My grin stretched easily, my voice dropped low, a warmth that could bend steel.

“Hey, hey, c’mon now,” I said charmingly. “Deep breaths, everybody. We’re all friends here, right? Strays, Avengers, whatever you wanna call it, we’ve been through worse.”

It worked, somewhat. Banner unclenched, Rogers blinked, even Stark smirked like maybe I wasn’t so bad. But Pony’s voice cut through the haze, soft but urgent.

“He’s still in our heads,” Pony murmured. His lights flashed like warning sirens. “This isn’t just us arguing. This is him… pulling strings.”

I believed him. But before I could say more, alarms blared across the Helicarrier, the sound drilling into my bones. The floor vibrated, Johnny’s flames sputtered, Steve’s gauntlets lit up.

Something big was coming. And Loki’s smile down in his glass cage told us he knew it.

Then all of a sudden, the alarms screamed through the Helicarrier like a siren stuck in my chest. Lights flashed red across the lab, and for a second, all the yelling stopped; everybody’s heads snapped up.
“What the hell was that?” Two-Bit muttered, coin vanishing into his pocket like it never existed.

Fury’s voice barked over the comms.

“We are under attack!” Fury shouted. “Hostiles incoming on deck seven. Lock down all compartments, NOW.”

That was when the first explosion hit. The whole lab lurched sideways, glass rattling in the frames, metal groaning like a beast in pain. I shot forward, faster than anyone else, catching Johnny before he smacked into a console. Ash flared off him instinctively, hot enough to sting my arms.

“Thanks,” Johnny muttered, voice tight.

“No problem, just don’t barbecue me,” I teased.

A shadow streaked past the windows. A quinjet. Arrows thudded against the hull with explosive sparks. My stomach dropped.

“Hawkeye,” Natasha hissed.

The realization hit like cold water. Loki had him.

Another explosion tore open the deck, flames and smoke curling up through the air vents. The ship bucked again. Steve braced himself on the railing, metal groaning under his telekinetic grip. Darry was already moving, barking orders like we were back on some battlefield.

“Mindlight (Pony) and Jokester (Two-Bit) will secure the lab!” Atlas (Darry) shouted. “Breaker (Steve), with me, keep this bird in the air!”

Mindlight’s (Pony) lights flared around us in a shimmering shield just as another shockwave rattled the glass. The whole world shimmered pale blue, his emotions radiating steady calm into my head like a lifeline.

“Stay close,” Mindlight (Pony) said, and for once, I didn’t argue.

But Banner… Banner wasn’t calm.

He staggered to his knees, clutching his head, sweat pouring down his face.

“No… not now, I can’t..” Bruce stammered.

“Bruce!” Natasha was already moving toward him, eyes wide.

But I felt it, the shift in the air. Heavy, electric. Rage like a tidal wave swelling inside him, begging to break.

“Oh, hell,” Reckless (Dally) muttered. He wasn’t scared; he looked excited, like a fighter before the bell. “It’s happening.”

Ash’s (Johnny) ash swirled, nervous and hot.

Jokester (Two-Bit) whistled low, muttering, “Well, there goes our deposit.”

I darted in, crouching near Banner, my charm rolling like a warm tide.

“Bruce, hey, breathe,” I said with charm. “Stay with us, yeah? You don’t want the Other Guy running the show.”

His eyes snapped to mine, green flashing through the brown.

“It’s too late,” Bruce choked out.

Then he roared.

The lab exploded in chaos. Consoles flipped, glass shattered. Banner’s body swelled, muscles ripping fabric, skin flushing green as the Hulk ripped out of him with a sound that shook the walls.

“Go! MOVE!” Atlas (Darry) bellowed, shoving me toward the door just before a table flew across the room and embedded itself in the wall where we’d been.

The Hulk roared again, swinging wide. I blurred out of the way, zipping past flying debris, my pulse pounding. Even moving fast, I could feel the weight of his rage like a storm trying to swallow me.
Mindlight’s (Pony) shield flared, catching a chunk of metal before it could crush Natasha.

Ash (Johnny) flared up, ash cloaking him.

“We can’t fight him, we’ll tear this whole place apart!” Ash (Johnny) called nervously.

Reckless (Dally) grinned like a madman, already bracing.

“Speak for yourself,” Dally said with a smirk.

The floor tilted violently as another explosion rocked the Helicarrier. Through the smoke, I caught a glimpse of Hawkeye, perched and ready, arrows tipped with fire sparking against the hull. Loki’s fingerprints were all over this: chaos, division, destruction.

And we were right in the middle of it.

The Helicarrier was coming apart. No way around it. Smoke, fire, alarms screaming like a banshee, it felt like being inside a bomb going off in slow motion.

And right at the center of it: Hulk.

He tore through the lab, smashing consoles, tearing the floor plates like they were tinfoil. Mindlight’s (Pony) light shields flickered under the shockwaves, sparks of gold and blue dancing across his arms. He gritted his teeth, trying to steady the emotions bouncing around the room: fear, panic, anger, but the Hulk’s rage was a tidal wave he couldn’t stop.

I zipped across the room, scooping Natasha out of the way just before a fist cratered the wall where she’d been.

“You owe me one, Red!” I yelled, dropping her safely behind a barrier.

She didn’t answer; her eyes were locked on Banner’s massive frame as it barreled past, roaring like a thunderclap.

Atlas (Darry) stepped in front of us, square as a wall.

“Banner!” Atlas (Darry) shouted. “You’re not the enemy here!”

Didn’t matter. Hulk swung, and Atlas (Darry) caught the punch, boots sliding across the deck with sparks. The sound was like a bomb going off, metal shrieking, shockwave rattling through my teeth. Atlas (Darry) held for half a second, then got hurled across the room, smashing through a bulkhead. He groaned, already climbing back up.

“Okay… maybe he is,” Atlas (Darry) said with a wince.

Jokester (Two-Bit) darted around, his usual grin plastered on.

“Big guy doesn’t like you, Atlas (Darry)!” Jokester (Two-Bit) teased. “Guess he’s team Loki!” He waved his hands like a magician, and somehow Hulk’s next swing clipped a steel girder instead of Ash (Johnny). Even luck had a sense of humor.

Ash (Johnny) cloaked himself in ash, pelting the Hulk’s face with burning embers, not to hurt him, just to blind him long enough to pull Mindlight (Pony) out of the way.

Reckless (Dally)? He just laughed, chest glowing faintly as he absorbed shock after shock, every hit feeding him more power.

“Come on, Big Green!” Reckless (Dally) mocked. “Hit me again!”

And outside the lab, things weren’t better. Explosions ripped the Helicarrier, engines whining like they were about to die. Over comms, Coulson was shouting about sabotage.

I blurred out into the corridor, zipping past smoke and fire, and spotted him, Hawkeye, perched like death at the end of the hall, bow drawn.

“Clint, don’t do this!” Natasha’s voice snapped over the comms.

He didn’t even blink. Arrow loosed, explosive tip. I bolted, snatched it mid-air, but it detonated in my hand anyway, heat blistering my palm as the blast knocked me back through a doorway.

“That’s gonna bruise,” I muttered, coughing smoke.

Breaker (Steve) came running down the hall, one hand raised. The engines around us groaned, then settled. He was holding the gears steady with his mind, keeping the bird in the air.

“Pulse (Soda)!” Breaker (Steve) called. “Find Loki! He’s making his move.”

Sure enough, the god of mischief was walking free, smooth as ever. I caught sight of him through a shattered window, staff in hand, grin smug enough to make my teeth grind. He strolled past the chaos like he was walking a runway.

“Show-off,” I spat, darting after him.

But Loki had planned this too well, with traps in every corner. A flash of light, a trick duplicate, and I almost smashed into a bulkhead. He slipped away, and by the time I got back on my feet, the alarms were blaring about “containment breach.”

Back in the lab, things went from bad to worse.

Thor was there now, wrestling the Hulk across the floor, Mjolnir ringing against green skin like a war drum. Hulk roared, the ship rattled, and Pony screamed as the wave of rage nearly dropped him. Atlas (Darry) and Reckless (Dally) waded back in, trying to keep civilians clear, while Jokester (Two-Bit) shouted encouragements that made zero sense but somehow kept Hulk stumbling the wrong way.

Ash (Johnny) darted to me, face smeared in ash.

“This ship’s not gonna stay in the sky unless we fix those engines!” Ash (Johnny) said nervously.

He was right. Hulk was a problem, but the whole damn Helicarrier was about to fall out of the sky.

I zipped down to the hangar bay with Breaker (Steve) and Natasha, smoke choking the air. One engine was completely fried, but the other sputtered like it had a chance.

“We need that turbine turning again!” Breaker (Steve) barked.

“I’ll handle the parts!” Breaker (Steve) added, gripping the gears with his mind, holding them steady.

I blurred up the gantry, dodging gunfire from Loki’s goons. Arrows rained from Clint’s perch, but Natasha finally got through, literally. I watched her tackle him off the catwalk, fists flying, fighting to snap him out of Loki’s hold.

“Bout time,” I muttered, then zipped into the turbine chamber. The blades were jammed. I grabbed a bent panel, shoved with everything I had, and the engine roared back to life just as Breaker (Steve) slammed the last bolt into place with his mind.

The ship steadied. Barely.

By the time I got back topside, everything was smoke and silence. Hulk had been blasted off the Helicarrier, crashing who-knows-where below. Thor was missing, probably dropped with him. Natasha was panting beside Clint, who looked groggy but free. Pony was slumped against Darry, drained from holding shields for too long. Johnny hovered close, ash swirling like a guard dog.

And Loki? Gone. Slipped right through our fingers.

I wiped blood off my lip, breathing hard.

“Hell of a family reunion,” I muttered.

Nobody laughed this time.

Chapter Text

Chapter 45

Darry’s POV

The Helicarrier was still groaning like it’d been gutted, metal screaming against the strain as we patched up what we could. Smoke stung the air, alarms blared in the distance, and SHIELD techs scrambled like ants trying to keep the beast airborne. But all I could focus on was the silence in our group. That dead, heavy quiet after a storm tears through, and you realize what’s been taken.
Coulson.

We’d all seen him, lying there on the deck, the life bleeding outta him while Fury knelt down, trying to keep him here. The Strays had been through death before. Too much of it. But Coulson had believed in us the way no fed ever had. He wasn’t just another suit barking orders; he’d listened, laughed at Two-Bit’s jokes, and trusted us when half the world wouldn’t. And now he was gone.

Fury stood over the table in the command center, throwing files down hard enough that they scattered.

“These were in Coulson’s jacket,” Fury said. “He never got to show you.”

I watched Stark pick one up, his cocky front slipping for once. Cap didn’t say a word, just stared at the blood-stained trading cards like the past had come back to kick him in the teeth.

Beside me, Pony flinched, emotions rippling off him like a radio signal I couldn’t quite catch but felt in my bones. Soda reached out and gripped his shoulder, grounding him. Dally cursed under his breath, fists balled so tight they shook. Johnny’s hands flickered with faint embers, his way of grieving, while Two-Bit, hell, even he didn’t crack a joke. Just looked at the cards, eyes sharp for once.

Fury’s voice dropped, gravel heavy with fire.

“They needed the push,” Fury said. He met each of our gazes, Strays and Avengers alike. “Coulson believed in heroes. He died still believing. Now it’s up to you to prove him right.”

I felt it then, the shift. That stubborn thread tying strangers into something more. Not just soldiers, not just misfits. A team.

I drew in a long breath, steadying myself like I had a thousand times before. My brothers, my Strays, we’d been fighting to matter our whole lives. And now we had a bigger fight than ever.

Coulson’s death wasn’t gonna be for nothing.

The Helicarrier hummed steadily again, patched up just enough to limp forward, but none of us were standing still. Coulson’s blood wasn’t dry, and yet Fury was already turning it into fuel.

We gathered around the table, Stark, Cap, Romanoff, Banner, Thor…and us. The Strays. Misfits turned soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder with gods and geniuses.

“This was the plan,” Stark said, voice sharp but hollow. “Coulson’s plan. Loki wants a show, a war, well, we’ll give him one.”
Cap straightened, that old soldier grit coming back into his eyes.

“Stark’s right,” Cap said sternly. “We know what Loki’s after, and now he’s got the Tesseract and an army coming through. We’ve gotta stop him.”

I crossed my arms, the weight of it settling on me.

“Then we hit him hard and fast, before he tears Manhattan apart,” I grumbled. “Atlas-style.”

