Life can Change: What a Marvel Part 3 (36k -> 46k) (Patreon)

The SHIELD headquarters buried deep beneath the ground remained in chaos more than twelve hours after the initial sabotage. Emergency lights bathed every corridor and smokew lingered in the air from secondary explosions that had ripped through lower levels. Crews in hazmat suits moved through damaged sections while others hauled debris away in wheelbarrows. 

Agents shouted orders over the radios while the main command hall itself looked like a war zone. Consoles sparked where wiring had melted. Several screens stayed dark. Others flickered with static or looped error messages. Technicians crouched under desks and pried open access panels in a frantic effort to restore the systems.

Director Fury stood in the center of the command hall with his arms crossed. He wore his standard black coat over tactical gear. His single eye scanned the room while he barked orders to the cluster of officers around him. "I want status reports from every sector in the next ninety seconds. If a team is down, send the next closest squad. Move." His voice carried over the alarms without rising in volume and the various agents scrambled to comply.

Maria Hill approached from the left side of the room. She carried a tablet in one hand and spoke into her comm with the other. She stopped in front of Fury and lowered the device. "Power is still out on levels three through seven. Backup generators took a direct hit from the overload sequence. Secondary explosions continue in the maintenance tunnels. The last one occurred eight minutes ago near the east ventilation shaft. No casualties reported in that incident."

Fury nodded. "Evacuation?" He asked. 

"Engineers advise against it for now," Hill said. "They say the integrity checks out. Full structural scan completes in fifteen minutes. If it holds, we can stay put and focus on repairs."

"Get repair teams on the generators first," Fury ordered. "I want main power restored before dawn. Prioritize the command deck and medical bays. Tell them to pull whoever they need from off duty if necessary."

Before Hill could respond, the doors at the far end of the hall slammed open. Clint Barton strode through. His face was flushed and he walked straight toward Fury without slowing. "What is going on here!?" he shouted."Why the hell we're security teams shooting at Nat!?"

Maria stepped forward. "Agent Barton, remember who you are addressing."

Clint ignored her completely. He kept his eyes locked on Fury. "I ran into her in the hallway right before the blast. Next thing I know she's sprinting away and half the security detail opens fire. They were trying to drop her. My partner. One of ours. Explain that to me."

Fury held up one hand to silence Maria before she could speak again. He fixed his gaze on Clint. "Start from the beginning. What exactly did you see?"

Clint took a breath and forced his tone down. "I was coming back from the range when I spotted her in corridor C-14. She looked off. Pale. Shaky. I asked if she was okay after the collapse in the briefing room. She said she needed to go. I tried to stop her. Then the explosion hit. When the red emergency lights kicked in I saw her running, but security rounded the corner behind her and started shooting her. They weren't aiming to kill but they sure as hell weren't asking questions either. She took them down like they were rookies then she was gone."

Fury listened without interrupting. When Clint finished he nodded slowly. "I had no knowledge of or gave any order to apprehend Agent Romanoff. None. If someone issued that command it did not come from me."

Clint stared at him. "Then who the hell did?"

"I intend to find out," Fury said.

At that moment the lights overhead flickered. Backup power engaged. Consoles beeped as systems began to reboot. Fury turned to the nearest tech. "Track Agent Romanoff's last known movements. Pull every camera feed from the moment the generators blew. I want her location. Now."

The tech nodded and hurried to a console.

Maria stepped closer to Fury and lowered her voice. "Secretary Pierce has been trying to reach you for the last twenty minutes. He's on secure line three. Insists on speaking to you directly."

Fury cursed under his breath. "Of course he does." He looked at Maria. "Tell him I'm on my way." He turned and walked toward his private office at the rear of the command hall. The door slid open at his approach. He stepped inside and sealed it behind him.

The office was sparse. A desk. A single chair. A large monitor mounted on the wall. Fury moved to the console built into the desk and typed a sequence of commands. He entered his specialized clearance code. 

The screen blinked green. 

A moment later Alexander Pierce appeared on the feed.

"Do you have her in custody yet?" Pierce said almost immediately. 

Fury leaned forward. "By her I assume you mean Agent Romanoff."

Pierce's eyes narrowed. "Do not take that tone with me, Director."

Fury's jaw tightened. "I never issued any order to bring Agent Romanoff into custody. If that directive did not come from me then the only person with the authority to override my command is you. So explain to me why one of my best agents is being hunted like a fugitive inside my own facility."

Pierce remained calm. "That information is need-to-know. All you need to know is Agent Romanoff has become priority one. Her immediate capture is essential to national security."

Fury stared at the screen with a frown. "I want more than that. Romanoff would not go rogue without reason. Whatever happened she believes she has cause. Give me something so I can talk her down and bring her back."

Pierce shook his head. "You have your orders. Locate Agent Romanoff. Bring her in alive. Fail to do so and I will find a director who can."

Fury held the stare for another second. "Understood." He ended the call and the screen went dark.

He pressed the comm in his ear. "Barton. Hill. My office. Now."

Less than a minute later the door opened. Clint and Maria entered together. Both started speaking at the same time.

Clint said, "Director, if this is about—"

Maria said, "Sir, we have partial footage from—"

Fury silenced them with one hard look. He reached under the desk and pressed a concealed button. A high-pitched whine filled the room for three seconds then faded. "Keep your questions to yourselves," Fury said. "We have thirty seconds of free talk. So listen."

He leaned back in his chair. "Hill, use every SHIELD asset at your disposal to locate Agent Romanoff. Satellite overwatch. Traffic cams. I want you to make a big show of it for the Secretary, make him think we're directing all our resources towards finding her."

Hill nodded. "Yes sir."

Fury turned to Clint. "Barton, you are going to actually find her. Whatever reason she had to run they are not sharing it with us. That means we need the truth from her directly. Hill will give you as much breathing room as she can. Your job is to track her down and get answers. Bring her in quietly if possible. If not, keep her safe until we figure out why they issued the order."

Clint met his gaze. "Understood."

Hill said, "Understood, sir."

Both turned and left the office without another word.

Fury remained seated alone. He stared at the blank scree while fingers drummed on the desk. He exhaled slowly through his nose and muttered to the empty room, "What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Romanoff?" 

_____________________________________

"Control, this is Echo-Two. We are in position outside target location. Visual confirmation on building exterior matches intel packet. No visible surveillance or countersurveillance in immediate area. Request final go."

A voice responded through the earpiece. "Echo-Two, this is Control. You are cleared to proceed. Breach and clear. Priority is live capture if subject is present. Non-lethal force authorized. Report status on entry."

Kessler nodded to Ramirez. 

Ramirez returned the nod. 

Both men drew compact pistols from inside their jackets and kept them against their thighs so the barrels pointed toward the pavement. They crossed the street quickly and entered the building through the front door. The lobby smelled of old carpet and faint cooking grease and an elevator stood open on the ground floor. They ignored it and moved to the stairwell on the right side. Kessler took point. He climbed the stairs two at a time with his pistol raised in a low-ready position. Ramirez followed three steps behind and covered the rear angle.

They reached the fourth floor without encountering anyone, when they pushed through the door into the hallway it stretched straight ahead with four doors on each side. Apartment 4C sat at the far end. The door had a brass number plate screwed into the wood and a small brass knocker shaped like a bell. 

Kessler stopped three feet from the door and Ramirez moved up beside him. They exchanged another nod then Kessler raised his left boot and drove the heel into the lock just above the knob and the wood splintered around the knob of the door. The door then flew inward and banged against the interior wall.

Both agents swept inside with pistols up, Ramirez cleared left toward the kitchen alcove and Kessler cleared right toward the living room. The apartment consisted of one main room, a small kitchen separated by a half-wall, and a single bedroom visible through an open doorway. 

Ramirez moved to the kitchen counter, checked behind the refrigerator and under the small table. 

Nothing. 

Kessler advanced into the living room and scanned behind the couch and inside the narrow closet beside the television. 

Empty. 

He stepped into the bedroom and looked around, the bed had no sheets and the closet held only a few hangers. He cursed under his breath before returning to the main room.

