Chapter 51

Early August, 2016

Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

Dr Mai Nguyen was good at her job. She'd blitzed through her medical degree and psychiatry residency in record time, attained a fellowship in child and adolescent psychiatry, and gained a PhD, all by the age of twenty seven.

She'd then quietly made a name for herself as the go-to woman for high-profile, difficult, and confidential cases. It wasn't that she set out to find the most complex clients, it had just… happened. She was a natural born therapist, with vast reserves of empathy, communication skills honed in a difficult childhood of her own, and the ability to be calm in the face of horrific trauma. She was also exceptionally good at breaking down barriers with even the most resistant of clients, gaining their trust and keeping it. And above all: she kept her mouth shut. She'd worked with clients in the upper echelons of political and social power, she'd worked with mob bosses and business magnates and celebrities – and children of all of the above. And not a word of their brush with therapy had entered public knowledge, save for when they themselves chose to reveal it.

Dr Nguyen was used to NDAs by now, but the sheer number that Stark Industries and the Avengers were having her sign and swear to right now was getting a little ridiculous. Maybe alone they would have been okay, but the endless piles of paperwork were accompanied by security briefings, media briefings, personal safety briefings… so many briefings.

Eventually, they'd decided she'd jumped through enough hoops, and they gave her an unlabeled thin manila folder. Exhausted by the rigmarole of paperwork, Dr Nguyen flipped it open, and finally realized what all the fuss was about.

Oh.

It took Dr Nguyen a few days to go through the file, even though it was small. Even the minimal information included suggested dozens of things to unpack: early orphaning, witnessing the deaths of parents at an early age, kidnapping, brainwashing, torture, forced assassination… the list went on.

Dr Nguyen didn't believe in a hopeless client – she'd been able to help too many 'hopeless clients' to be so naïve. But this file made her wonder. Tragedy compounded upon tragedy, mixed up with superheros and powers and global forces that even she, with her high IQ and multiple degrees, struggled to comprehend.

On the day of the appointment, Dr Nguyen readied herself in her assigned office; she went over her notes one last time before putting them away (no one liked to feel like they were being studied when they opened up), and slipped into the zen state that had gotten her this far in her career – nothing could shock her, there was only her mind and the solution.

The office itself was nice, arranged as per her specifications – a few comfortable seats arranged around the room, a low coffee table, a window with good view of the outside world and plenty of sunlight. The Facility itself was very impressive, ultra-modern and sleek, so she was surprised they'd been able to provide her with such a comfortable space.

A few moments later, there came a knock at the door and in walked Margaret Stark. She wore pale grey scrubs, a pair of white shoes, and a metal bracelet on her arm with a green LED light on it. Dr Nguyen knew the bracelet's function, had been told the phrase to make it go off and shut down her client. She already knew she'd never use it.

Dr Nguyen tried not to come into a room with set expectations. That being said, she'd had some preconceived ideas about Ms Stark: she'd been anticipating rage, reluctance, paralyzing depression, maybe even violence.

But what she got was a woman who paused at the door, gave her a polite greeting, and came to sit on the couch opposite her. Her eyes were bright and her movements measured, as if she was very conscious of being watched, but not unsettled.

"Thank you for coming on short notice," Ms Stark said, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. Dr Nguyen noticed that she had a binder resting on her lap, and she was anxiously tapping the top of it.

"It's no trouble at all," Dr Nguyen replied, smiling at the woman. She kept her posture loose, but she was watching the other woman closely for any signs of aggression or falsehood.

"I hear you're quite qualified," Ms Stark said, returning a friendly smile. "M.D., PhD., fellowship, published in plenty of notable journals. I have to admit I'm a bit jealous."

Dr Nguyen cocked her head. "I don't think you came here to discuss my degrees." Because she'd just realized something that the file certainly hadn't mentioned: Ms Stark had requested this appointment.

The other woman smiled sheepishly. "I guess you're right. Maybe we could circle back to it later." With that, she lifted the binder from her lap and placed it on the low table between them. She flicked it open, and Dr Nguyen frowned down at what looked like… a table of contents?

"This is a list of things I'd like to discuss," Ms Stark said, suddenly all business. "It's itemized by relevance to the current state of my mental health, relevance to the health of people around me, and things I have nightmares about. I've also included an appendix with therapies I've tried on my own, with some notes about new research I'd like to explore."

Dr Nguyen didn't think there was anything wrong with displaying emotions in front of clients – it often helped to break down barriers. But one emotion that she strictly tried to avoid was surprise, as it tended to alienate clients and make them feel like there was something especially wrong with them. And yet, faced with Ms Stark and her binder of itemized personal demons, she couldn't seem to wipe the look of shock from her face.

Seeing this, Ms Stark smiled sheepishly again and closed the binder. "But of course, you're the expert. Where would you like to start?"

Maggie and her new-found therapist found a good rhythm – they met three times a week, working through Maggie's deep seated trauma and whatever happened to come up in her daily life. Within days Maggie realized that Dr Nguyen now knew more about her than anyone, except for Bucky and Tony. At first the thought made her paranoid, but then she expressed those feelings in their next session and Dr Nguyen talked her through them.