Steve (Breaker) to me, Captain America to the world, gave a small nod my way. Respectful. Like he remembered every fight we’d pulled through back in the war.

Thor shifted, Mjolnir crackling at his side.

“My brother will bring destruction to Midgard,” Thor said darkly. “But united, we can end his madness.”

Beside me, Pony (Mindlight) looked pale, emotions pulsing like a storm around him.

“He’s building something bigger than a fight,” Pony said quietly. “Loki doesn’t just want destruction. He wants us divided.”

“Then screw him,” Dally muttered, Reckless fire in his voice. “We stick together, he can’t win.”
Two-Bit (Jokester) tossed a grin in the middle of the tension.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” Two-Bit joked. “Giant alien army? Demigod temper tantrum? Another exploding lab? Please, I’m running outta material here.”

Even Stark cracked a small smile at that. The tension eased, just a notch.

Fury’s voice broke in over comms.

“Stark Tower,” Fury said. “Loki’s making his stand there. Gear up, you’re all going in.”

That was it. No turning back.

We split, each of us falling into motion like cogs finally finding their place. Stark headed for his armor bay. Cap suited up, shield gleaming. Thor gripped his hammer like he was born ready. Natasha and Clint checked their weapons with the kind of silence that meant fury brewing under the skin.

And us? The Strays checked each other. Breaker (Steve) ran his hand over a gear-locked pistol before tucking it away. Ash’s (Johnny) palms flickered with ash like a nervous tick, Pulse (Soda) stretched out his legs, vibrating with speed he barely contained, and Mindlight’s (Pony) eyes glowed faintly, his power humming with nerves.

I laid a heavy hand on Mindlight’s (Pony) shoulder.

“You’re ready,” I said quietly. “We all are.”

He looked up at me, nodded once, and I knew he believed it, because I believed it for him.

We were going to New York.

And we were going to war.

New York was chaos. Sirens blaring, people screaming, cars jammed bumper to bumper in a grid that wasn’t moving anywhere but down into panic. And above us, hell opened.

The sky tore itself apart as Loki’s portal widened, spilling Chitauri ships into Manhattan like hornets out of a nest. Stark streaked upward, a red-and-gold comet slamming into the first wave, but there were too many.

We hit the ground hard, Thor’s landing shook the pavement, Cap barked orders, Natasha and Barton sprinted for cover, and the Strays spread wide, every one of us already sparking with power.

“Atlas (Darry), you’re on containment,” Cap shouted, like he still outranked me. Guess in a way he did. “Keep those things off the civilians.”

“On it,” I growled, already charging forward, bracing my body between a crowd of people and the oncoming line of alien soldiers. One Chitauri fired a blast, and I took it straight in the chest, barely staggered. I grabbed the bastard by the throat and slammed him into a cab. Metal crumpled like tin foil.

Mindlight (Pony) flared beside me, his light weaving into a shield that caught stray blasts before they could hit civilians. His empathy hit me like a warm pulse; he was steadying everyone, making them run, not freeze.

Pulse (Soda) blurred past us, pulse of air and charm that left three Chitauri tripping over themselves like they’d suddenly forgotten how to fight. He gave me a wink before racing up the hood of a car and kicking one square in the jaw.

Ash (Johnny) was fire and fury. His hands ignited, and ash spiraled into razors, shredding through an alien’s armor. He cloaked himself in smoke and vanished, reappearing with a burst of flame at another’s back.

Jokester (Two-Bit) laughed like this was the funniest night of his life.

“Hey, ugly!” Jokester (Two-Bit) shouted, tossing a bent street sign like a javelin. The damn thing hit the ground, bounced, and ricocheted, smacking three Chitauri in a row. Luck. His luck.

Breaker (Steve) snapped his fingers at a wrecked SUV, gears groaning as it rolled itself into motion. He sent it barreling into a squadron like he was playing with toy cars.

“Never gets old,” Breaker (Steve) muttered.

And then, Stark crashed down, Cap landed beside him, Thor’s cape snapped in the wind, and Hulk came charging out of nowhere, roaring like an earthquake given flesh.

We circled.

Us and them.

The Avengers. And the Strays.

Aliens swarmed, buildings smoked, and right in the middle of Midtown, time felt like it held its breath.

Cap’s voice cut the silence.

“Alright,” Cap said sternly. “Listen up. We’ve got the Chitauri to deal with, and we’ve got to close that portal. Stark, take the skies. Thor, bottleneck the portal. Hulk…”

Hulk smashed his fist into his palm with a grin.

Cap smirked faintly.

“Smash,” Cap said.

He turned to us, his eyes catching mine, then Mindlight’s (Pony), then Ash’s (Johnny).

“Strays, back us up,” Cap said. “Keep the streets clear. Contain the fight, and don’t let these things tear the city apart.”

I stepped forward, fists clenched, chest like a wall.

“We’re not backing anyone up,” I said. “We’re in this. Right here. Right now.”

For a second, every one of us was silent, heroes and strays, gods and kids.

And then the circle closed.

Thor spinning Mjolnir. Stark’s armor is clicking into place. Hulk huffing like a bull. Cap steady at the center. Black Widow is loading her pistols. Hawkeye notches his arrow.

And us, Ash (Johnny) cloaked in ash-fire, Pulse (Soda) crackling with speed, Mindlight (Pony) glowing with light, Breaker (Steve) with gears spinning in his palms, Jokester (Two-Bit) grinning like trouble itself, Reckless (Dally) sparked with energy, and me, Darry Curtis (Atlas), holding the line.

The city roared. The aliens came.

And together, we assembled.

The circle broke in a storm of movement. Cap’s voice carried, steady even with hell raining down.

“Atlas (Darry), Ash (Johnny) street level,” Cap ordered. “Keep the civilians moving, bottleneck those troops at Broadway. Breaker (Steve), you’re with Stark, control whatever tech you can, slow their advance. Pulse (Soda), Mindlight (Pony), you’re running interference, keep the squads off balance. Jokester (Two-Bit) sticks with Romanoff and Barton, keeps their shots landing where they count. Reckless (Dally), you are with Thor to help out with directing energy.”

Everyone moved. Everyone knew their role.

I barreled into the street with Johnny at my side, fire wreathing him like a second skin. A Chitauri warrior lunged out of the smoke, spear raised. I took the hit full-on; it stung, sure, but the energy bled into me, made my arms thrum like live wires. I grabbed his weapon, snapped it in half, and smashed him across the hood of a taxi.

Ash’s (Johnny) ash swirled like a tornado, blinding three more before he sent a stream of fire that lit up the pavement.

“That enough light for you, Atlas (Darry)?” Johnny asked.

“Plenty,” I grunted, hauling a chunk of concrete into the air and hurling it into another pack.

Overhead, Stark’s repulsors lit up the sky, and Breaker (Steve) extended a hand, pulling apart one of the smaller Chitauri gliders midair, its gears spinning free before it spiraled down in a fireball. He whistled low, like it was just another day at the garage.

Mindlight (Pony) stood on top of an overturned bus, glowing like a beacon. His illusions multiplied, scattering false images of fleeing civilians. Half the aliens chased shadows, leaving the real people safe. His empathic pulse hit me again, courage, sharp and clean. It made me stand taller, punch harder.

Pulse (Soda) blurred through the crosswalk, knocking weapons out of hands, smiling just enough to make one Chitauri hesitate before Pulse (Soda) floored him with a kick.

“Don’t take this personally,” Pulse (Soda) quipped, grinning.

Jokester (Two-Bit) tumbled out of an alley with Natasha, his grin wide.

“Alright, who’s uglier, these guys, or my cousin Edna after three cocktails?” Jokester (Two-Bit) joked. He flicked a bent coin into the street. It bounced off a hydrant, ricocheted off a lamppost, and clocked a Chitauri in the forehead just as Natasha’s bullets dropped the rest.

“Don’t quit your day job,” Natasha muttered, reloading.

“Don’t have one,” Jokester (Two-Bit) fired back.

Explosions rocked the block. We regrouped near Grand Central, the Chitauri pouring from the portal in endless waves. Stark flew low.

“We’ve got to contain that wormhole,” Stark called. “Anybody got a plan for ‘close the giant space door’?”

“Thor and I will slow them at the portal,” Cap snapped. “Hulk…”

Hulk roared, tore a Chitauri chariot from the sky, and smashed it into the pavement like it was cardboard.

Thor spun Mjolnir, lightning tearing a path through the swarm above.

“I will stem the tide!” Thor roared.

The fight spilled everywhere. Every corner, every street was fire and smoke.

Ash (Johnny) and I kept civilians funneled into subway stations, Ash’s (Johnny) ash covering their retreat, my body blocking stray blasts. At one point, a building façade came crashing down, I caught the slab of concrete before it could crush a family huddled below. Their eyes went wide.

One of the kids whispered, “He’s like Captain America.”

I almost dropped the slab.

We didn’t get time to think, because more gliders screamed overhead.

Breaker (Steve) ripped apart their engines mid-flight, Pulse (Soda) ran along a rooftop, knocking them into one another like dominoes, and Mindlight (Pony) cast a massive dome of light that shielded a group of pinned cops from the incoming barrage.

By the time we regrouped again, the air stank of smoke and ozone. Loki himself stood smug in Stark Tower until Hulk barged in, snatched him up like a ragdoll, and slammed him into the floor again and again.

“Puny god,” Hulk muttered, walking off.

Jokester (Two-Bit) doubled over laughing.

“Best. Thing. Ever.” Jokester (Two-Bit) joked.

But the victory was short. Cap’s voice hit us over comms.

“Heads up, the big one’s coming through!” Cap called.

And there it was, the Leviathan. A massive, armored Chitauri beast surging out of the portal, blotting out the sky.

The Strays stood shoulder to shoulder with the Avengers, sweat, ash, and fire clinging to us.

I clenched my fists, felt the city shudder beneath us.

“Alright,” I muttered, glancing at my brothers and the gang. “Time to show New York what Strays can do.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 46

Two-Bit’s POV

You ever notice how the universe’s got this messed-up sense of humor? Like, it waits ‘til alien worms are crashin’ through skyscrapers and the sky’s rippin’ open like a busted piñata, then decides, hey, this is the perfect time to throw your soulmate in front of ya.

Lucky for me, chaos is kinda my thing.

Blaster fire lit up the street, chunks of concrete raining down.

“Alright, Jokester (Two-Bit),” I muttered, diving behind a wrecked cab just as a Chitauri bolt scorched the hood. “Time to let the luck ride.” I peeked up, fired my pistol, clicked, and jammed. But the alien’s weapon sputtered too, exploding in his own hands. I grinned. “See? Always pays to gamble.”

And then the big one came. The Leviathan. A metal space-whale with teeth like a junkyard nightmare barreling down Broadway.

“Breaker (Steve)! You got the engine mojo?” I yelled.

Steve (our Steve, not Cap, man, that gets confusing quick) raised his hand, every wrecked car around us rattlin’. “On it!” He yanked an entire city bus upright, gears grinding under his control.

Atlas (Darry) was already in the street, bracing like the human wall he was.

“Strays!” Atlas (Darry) shouted. “Push it toward Stark!”

Tony zipped by in the Mark VII, blasting. Thor’s hammer lit the sky. Hulk, well, Hulk did what Hulk does.

And in the middle of that chaos, fate showed up.

First, Mindlight (Pony). Poor kid was shielding civilians with a wall of blinding light when this reporter, short curls, glasses slipping down her nose, didn’t run. She lifted her camera instead, snapping shots of Chitauri like they were just another day in Manhattan. Mindlight (Pony) practically tackled her out of the way, light flaring as a bolt whizzed past.

“Are you crazy?!” Mindlight (Pony) yelled.

She shoved her glasses back up, breathless.

“Clara Reyes,” Clara said with a grin. “Daily Bugle. And yeah, maybe a little.”

Even in battle, I swear I saw Mindlight (Pony) blush. Figures.

Next was Ash (Johnny). Ash (Johnny) was fire-dancing, burning a squad outta the sky, when he spotted an EMT pulling a bleeding guy behind cover. Teal buzzcut, tattoos flashing, calm like they’d done this before.

“Need a hand?” Ash (Johnny) croaked.

The EMT, Avery, just smirked.

“Only if you can keep from burning the patient,” Avery teased.

Johnny laughed, nervous, but for the first time since I’d known him, he didn’t look haunted.

Then Reckless (Dally). Reckless (Dally) was swinging fists like a wrecking ball, soaking up every blast. And who comes storming in but a woman taller than him, braid whipping behind her, yelling at a pack of kids to stay down. She slugged a Chitauri with bare knuckles. Dally froze, watching her.