Ramirez stood at the small dining table near the window where a single sheet of white paper rested in the center. 

Ramirez holstered his pistol and picked up the note. "Beers in the fridge. Help yourselves. Sorry I missed you. -N."

Kessler let out a short breath through his nose and touched his earpiece. "Control, Echo-Two. Apartment is clear. No sign of Agent Romanoff, the subject left a note on the table, it's clear she knew we were coming. The whole location has been sanitized, I doubt we'll find anything here."

Control responded immediately. "Echo-Two, acknowledged. Secure the note for evidence recovery. Sweep for any secondary devices or traces. Then extract. Control out."

Ramirez folded the note and slipped it into an evidence bag from his jacket pocket. 

Kessler opened the refrigerator and saw four unopened bottles of lager sat on the middle shelf. "Damn bitch..." he muttered before closing the door without touching them. 

Both agents conducted one final sweep of the apartment, but sadly for them they found nothing else, so with nothing else left to do they exited the apartment and pulled the damaged door closed behind them as best they could. They then descended the stairs and walked back out to the street.

Meanwhile across the street, inside a narrow coffee shop called Brew & Bean, Natasha Romanoff sat at a window table. She wore a charcoal gray wool coat with the collar turned up and a black scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She had a platinum blonde wig on and dark sunglasses on the bridge of her nose even though the day was overcast. 

A large mug of black coffee sat in front of her which she held in both hands, she watched through the window as Ramirez and Kessler emerged from the building. They spoke briefly into their earpieces, then walked toward a black SUV parked two blocks down. 

They climbed inside and drove away.

Natasha sighed as she set the mug down on the table. 

The problem with working for a spy agency is they always know where your safe houses are.

She lifted the mug again and took a small sip, the coffee wasn't that good it tasted bitter and slightly burnt, though she barely noticed. 

This marked the fifth safe house SHIELD had compromised in the last thirty-six hours. The brownstone in Brooklyn. The walk-up in Hell's Kitchen. The sublet in Chelsea. The studio in the East Village. Now this one on the Upper West Side. She doubted the remaining two would last much longer. SHIELD moved methodically when they wanted someone contained and no doubt they would keep tightening the net until no options remained.

She placed her right hand on her stomach beneath the table and pressed gently. Obviously she couldn't feel any movement yet, but still, knowing there was a baby growing inside her comforted her in a way she'd never felt before. 

Despite how bad this situation was she felt happy in a way she had never expected. Still, it was difficult not to think about how this was impossible. The Red Room had performed the surgery when she turned sixteen. The procedure had not simply sterilized her, the surgeons had removed her uterus and ovaries entirely, the doctors had told her the change was permanent. Irreversible. And she had believed them for more than a decade.

She still did not understand how Mark had managed to get her pregnant. The biology refused to align with everything she knew about her own body. Yet the ultrasound image from the medical bay remained burned into her memory.

It was true, even if it was impossible.

She pushed the thought aside for now. 

Survival came first. 

She needed somewhere SHIELD would not think to look, somewhere they would hesitate to approach even if they did find it. Mark's apartment in Harlem surfaced immediately in her mind. She knew the address, she had lived there for months after all. 

Natasha knew that he would not turn her away, he would not let anyone harm her or the baby and SHIELD would back off rather than risk direct confrontation with him.  Invincible carried too much public goodwill and too much raw power, they would not want that fight unless the stakes left him no choice.

But how long would that safety last? 

SHIELD never stopped developing weapons, whether they were technological, biological or even esoteric in nature, SHIELD would have their hand in it. The moment Mark debuted at the Stark Expo SHIELD had been trying to develop a weapon capable of neutralising Mark. 

What happens when they succeeded? 

She wondered whether she should drag Mark into this at all. She had already lied to him for months. She had spied on him for SHIELD and broke his heart when she told the truth. 

She'd also told him that she couldn't have children, that it was impossible. Now she carried his child. Dropping this on him felt like another betrayal. But even considering that she knew ne would help her, she was certain of that. He would feel compelled to protect them both, but the more she thought about it the more she felt she could not force that burden on him after everything else she had done.

She sighed heavily again before she lifted the mug and drained the last of the coffee then set it back on the saucer. 

She could sit here all day and think about the morality of telling Mark or not, but it wouldn't help her now. 

What she needed was a safe place with medical oversight. The pregnancy defied every medical fact she understood about her own history. She required someone who could monitor her without alerting SHIELD. Someone with access to advanced equipment and no ties to government agencies.

Only one name came to mind.

She stood up from the table. She left a ten-dollar bill beside the empty mug and pushed through the glass door and stepped onto the sidewalk. She turned south and started walking toward Midtown. 

The Baxter Building was twenty-five blocks away.

____________________________________

Meanwhile twenty-five blocks away Colleen Wing and Sue Storm faced one another on the padded mats in the Baxter Building gym, the wide training space occupying most of the thirty-second floor. Thick rubber flooring stretched wall to walland a rack of free weights lined the opposite wall, and two mirrored panels reflected the room from different angles so fighters could study their form in real time.

Colleen wore black athletic shorts and a gray tank top that clung to her shoulders with sweat. Sue stood opposite her in navy leggings and a fitted white sports bra. Both women had their hair pulled back into tight ponytails, and as they began to circle, their hands hovered in loose guard positions, testing distance without committing.

Sue moved first, stepping in with a quick jab aimed at Colleen's face. Colleen tilted her head just enough for the punch to graze past her cheek, and before Sue could reset, she followed with a right cross. Colleen absorbed the impact on her left forearm, pivoted slightly to bleed off the force, and stepped back to widen the gap between them. Sue refused to yield ground. She advanced again, snapping a low kick toward Colleen's lead leg, but Colleen checked it with her shin and answered with a jab that forced Sue to duck.

Rather than retreat, Sue pressed harder, throwing a three-punch combination. Colleen blocked the first two strikes on her forearms and slid off-line before the third could land cleanly. Sue lunged with a straight right, extending fully through her shoulder, yet Colleen leaned back at the last second, the punch cutting through empty air just inches from her nose.

Frustration flickered across Sue's face, though she masked it quickly and closed the distance in an attempt to clinch. Colleen read the shift in posture, pivoted on her back foot, and caught Sue's extended arm mid-transition. With a quick pull and a turn of her hips, she redirected Sue's forward momentum and flipped her cleanly over her hip. Sue hit the mat with a solid thud, air rushing from her lungs as the impact echoed faintly in the room.

Colleen wasted no time. She dropped down, slid behind Sue's shoulders, and wrapped her arm around her neck in a rear naked choke. She tightened the hold just enough to apply pressure without restricting airflow, maintaining complete control while giving Sue space to respond. Sue struggled for a few seconds, testing the grip and trying to pry at Colleen's forearm, but the leverage was perfect. Finally, she tapped twice against Colleen's arm.

Colleen released her immediately and rolled aside, sitting cross-legged on the mat while she caught her breath. Sue remained flat on her back for a moment longer, staring up at the ceiling as her chest rose and fell. When Colleen extended her hand, Sue accepted it, allowing herself to be pulled upright into a seated position.

"You're improving," Colleen said, brushing sweat from her brow with the back of her wrist. "Over the past few weeks, you've picked up the fundamentals faster than most people I train. Your footwork is better, your punches snap instead of push, and you're starting to anticipate setups rather than just reacting to them."

Sue groaned softly and rubbed the back of her neck. "That's encouraging, but I still haven't beaten you once."

Colleen smiled. "If you did, I'd start questioning my life choices. I've been training since I was six. You started a few weeks ago. So give yourself some credit."

Sue stretched her arms overhead and rolled her shoulders, feeling the burn settle into her muscles. She had begun training with Colleen a few weeks earlier, partly at Colleen's suggestion and partly because she needed an outlet. Working alongside Reed and her father on the GeoCore Stabilizer drained her mentally, while cleaning up after Ben and Johnny exhausted her patience. The lessons gave her something tangible to focus on, plus it was a pretty good workout. 