Therapy was difficult, and painful, and sometimes made her nightmares worse, but Maggie knew it was worth it. She was kind of giddy that she was able to have a psychiatrist like she'd been reading about for two years. And a highly qualified and professional one, at that.

Maggie was focusing on her mental health again, but she was also acutely aware of the world beyond the Avengers Facility. Public furore was still raging over the news, but there hadn't been any tangible progress – Ross held periodic press conferences to explain that the Accords committee and the State Department were very busy dealing with recent events, and that they'd alert the public when more progress was made. Basically, as Tony frustratedly huffed out one night, they weren't doing anything. Stark Industries was functioning as per usual, and the Avengers were working out how to protect people with only a three-man team. The media was left to continue to postulate wildly, with no more information.

A few weeks after Ross's press conference, a bigger story than Maggie hit the world when King T'Challa took his place in front of the United Nations and gave a speech about unity.

Maggie and Tony were arguing over the circuitry in Mark II of Rhodey's exosuit when F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke up: "Boss, Ms Stark – I think you'll want to see this."

Half an hour later, Tony was looking through the initial cache of data that Wakanda had released to the world – demographic details about Wakanda, goals for diplomatic outreach, and data about technology the like of which the rest of the earth had never seen.

"Son of a bitch," he eventually breathed. He hadn't said a word in over twenty minutes, and Maggie had been a little worried that he'd forgotten how to speak. "I should've known that suit was far too advanced to come out of a supposedly third world country. What the hell."

Maggie didn't know T'Challa all that well, but she was just as astounded at the revelation about Wakanda's apparent technological wealth. And they'd kept it a secret this whole time.

Shaking her head, she pulled up T'Challa's U.N. address again and watched it with new eyes.

Tony looked over about halfway through, and came to stand beside Maggie.

"We will work to be an example of how we as brothers and sisters on this earth should treat each other," the grave-faced monarch said. "Now, more than ever, the illusions of the vision threaten our very existence. We all know the truth: more connects us than separates us. But in times of great crisis the wise build bridges, while the foolish build barriers. We must find a way to look after one another as if we were one single tribe."

Maggie and Tony were silent for a few moments, standing in the workshop with a wealth of projected holographic knowledge surrounding them. Maggie supposed she ought to feel embarrassed that Wakandan technology far outstripped any tech that she'd conceived of. But she didn't feel embarrassed. She felt excited.

She let out a breath. "This changes everything."

Tony's mouth shut with a snap. "You're damn right," he said, sounding just as overwhelmed as she did. "Let's get started."

August passed at a steady pace. Maggie wasn't an actively kept secret anymore, so she was able to pass around the Facility with a little more ease – she still needed to wear the Manacle and have an escort, but now Facility staff were permitted to see her. Some of them stared at her, but most ignored her and kept on with their work. This wasn't exactly an oddity-free workplace. Dr Erik Selvig in the astrophysics lab shook her hand once without appearing to recognize her, and then put her and Vision to work running data analysis for a recent cosmic event. That had been a good day.

Maggie spent most of her time in the workshop, though she started to eat more and more meals in the Avengers common room with Tony, Pepper, and sometimes Rhodey. Vision joined them for dinner, discussing all sorts of things from philosophy to memes to biochemical engineering as they ate. Pepper was amused each time Maggie got caught up in the conversation and forgot to eat her dinner before it went cold.

Between the workshop, getting to know her brother and his team, and therapy, Maggie fell into a schedule. And she began to realize that she was living a life, odd as it was. She'd started to collect possessions – first the small gifts from Tony and the things she'd liberated from the acquisitions room, but then small things like books, and clothes. After a few weeks Pepper had decided that Maggie really didn't need to be walking around in scrubs all day, and had bought her a few outfits to help her blend in at the Facility a little better.

Maggie had been experimenting with her own clothes for two years, and she quickly gravitated towards her favorites: jeans, colorful shirts, boots, flowy skirts and sundresses, all in warm tones. Her choices seemed to surprise Tony and the others, who'd only ever seen her in tactical gear or prison scrubs, but they quickly adjusted and she ended up having a very interesting session with Dr Nguyen about how valuable it was for her to exert her choice over something as small as her wardrobe.

The stability of her life now was strange – she'd never been able to settle anywhere before. Even with Bucky, she'd only kept what she could carry with her. Now, she could leave things in her room – her cell – and not have to accept the fact that she might never see them again.

Her life was stable, and safe, and she got to see her brother and his friends more or less every day. And yet there was a hole in her heart where Bucky belonged, and she knew it wasn't going away. She didn't want it to go away.

The mission isn't over.

A week or so after Wakanda's entry into the world, Maggie found herself in the gym with Tony and Rhodey. Rhodey was working through exercises prescribed by his physiotherapist, and had decided to multitask by inviting Maggie and Tony along to discuss his new exosuit. It was completed, but he already had some modifications in mind.