“Marina?” Dally asked in confusion.

She shot him a glare.

“Don’t just stand there, hotshot, fight!” Marina grumbled.

He grinned like a devil. Oh yeah, he was gone.

Pulse (Soda) blurred in next. He snatched a woman outta the path of falling rubble, only to realize she wasn’t screaming or fainting. She was laughing. Radio logo on her jacket, headphones slung around her neck.

“Name’s Naomi,” Naomi said with a dazzling grin. “Guess you’re fast enough to keep up with me.”

Soda actually stuttered. Soda. The guy who never shuts up. That’s how you know it’s serious.

Atlas (Darry) found his match, too. Atlas (Darry) was holding up a collapsed beam, straining against the weight, when a blonde in scrubs rushed under.

“Drop it on my mark!” she barked. “I can stabilize him if you clear the space.”

Atlas (Darry) blinked.

“Doctor?” Atlas (Darry) asked in confusion.

“Dr. Evelyn Sharpe,” she snapped, hands already moving. “Now move, Atlas!”

And, damn if he didn’t obey. Respect all over his face.

Breaker (Steve) spotted his too, Talia, Stark tech badge clipped to her belt, hot-wiring a busted Humvee into a turret.

“Thought Stark’s engineers were useless,” Steve muttered.

She smirked.

“I’m not Stark’s,” Talia quipped. “I’m mine.”

Breaker (Steve) grinned, gears spinning under his telekinesis, syncing with her rig. Perfect match.

And then there was me. Jokester.

I was ducking between blasts when I saw her, red curls wild, freckles splattered, flipping a Chitauri’s weapon in her hands like she’d just picked a pocket.

“Looking for this?” she teased, tossing it my way.

I caught it by dumb luck, of course, blasting an alien clean off its hover-chariot.

“Name’s Two-Bit,” I called.

She winked.

“Harper Quinn,” she said with a grin. “Magician. Guess we’re partners now.”

And just like that, chaos didn’t feel so lonely.

The Leviathan roared again, but between Stark, Thor, Hulk, Cap, and us Strays, we took it down, Breaker’s (Steve) jury-rigged bus cannon, Ash’s (Johnny) fire cloak, Mindlight’s (Pony) blinding strike, Pulse’s (Soda) speed run planting explosives, Atlas (Darry) bracing the street, Reckless (Dally) riding the damn thing like a rodeo bull, and me? I fired the last lucky shot, right into its eye.

It crashed, the ground shaking like a bad hangover.

We regrouped, battered and bruised, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Avengers as the sky lit with fire. And there, next to each of us, stood someone new. Someone fate had shoved into our orbit at the worst, and somehow the best, possible moment.

“Strays,” I muttered, breathless, looking at my team, our new allies, and the wreckage around us. “Looks like we just got a little bigger.”

The sky was still spittin’ fire, Chitauri diving like mosquitoes from hell, and we were still breathin’. Barely. The Leviathan’s carcass smoked half a block away, and for a second, I thought maybe we’d turned the tide.

Then Fury’s voice crackled through Stark’s comms. And the words hit like a gut punch.

“They’ve launched the nuke.”

…Well, hell.

Stark’s faceplate shifted, his voice tight.

“I’ll take it,” Stark grumbled.

We all looked up, a streak cutting through the clouds, one big, city-killer missile with Manhattan’s name carved in bold letters. Cap shouted something, and Atlas (Darry) cursed under his breath.

“Great,” I muttered. “Knew today was gonna be a bad luck day.”

But Stark didn’t hesitate. He caught the nuke, engines screaming, dragging that sucker straight up toward the portal.

We all fought harder then. Ash (Johnny) was flames incarnate, Avery at his side, dragging wounded to cover. Reckless (Dally) and Marina fought like a tag team, him swinging debris like a madman, her knocking out Chitauri with fists that cracked like thunder. Pulse (Soda) zipped, a blur of charm and fire, Naomi shouting encouragement into her radio mic like she could broadcast courage itself.

Atlas (Darry) was bleeding, bruised, and still holding an entire wall upright to keep civilians safe. Dr. Sharpe was right there with him, patching folks even while dust rained down. Breaker (Steve) and Talia turned a wrecked Stark drone into a makeshift turret, gears spinning under his power, her hands steady as she rewired hell into hope.

Mindlight (Pony) burned brighter than I’d ever seen him, Clara’s voice carrying over the chaos as she filmed.

“You can do this!” Clara shouted. He believed it, ‘cause she did.

And me? I was right where I belonged, laughing at the odds, Harper at my shoulder.

“Heads up,” Harper yelled, tossing me a stolen Chitauri staff. I caught it without looking and fried two aliens mid-air.

“See?” I said, grinning through the sweat. “Luck.”

She smirked.

“Or me,” Harper teased.

I’ll take both.

Up above, Stark disappeared through the portal, missile dragging behind. Time froze. Every second stretched like taffy. I swear the city held its breath.

Then: BOOM.

The nuke went off in space. Light flared, the portal swallowing fire. Stark didn’t come back.

Not right away.

Pulse (Soda) stopped moving. Mindlight’s (Pony) shield flickered. Atlas (Darry) swore under his breath. Even Cap faltered.

And then, falling, Tony’s armor shut down, his body tumbling like a broken toy.

We all screamed his name. Even me.

Hulk made the grab. One giant green hand snapped him outta free-fall and crashed them both onto a building. Stark wheezed back to life, helmet sputtering. We all laughed, half hysterical, half in relief.
And then the portal closed.

The Chitauri dropped like puppets with cut strings. Silence rolled over the city, broken only by the fires crackling, sirens wailing, and a few nervous laughs.

We’d done it. Somehow, by some impossible twist of luck and grit, we’d won.

And in the middle of the wreckage, the Strays weren’t just seven scrappy kids anymore. We were seven scrappy kids with people beside us: Clara, Avery, Marina, Naomi, Evelyn, Talia, Harper. People we hadn’t planned on, hadn’t asked for, but fate threw ‘em right in. Right when we needed ‘em most.

I looked around at the mess, at the team, at Harper standing close enough that our shoulders touched.

“Guess the universe knows what it’s doin’ after all,” I muttered.

Harper snorted.

“Or maybe you’re just lucky,” Harper teased.

I grinned.

“Same difference,” I said.

The city was still smoking behind us, towers leaning, sirens blaring. The sky was just sky again, blue, innocent, like nothing happened. My knuckles were split, my ribs hurt every time I laughed (and I couldn’t stop laughing), but for the first time all day, I wasn’t worried about the next wave.

We stumbled into some hole-in-the-wall shawarma joint Stark swore by. Chairs scraped, bodies collapsed, not a single soul said a word for a good ten minutes.

Cap sat stiff, helmet off, dirt in his hair, trying not to stare at the meat roasting on the spit like it might salute him back. Thor looked confused by the lack of goblets. Hulk, well, Banner again, slouched like he’d just run a marathon, which I guess he had.

The Strays? We spread out at the long table, shoulders slumped, bruises blooming. And somehow, like the world had tilted just enough to bring them in, our new… what? Allies? Friends? Something more? They were there too.

Ponyboy sat across from Clara Reyes, both of ‘em too tired to talk but locked in that quiet writer-journalist stare like they were already composing the story in their heads. Every time her glasses slipped down her nose, he smiled, and she pushed ‘em back up like clockwork.

Johnny had Avery next to him, a teal buzzcut glowing under the bad fluorescent lights. They passed him a napkin, gentle as anything, wiping blood he hadn’t noticed off his cheek. He ducked his head, embarrassed, but didn’t pull away.

Dally was chewing like the food owed him money, but Marina was right there, arms crossed, glaring until he slowed down and remembered how forks work. He muttered something, she smacked his arm, and he grinned, like that was the point.

Soda was telling Naomi a story, voice low, hand moving quick as always, and she just laughed, warm and musical. The rest of us could hear it even over the clatter of dishes.

Darry leaned back, eyes half-closed, Evelyn Sharpe beside him, straight-backed and calm, like an ER shift never ended for her. She handed him water like it was a prescription, and he actually said “thanks” before sipping. Small miracle.

Steve Randle? He was already elbow-deep in some busted toaster the shop kept on a shelf, Talia smirking, handing him tools like they’d been doing this their whole lives. Chitauri army one minute, greasy repair job the next.

And me? Harper sat across, hair wild, a sparkle of mischief even in the exhaustion. She slid her empty plate toward me.

“Bet you can’t sneak another pita without anyone noticing,” Harper whispered.

I grinned, hand already moving.

“Sweetheart, I was born for this,” I teased.

Around us, the world outside was patching up, counting the cost. But in here? Just us. Heroes, misfits, gods, soldiers… and a bunch of people fate shoved into our orbit.

No speeches. No plans. Just shawarma.

And maybe, just maybe, the start of something bigger.

Chapter Text

Chapter 47

Steve’s POV

The dust of New York still clung to the air, the smoke curling up in slow, lazy plumes against a sky that had only just closed its wound. The portal was gone. The Chitauri were down. And for the first time in hours, the city was starting to breathe again.

I stood with the Strays, my family, and the others, watching as Loki was dragged to his feet, wrists shackled. He looked less like a god and more like a sulking kid who’d lost the world’s worst bet. Thor stayed at his side, one hand gripping the Tesseract’s case, the other clutching Mjolnir like it was the only thing keeping this planet safe.

“Loki will answer for this in Asgard,” Thor said, voice steady, but I could hear the weight in it.

Fury nodded, his one eye sharp.

“Take the cube,” Fury said. “Take your brother. Just make sure we don’t have to clean up another mess like this.”

Thor gave him that half-bow, then turned. Loki sneered at all of us, but even his smirk looked cracked now. Then the Bifrost energy swirled, light engulfing the two of them, and in a blink, they were gone.
The silence afterward felt… big. Too big.

I looked down the line, at Pony, Soda, Darry, Johnny, Two-Bit, and Dally. They were banged up but standing. Clara hovered near Pony, brushing ash and blood off his sleeve, her eyes sharp even through exhaustion. Avery stuck close to Johnny, steady and protective, fingers brushing his arm when his hands trembled from too much fire spent.

Marina leaned on a crumbling wall with her arms crossed, but her gaze stayed locked on Dally like she wasn’t letting him pull one reckless stunt without her. Naomi had her arm linked with Soda’s, rolling her eyes at his grin but smiling all the same. Evelyn was patching up Darry with brisk, efficient hands, muttering about stitches. And Harper had climbed onto a piece of rubble, red curls wild, calling Two-Bit her “idiot knight of chaos” while he bowed like it was a stage.

And me? I had Talia. Grease still smudged her jawline from earlier, but she leaned against my shoulder, eyes tracking every last SHIELD agent swarming the wreckage. She didn’t say much, never did unless she needed to, but her presence was solid. Like the hum of an engine you know you can trust.

Fury stepped up, coat flapping in the smoky wind.

“You all know what you just did, right?” Furgy grumbled. His gaze cut across all of us, the Avengers, the Strays, the people who had stood against the end of the world. “You made them believe. This world… they needed to see it could be defended. By more than governments. By more than fear. They needed to see people stand together.”

Fury let the words hang. None of us answered, but I felt it settle in my chest, the truth of it.

Tony scoffed, brushing off soot from his arc reactor.

“So what, we’re just supposed to come running every time the world ends?” Tony asked.

Fury smirked.

“I think you already answered that question,” Fury said sarcastically.

And just like that, it was clear: this wasn’t over. Maybe it never would be.

The team broke apart slowly after that. Banner and Stark traded quiet science jokes even through the rubble. Natasha and Clint slipped into the shadows, too used to being ghosts. And the Strays lingered a little longer, our new people by our sides.

Family had gotten us this far. Maybe love would carry us the rest of the way.

The year after New York was the first time since this all started that I felt like maybe we weren’t running on fumes. We had scars, sure, but for once it felt like we could breathe.

The Strays split time between helping SHIELD, where they could, and trying to piece together lives outside the chaos. And this time, none of us had to do it alone.

Pony spent most of 2012 with Clara Reyes shadowing him. She had this way of sneaking past every door labeled “restricted access,” and somehow Pony always ended up right behind her, trying to keep her out of trouble while she scribbled notes for the Daily Bugle. Clara pushed him to write more than just his journals, sometimes articles, sometimes letters that never got sent. I think she helped him carry the weight in his chest.