They crossed the gym toward a small fridge beside a water cooler. Colleen opened it first, pulled out two bottles of water, and handed one to Sue. They sat shoulder to shoulder on a bench along the wall, drinking in silence until Sue finally exhaled in frustration.

"Lately, this has been... a lot," Sue admitted, twisting the cap between her fingers. "I spend half my day cleaning up after Ben and Johnny. Ben leaves rock fragments everywhere, and Johnny has been setting fires like it's a competitive sport. Meanwhile, I'm running the entire building. Dad and Reed are so buried in the GeoCore project that they forget the foundation still has to function. Grants need filing, donors want updates, payroll has to clear. I'm one part scientist, four parts housekeeper, and five parts CEO."

Colleen nodded thoughtfully. "I get it. I've had a few bosses who put impossible expectations on me. They wanted results yesterday and did not care how many hours it took. You are juggling more than most people could handle, I think you should take a break m."

Sue leaned back against the wall. "I would settle for one day where nothing breaks, ignites, or requires my signature."

Both the women finished the water and stood up before leaving the gym. They headed toward the lounge, and Sue pushed open the double doors without hesitation.

The room looked comfortable enough; a large sectional sofa faced a flat-screen television mounted above a holographic fireplave, and a full kitchen occupied one side of the space. Sue walked straight to the refrigerator and opened it, only to find bare shelves staring back at her. A lone carton of milk sat on the top shelf, and a half-eaten container of yogurt rested in the middle, but everything else was gone.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Johnny," she muttered darkly. 

Turning to Colleen. "He cleared it out again. We're officially ordering takeout." She added. 

Colleen was about to respond when movement near the hallway caught her eye. Johnny Storm stood there, dressed in gray sweatpants and a black tank top, the tips of his hair sticking up and full of gel. A grin spread across his face when he looked at Colleen.

"Hey, Colleen," Johnny said, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. "You look incredible after a workout. There's something about that post-sparring glow. If you ever want a private session, I'm more than qualified. I promise not to go too hard on you."

Colleen folded her arms and gave him a flat look. "I don't date twinks... sorry Johnny."

From the hallway came a rumbling laugh as Ben entered mid-exchange. "Ha! She got you good, matchstick."

Johnny straightened immediately. "I am not twink!" he protested, flexing both arms with exaggerated pride. "This is peak physical condition."

Ben ambled past him toward the fridge. "Does not get any twinkier than you, bud."

Sue rubbed her temples. "Johnny, leave her alone. She's not interested."

Johnny turned toward her with theatrical disbelief. "She just hasn't been properly introduced to my charm."

Sue raised an eyebrow. "Keep testing that theory, and you'll be introduced to my foot up your ass, now go watch TV twink."

Grumbling, Johnny dropped onto the couch and grabbed the remote, flipping channels then throwing the remote.

Ben, meanwhile, retrieved a bottle of orange juice, took a long drink straight from it, and then glanced at Sue. "By the way, you've got someone downstairs. Says they're here about the intern interview."

Sue froze before her eyes widened. "The interview!" she repeated, slapping her forehead. "I completely forgot."

She turned to Colleen apologetically . "I'm so sorry. I need to handle this now."

Colleen waved her off. "Go. I'll survive."

Sue pointed toward Johnny without looking at him. "And you. Behave."

Johnny raised both hands lazily. "Scout's honor."

Sue shot him a look that made it clear she did not believe him, then hurried out toward the elevators and went down to reception. 

As soon as her footsteps faded. "One harmless compliment and suddenly I'm the villain," Johnny muttured.

Ben snorted. "Hey maybe you should work this into your superhero name you were going on about, the Human Twink, or what about the Flaming Twink."

"Shut up I'm not a Twink!" Johnny cried out. 

...

The elevator doors parted on the ground-floor reception level, and Sue stepped out into the marble-floored lobby, adjusting the collar of her cardigan as she crossed the open space. The reception desk stood unattended, though a security guard behind the glass partition offered her a respectful nod. She returned it absently before pushing through the double doors into the waiting area.

Six cushioned chairs were arranged in two neat rows, facing a coffee table cluttered with outdated science magazines. Only one person occupied the room, seated near the window with her legs crossed and a magazine resting against her knee.

"Darcy?" she asked, a relieved smile forming on her face as she crossed the room. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I completely blanked on the interview. It's been nonstop upstairs and it slipped my mind. Please tell me you haven't been here long."

Darcy Lewis rose smoothly from her chair, adjusting the sleeve of her navy blazer. She wore a crisp white button-down tucked into black slacks, her dark hair loose around her shoulders. "Relax," she said, offering a reassuring shrug. "I was late too. Bridge traffic was brutal and parking around here is basically a competitive sport. We're even."

Sue exhaled, tension easing from her shoulders. "That helps, but still. Not how I like to start things. Come on. Let's head upstairs. It's quieter."

They walked back through reception and into the elevator together. Sue pressed the button for the thirty-fifth floor. "Things have been... busy to say the least," Sue admitted, glancing at the numbers climbing above the door. "We're understaffed across the board. The lab's burning through funds. The administrative side's worse. If it looks chaotic when we step out, just know that's temporary."

Darcy waved a hand dismissively. "I once finished a thesis draft in my car because my dorm was being fumigated, trust me I can deal with whatever is up here."

Sue laughed softly. "You'll fit in just fine."

The elevator chimed, and the doors opened onto the thirty-fifth floor. They walked past a line of closed offices and several stacks of unopened supply boxes. Sue guided Darcy into a small conference room where a long glass table sat beneath the lights.

Sue closed the door and gestured toward a chair. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"I'm good," Darcy replied, setting her portfolio on the table and taking a seat.

Sue sat opposite her and picked up a tablet resting at the center of the table. After unlocking it, she pulled up Darcy's application file.

"Let me outline the role clearly," Sue began. "Officially it's lab assistant and administrative support. In practice, it's both at full speed. You'd help with lab setup, documentation, calibrating equipment, logging results, and running routine diagnostics when we need extra hands. On the admin side, it's grant tracking, scheduling, budget spreadsheets, and whatever else falls through the cracks because the rest of us are buried in research."

Darcy nodded thoughtfully. "So half lab coat, half assistant."

"Exactly," Sue said. "I flagged your application because of your prior lab experience. That stood out. Can you walk me through your time with Doctor Foster and Doctor Selvig?"

Darcy leaned forward, resting her forearms on the table. "I worked with them in New Mexico for almost two years. I handled data collection from the Einstein-Rosen bridge experiments. I kept equipment logs updated and maintained calibration schedules. I did the unglamorous work too; cleaning sensors, running spectrometer checks, inputting data into the database."

Sue scrolled through the file. "You've got solid hands-on experience, that's more than clear." She looked up. "I'm a little confused though, you're qualified for more than an assistant role. Why not apply for a full research position, there are tons of different laboratories across New York?"

Darcy didn't hesitate. "I'm not really too enthusiastic to work for some big corporate lab, from what I've read about the foundation you guys do a lot of work towards helping people, and I can more than get onboard with that."

Sue studied her for a moment, then nodded. "I see..."

She set the tablet down and folded her hands together on the table. "One more thing," Sue said. "We deal with situations that aren't always conventional. Some of our research touches on phenomena most institutions wouldn't know how to categorize. I need to know you won't back out if things get strange."

Darcy's mouth curved into a knowing smile. "I've seen strange, you don't have to worry about that."

Sue kept her expression neutral, though approval flickered in her eyes. "Good." She leaned forward slightly before sighing.

"Since you've been honest with me I'm going to be direct. I need someone who can support me across multiple roles. Lab work, administration, foundation oversight, building management. The hours can be long. The pay isn't spectacular at the start. But if you can handle the workload, the growth potential here is real. But honestly you're gonna be doing like two different jobs and it's gonna have you tearing your hair out."

Darcy met her gaze. "I'm in."

Sue blinked. "You're sure?"

"I need the job," Darcy replied calmly. "And you need the help. It's pretty straightforward."