Johnny worked quietly. Avery Chen moved into his orbit, like they’d always belonged there. They never pried at his silence, just sat next to him, sketching tattoo designs while he watched the smoke curl off his fingertips. The two of them even opened a little side shop together, a mix of ink and EMT shifts that somehow kept Johnny grounded.

Dally? He swore up and down he didn’t “do relationships,” but Marina Velez had him wrapped without even trying. She’d show up at the gym he helped her run in Hell’s Kitchen, call him out when he pushed too hard, and stand her ground when he snapped. It was fire meeting fire, and weirdly, it kept him steady.

Soda found Naomi Brooks like he’d been waiting for her his whole life. She had a laugh that could cut through anything, and when they weren’t dancing in a record store or sneaking into radio stations, they were just… happy. And Soda hadn’t had a lot of that lately.

Darry, as usual, carried too much, but Evelyn Sharpe refused to let him carry it alone. The ER doctor didn’t take his lectures, didn’t take his silence, and sometimes didn’t even take his help, but she always made him sit down and breathe. They were stubborn mirrors of each other, and that’s why it worked.

Two-Bit spent the year bouncing off Harper Quinn, a magician-slash-con artist who matched his chaos beat for beat. Together, they drove us all insane, coin tricks at breakfast, fake “lost wallet” scams just to prove a point, but I hadn’t seen Two-Bit this alive in years.

And me? Talia Hassan kept my world spinning. We built engines together in the quiet hours, grease staining our hands while the world kept demanding too much of us. She had this sharp way of cutting through my temper with logic, and I needed it more than I liked to admit.

By April 2013, we were a unit, messy, loud, scarred, but whole. And just when it felt like maybe the world would leave us alone, Fury called.
His voice on the line was clipped, urgent.

“Suit up,” Fury ordered. “Stark’s spiraling. The world can’t afford him crashing this hard. You’re going to need to pull him back before he burns himself out. Or worse.”

It wasn’t the Chitauri this time. It wasn’t gods or portals. But something in Fury’s tone made my stomach knot. Because when Tony Stark started to crack, the whole world could feel the tremor.

And just like that, it began again. Iron Man’s story. Our story.

Tony’s voice opened the memory like a scar being scratched.

"A famous man once said, ‘We create our own demons.’" Tony narrated.

And just like that, we were back in 1999.

We hadn’t been with Tony long then, just a few Strays pulled into SHIELD’s orbit after HYDRA, after the Red Skull, before all of… this. They thought it’d be good for us to “observe” Stark Industries’ genius. What we got was Tony drunk in a Bern hotel ballroom on New Year’s Eve, laser pointer in one hand, glass of champagne in the other.

The man we knew now, the one who built armor to shield the world, that wasn’t him yet. This was the selfish, too-bright, too-loud Stark.

Maya Hansen was there, pitching Extremis like it was the cure to everything. Aldrich Killian limped up with his greasy hair and eager eyes, begging Tony for a meeting about AIM. Tony ditched him on the roof, never intending to show. We saw Killian’s smile twist into something rotten as the fireworks burst overhead.

I remember Darry muttering under his breath, arms crossed like a wall.

“That’s gonna come back around,” Darry had said. He wasn’t wrong.

Even then, Pony shifted uncomfortably, catching the wave of humiliation rolling off Killian like heat.

“He’s gonna remember this,” Pony had whispered to me. “People don’t forget when they’re laughed at.”

The rest of us thought it was just another night of Stark burning bridges. But it was the start of something worse.

Then it cut, like waking up from a dream, to the present.

The Mandarin’s broadcasts filled every channel. Explosions in the Middle East. Threats aimed at America. Tony’s cocky grin on TV, giving out his home address like he was untouchable.

When Fury called us in, I half expected Tony to slam the door in our faces. Instead, we found him in his workshop, eyes ringed with exhaustion, armor stripped into pieces around him like a dissected beast. JARVIS’ voice was calm, clinical, but Tony was anything but.

“Breaker (Steve),” he said when he saw me, waving a wrench like it was a sword. “And the Strays. Of course, Fury sent you. The babysitters’ babysitters.”

Two-Bit laughed, but it was brittle.

“Relax, Stark,” Two-Bit said. “We just came for the party.”

But there was no party. Just a man fraying at the edges.

Soda tried to lighten it with a grin, pulling Naomi into his side.

“You look like you’ve been awake since ‘99,” Soda teased.

“Close enough,” Tony muttered. He glanced at our love interests, then at us, piecing it together. “Guess I’m not the only one dragging civilians into the fire anymore.”

Clara squeezed Pony’s hand, steadying him as waves of Tony’s anxiety pulsed through the room. Avery lingered near Johnny, calm and unshaken even in the chaos of the workshop. Marina leaned against the wall, arms crossed, already sizing Stark up like a fighter who thought he could win on attitude alone. Evelyn traded a look with Darry, both doctors carrying a weight neither could drop. Harper flicked a coin in the air, smirking like she already knew the punchline. And Talia? She eyed Tony’s armor scraps, her mind racing with mechanical puzzles even while mine churned with worry.

We’d all built lives in the shadow of New York. And now, one year later, here we were, called back into Tony’s storm just as it broke wide open.

And somehow, I knew this was only the beginning.

Soon enough, we were being dragged with Tony to meet Rhodey at a bar. It wasn’t really something I wanted to do. But here we are.

The bar was dim, loud, and smelled of beer and fried food. A TV bolted up in the corner ran yet another Mandarin broadcast, all threats and riddles spliced with explosions. Every time his voice came through, the whole place went a little quieter. Folks stared up with that mix of fear and disbelief, the same look we’d seen in New York before the sky opened.

Tony slid into the booth across from Rhodey, like he owned the place, and we followed in his wake. The Strays were used to people staring by now, but being with Stark just turned heads faster.

“Colonel,” Tony said with that smirk he wore like armor, “looking sharp in your rebranded pajamas.”

Rhodey shot him a glare.

“It’s not pajamas,” Rhodey snapped. “It’s the Iron Patriot. Rebranded for America. You should try patriotism sometime.”

Two-Bit snorted, already leaning back in the booth.

“Iron Patriot, huh?” Two-Bit teased. “Sounds like somethin’ a toy company cooked up.”

Rhodey gave him a flat look, but Soda grinned, tapping the menu.

“Don’t worry, man,” Soda teased. “You’re still cooler than Captain Crunch.”

That cracked Johnny up, though he quickly ducked his head when Rhodey raised an eyebrow.

Darry cleared his throat, always the one to reel us in when things edged too far.

“What’s the situation with these bombings?” Darry asked, voice low, steady.

Rhodey rubbed his temples.

“That’s the problem,” Rhodey said with a sigh. “We don’t have answers. People dead. Buildings destroyed. No bomb fragments, no signatures we can trace. Just chaos. And the Mandarin claiming credit.”

Pony shifted in his seat, and I could feel him pulling in the fear bleeding through the bar around us.

Pony stared at the TV, then muttered, “They’re terrified. That’s what he wants.” Clara, sitting beside him, squeezed his hand, grounding him before the emotions overwhelmed him.

Tony waved it off with a scoff, but I could see the twitch in his jaw, the way his eyes darted back to the broadcast even while he played casual.

“Please,” Tony said, irritated. “We’ve dealt with gods, aliens, and giant green rage monsters. Some cheap knockoff terrorist with a bad haircut? Not impressed.”
Rhodey leaned in.

“It’s not a joke, Stark,” Rhodey growled. “People are scared. And Washington wants results. They want Iron Patriot as the face of security.”

Dallas finally spoke, leaning forward, his tone sharp.
“So you’re telling me folks are gettin’ blown to pieces, and you’re stuck playin’ mascot?” Dally asked, annoyed.

That hit. Rhodey bristled, but he didn’t deny it.

The air between him and Tony thickened. And for once, Tony dropped the smirk.

“You know me, Rhodey,” Tony said. “I don’t just sit back when someone thinks they can scare people like this. Mandarin wants attention? He’s got mine.”

Two-Bit raised his glass like a toast.

“Here’s hopin’ your plan doesn’t involve givin’ out your address again,” Two-Bit said with a smirk.
Even Tony cracked a smile at that.

But as we sat there, the TV flickering the Mandarin’s face again, I had the sinking feeling Darry had back in ’99: this was gonna come back around, harder than any of us expected.

The Mandarin broadcast cut to a commercial, the screen switching to a car ad that no one in the bar was actually watching. The noise of the crowd swelled back, chatter rising, plates clinking. But it only took one voice to slice right through it.

“Hey, Mister Stark?”

A kid, who couldn’t have been older than ten, walked up clutching a cheap Iron Man action figure. His wide eyes were locked on Tony like he was the only person in the room. “How’d you get outta the wormhole? In New York?”

The whole booth went still. Even Rhodey, tough as nails, glanced sideways like he wanted to shut it down fast.

Tony froze. The smirk he’d been using as a shield flickered out. His hand twitched on the table, knuckles whitening.

“Kid…” Rhodey started, but Tony was already pushing back his chair. The scrape of the legs against the floor was loud, sharp.

I stood too, instinct kicking in, but Darry’s hand touched my shoulder. His silent look said Let him have space.

Tony staggered toward the door, shoulders too tight, breathing shallow. I knew that look, I’d seen combat vets crack under the weight of flashbacks, the past clawing up their throats.

Outside, the desert air was cool, but it didn’t calm him. He yanked his phone, barking, “Suit. Now.”

A second later, the Mark XLII clattered down in pieces, snapping onto his frame one limb at a time until he was sealed in red and gold. And still, his chest heaved like he couldn’t get enough oxygen.
“JARVIS,” Tony gasped. “Diagnostics. Now. Am I…what’s happening to me?”

Inside the helmet, I heard the AI’s calm, crisp reply.

“Sir, you are experiencing a severe anxiety attack,” JARVIS said robotically.

Tony leaned against the wall, armored fingers flexing uselessly.

“I’m not…no, no, that’s not what this is,” Tony said in denial.

Back in the doorway, the Strays watched. Pony flinched like he’d been hit, his eyes squeezing shut. I knew what it meant; he was feeling Tony’s panic, the tight spiral of fear twisting out of him. Clara grabbed his wrist, grounding him just like she always did, whispering something that steadied his breathing.

Johnny stepped forward, ash curling around his shoulders like a restless shadow, but he didn’t release it.

“He’s burnin’ himself out,” Johnny murmured.

Soda was the one who moved, quick as ever, planting himself just close enough for Tony to see someone familiar.

“Tony,” Soda said, his voice soft but edged with that strange hypnotic calm his gift carried. “It’s alright, man. You’re not back there. You’re here.”

For a moment, it worked; Tony’s breathing slowed a fraction, enough for JARVIS to continue.

“Your vitals are within survivable limits, sir,” JARVIS said robotically. “This is not cardiac. This is psychological.

Tony slammed a gauntlet against the wall, leaving a dent.
“Don’t tell me what it is!” Tony shouted angrily.
“Guy doesn’t need a suit, he needs a damn straightjacket,” Dally muttered. I caught the worry in his eyes. Marina nudged his side, reminding him to shut up.

I didn’t push. Not yet. Everyone in this gang knew what it meant to carry ghosts; you didn’t wrestle them out of someone, you stood by until they found their footing.

Finally, Tony slumped against the wall, the glow of the arc reactor flickering faintly in the dark. His breathing leveled out, slow and ragged.

Two-Bit broke the silence, arms crossed, grin tilted.

“Well, at least we know Iron Man can survive his own panic attacks,” Two-Bit teased. “That’s reassuring.”

Tony turned his helmet just enough to glare at him. And for the first time in ten minutes, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.

Chapter Text

Chapter 48

Dally’s POV

After Tony calmed down, we followed him back to his house, where Pepper was waiting.

Tony’s place looked like a glass palace clinging to the edge of the world, all ocean on one side and steel toys on the other. Didn’t matter how many times I saw it, it always made me feel like some stray mutt sneakin’ into a king’s den.

We trailed in behind him, the hum of his armor filling the hall. He didn’t even bother taking the suit off. Just stomped straight through his own damn house like he was welded to it.

Pepper was there, red hair down, business face on. She’d just seen Aldrich Killian, and the way her voice sharpened when she said his name, you could tell she wasn’t too thrilled.

“Tony,” Pepper said, tight, “do you know who I just dealt with tonight?”

Tony’s mask stayed on, voice filtered, tinny.

“Killian,” Tony grumbled. “Yeah, tall guy, new haircut, bad breath.” He waved a metal hand like none of it mattered. “You didn’t sign anything, right? Because if you did, we’re gonna need a lawyer.”

Pepper’s hands went to her hips.

“This isn’t a joke,” Pepper said. “He’s dangerous.”

I leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. Dangerous. Lady, you didn’t know the half of it, me and my crew, and had smelled that stink on Killian the second he walked into the Stark Expo years ago.

Pony shifted uncomfortably, probably picking up on Pepper’s emotions, the storm of worry and frustration rolling off her. He gave her a soft look, like he wanted to calm her down but knew better than to step in between Stark and Pepper when they were sparring.

Darry stood with that big brother stance of his, arms folded, waiting for someone to cross a line so he could play referee. Steve was already eyeing the armor pieces scattered across the living room, gears practically humming in his head.

Me? I just wanted a cigarette and a drink, but I stayed quiet. Suit of iron or not, Stark had that hollow edge tonight, the kind you only get when you’re holdin’ yourself together with duct tape and stubborn pride.

Pepper stepped closer, lowering her voice.

“You’re not even here, Tony,” Pepper said with a sigh. “You’re… hiding in that suit.”

The line cut through the air sharper than any blade.

Even through the mask, you could feel Stark flinch. Just for a second, but it was there.

Soda, shifted next to me, the usual grin dimmed.

“She’s right, man,” Soda muttered.

Stark ignored him. He just turned toward the window, metal shoulders heavy.

“I’m working, Pepper,” Tony sighed. “That’s all this is. Just… working.”

Pepper shook her head, hurt flashing across her face, before she stormed off down the hall.

For a second, the whole place went quiet except for the faint whir of servos in Stark’s armor.

Reckless, I thought. That’s me, that’s him. Guys like us, we push people away before they can walk out on their own.

I exhaled slowly, the weight of the night pressing in.

“Stark,” I said finally, voice low, “armor doesn’t keep you safe from the folks who give a damn. Remember that.”

He didn’t answer. Just stood there, looking out at the ocean, trapped in his own damn cage of iron.

And the Strays? We just waited, all of us, because we’d been there before, when your demons got louder than your heartbeat.

We were relaxing and then finally went to bed.

That’s when all of our phones started buzzing.

The call came fast, an explosion at Grauman’s Chinese Theater. We were in Stark’s car before he even finished barking orders at JARVIS, the whole crew packed in with that sick feeling twisting deep in my gut.

Happy had been there. Pepper’s right-hand guy, Stark’s shadow, the one who always looked out for us strays like we belonged in the fold.

By the time we got there, smoke was still curling into the night sky, thick and black, lit up by red and blue lights from a swarm of emergency vehicles. Sirens wailed, the street blocked off with rubble and scorched stone from the blast.

We pushed through the crowd, Atlas (Darry) in front, his size making people part like the Red Sea. My heart hammered, every instinct screaming this wasn’t just some random accident.
And then I saw him.

Happy, laid out on a stretcher, his face pale, chest barely moving. The EMTs were shouting vitals, hands pressing against him as they loaded him up. Pepper was there, voice breaking, clingin’ to the side of the gurney before they shoved it into the ambulance.

“Happy,” Tony’s voice cracked, suitless for once, raw and human. His hands clenched into fists. “Stay with us, Happy. You don’t get to check out now.”

I felt that anger burnin’ off him like heatwaves. Mindlight (Pony) flinched beside me, his power sparking out just enough that I caught a glimpse of what Tony was feeling: rage, guilt, and desperation. It burned, worse than fire.

Pulse (Soda) laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, tryin’ to calm him with that weird, easy charm of his. Didn’t work. Not tonight.

The ambulance doors slammed shut, and for a moment, all you could hear was the hiss of smoke and Stark’s ragged breath.

The next day, we were at the scene, what was left of it. SHIELD had roped it off, but Stark didn’t wait for permission. Neither did we.

Breaker (Steve) crouched near the blast site, grease-stained gloves on as he traced a hand over warped metal. His power hummed, gears and screws twisting under his touch as he replayed the moment of impact in his head.

“This wasn’t a bomb,” Breaker (Steve) muttered. “At least, not a normal one. Energy radiated outward. Too clean.”

Ash (Johnny) stepped forward, ash itself curling around his fingers like it was alive. He knelt by a scorch mark that still pulsed faintly, like the ground hadn’t cooled yet.

“Not fire, either,” Ash (Johnny) said softly. “Something else. Something hotter. Controlled.”

Atlas (Darry) picked up a chunk of debris with one hand, examining it like it was paper. His jaw tightened.

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t random,” Atlas (Darry) said darkly. “Somebody wanted this spectacle.”

Stark crouched down, eyes narrowing at a cratered mark in the ground. He didn’t even bother to hide the shake in his hands.

“Happy was right in the middle of this,” Stark said angrily. “I’m not letting it slide.”

Rhodey, War Machine, but to us, he was just Rhodey, joined us, face grim in uniform.

“This isn’t just terrorism,” Rhodey said. “I’ve been chasing leads for months, and all roads point to this Mandarin character. But something about this blast… it’s different.”

Mindlight (Pony) touched the ground, his powers sparking again. His face went pale, eyes wide.

“It felt like a person,” Mindlight (Pony) murmured. “Not a weapon. Not tech. Just raw power let loose.”

That got all of us to shut up.

Pulse (Soda) gave a low whistle.

“So we’re talkin’ walking bombs now?” Pulse (Soda) asked. “Great. Real fun.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) piped up, tossing a coin in the air with that sly grin of his.

“Well, hey, maybe we’ll get lucky,” Jokester (Two-Bit) tried to joke. “Maybe the next one won’t go off until after Stark’s got his coffee.

We left the scene with the image burned into our heads, cratered stone, scorch marks still hot, and Happy lying broken in a hospital bed.

Stark didn’t say much as we walked away, but I caught the edge of his voice as he muttered under his breath.

“They’re gonna pay for this,” Stark grumbled.

And I believed him.

Because of the look in his eyes? It wasn’t just vengeance. It was personal. And guys like me know how far you’ll go when it’s personal.

We were holed up in Stark’s place after the theater mess, all of us wired, pacing, waitin’ for word on Happy. The TV was runnin’ nonstop, Mandarin’s smug face plastered on every damn channel, spitting out his threats like a preacher in hell.

And then Stark snapped.
“I’m done.” Stark’s voice cut sharply through the room. He didn’t sound like Tony Stark, genius-billionaire-playboy-whatever. He sounded like a guy with nothing left to lose.

We all turned as he stormed into the living room, eyes red-rimmed, jaw set like concrete. A reporter shoved a mic at him, and Stark didn’t even hesitate.

“My name’s Tony Stark,” Stark said, voice steady but crackling with fury, “and I’m not afraid of you. The Mandarin? Here’s my home address. I’ll leave the door unlocked. You want to mess with my friends? You want to put my guy Happy in a coma? Then come and get me.”

The room went dead quiet.

Darry stepped forward, face dark.

“Tony…” Darry warned.

But Stark cut him off, pointing a finger like a knife.

“No,” Stark spat. “I don’t want to hear it. This bastard thinks he can terrorize my city, hurt my people, and I’m supposed to sit back? No. Not this time.”

Soda let out a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Man just dropped his address on national TV,” Soda said sheepishly. He glanced at me. “You think he realizes what he just did?”

“Course he does,” I muttered. “That’s the problem.”

Steve leaned against the wall, fists clenching and unclenching.

“He’s spiralin’,” Steve grumbled. “That’s not strategy, that’s emotion. We’re supposed to be the muscle, not the clean-up crew for his ego.”

Two-Bit tossed a coin in the air, caught it, and shook his head.

“Guess we better start stockin’ up on popcorn, ‘cause the fireworks are gonna come right to us,” Two-Bit tried to joke.

Pony hadn’t said a word, but I felt him before I saw him, his powers sparking, the edges of his glow flickerin’ like a busted lightbulb. He was drowning in Stark’s emotions, all the rage, guilt, and grief crashing down like a tidal wave. His face twisted.
“He’s not thinking straight,” Pony whispered. “He just wants Mandarin to hurt him, not anyone else. He’d take the bullet if it meant ending this.”

That hit me in the gut. I knew that look. Knew that I needed to take the hit, to stand in front of it all, even if it kills you.

Stark dropped the mic, turned on his heel, and walked away like he hadn’t just painted a target the size of New York on his house.

We just stood there, the seven of us, each one thinkin’ the same thing: When Mandarin came, and he would, it wasn’t gonna just be Tony Stark’s fight.

It was gonna be ours, too.

I’d seen guys beg for fights they weren’t ready for, seen ‘em mouth off to the wrong man in an alley. Nine times outta ten, the other guy doesn’t wait long to swing.

Mandarin wasn’t gonna wait either.

It hit fast, quicker than any of us could’ve blinked.

The first rocket screamed through the night, smashing glass and ripping the ocean air with fire. The mansion shook, alarms shriekin’, Jarvis’s voice cuttin’ in over the chaos.

“Sir, incoming, multiple hostiles,” JARVIS said robotically.

The second blast tore through the side of the house. Concrete and steel split like cardboard. Pepper screamed somewhere behind us, and Stark went rigid in the suit.

“Everyone MOVE!” Atlas (Darry) bellowed, shoving a falling beam back with one hand like it was driftwood.

The ceiling started comin’ down. My skin buzzed, muscles sparkin’ with energy. Every shockwave from those rockets, every blast I soaked up, made my chest burn hotter. I gritted my teeth, letting the power pour into me.

Pulse (Soda) blurred past, scooping Pepper and dragging her toward the stairs, his ash trailing like a ghostly cloak to keep falling rubble off her. Jokester (Two-Bit) threw his arm around Harper, hell, she’d just dropped by again like she had a sixth sense for chaos, and with a grin, the floor buckled under them, but luck tilted the chunk of concrete just right. They skidded out of the hole, laughing like maniacs even with the world comin’ down.

Mindlight’s (Pony) glow flared in the dust and fire, throwing up a light-shield around Breaker (Steve) and Talia as metal beams fell. The kid was sweating, jaw tight, emotions he was catchin’ off Stark enough to fry him alive if he didn’t control it.

“Ash (Johnny), cover left!” Atlas roared.

Ash (Johnny) lit up like the damn church fire all over again, ash whirling into a smokescreen as the third chopper bore down, cannons firing. His flames licked across the missiles midair, turning them into bursts of harmless sparks before they could touch down.

But it wasn’t enough.

The mansion split open, the Pacific roaring through the jagged hole as debris sank into the waves. Stark fired a repulsor and sent a rocket back up the chopper’s nose.

“Get them OUT!” Stark shouted. “Everyone OUT!”

And then the floor tilted. The whole house groaned, slid, and started to collapse into the ocean.

I braced myself, caught a support column on my shoulder, and snarled through the pain as the kinetic surge fed into me like lightning. The impact nearly knocked me flat, but it just made me stronger.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” I shouted, shoving the column up so the others had space to slip through.

Pulse (Soda) darted back and grabbed my arm.

“You staying or coming, Reckless (Dally)?” Pulse (Soda) asked.

“I ain’t dyin’ in this rich-boy dollhouse!” I spat, but the truth was, I wasn’t leaving till the last of us was clear.

And then the whole damn world tipped sideways as the Malibu mansion, the legend, the icon, Stark’s pride, crumbled into the sea.

Chapter Text

Chapter 49

Johnny’s POV

The ocean swallowed the house like it’d been waiting for the chance. One second, we were standing in Stark’s glass palace; the next, it was gone, chewed up by fire, rockets, and Pacific waves.

I hit the water hard, ash exploding off me in a cloud that kept me from sinking. Salt stung my eyes, my lungs burned, but I forced myself up through the spray.

“Tony!” Pepper’s scream cut through the roar.

I caught sight of him just long enough, the Mark 42, sparking, busted in half, dragging Stark’s limp body out across the sky. It wasn’t flying so much as stumbling forward on autopilot. Pepper clawed toward the shore, screaming his name until her voice broke.

Then he was gone.

Vanished into the night sky like a shooting star nobody asked for.

For a second, the only sound was Pepper sobbing, waves hammering against the wreckage. And the silence inside my chest.

“Where is he?” Darry’s voice bellowed behind me. Darry was hauling a slab of concrete off Two-Bit with one arm, his face set like stone. “WHERE IS HE?”

“Suit took him,” I rasped, dragging myself onto the busted deck, ash dripping from my hands like blood. “Jarvis or somethin’… it flew him outta here.”

Soda blurred onto the scene, Pepper in his arms before she could hit the ground. Her face was streaked with tears, but Soda’s voice was steady, soft.