Sue stood abruptly, relief washing across her face, and walked around the table before pulling Darcy into a tight hug. "Thank you," Sue said quietly. "You've got no idea how much this helps."

Darcy stiffened for half a second before patting Sue's back. "Okay. We're hugging. That's happening. I'm going to pretend this is professional bonding and not a HR incident."

Sue laughed and stepped back, keeping her hands lightly on Darcy's shoulders. "When can you start?"

"Tomorrow," Darcy answered. 

"Tomorrow works," Sue said immediately. She picked up her tablet again. "I'll send entry codes, parking details, and your schedule. If anything changes, text me."

"Got it."

They walked together to the elevator and rode down to the lobby. When the doors opened, Sue held them briefly.

"I'm glad you came in today," she said sincerely. "This is really going to make a difference."

Darcy offered a small nod. "See you tomorrow."

Sue watched her cross the lobby and exit through the glass doors, and for the first time in weeks, her chest felt lighter. The pressure that had been sitting there eased slightly. Finally, someone to share the workload.

She turned back toward the elevator and rode up.

When the doors opened on the thirty-fifth floor, she stepped into the corridor and moved toward the lounge. She had nearly reached the double doors when an arm suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind, and a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. She was yanked sideways into a narrow side room, and the door slammed shut behind them.

Sue reacted on instinct.

A shimmering force field snapped into place around her body, expanding outward in a burst. The pressure shoved her attacker backward.

Sue spun around. 

Her eyes widened in recognition.

"Natasha?"

Natasha Romanoff stood a few feet away, her hands were raised in a non-threatening gesture. "Sue," Natasha said quietly. "I need your help."

For a second, Sue Storm just stared at her.

Her pulse was still racing from the sudden grab, and the faint shimmer of her force field flickered at the edges of her skin before stabilizing. "What...Natasha, what's going on?" Sue's words tumbled out fast, overlapping. "Is this SHIELD? Are we compromised? Are we being quarantined again? Because if this is another containment protocol I need to call Reed and—"

"It's not that," Natasha cut in.

Sue didn't slow down. "Because the last time they put us under review it took weeks to clear and if they think the GeoCore's a threat, we just stabilized the—"

"Sue."

The single word manages to stop Sue mid-sentence.

Natasha took a small step forward, still keeping her palms visible. "I need you to breathe. Just for a minute. Calm down and listen to me. No interruptions."

Sue swallowed. Her field tightened instinctively, forming a faint, translucent barrier between them at chest height. She didn't even realize she'd done it.

"Okay," she said quickly. "Okay. I'm listening."

Natasha studied her for a moment, measuring whether she truly had her attention. Then she lowered her hands slowly, exhaling through her nose as if composing herself.

"I left SHIELD," Natasha finally said.

Sue blinked. "Left?"

"I'm off the grid," Natasha continued. "Officially I'm AWOL. Unofficially, I'm being hunted."

Sue felt like the floor shifted under her. "Hunted," she repeated. "You're telling me SHIELD is actively pursuing you?"

"Yes."

Sue took a step back, and the barrier between them thickened instinctively. "Natasha, that makes you a fugitive. That makes you a federal criminal. You can't just walk into our building and—" She gestured. "You realize what that does to us if they track you here?"

"I didn't do anything wrong," Natasha said calmly.

Sue let out a short, incredulous laugh. "You don't get hunted by SHIELD for nothing."

Natasha's expression hardened slightly. "Sue. I need you to stop panicking and start listening."

Sue crossed her arms tightly, though the shimmer remained in place between them. "Then explain it to me. Because right now this sounds like the worst possible situation."

Natasha held her gaze, and for the first time since Sue had known her, there was something unfamiliar there. It almost looked like fear. 

"I'm pregnant," Natasha said.

The word didn't register immediately.

Sue frowned. "You're... what?"

"Pregnant."

Sue's brows knit together in confusion. "Okay," she said slowly. "That's... not illegal. Why would SHIELD be hunting you because you're pregnant?"

"They're not hunting me because I'm pregnant," Natasha replied. "They're hunting me because of who the father is."

Sue opened her mouth to ask, and then stopped. A thought flashed through her mind and she dismissed it instantly. But the fact that it even surfaced made her stomach drop.

"Natasha," Sue said carefully, "who is the father?"

Natasha didn't look away.

"Invincible."

Sue's eyes widened. "Invincible?" she repeated, disbelief thick in her voice. "You mean the Invincible?"

"Yes."

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Invincible. The superhero powerhouse. The nearly indestructible anomaly who'd redefined what the word "superhero" meant. The very person that Sue had been looking for ever since he had saved her from in the Marriott. 

"You're telling me," Sue said slowly, trying to piece the logic together, "that you're carrying his child."

"Yes."

Sue pressed her palm to her forehead. "Oh my god."

Natasha's jaw tightened. "SHIELD won't see this as a child. They'll see it as a potential asset. Or a threat. Either way, they'll want to contro them."

Sue's breath caught. "They would take the baby."

"They'd take the baby," Natasha confirmed. "They'd study it. Train it. Turn it into something they can use. I won't let that happen."

Sue lowered her hand. "You're sure? About SHIELD's intentions?"

Natasha gave her a flat look. "I've worked inside that system for years. I know how they think. If they can't control something, they contain it. If they can't contain it, they neutralise it."

Sue nodded slowly, though her mind was still reeling at the father's identity. Invincible. Of all people.

She dropped the barrier, but still remained tense. "Why come here?" Sue asked after a moment. "If they're looking for you, the Baxter Building is one of the first places they'd check. We're not exactly well hidden."

Natasha nodded. "They will look here. Eventually. But your father has influence. And with the right legal pressure, they can't just storm this building without cause. Especially not while you're working on the GeoCore Stabilizer. SHIELD desperately want that project completed."

She stared at Natasha for a second, and then shook her head slightly. "Why didn't I think of that?" Sue muttered to herself, she then exhaled slowly. "Okay. Fine. Say we can keep them out for a while. That still doesn't explain why you need me specifically."

Natasha hesitated for the first time. "I need a doctor to monitor the pregnancy."

Sue blinked. "Natasha, I'm not a medical doctor."

"You're a biologist," Natasha countered. "And that's what I need."

Sue's confusion deepened. "Why?"

There was a pause.

Then Natasha said quietly, "Because I had my ovaries and reproductive system removed when I was younger."

Sue stared at her.

"That's not—" She stopped. "That's not possible. If that were true, you wouldn't be pregnant."

"Exactly. Hence why I need you," Natasha continued. "This pregnancy shouldn't exist. And yet it does. I need someone to monitor it. To make sure my baby's healthy. To figure out what's happening."

Sue didn't answer right away. She felt like she was trying to process three separate crises at once. A rogue SHIELD operation. A child fathered by one of the most powerful beings on Earth. A pregnancy that defied basic biology.

Her scientist's mind was screaming with questions.

Her friend's heart was pounding with concern.

"You're sure?" Sue asked finally. "About the surgery."

Natasha nodded once. "It was part of my training. Permanent. Or so they told me."

Sue paced once across the small room, dragging a hand through her hair. "This is... this is a medical impossibility. There's no documented mechanism for spontaneous ovarian regeneration in adult humans. Unless—"

She stopped herself.

Unless Invincible's physiology had altered something at a cellular level. Unless foreign genetic material had triggered regenerative pathways.

Her brain was already racing.

She looked back at Natasha.

"You understand," Sue said slowly, "that if this is real, if this is viable, this changes everything."

"I know."

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sue inhaled deeply and nodded.

"Okay," she said.

Natasha's shoulders loosened slightly.

"There's a room," Sue continued. "It's not on the official blueprints my father designed it years ago as a containment observation chamber. We never registered it with the city. It's small. No windows. But it's shielded, and it doesn't show up on the building blueprints."

Natasha's eyes flickered with cautious hope.

"You can stay there," Sue said. "Off the record. We'll limit who knows. I'll run tests myself. We'll figure out exactly what's happening."

Natasha let out a breath she'd clearly been holding. "Thank you," she said quietly.

She stepped forward before Sue could react and pulled her into a tight embrace.

Sue stiffened for half a second, then returned it. "Don't thank me yet," Sue murmured. "In truth? I'm as invested in this as you are. This isn't just about protection. It's a biological anomaly. I want to understand it."

Natasha huffed a faint laugh against her shoulder. "That's the Sue I know."

Sue pulled back. "We'll handle SHIELD," she said. "We'll handle the science. And we'll make sure your baby is safe."

Natasha searched her face for a moment, then nodded.  "Okay," she said and for the first time since she'd stepped out of the shadows, she smiled.

_____________________________________

Mark flew west through the cold air with jessica in his arms, one hand under her knees and the other behind her back, keeping his body angled slightly forward so the wind hit his shoulders instead of her face. The sky was clear and pale, the city shrinking behind them as buildings gave way to trees and long stretches of road. Jessica gripped the front of his suit with both hands and looked up at him with a hard stare that did not fade.

"I still can't believe you wouldn't let me drive myself here," she said, raising her voice over the wind. "I have a car. It has four wheels and everything. I even know how to use it weirdly enough."

Mark adjusted his grip slightly as they crossed over a highway lined with bare trees and houses. "You're the one who insisted on coming along," he replied. "I told you I could handle this solo."

"Yeah," Jessica shot back, narrowing her eyes, "and that's exactly why I came. To keep you out of trouble. Which you clearly need."

Mark let out a short laugh. "When have I ever gotten in trouble?"

Jessica didn't answer. She just stared at him without blinking.

Mark kept his eyes forward swallowing slightly as a bead of sweat formed on his forehead. 

"I bet you wouldn't be carrying Luke like this if he was the one coming with you," she added.

Mark laughed louder this time. "Luke isn't as pretty as you are."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "I forgot you had a thing for maidens in distress."

"Let me know when the maiden shows up," Mark said, grinning down at her.

Jessica flexed her right hand and looked at his jaw, then glanced at the ground far below. 

She chose not to swing, but it was a close thing. 

Mark noticed the pout forming on her lips. "Jesssss," he said, dragging her name out.

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away toward the trees and rooftops below. "And never say my name like that again..."

Westchester County came into view ahead of them, and within seconds the grounds of the Xavier Institute appeared. The mansion stood large and white with tall windows across the front and wide stone steps leading up to double doors. The lawn stretched out in every direction, trimmed short, with smaller buildings set off to the sides. Groups of children moved across the courtyard. Some ran in circles. Some tossed a frisbee back and forth. Others sat on benches with books open on their laps. A cluster of teenagers stood near the steps talking and laughing.

Mark angled downward and descended in a circle before lowering himself to the center of the courtyard. His boots touched the grass and he released Jessica carefully onto her feet.

The closest kids froze for half a second.

Then the noise hit all at once.

"Invincible!"

"Oh my God, it's really him!"

"Invincible is here!"

Children ran toward him from every direction. Teenagers pulled out their phones and started recording. A boy no older than ten ran up and stopped two feet away, staring up with wide eyes. 

Jessica stepped back and crossed her arms, watching the crowd build around him with a small grin.

Mark rubbed the back of his neck and gave an awkward smile. "Hey, everyone. Uh, I'm actually looking for Professor Xavier. Does anyone know where I can find him?"

No one answered.

A girl with braids pushed forward and held up her phone. "Can I get a picture? Please?"

Another boy jumped in place. "You saved my cousin in Queens last month! He won't stop talking about it!"

Jessica laughed and turned toward the mansion steps. "Have fun with your fan club, hero."

Mark reached toward her. "Jess, come on. A little help?"

She glanced back over her shoulder. "You never get yourself into trouble, right? Handle it."

Mark sighed and turned back to the kids. "Okay, okay. Pictures first. Then autographs. Try to line up if you can." The children shuffled around and formed a loose line. Mark knelt down so the smaller ones could reach him and lifted two kids at once, one on each arm. They laughed and grabbed onto his shoulders while phones clicked all around them. He smiled for every photo, even when his cheeks started to ache.

The front doors of the mansion opened and a dark skinned woman with white hair stepped out onto the top step. Her white hair fell past her shoulders and she wore a long blue coat over jeans and boots. She paused for a moment, looking over the courtyard and the crowd gathered around Mark.

One of the older students turned toward her. "Ms. Munroe! Invincible is here! The actual superhero!"

Ororo walked down the steps at a slow pace and stopped a few feet from Mark. The children shifted aside to make room.

Mark set the two kids down gently. "Sorry about the commotion," he said. "I didn't mean to cause a scene."

"It's no problem, it's clear to see the children are excited. I am Ororo Munroe," she said. "It is not every day that a hero lands in our courtyard. May I ask why you are here?"

Mark straightened up, clearly relieved to be speaking to an adult. "I need to talk to Professor Xavier. It's important."

Ororo looked at him for a moment, then paused as she seemed to look off into the distance, she nodded a few times to herself before she looked back up at Mark. "Charles will see you."

She turned to the children. "Everyone back to class. That is enough for now."

The kids groaned but started moving toward the doors. A few waved at Mark as they passed. He waved back.

Ororo gestured toward the entrance. "Follow me."

Mark fell into step beside her and walked up the wide stone steps and through the double doors. Inside, the foyer opened into a long hallway with high ceilings, wood-paneled walls, and framed portraits spaced evenly along both sides. Light from the windows fell across the polished floor and doors lined the hallway, some open, others closed.

"This place is bigger than I thought," Mark said, looking down one of the corridors. "I figured it would be smaller. Maybe a dozen students."

"We do not turn away those who need help," Ororo replied. "Students come here to learn how to control their abilities. Some stay for years. Some leave when they are ready."

"So everyone here is a mutant?" Mark asked.

"All of the students are," she said. "A few members of the staff are not. But yes, the majority are."

They reached a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Ororo pushed them open. The office inside was large, with bookshelves covering two walls from floor to ceiling. A desk stood in the center with stacks of papers arranged neatly across its surface. Behind the desk sat Charles Xavier in his wheelchair, dressed in a dark sweater. 

Mark stepped into the room. Ororo closed the doors behind them.

Charles looked up and met Mark's eyes. "Invincible," he said. "Welcome to the Xavier Institute."

Mark shifted his weight slightly where he stood just inside the office door, then gave a small, respectful nod. "Professor Xavier," he replied. "Thanks for seeing me."

Charles' expression softened into an easy smile. "Please," he said, folding his hands loosely on the desk in front of him, "call me Charles."

Mark hesitated for a brief second, as if the name felt too informal in his mouth, then nodded again. "Right. Charles. Thank you... Charles."

From the side of the room, Ororo Munroe stood with her hands clasped behind her back, watching the exchange quietly. Charles turned his head slightly in her direction.

"I see you have already met Miss Munroe," he said. "She is one of our teachers, and one of our finest."

Mark glanced over at Ororo and offered her a quick smile. "Yeah, we met outside. She handled the crowd way better than I did."

Ororo returned the smile, small but genuine. "You managed admirably," she said. "They are not easily contained."

Charles gestured toward the chair positioned in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat."

Mark stepped forward and lowered himself into the chair and rested his forearms on his knees for a moment before straightening slightly.

Charles regarded him calmly. "Now then," he said, "how may we help you today?"

Mark drew in a breath and let it out slowly. He glanced once at Ororo, then back at Charles. "I didn't come here for a social visit unfortunately," he began. "I need information, about some dangerous people, but let me start from the beginning. A few weeks ago there was an incident at the Marriott in Manhattan. It was destroyed. The explosion was caused by a mutant. His name was Samir."

Charles' expression did not change.

"He wasn't acting alone," Mark continued. "Through him I learned about a group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Mutants."

At the mention of the name, both Charles and Ororo reacted, though subtly. Ororo's shoulders stiffened, and Charles' hands tightened slightly atop his desk. The shift was small, but Mark caught it immediately.

"You know them," Mark said quietly.