“He’s alive, Pep,” Soda said reassuringly. “He’s gotta be. Jarvis wouldn’t let him go otherwise.” His hypnotic calm wrapped around her like a blanket, but it couldn’t touch the panic in her eyes.

Pony stumbled up behind us, light flickering around him like he couldn’t keep the shield steady anymore. His eyes were wild, too bright.

“He’s scared,” Pony whispered. “Terrified. It’s pouring out of him. But he’s… he’s still fighting.”

Steve limped out of the wreck, half-burned cuts on his arms from twisted steel. His voice was sharp.

“That suit can’t hold him long,” Steve said. “It was barely field-ready. He could crash anywhere.”

Dally spat a curse, blood trickling down his face but fists clenched like he could punch the ocean itself.

“Then we find him before the bastards do,” Dally grumbled. “You hear me? We find him.”

But Pepper shook her head, tears spilling.

“He’ll die out there,” Pepper whimpered. “He’ll die and I won’t even…” Her voice cracked.

Ash swirled around me, curling protective as I stepped closer. My chest felt hollow, but I forced the words out anyway.

“No,” I murmured. “He ain’t dead. Not Tony Stark. That stubborn son of a bitch don’t go out easy.”

Pepper looked at me, desperate, and I held her gaze until she nodded once, shaky but real.

The Pacific claimed the last of the mansion, dragging it under. Smoke and fire still curled into the night, the only proof Stark had ever lived here.

And above us, somewhere in the dark sky, Tony was flying blind, half-dead, and alone.

We were scattered, beat to hell, but one thing was certain.

This wasn’t over. Not for him. Not for us.

The Mark 42 burned across the night sky like a broken comet. From the shore, I could still feel Tony’s fear bleeding out of him through Pony’s tense expression, even as the suit dragged him farther and farther away.

Then, static. Radio silence.

Miles away, over Tennessee, Tony Stark came falling out of the heavens. The half-dead armor tumbled through clouds, smacking into snow and dirt with the weight of a meteor. Jarvis’ voice was fading, the suit sparking, freezing over, dragging Stark into unconsciousness. He was alive, but just barely.

We didn’t know that yet. All we had was smoke, Pepper’s panicked sobs, and the ocean swallowing up Malibu behind us.
Atlas (Darry) was already barking orders, his voice like steel through the chaos.

“Pulse (Soda), get Pepper somewhere safe,” Atlas (Darry) ordered. “Breaker (Steve), you’re with me. Reckless (Dally), keep your head on a swivel.”

But Mindlight (Pony) cut him off, clutching his temples.

“Wait,” Mindlight (Pony) murmured. “He’s… far. Cold. He’s not gone, but… I can’t see where.” His voice cracked, frustration pouring off him like sparks.

That’s when Jokester (Two-Bit), still dripping wet and coughing, raised a finger with that crooked grin.

“Lucky for us, I’ve been smarter than Stark since ’08,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said with a smirk. “Told Jarvis to sneak me a back door on his toys, tracker system. You know… in case he got himself drunk in Monaco and left a suit in a fountain or something.”

Atlas (Darry) turned on him, half a glare, half disbelief. “You what?”

“Relax, Atlas (Darry),” Jokester (Two-Bit) smirked, hacking water out of his lungs. “Insurance policy. And looks like it’s payday.”

Breaker’s (Steve) hands flexed unconsciously, gears from a busted Stark drone twitching at his feet.

“You mean you can actually pull his location?” Breaker (Steve) asked skeptically. “Even now?”

“Even now,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, tugging a battered Stark tablet from his soaked jacket. The screen sputtered to life, waterlogged but still working, somehow. Luck bent around him like always. He jabbed the keys, and a blinking red dot popped up on the map. “Bingo. Stark Express crash-landed in Tennessee.”

Pulse (Soda) let out a low whistle, his usual grin dulled but still there.

“Tennessee, huh?” Pulse (Soda) quipped. “Guess Malibu didn’t have the hospitality he wanted.”

Reckless (Dally) just cracked his knuckles, blood still drying on his temple.

“Then we go,” Reckless (Dally) grumbled. “We find him before anyone else does. No excuses.”

Mindlight’s (Pony) eyes were brighter again, hope sparking in his voice.

“I can feel him… yeah,” Mindlight (Pony) murmured. “That’s it. He’s weak, but he’s holding on.”

Pepper, pale and shaking in Pulse’s (Soda) arms, finally looked up. Her voice was raw.

“Then go,” Pepper pleaded. “Please. Find him. Don’t let him fight this alone.”

I wrapped ash tighter around myself against the night air, but I couldn’t hide the fire gnawing in my gut. Tony Stark wasn’t just some rich genius anymore. He was our friend. Our screw-up teammate. And no way in hell were we leaving him broken in the snow.

“Tracker’s got the trail,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, tucking the tablet under his arm. “So what do you say, boys? Road trip?”

Atlas’s (Darry) jaw set like stone.

“We move,” Atlas (Darry) deadpanned. “Now.”

And just like that, the Strays were back in the game.

Somewhere in Tennessee, Stark was waking up alone, surrounded by snow and silence. He didn’t know it yet, but he wasn’t gonna be alone for long.

The cold bit harder the farther we pushed east. Snow swallowed the road, silence gnawed at us, and even Pulse’s usual chatter was dead quiet. All we had was Jokester’s (Two-Bit) tracker blinking red on the tablet like a heartbeat.

By the time we rolled into Rose Hill, Tennessee, the Mark 42 had already gone down.

We found Stark half-buried in snow outside a garage that looked like it hadn’t seen a tune-up in thirty years. Breaker (Steve) helped pull the suit off him, gears whining under his command, and Stark gasped awake like a man drowned and dragged back.

“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, smirking through chattering teeth. “You missed your flight.”

“Jarvis…” Tony croaked, coughing hard. His eyes darted past us, searching. “Where’s…? Pepper…”

“She’s safe,” Atlas (Darry) cut in firmly, kneeling beside him. “Pulse (Soda) got her out before the place went under. Focus, Stark. You’re alive. We found you.”

Relief flickered in his eyes, but it didn’t last. He slumped back against the snow, armor sparking.

“Great,” Tony muttered. “Middle of nowhere. No suits. Half a power source. And it’s freezing. Perfect plan.”

That’s when a voice called out. High, curious.

“You Iron Man?” The voice asked.

We all turned to see this scrawny kid standing a few feet away in a knit cap and too-big gloves, eyes wide as saucers. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting, if Rockwell ever painted kids with backpacks full of duct tape and slingshots.

Tony squinted at him.

“No,” Tony grumbled. “You’re hallucinating. Go back inside before the government black vans show up.”

The kid didn’t budge. He glanced at the busted Mark 42 sprawled in the snow, then at Stark.

“Yeah, you’re Iron Man,” the kid said. “Or you were. Now you look like crap.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) nearly doubled over laughing.

“Kid’s got bite,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said with a smirk. “I like him.”

The kid shrugged, then pointed toward a small house down the road.

“You can freeze out here, or you can come to my shed,” the kid said. “It’s got heat. Sort of. Name’s Harley.”

Atlas (Darry) gave Stark a look.

“You gonna argue, or you gonna let the kid save your ass?” Atlas (Darry) asked.

Minutes later, we were crammed into Harley’s makeshift workshop. It smelled like oil and pine, but it was warm, and Stark didn’t argue when Breaker (Steve) hauled the Mark 42 onto a workbench. The armor hissed and steamed like a wounded beast.

Harley handed Tony a wrench with a grin.

“You’re bleeding all over my floor,” Harley said. “The least you can do is fix your robot suit while you’re at it.”

“It’s not a robot suit,” Tony muttered. “It’s a… forget it.” But he took the wrench anyway.

I leaned against the wall, letting the ash cloak slip around me like a blanket. Watching Tony banter with this kid, something softened in his eyes. Not the cocky playboy, not the genius spitting fire at cameras. Just a tired man who, for the first time since Malibu, wasn’t alone.

Pulse (Soda) crouched by Harley, flashing that easy grin.

“So, Harley, what’s the deal with all this gear?” Soda asked charmingly. “You building your own Iron Man suit?”

Harley’s face lit up.

“Not yet,” Harley said. “But I know how to rig potato guns, and I got blueprints for a taser glove.”

Jokester (Two-Bit) gasped like he’d just met his long-lost twin.

“Marry me, kid,” Jokester (Two-Bit) teased.

Atlas (Darry) just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“God help us,” Atlas (Darry) groaned. “There’s two of them now.”

Mindlight (Pony) stayed quiet, his gaze flicking between Stark and Harley. I caught the edge of what he was feeling: relief, hope, and something deeper. Stark wasn’t out of the fight yet. And maybe, just maybe, this kid was the spark he needed to keep going.

I tugged my ash tighter and thought, Guess Tennessee ain’t so bad after all.

The workshop was cluttered, messy, and somehow perfect for Stark. Half-busted fans leaned against shelves stacked with wires, car batteries, and empty soda cans. Harley perched on a stool, chin in his hands, watching Stark like a hawk as he cracked open the chest plate of the Mark 42. Sparks flew.

“Careful,” Breaker (Steve) muttered, nudging a loose wire into place with a flick of his fingers. “That core’s holding together with spit and prayers.”

“Don’t tell me my job, grease monkey,” Stark shot back, sweat running down his temple. “I built this in a cave, with a box of scraps, remember?”

Jokester (Two-Bit) piped up from across the room, twirling a screwdriver between his fingers like it was a knife trick.

“Yeah, and then it blew up, caught on fire, or got shot out of the sky,” Jokester (Two-Bit) teased. “Not exactly selling the success rate.”

Stark pointed the screwdriver he was holding at him.

“You, shut up,” Stark grumbled.

Harley giggled, and for once, Stark didn’t look annoyed. Just tired.

I stayed in the shadows, ash drifting off my shoulders in curls. The hum of the armor, the scrape of tools, it was almost peaceful. Until Stark froze mid-sentence.

His breath hitched. His hands shook. The screwdriver clattered to the floor.

“Tony?” Atlas (Darry) asked, instantly alert.

Stark’s chest heaved. He staggered back from the armor, one hand clawing at the wall like the air itself had turned against him. His eyes went glassy, far away. “

Can’t… can’t breathe…” Tony spluttered.

Pulse (Soda) moved in a blur, steadying him before he hit the floor.

“Hey, hey, look at me, Tony,” Pulse (Soda) said charmingly. “Focus. You’re okay.”

“Jarvis, what’s happening to me?” Stark gasped, his voice shaking.

The AI’s voice buzzed faintly from the battered helmet on the table.

“Sir, you’re experiencing a severe anxiety attack,” JARVIS said robotically.

Mindlight (Pony) pressed a hand to his temple, his eyes glowing faintly as he stepped forward.

“He’s reliving New York.” His voice trembled, but it was steady enough. “The portal. The fall. It’s flooding him all at once.”

“Snap him out of it,” Reckless barked, fists clenched.

“No,” Mindlight (Pony) said firmly, crouching in front of Stark. “He has to come back on his own. He’s not broken, he’s scared.”

Atlas’s (Darry) hand landed heavily on Stark’s shoulder, grounding him like an anchor.

“Breathe,” Atlas (Darry) said gently. “One second at a time, Stark. In. Out. You carried a nuke into space. You can carry this, too.”

The room was quiet but for the sound of Tony’s ragged breaths. Then, slowly, his chest began to even out. Pulse’s (Soda) grip loosened, Mindlight (Pony) leaned back, and Stark’s eyes finally cleared.
He swore under his breath and shoved himself upright.

“I’m fine,” Tony insisted. “Just… altitude sickness. Or maybe you’re all just stressing me out.”

“Yeah, blame us,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, but his grin was softer than usual.

Harley slid off his stool and offered Stark a rag like it was a medal.

“You’re Iron Man,” Harley said. “You’re supposed to be able to fix stuff, right? So… fix this.”

Tony blinked down at him.

“What if I can’t?” Tony asked.

“Then you’re still a mechanic,” Harley said with all the certainty of a kid who believed heroes couldn’t die. “And a mechanic builds.”

Something shifted in Stark’s face. The panic didn’t vanish, but it dulled, replaced by a flicker of the old fire. He picked up the screwdriver again, rolled his shoulders, and bent back over the suit.
And this time, his hands didn’t shake.

Watching him, I thought maybe Harley was right. Sometimes all you needed was to be reminded of what you could still build.

Chapter Text

Chapter 50

Pony’s POV

Soon we all went to a local diner to grab something to eat. We were all starving.

The diner smelled like grease and burnt coffee, the kind of place that had been stuck in time since the seventies. Harley led the way inside, shrugging like it was nothing to march a billionaire genius, a gang of greasers with powers, and a busted Iron Man into his hometown hangout. People stared, but they didn’t say a word, probably figuring we were some traveling circus act.

Tony slid into a booth with that worn-out bravado of his, JARVIS still crackling softly from the fried circuits of the Mark 42. Johnny sat across from him, cloak of embers flickering faintly at his shoulders. I took the seat by Harley because the kid was jittery, and my empathy was already picking it up like static off a radio. He wanted Tony to be invincible, like the man in the suit from TV. But underneath that, I felt something else: a hollow ache that reminded me too much of myself after Mom and Dad died.

Darry stood by the door, arms folded like he was keeping the whole room in line just by existing. Soda leaned against the jukebox, flashing that smile of his at the waitress, who immediately forgot how to scowl. Two-Bit was flipping creamers into Harley’s empty glass like it was the most important mission of the day. Steve sat quietly, fingers twitching, pulling the silverware into neat little stacks without touching them. Dally was pacing like a caged tiger, the energy of the Malibu attack still coiled tight under his skin.

Tony stirred his coffee absently, eyes far away, until Harley piped up.

“You ever lose anybody?” the kid asked. His voice cracked just a little.

The question punched Tony right in the gut, and I felt his heart spike with fear, grief, and guilt, all tangled. The Chitauri. New York. The portal. He masked it with a smirk, but I could feel how much it cost him.

“Kid,” Tony said, voice dry, “everybody loses somebody.”

Harley nodded, fiddling with a sugar packet.

“My dad… he went out for scratchers one Christmas,” Harley said. “Never came back.” His emotions flooded through me, anger he didn’t want to admit, loneliness he tried to laugh off. I wanted to shield him, but I forced myself not to. Harley deserved someone who listened, not someone who caged his feelings.

“You think he’s coming back?” Tony asked softly.

Harley shrugged.

“Course not,” Harley said. “But sometimes I like to pretend.”

I let a flicker of light shimmer between my hands, just for Harley to see, a tiny glowing ship made of memory and imagination. His eyes widened.

“That’s so cool,” Harley whispered, hope threading through his sadness.

Tony caught it too. He gave me a look, part thanks, part warning, don’t carry too much. I dipped my head. I knew.

“Alright, kid,” Tony said, pulling himself back up into his old armor of wit. “You’re a mechanic, right? You tinker, you build? Well, I’m a mechanic too. And when things break, you don’t pray they fix themselves. You build something new.”

Harley blinked, chewing on that. He looked at Tony like he’d just been handed a blueprint for surviving life.

Across the booth, Johnny’s flame dimmed into a soft glow. Darry’s jaw unclenched. Soda gave Harley a wink, which the kid returned with a grin. For the first time since Malibu, the Strays felt steady again.
But deep inside, I knew this was only the eye of the storm. The Mandarin was out there, and every road we walked was only going to get darker.

It might’ve ended there, quiet coffee, quiet truths, if the diner didn’t have one guy too many with a long memory.

We were paying the check when I felt it: sharp and jagged, like glass under my skin. Suspicion. Recognition. The kind of thrill that comes from spotting prey. My eyes flicked toward the counter, and sure enough, a man in a camo jacket was staring straight at Tony.

“That’s him,” he muttered, pushing up from his stool. “That’s Iron Man.”

The whole diner went still. Half the folks leaned forward in awe, the other half stiffened like they weren’t sure if having Stark in their small-town joint was good news or bad.

Tony’s jaw set.

“Yep, that’s me,” Tony grumbled. “World’s most wanted mechanic, here for the pancakes.”

The camo guy sneered.

“While our soldiers are dying overseas, you’re playing hero in New York, leaving the rest of us to clean up,” The camo guy spat.

The emotions hit me like a wave—resentment, anger, a splash of jealousy. I flinched, and Atlas (Darry) stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a wall.

“That’s enough,” Atlas (Darry) said, his voice steady steel.

But the man wasn’t listening. He shoved Tony, hard enough that the whole booth rattled. That was all it took. Chairs screeched, fists clenched. A brawl was brewing.

Jokester (Two-Bit) grinned, sliding his sleeves up like he’d been waiting all day for this.

“Oh, boy,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said giddily. “Dinner and a show.”

The first punch flew, and chaos lit up the room.

Pusle (Soda) blurred through the scuffle, moving faster than anyone could register, plucking glass bottles out of hands before they could break, his charm bleeding out to cool the worst tempers. Still, fists connected. A chair smashed. Someone went for Tony again, bad move.

Reckless (Dally) stepped right into the blow, letting it land full force. He grinned as the energy crackled into him, his skin glowing faintly.

“That all you got?” Reckless (Dally) snarled before tossing the guy across two tables.

Ash (Johnny) flared, smoke rolling from his shoulders. He didn’t torch the place, but the haze he spun up had half the fighters coughing and backing away. Breaker (Steve) made the jukebox blare at full volume, every gear in the diner trembling under his twitching fingers.

I drew in a breath, pushing light between the cracks of fear and rage. A shimmer rippled out from me, illusions of brightness, dazzling enough to trip up a few punches. Emotions bent and shifted; some of the men suddenly didn’t know why they were so mad in the first place.

Atlas (Darry), unshaken, caught two brawlers by the scruff and hauled them apart like misbehaving kids.

“Sit down,” Atlas (Darry) barked. They did.

By the time the sheriff poked his head in, the fight was already dying, the Strays standing guard around Tony like a mismatched honor guard. Harley was wide-eyed, still clutching his half-eaten fries.

The sheriff looked around and sighed.

“Just another Friday night,” The sheriff muttered. Then left.

Tony adjusted his jacket, brushing off a scuff like the whole thing was an inconvenience.

“Well,” Tony said dryly, “that was subtle.”

Two-Bit smirked, tossing a sugar packet up and catching it.

“Hey, we blended in,” Two-Bit joked. “Real low profile.”

Tony gave him a look that could’ve melted steel. I hid a grin.

Inside, though, I felt the weight pressing harder. Every place we went, every step we took, trouble followed. And the Mandarin? He was out there, watching the ripples spread.

“Now,” Tony said, forcing his voice steady, “we were having an actual conversation before Captain Camo tried to rearrange my dental work. Let’s pick it back up.”

Harley, bless him, leaned forward.

“You were asking about the bombings,” Harley said.

Tony nodded.

“Right,” Tony said. “What do you know?”

Harley’s face pinched.

“My friend’s big brother was near the first one,” Harley explained. “They said it didn’t look like a bomb. No shrapnel. Just… people gone. Burned out.”

Johnny shifted in the booth, his eyes darker than the ash that curled at his fingertips. He knew too well what fire did, what it left behind.

“That sounds like energy, not explosives,” Johnny muttered.

Steve drummed his fingers on the metal napkin holder, making it twitch in rhythm.

“Something unstable,” Steve grumbled. “Tech, maybe. Not standard ordinance.”

Darry folded his arms, his frown deepening.

“And the casualties line up with people, not structures,” Darry said thoughtfully. “Someone’s using lives as fuel.”

The thought made my stomach twist. Harley’s emotions swirled: fear, anger, the sharp sting of wanting answers no one was giving him.

I leaned forward.

“Harley, you said your friend’s brother was right there,” I said softly. “Did he mention… anything before it happened? Heat, light, sound?”

The kid chewed his lip, then snapped his fingers.

“Yeah!” Harley said. “He said it was quiet. No boom, no flash. Just heat, like standing too close to a bonfire, then, gone.”

Tony scribbled on a napkin, diagrams tumbling out of his pen.

“That’s not a bomb,” Tony said. “That’s human combustion. Weaponized.” He tossed the napkin down, eyes narrowing. “Extremis.”

The word hung in the air like smoke.

Dally cracked his knuckles, feeding on the anger around the table.

“So somebody’s cooking people alive?” Dally growled. “I’d like to return the favor.”

Soda leaned back, shaking his head.

“Nah, man,” Soda said. “You’re missing it, it ain’t about cooking. It’s about control. Whoever’s running this, they’re making people into bombs. Human grenades.”

Harley’s eyes went wide, and I felt his heart lurch, fear mixing with awe. He looked at Tony, then at us, as if realizing he was sitting in a booth with the people crazy enough to fight it.

Tony exhaled, fingers pressed to his temples.

“The Mandarin isn’t just sending threats,” Tony said. “He’s building a chain reaction. And Happy…” His voice cracked a little, sharp with guilt. “Happy’s in the middle of it.”

I reached out, brushing his emotions again: steady, grounding. He glanced at me, and for once, didn’t push back.

Darry broke the silence with his gravel tone.

“Then we find him,” Darry said. “Fast.”

Two-Bit grinned, tossing a sugar packet in the air and catching it behind his back.

“Guess it’s time we order dessert,” Two-Bit joked. “Chaos, party of nine.”

Harley laughed, the tension breaking just enough.

But under it all, the truth dug in. We weren’t just chasing shadows anymore. We were walking straight into a storm, one built on fire and fear. And this time, I wasn’t sure my light would be enough to hold it back.

Leaving Harley wasn’t easy. Kid had latched onto us like he’d been waiting his whole life for someone to swoop in and prove the world wasn’t all abandonment and broken promises. I felt it all, his hope, his fear, the sharp sting of being left behind again.

“Don’t look at me like that, kid,” Tony said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You’re safer here.”

Harley crossed his arms, chin jutted out.

“I could help,” Harley protested.

Johnny crouched by him, eyes soft.

“You already did,” Johnny told him. “More than you know.”

Tony gestured to the half-dead Mark 42 slumped in the corner of Harley’s shed.

“Tell you what,” Tony said. “You hang onto my friend here. Keep him charged, patched up. Consider it a project.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “And if anyone comes sniffing around, this suit’ll scare them off faster than your potato gun.”

That made Harley’s eyes shine, even through the hurt.

“Seriously?” Harley said, eagerly. “I get to keep it?”

Tony smirked.

“Temporarily,” Tony said. “Rental terms apply.”

Two-Bit muttered, “Kid’s about to run the only Iron Man daycare in Tennessee,” and Harper would’ve laughed if she were there to hear it.

Darry clapped Harley gently on the shoulder.

“Take care of yourself,” Darry said with a small smile. “You matter, alright?”

I felt Harley absorb that like sunlight. A kid starved for someone to believe it.

We piled into a beat-up car Steve hotwired without breaking a sweat, the engine humming under his control. The shed, the kid, the flicker of hope, all of it faded in the rearview mirror.

Tony was already digging out his phone, eyes dark.

“JARVIS, patch me through to Rhodey,” Tony ordered.

Static. Then Rhodey’s voice, sharp, tired.

“Tony, not a good time…” Rhodey said.

That’s when every screen in the diner lot around us, from gas pumps to a beat-up TV in the window, went black. Then a dragon banner flickered on, red and gold. The Mandarin’s voice rolled out, calm and cruel.

“You think you can stop me with suits and flags,” Mandarin taunted. “You think your armies can find me. But I am everywhere. I am inside your systems, your homes, your skies…”

Soda groaned from the back seat.

“Aw, man,” Soda said. “This dude’s got the world’s worst podcast.”

The image cut to soldiers, Iron Patriot among them, Rhodey suited up, walking into what looked like a small foreign compound. Then static, the camera jerking as men with guns swarmed him.
Darry stiffened.

“That’s not good,” Darry said.

“No kidding,” Dally snapped, leaning forward. “They’re luring him in.”

Onscreen, Mandarin’s voice dropped colder.

“You will never see me coming,” Mandarin said.

The feed cut. Silence hung in the car, thick as smoke.

Tony’s jaw locked, his hand white-knuckled around the wheel even though Steve was driving.

“They’ve got Rhodey,” Tony growled.

I felt his anger spike, fear braided in, guilt chewing at him. I reached for it, but it burned hot, nearly too much to touch.

Steve’s voice cut steadily. “So what’s the move?”

Tony’s eyes gleamed, hard and dangerous.

“We find the Mandarin,” Tony said. “And we take him apart.”

The car’s headlights carved through the Tennessee night, carrying us straight toward a war none of us fully understood.

Chapter Text

Chapter 51

Soda’s POV

The car ride out of Rose Hill left me buzzin’, nerves pricklin’ like static in the air. Tony had his Stark-phone up, talkin’ in that clipped, too-fast way he always does when he’s tryin’ not to sound scared.