Charles exchanged a brief look with Ororo. She gave him a slight nod.

"Please," Charles said gently. "Go on."

Mark nodded. "At the Marriott, I also ran into another mutant who called himself the Blob. I'm pretty sure that's not his real name, but that's what he used. He was part of the same group. Big guy. Extremely strong. Hard to move."

Charles inclined his head slightly. "Yes. That sounds like him."

Mark continued, leaning forward now. "Then in New Mexico I was attacked by another one. He called himself Juggernaut. He was... strong doesn't even cover it. He hit like a truck. There was also someone else there. I didn't get a clear look at them, but they were opening portals and managed to help Juggernaut escape before I could question him."

Ororo's gaze shifted to Charles again.

Charles remained silent for a moment with a thoughtful smile expression on his face. He sat there with his fingers lightly pressed together and his eyes lowered. After several seconds, he looked up at Ororo once more. She gave him another small nod.

"This is a troubling development," Charles said at last.

Mark nodded quickly. "That's why I came. I don't know much about mutants. I found one of your papers online about mutation and genetic divergence. It was... interesting," he admitted, "but it made sense. I figured if anyone would know more, it'd be you."

Charles' lips curved faintly. "You have come to the right place, Invincible. However," he added, his tone shifting slightly, "If you are looking for good news, I am afraid you will not find it here."

Mark frowned at that.

Charles reached to the side of his desk and activated a large wall-mounted screen. He inserted a small memory stick into the computer terminal beneath it. After a few seconds, a series of files opened across the display; photographs, dossiers, and scrolling text.

Mark leaned forward in his chair.

He immediately recognized two faces. "There," he said, pointing. "That's Blob. And that's Juggernaut." Though the other profiles were unfamiliar to him.

Charles maneuvered his chair slightly so he could face both the screen and Mark. "The Brotherhood of Mutants has existed in various forms for many years," he began. "They operate largely in secrecy, though occasionally they step into the light when it suits their purpose. Their membership shifts over time, but certain individuals have remained constant."

He gestured toward the first image.

"Fred Dukes," Charles said. "Also known as the Blob. Enhanced strength, near-impenetrable skin, and a mass that makes him exceptionally difficult to move once he plants himself."

The screen shifted.

"Cain Marko. The Juggernaut. Technically not a mutant himself, though he has aligned with them on several occasions. His power is mystical in origin. Once he builds momentum, very little can stop him."

The next profile appeared.

"Illyana Rasputina. Magik. She possesses the ability to generate portals through space and, in some instances, across dimensions."

Mark nodded slowly. "She must've been the one in New Mexico."

Another face appeared.

"Pyro," Charles continued. "He can manipulate existing flames, though he cannot create them himself."

"Toad," Ororo added quietly from the side. "Enhanced agility and a prehensile tongue."

The next image lingered longer.

A woman with red hair, a beautiful face and blue skin stared back from the screen.

"Mystique," Charles said.

Mark studied the photograph.

"Raven Darkhölme," Charles went on. "A shape-shifter capable of mimicking any human form down to the smallest detail. Voice, appearance, fingerprints. She has operated as a spy, an assassin, and an infiltrator for decades."

Ororo's voice grew firmer. "She is patient. Calculating. And deeply loyal to the Brotherhood's cause."

Mark shifted in his seat. "That's... not great."

The final profile appeared.

An older man with a helmet and a scowl filled the screen.

"Erik Lehnsherr," Charles said quietly. "Also known as Magneto."

Mark looked between the image and Charles. "He's the leader."

"Yes," Charles replied. "He commands control over magnetic fields. He can manipulate metal on a massive scale. His power is formidable to say the least."

Mark leaned back slightly. "What do they want?"

Charles' expression grew more severe. "The Brotherhood believes that mutants are the rightful inheritors of this world," he said. "They see humanity as a threat to mutant survival. This mostly stems from Erik, who has lived through unimaginable persecution. His early life was marked by suffering and violence at the hands of those who feared difference. That pain shaped his worldview. He does not believe coexistence is possible."

Charles paused briefly.

"I, however, believe the opposite. Mutants are the next step in human evolution, yes, but we are not separate from humanity. We are part of it. We must learn to live together, or we will destroy each other."

Mark nodded slowly. "I agree. I just... I don't understand why they're stepping into the open now. If they've been operating in the shadows this whole time, why start blowing up hotels and attacking people in broad daylight?"

Charles' brow furrowed slightly. "I do not know. And that uncertainty concerns me greatly."

Silence settled over the room for a moment.

Mark finally pushed himself up from the chair. "You've been really helpful," he said. "Would it be possible to get a copy of this information? Just the basics. Names, faces."

Charles nodded. "Of course." He removed the memory stick, inserted another, and transferred several files before handing it across the desk.

Mark accepted it carefully. "Thanks."

Charles looked up at him again. "Mark," he said, his tone shifting to something warmer, "I want you to know that your work has not gone unnoticed. You have done a great deal to build trust between mutants and humans, whether you realize it or not."

Mark hesitated. "Actually... I'm not a mutant."

Charles smiled faintly. "It does not matter. Many believe you are. And perception can be powerful. When young mutants see you standing beside ordinary citizens and protecting them, they see someone like themselves being accepted. That makes a large difference."

Charles moved his wheelchair around from behind the desk and stopped in front of Mark. "Many of the children who come here feel ashamed," he continued. "They believe they are freaks. Outcasts. They fear they will never be accepted. But since you first appeared, some of them have found hope. They see you out in the open, they see you help people, and they think perhaps they can do the same. They want to be like you."

Mark felt his throat tighten slightly. Of all the things people had said to him since he became a hero that was the one that hit the hardest, the one that made him feel like all the pain that came with being a hero was worth it. 

He smiled. "Thank you, Charles," he said quietly.

Charles returned the smile. "You are most welcome." He gestured toward the door. "Would you care for a tour? I suspect many of our students would be delighted to meet you properly."

Mark glanced toward the shelves, the hallway beyond, and then back at Charles. He thought about the kids outside and considered whether he should. Then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "I'd like that."

Mark followed Charles out of the office, and as soon as they stepped into the main hallway the sound of the school came back in. Ororo walked beside Charles with her hands behind her back, and Mark stayed on the other side, looking around while he tried not to stare too long at any one student, because every time he did someone noticed and then the whispering started again.

Students passed them in small groups, some with books held to their chests, others with backpacks hanging off one shoulder, and a few with their heads bent close as they talked in quiet voices, but even the ones trying to act normal still glanced at Mark, then looked away fast, then glanced again like they couldn't help it. A boy with dark hair and thick glasses whispered something to a girl walking next to him, and she turned, saw Mark, and froze for half a second before tugging her friend forward again.

Charles noticed the attention and didn't react to it, he just kept moving at a slow pace due to his wheel chair, and when they reached a large classroom on the right he lifted one hand and gestured toward it.

"This is one of our foundation rooms," Charles said. "We teach basic control here. Younger students learn how to use their abilities without hurting themselves or anyone else, once they do that they'll eventually learn how to apply the same skills with more finesse."

Mark leaned in toward the open door and looked inside. A teacher stood at the front near a whiteboard, showing different concentration techniques, and a dozen kids sat at desks with their eyes narrowed in concentration as they tried to copy it. Pencils floated above tabletops at different heights, some people burst flames or ice from their palms while others had strange effects that Mark couldn't see Collin

Mark nodded. "That's good. I wish I'd had someone helping me along when I first got my powers."

"That's what we try to do here, teach that there is no fear only ignorance, once you fully understand and can control your power, you'll realise that they are as central to you as your own beating heart." Charles continued down the hall, and Mark fell back into step, looking ahead now as the corridor widened.

"The school began small," Charles said. "At first it was a private residence, with only a handful of students, but we expanded over time, we added dormitories, training spaces, more classrooms, and more staff, as more and more mutants started to appear the need grew and we could not ignore it. The goal has always stayed the same, to give young mutants a safe place where they can learn who they are without worry of being persecuted."