“Air Force One,” Tony said. “Mandarin hack. Rhodey compromised.”

The words hung heavy, even over the low hum of the engine.

I glanced at my brothers, and the gang packed in beside me. Pony looked pale, staring out the window, his eyes far away like he could feel the fear ripple across the country. Darry sat stiff, jaw locked, the kind of silence that meant he was running battle scenarios in his head. Johnny twisted fire between his fingers like a nervous tic, tiny embers dancing in the dark of the car. Two-Bit was the only one who tried to cut the tension.

“Hey, at least we’re upgradin’,” Two-Bit joked. “Last week it was small-town diners, this week? Air Force freakin’ One.” He gave a weak grin. “Guess we’re movin’ up in the world.”

No one laughed.

When the call came through the speakers, the voice was wrong. I’d never heard the Mandarin before, but there was something too staged about it, too smug. He hijacked the government’s line like he owned it.

“You’ll never see me coming,” the voice intoned, and I swear Pony flinched like the words themselves carried malice.

Then the scene jumped. The Strays, Tony, and Darry’s plan to intercept merged in chaos; the Mandarin’s men were already in place. Air Force One, flying high, wasn’t just a target. It was a stage.
We weren’t on the plane when it started, but Tony’s HUD showed us everything, patching through Jarvis. One armored imposter in Rhodey’s Iron Patriot suit turned on the passengers like they were dolls. Secret Service agents went flying, alarms blared, and the whole cabin tilted into a nightmare.

“Breaker (Steve), Jokester (Two-Bit), get me visuals on the engines,” Tony barked, already suiting up in one of the older armors we’d patched together. The Mark 42 was still half-busted, parked back in Rose Hill’s barn like a kid’s science project.

Breaker (Steve) closed his eyes, reaching out with his telekinetic tether. I could feel the engines hum through him, could see the shape of it in his posture.

“I got it,” Breaker (Steve) muttered. “Engines stable, for now. But the Patriot imposter? He’s rigged.”

“Rigged how?” Atlas (Darry) asked.

“Explosives. Self-destruct is built into the system,” Breaker (Steve) elaborated. “If he goes, the plane goes with him.”

My gut twisted. No time to think. No time to breathe. Just move.

Tony launched skyward, and the Strays scrambled into motion. Atlas (Darry) braced himself on the ramp of our borrowed transport, ready to leap if the plane went down. Ash (Johnny) crouched near him, smoke trailing off his hands like storm clouds. Mindlight’s (Pony) glow flickered faintly in the corner of my eye, his shields already humming like neon glass. Jokester (Two-Bit) twirled a coin, muttering something about luck always favoring idiots, and I prayed for once he was right.

And me? My pulse was already racing.

I leaned out of the transport door, wind tearing my hair back, and focused. Charm, speed, rhythm, it wasn’t just party tricks anymore. My voice could cut fear. My grin could settle panic. And damn if those passengers on Air Force One weren’t about to need it.

Through Tony’s feed, we watched the Iron Patriot imposter turn on the President’s men, repulsors flaring. Screams echoed in the cabin. The world’s most powerful leaders’ ride had become a coffin.

“Pulse (Soda),” Tony snapped. “You’re on crowd control. Keep ‘em calm. We don’t need mass panic.”

“Got it,” I said, flashing a grin no one could see through the storm.

And then I was gone, speed pulling me forward, body a blur of ash and light as I hit the side hatch Tony tore open for me.

Inside smelled like ozone and fear. Secret Service had their guns out, but they weren’t aimed at the enemy; they were pointed everywhere, wild, scattered. I stepped into the chaos and let my voice ride the wave.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Eyes on me! You’re not dyin’ today. You’re gonna sit your asses down and breathe.” The words rolled out sharp, hypnotic, edged with that unnatural calm my gift carried. One by one, shoulders eased, guns lowered. The panic simmered instead of boiling over.

Out the window, Tony streaked past, gold-and-red blur against the clouds.

“Atlas (Darry), he’s heading for the imposter,” Tony said. “Breaker (Steve), keep the engines steady!”

I stayed rooted with the passengers, voice weaving through the air like a lifeline, even as the fight outside ripped across the sky.

Because this wasn’t just about saving the President. This was about proving we could still stand, scattered, shaken, and scarred from New York, sure, but not broken.

And God help me, I wasn’t about to let anyone fall today.

It all went to hell fast.

One second, Tony had the fake Iron Patriot locked down. Next? The bastard triggered his built-in fail-safe, blowing a hole straight through Air Force One’s belly.

The whole damn plane buckled like a soda can under a boot. I didn’t have to be Mindlight (Pony) to feel the spike of terror ripple through the passengers, the sound of metal screaming, air roaring past, bodies sucked toward the yawning sky.

“Pulse (Soda), status!” Tony barked in my ear.

“Status?!” I yelled back, bracing myself as a galley cart whipped past me. “We’re about to be people purée, that’s the status!”

But my voice cut through the fear, steady and sharp. I grabbed onto the nearest panicked agent, his hands clawing at the open air.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Look at me. You’re okay. You’re not falling yet.” The hypnosis pulsed through my words, calming just enough of the crowd so Atlas (Darry) and Ash (Johnny) could move.

Atlas (Darry) braced himself like he was Atlas for real, arms spread against the walls, holding back debris and keeping the path clear. Ash (Johnny) threw up a wall of smoke and fire to block the gale, his face set in that quiet determination he wore like armor.
Breaker’s (Steve) voice crackled over comms, taut with concentration.
“Engines gone,” Breaker (Steve) said. “Tony, you’ve got seconds before the whole damn thing tears apart.”

“I know, I know!” Tony’s voice was jagged, almost manic. “I’ve got this. Just… follow my lead.”

And then Tony launched himself into the sky, armor flashing.

“Fourteen people free-falling,” JARVIS announced. “Recommend immediate intervention.”

Tony didn’t hesitate. He dove.

I clambered to the hole, my heart jackhammering. The passengers were already falling, arms and legs flailing, screams swallowed by the wind.

“Pulse (Soda)!” Tony shouted. “I need you! You’re the link!”

Got it.

I leaned out of the fuselage, body a blur, my voice carrying like thunder.

“Grab hands!” I shouted. “Trust me! Just grab hands!” The hypnosis ran wild, cutting through the free-fall terror, pulling them to each other like magnets. My charm wasn’t just smiles and tricks anymore; it was survival.

Tony caught the first, then the next, chaining them together midair.

“Okay, everybody!” Tony shouted. “We’re playin’ Barrel of Monkeys!”

Jokester’s (Two-Bit) voice cackled in my ear.

“Only Stark would turn a rescue op into a carnival game,” Jokester (Two-Bit) laughed.

But damn if it didn’t work.

One by one, Tony hauled them together, fourteen human links hanging from his arms. And every time one started to panic, my voice cut across the comms, sharp, soothing, commanding.

“Don’t let go,” I said. “Eyes forward. You’re not gonna die today.”

I meant it. Every word.

They hit the water like a comet, Stark releasing them in time to soften the fall. All fourteen, alive.

I sagged against the wreckage of the galley, laughing breathlessly.

“You crazy son of a, Tony, you actually did it,” I said, grinning.

But the relief didn’t last.

A news chopper swooped in, camera trained on Tony. His voice crackled over comms, cocky again but carrying that edge of exhaustion.

“Well, that was fun,” Tony said. “Somebody call Guinness, ‘cause I just set a record for mid-air catch-and-release.”

The reporter was already narrating, the whole thing streaming live across the country. Stark is saving lives. Stark pulling miracles.

And then…

BOOM.

The Iron Man suit exploded midair.

The world froze for a heartbeat. My chest seized like ice had been shoved down it. Mindlight (Pony) gasped audibly, his shield flickering out from sheer shock. Johnny (Ash) swore under his breath. Atlas’s (Darry) hand clenched into a fist like he was about to punch the sky itself.

But then the feed showed it wasn’t Tony. The suit crumpled empty, falling like a dead bird. And Tony’s voice crackled through, smug as hell:

“Relax, gang,” Tony said. “Remote pilot. I’m back on the ground. Hijacked a news van.”

We all exhaled at once, a messy chorus of relief and curses.

Our transport circled lower, picking up the last of the debris. Tony’s voice came again, this time quieter, the bravado slipping.

“Listen… Mandarin just went global,” Tony said. “He’s making this personal. No more games. You ready to finish this?”

Atlas (Darry) answered before anyone else could, voice steady, commanding.

“We’ve been ready since New York,” Atlas (Darry) said.

And me? My grin crept back, sharp and dangerous.

“Let’s go show this Mandarin bastard what happens when you mess with family,” I said.

We touched down hard in the Quinjet Fury’d scrambled for us, the kind of landing that rattled your teeth even if you weren’t the one flying. Nobody said a word at first. We were still coming down from the adrenaline high of the Air Force One mess, hearts pounding, hands shaking just enough to show we weren’t machines.

Tony stood at the front, hands braced on the console, staring at the endless reel of Mandarin broadcasts looping across the monitors. The voice, the cheap set, the smoke and bravado, it was everywhere. The whole country was locked into fear, and Tony Stark hated nothing more than somebody else holding the microphone.

“JARVIS, triangulate the source,” Tony snapped, his tone just shy of breaking.

“Already did, sir,” JARVIS replied coolly. “Residual signal traces point to a location outside Miami. Coastal property. High security.”

Steve leaned in, grease under his nails like always, eyes sharp.

“Private estate,” Breaker (Steve) said. “We’ll need schematics before we move, or we’re walking into a minefield.”

Tony’s smirk twitched back, brittle but present.

“Don’t worry, Breaker (Steve),” Tony said. “I’ve been winging it since ’08.”

I leaned back in my seat, trying to cut through the rising tension.

“Yeah, and look how well that went for your Malibu place,” I teased.

Jokester (Two-Bit) barked a laugh.

“Too soon, Pulse (Soda),” Jokester (Two-Bit) said.

“Never too soon,” I fired back, but the grin didn’t reach my eyes.

Atlas (Darry) folded his arms, shoulders so broad he practically blocked out the Quinjet’s overhead lights. His voice was the calm before a storm.

“We can’t treat this like another smash-and-grab,” Atlas (Darry) said. “Mandarin made it personal with the whole country. We go in, we do it right. Together.”

Mindlight (Pony) sat across from me, arms wrapped around his knees like he was bracing himself. His eyes were far away, shimmering faintly with that light of his when he felt too much. I didn’t need to ask; he was carrying every ounce of fear from the passengers we’d saved. I shot him a quick grin, softer this time.

“Hey, Pony,” I said. “You kept people calm midair. That wasn’t Stark. That was you. Don’t forget it.”

His gaze flicked up, a faint smile breaking through the weight.

Ash (Johnny) sat quietly at the edge, hoodie pulled tight. The faint ash smell clung to him, like a reminder of what he could unleash if needed. He didn’t say a word, but his jaw set hard, ready for whatever waited in Miami.

Reckless (Dally) cracked his knuckles, leaning back like he was itching for the fight.

“So what’s the plan, Stark?” Reckless (Dally) growled. “‘Cause I’m ready to burn something down.”

Tony didn’t even blink.

“Good,” Tony said. “You’ll get your chance.”

The broadcast cut again, Mandarin’s face filling the screen, his voice echoing through the cabin.

“Some people call me a terrorist,” The Mandarin said. “I consider myself a teacher. America needs lessons. And I will deliver them.”

My gut twisted, but my grin sharpened.

“Alright then,” I said. “Class is in session.”

Breaker (Steve) tapped the console, pulling up the Miami estate in wireframe.

“Heavy guards,” Breaker (Steve) Muttered. “Fortified entrances. Surveillance inside and out. This guy wanted to be found but doesn’t want to be touched.”

“Sounds like every magician I ever conned,” Jokester (Two-Bit) said, flipping a coin through his fingers. “The louder the smoke, the weaker the trick.”

Tony snapped his fingers, energized.

“Exactly,” Tony said. “You all wanted a Mandarin? We’re gonna pull the curtain back. Pulse (Soda) keeps civilians calm if it gets loud. Mindlight (Pony) cover us with those shields if things go sideways. Atlas (Darry), Breaker (Steve), Reckless (Dally) you’re my battering rams. Ash (Johnny) and Jokester (Two-Bit) make the chaos work for us.”

And me? I just sat there grinning, heart hammering, the taste of ash and jet fuel still in my throat.

Miami was waiting.

And we were coming for it.