Mark looked down the hall at another cluster of students moving between rooms, and he nodded again. "That makes sense. Back where I'm from a lot of people who get powers usually end up turning to villainy, though to be fair where I lived the social programs weren't exactly stellar."

Ororo spoke without turning her head. "We try to prevent that here. Education matters. Support matters. Having a place that feels like home matters."

They reached a turn and moved into a spacious common area that opened up from the hallway, the layout changed right away, couches were pushed against the walls, a pool table sat in the center, and a large television played a cartoon. Several teenagers were spread around the room, some sitting on the couch, some standing near the pool table with cues in their hands, and two were arguing near a snack machine. The moment they noticed Mark, the room shifted, backs straightened, eyes widened, and one girl dropped her phone on the floor with a clack that made everyone look.

"Hey guys..." Mark lifted his hand in a small wave, unsure what else to do, and a few of them waved back, half excited and half nervous, like they weren't sure if they were hallucinating or not.

Before Charles could say anything, a door at the far end of the common area opened, and two men stepped through with someone between them.

A shorter man came out first with a leather jacket and wild hair with sideburns, behind him was a taller man with more sensible hair and a strange visor. Between them was Jessica, and even from across the room Mark could tell she was furious, she was glaring at both of them like she was deciding which one to hit first. Wolverine had her left arm, Cyclops had her right.

Charles stopped in place. Ororo stopped beside him. Mark slowed too, hoping this wasnt going to be a problem.

"Logan," Charles said. "Scott. What is this?"

Wolverine jerked his head toward Jessica without letting go. "Found her sniffin' around the lower levels," he said. "Near the sub-basement access. She says she's with him." He nodded toward Mark.

Cyclops adjusted his stance as he looked towards rhem. "She refused to explain what she was doing down there," he said. "We thought it was better to bring her to you."

Mark crossed his arms and looked straight at Jessica. "Getting into trouble again, Jess?"

Jessica snapped her head toward him. "If I could reach you right now, I'd punch you in the throat."

Mark lifted both hands in surrender and then turned toward Charles. "Sorry. This is Jessica Jones. She came with me. She doesn't trust anyone on principle, so she probably decided the first thing to do was find the most restricted part of the building."

Jessica yanked her arms slightly, not enough to break free, but enough to make the point. "I was checking if this was a trap. Something that bozo over there is too brain dead to do."

Wolverine snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Charles raised one hand. "It is fine," he said with a smile. "Logan. Scott. Release her. She is a guest."

Wolverine let go first, but he was only doing it because Charles said so and not because he agreed, and Cyclops released her a second later. Jessica rubbed her wrists and stepped back.

Wolverine walked straight toward Mark and stopped inches away. Mark held his ground and raised an eyebrow to him. Wolverine leaned in and sniffed near Mark's shoulder.

"You smell weird, bub," Wolverine said.

Mark blinked, then lifted his own arm and sniffed his sleeve. "I showered this morning."

Wolverine grunted, turned, and walked off without explaining himself, pushing through the common area.

Cyclops exhaled through his nose and looked at Mark. "Don't take it personally," he said. "Logan doesn't like many people."

Mark extended his hand anyway. "No offense taken. I'm Invincible."

Cyclops shook his hand. "Scott Summers," he said. "Good to meet you."

Jessica cut in before the handshake even finished. "Do you have what you needed?" she asked Mark. "Or are we moving in?"

Mark sighed and glanced at Charles. "Sorry about her..."

Charles didn't look bothered, he just studied Jessica for a moment without her saying anything else, then he turned his attention back to Mark, but before he could say anything else a sudden shout broke out across the common area.

A teenage boy burst in from a side hallway, breathing hard with his hair messed up like he'd run the whole way. He stopped in front of Charles and spoke fast, words crashing into each other. "Professor! Anna's in trouble," he said. "She's out on the lake. Michael thought it'd be funny to sink her boat, he used his powers to throw a stone, it hit the bottom and it started taking on water, but she can't swim, she can't swim!"

Charles' face changed right away, his calm expression morphing into a frown, one that Ororo shared as she turned toward the nearest exit.

Mark stepped forward before anyone else could, his voice simple. "I'll handle it, if you don't mind."

Charles opened his mouth. "Invincible I do not think that's—"

Mark didn't wait, he already blurred away before Charles could even finish the sentence. 

Jessica watched him go through the glass and shook her head. "What is it, is she a man hater or something?" she asked, looking back at Charles.

Charles didn't look away from the window for a second. "Anna Marie has a dangerous ability," he said to Jessica. "Skin contact drains life force from anyone she touches. Energy. Memories. Vitality. Prolonged contact can kill. She has lived in isolation because of it."

Jessica's mouth tightened. "So she's drowning and nobody can grab her."

Ororo's eyes were on the grounds beyond the building. "A few people can help, I'll go and find Jean now Professor," she said.

...

Outside, Mark flew over the lawn, passing over trees, the paths and a small dock. Until he reached the lake. Almost immediately he noticed it, near the center, a small rowboat listed to one side as water poured through a hole near the bottom. A girl clung to the side of it, her head barely above the surface, even from this distance Mark could see panic on her face.

Mark dropped fast and flew just above the surface of the water, reaching her in meee seconds. He then wrapped one arm around the girl's waist and lifted her up and then he rose out of the lake with her in his arms.

The girl coughed hard, sputtered, and then jerked as soon as she realized she was being held. Her eyes went even wider, and her whole body went rigid in panic. "No...no, don't!" she gasped. "Let me go! Please, you gotta let me go!"

Mark kept his grip on her as he kept them in the air above the lake. "Hey," he said, "you're okay. I've got you."

She started fighting him, twisting and shoving at his arms, trying to pull away even though it meant falling back into the water. "No!" she cried. "You don't understand! Ah'll kill you! Ah'll... please, just let go!"

Mark shifted his hold so her back was supported and her head stayed up, and then he brought one hand up and touched her cheek with it to try and calm her down. "Look at me," he said. "Breathe. You're safe. Nobody's hurt."

The girl froze at the touch, the moment skin met skin she expected the pull, the drain, the reaction she knew too well. Her breathing hitched, then slowed as she stared into his eyes. Her panic didn't vanish, but it stopped driving her body. "How..." she whispered,. "How're you still standin' there? Ah touched you. Ah touched you, and you ain't—" She swallowed hard. "You ain't droppin'."

Mark didn't move away. "You're Anna, right?"

Her eyes flicked. "Yeah," she said. "Anna Marie. But folks... folks call me Rogue."

"Okay," Mark said. "Rogue, look I'm fine, nothings happening."

Rogue stared at him like she was waiting for the moment he'd suddenly go limp, and when it didn't happen she shook her head fast. "That ain't possible," she said. "Ah drain people. Ah take it all. Every time. Ah don't mean to, but it happens, and they pass out, and sometimes they don't wake up, so...so you can't be standin' here talkin' to me like this."

Mark nodded, and for a moment he focused inwards feeling out his body or more specifically the parts of his body that were connected to her. She was right. He could feel her trying to drain energy from his body, but the moment she did his power activated and drained it right back, effectively cancelling it out. "I see," he said. It also seemed that because of the difference between Viltrumite and Human biology, she was effectively trying to drain a lake with a bucket. "You don't need to worry Rogue, I have a similar power to you and it seems that we sort of cancel each other out, it's why I'm not feeling any effect." He explained with a smile. 

Rogue's eyes dropped to his hand still on her cheek, then to the way his fingers weren't shaking, then back to his face, and her throat worked as she tried to make sense of it.

Mark looked toward the shore. "We should get you out of the cold."

He flew them toward land, keeping her close so she didn't panic again, and within seconds the shoreline came up under them. He lowered them onto the grass near the path that led back to the mansion, and set her down on her feet.

Rogue stood there, dripping, boots sinking slightly into the wet ground. Then she looked back up at Mark, eyes still wide but now mixed with something else. "Can Ah..." she started, and her voice trembled as she forced the words out. "Can Ah hold your hand? Just... just for a minute?"

Mark raised an eyebrow, but he didn't hesitate long. He extended his hand. "Sure."

Rogue took it slowly, like she was handling something fragile, and her fingers wrapped around his, skin to skin. 

She waited.

But nothing happened.

No pull, no rush, no pain, no collapse.

Her grip tightened, then loosened again, and her mouth opened in a small, shaky laugh that sounded like she didn't know how to make the sound anymore. "Oh my god," she whispered. "This is the first time in years Ah touched somebody and didn't hurt 'em."

Mark smiled though there was a little sadness mixed in with it. 

Rogue kept holding on, blinking fast. "Ah been so scared of it," she said quietly. "Ah been so damn scared."

"We can talk about it later," Mark said. "Right now we get you back, I'm sure everybody's worried about you."

Rogue nodded, still holding his hand like she didn't want to let go, and they started walking back toward the mansion together. When they reached the front lawn, the group was already there. Charles was at the front, Ororo and Scott on either side of him, and Jessica paced a few steps away with her arms crossed.

Mark lifted his free hand as he approached. "She's okay," he called out. "She's fine."

Charles' shoulders eased slightly, and Ororo moved forward to Rogue at once, her face softening.

Rogue looked down, then back up. "He saved me," she said. Ororo put a hand on Rogue's shoulder, careful not to touch her skin directly, then paused when she noticed Rogue's bare hand still linked with Mark's.

Ororo's eyes widened a little, and Scott's head turned wuickly. Jessica stopped pacing and walked up fast. She grabbed Mark's arm and looked him over, eyes moving across his face, his neck, his hands. "You good?" she asked. "No weird energy drain thing? No passing out?"

Mark let her check him without pulling away. "I'm fine," he said. "Completely fine."

Rogue looked at Jessica, then at Mark, and then she finally released his hand like she was forcing herself to do it. She still flexed her fingers, staring at them.

Ororo kept her hand on Rogue's shoulder now. "Are you hurt?" she asked.

Rogue shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said. "Ah'm okay. Just cold."

Charles wheeled forward until he was directly in front of Mark. "Invincible," he said, "thank you."

Mark waved it off quickly. "It's nothing," he said. "I mean, it's not nothing, but you know what I mean."

Scott glanced toward the lake, then back to Rogue. "Where's Michael?" he asked in a displeased tone.

Rogue flinched at the name.

Ororo's eyes narrowed. "We will address that," she said.

Jessica leaned closer to Mark and spoke under her breath. "So what, she can't drain you?"

Mark glanced at Rogue before answering. "Seems like it," he said quietly. "She touched me and nothing happened."

He looked at the sky, then back at Charles. "I should probably go," he added. "I've already been here a lot longer than I planned."

Jessica didn't argue, she just nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Let's get out of here before something else happens."

Mark turned toward Charles. "Thanks again," he said. "For the info. For the time. For not throwing me out when Sherlock over here decided to break in."

Charles smiled. "The door is always open," he said. "you are welcome here as well Jessica."

Mark stepped closer to Jessica, then bent and scooped her into his arms before she could protest properly. She grumbled, but she wrapped her arms around his neck anyway. He lifted off from the lawn and rose into the air, the mansion dropped away beneath them as they moved up and out over the trees. The students on the lawn watched, and a few waved, Mark waved back with one hand while the other kept Jessica held close.

Rogue stood near Ororo and Scott, her wet hair stuck to her cheeks, her hands down at her sides, her eyes followed the blue-and-white figure until he was only a small shape against the sky and then gone. Her fingers curled once, remembering the feel of a hand she could hold without fear, for the first time in years she remembered what it felt like to feel the warmth of someone's hand.

_____________________________________

Mystique walked down the main corridor ger boots tapping softly against the polished floor as she passed clusters of new recruits gathered along the walls and near open training rooms. Some wore mismatched street clothes, others had already adopted pieces of Brotherhood gear, jackets with symbols stitched onto the shoulders or belts loaded with equipment.

Eyes followed her.

Of course they did.

Mystique didn't need to look at them directly to know. She could feel the shift in posture, the whispers, the sideways glances that lingered. She had long since gotten used to men seeing her as an object of desire. Not only was she beautiful and exotic looking in her regular form, but she also possessed the ability to take on any number of different forms. 

In short she was their wet dream..

Both men and women. 

She kept her expression neutral as she walked, though her mind remained active. 'Like any of them will ever get the chance...' she smirked. 

She passed a training room where two mutants sparred under Pyro's supervision. Farther down, mothman hung upside down from a ceiling beam while arguing with a recruit.

Mystique didn't slow down. 

She rounded a corner and nearly walked straight into Toad and Blob.

Blob leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his massive torso, while Toad crouched beside him, balancing easily on the balls of his feet. Both of them looked up as she approached, the smirks appeared almost immediately. "Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," Toad said, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm.

Blob chuckled. "Heard you've been busy," he added. "Real busy."

Mystique stopped in front of them, one brow lifting slightly. "If you're trying to say something, say it."

Toad grinned wider. "Oh, we heard stories. You getting close to certain people. Playing nice. Getting real friendly."

Blob snorted. "Yeah. Real friendly."

Mystique's lips curved faintly, though there was no warmth in the expression. "You two spend an impressive amount of time worrying about other people's lives," she said. "It's almost heartwarming."

Blob pushed off the wall. "We're just curious," he said. "You out there playing house while we're stuck here doing the heavy lifting."

Mystique tilted her head. "Heavy lifting," she repeated. "That's an interesting way to describe leaning against walls and running your mouth."

Toad barked out a laugh. 

Mystique's gaze shifted to Blob. "And you," she continued calmly, "shouldn't be throwing comments about other people's personal lives when you likely haven't seen your own cock since childhood."

For a second, silence hit. Then Toad burst into laughter, doubling over and slapping the wall. "Oh, that was brutal."

Blob's face darkened. "You think you're funny?"

Toad straightened, still chuckling. "She's not wrong."

Mystique didn't wait for a comeback. She stepped past them without another word and continued down the corridor, their muttered insults fading behind her.

'Predictable,' she thought. 'Always predictable.'

The hallway narrowed as she approached the inner sanctum, security panels were embedded in the walls and a reinforced door standing open ahead. Two guards stepped aside without question when they saw her, and she moved through into a chamber that felt markedly different from the rest of the base.

The room was wide with a raised platform at the far end, steps leading upward toward a central space where metal structures hung suspended in the air. At the stop sitting on something that could only be described as a Throne. 

Magneto waited.

Mystique slowed as she approached the steps, her posture straightening instinctively. Even after years of working beside him, standing in front of Magneto always made her feel uneasy. It wasn't fear exactly, but something close enough that her instincts recognized it immediately.

She stopped at the base of the platform.

Magneto turned toward her, his expression unreadable. "Raven," he said. "I trust you have a report."

Mystique lifted her chin slightly. "Progress is going well," she replied. "I've secured access to the Baxter Building and my cover remains intact."

Magneto hummed quietly. "And the GeoCore Stabilizer?"

Mystique shook her head once. "I haven't managed to get close yet. But I've discovered the device is protected by layered fail-safes. Without Reed Richards' authorization or Franklin Srorms access, any forced attempt would trigger a defensive shutdown and permanently disable the system."

Magneto's expression hardened. "Unacceptable."

Mystique stood there in silence like a child being punished. 

Magneto descended one step. "Are you able to access the room where it is housed?"

"Not yet," she replied. "But I will be able to soon."

Magneto stopped midway down the steps, studying her for a moment before nodding. "Good," he said. "I do not believe I need to remind you how important that device is to our plans."

Mystique remained silent.

Magneto continued downward until he stood only a few feet away, metal fragments from the surrounding structures drifting slightly in the air around him as if responding to his presence. "I am a patient man," he said. "I understand timing. Opportunity must be seized, not forced. We will wait for the moment when acquisition becomes inevitable."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"And when that moment arrives," he continued, "the world will finally understand what it means to fear mutantkind."

The game was finally beginning to unfold.