Of course, Maggie wasn't being particularly helpful because the minute they'd stepped into the gym she'd been too busy staring around at the equipment.

This was the gym the Avengers trained in, back when there had been more than three Avengers. The space was massive, basically a warehouse. It had all the regular gym equipment such as treadmills and weights (some that were reinforced for enhanced humans and/or alien gods). But that wasn't all – there were trampolines, gymnastic equipment, sparring mats, swings, ramps, pipes, nets, ladders, and towers made of foam and wooden blocks. It was part obstacle course, part playground, and Maggie couldn't drag her eyes away. She and Tony had only spent about a minute in here on her initial tour of the Facility, but they'd been absorbed in conversation at the time. She did recall that he'd said something about it being an American Ninja Warrior gym on steroids, whatever that meant.

"Are you okay, Maggie?"

She blinked and glanced away from the agility climbing course. "Hm?"

Rhodey rolled his eyes at her as he did slow, repetitive movements in his exosuit. "You haven't heard a word we've said, have you?"

Tony crossed his arms, eyebrows raised.

"Sure I have," she said, glancing from Rhodey's exasperated expression to Tony's suspicious one. "You've been telling us what modifications you want for the next exosuit."

Rhodey cocked an eyebrow. "And what modifications do I want?"

"Faster response to your bioelectric impulses," she guessed. "Shock absorption. In-built heaters." She could see she wasn't convincing either of them, so she shrugged and added: "jet propulsion. Leopard print paint job."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Not that that wouldn't be awesome, Rhodey's a stick in the mud and he's hardly going to-"

"Hey now," Rhodey argued, "I'm not the one zoning out and drooling over gym equipment. Do you want to have a look around, Maggie?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can I?"

Tony and Rhodey shared a glance at that. Sometimes they forgot that Maggie had spent most of her life enslaved, physically and mentally. She'd mostly adjusted to become her own person, but occasionally they were reminded of her past when she didn't recognize things most adults did, such as pop culture references and historical events. And sometimes, like now, she lit up with such childlike glee at being allowed to have fun.

"Yeah, go on," Tony said, waving a hand at her. "See if you can come up with something better than jet propulsion while you're at it."

Like a shot Maggie was off, kicking off her shoes before leaping onto a trampoline and springing off it and onto a net ladder. Tony and Rhodey shook their heads at her and went back to discussing the exosuit.

They found themselves distracted a few minutes later when Maggie went flying over their heads with a whoop, doing a somersault before she caught herself on a hanging rope and swung up onto a raised platform. Rhodey's mouth dropped open.

"I guess she figured out the agility course," Tony observed, watching her hurdle over a foam block and then slide through a narrow opening in the climbing structure. He shook his head. "She's just as bad as Clint." The reminder of Clint and his betrayal stung a bit, but it was nice to remember some of his fonder memories of the Avengers.

Rhodey rubbed his jaw. "Y'know, Tony, you pretty much decide where she goes and when. You should think about giving her access to the gym more regularly. She's gotta be climbing the walls stuck in her room all the time."

When Maggie popped out of the top of the climbing structure she saw them looking at her and she waved, her hair strewn across her face and her cheeks pink. She was grinning from ear to ear.

Tony tapped his chest. "That's not a bad idea."

Maggie's schedule shifted to include two hours a day at the gym – she never got bored with the climbing and agility equipment, but sometimes she took out her aggression on a punching bag, or ate away the miles on one of the reinforced treadmills. It was nice to stretch her legs, to work so hard that she felt her muscles burning and her lungs aching for air. Tony had to explain most of the equipment to her, as HYDRA hadn't exactly given her a gym pass back in the day, but once she got the hang of it all she enjoyed it.

Occasionally the exercise brought back memories of being tested by HYDRA, at the beginning – she got flashes of stumbling along a treadmill with wires hanging from her temples and chest, or lifting weights to impress visiting HYDRA lieutenants. But they were only flashes. There was no one testing her here, expecting her to use her strength to hurt people.

Agents at the Facility had access to the gym, but after a few sideways looks they got used to seeing Maggie, in gym clothes with earbuds in, working at one piece of equipment or another. Her speed, strength and reflexes were just as sharp as ever, but the gym was specifically designed for that and she found herself more than challenged. She wondered if Steve had ever felt the same tired relief after using the gym that she did.

She still spent most of her time in the workshop, with Tony or Vision, working on Rhodey's exo-suit and armor. Dum-E and U quickly got used to her presence, but that didn't stop Dum-E being overly affectionate or expecting her to play with him. It seemed that in his mind, she was still a toddler.

Maggie was also intrigued by B.A.R.F. and was working on ways to expand the technology, make it more applicable to publicly available therapies – she'd even asked Dr Nguyen for some ideas, and they'd experimented with using the technology in her sessions. She privately wondered if it might offer a key to removing her trigger words. That had become her secret project, for now too remote a hope to share with Tony or Dr Nguyen. She worked on it alone, in the privacy of her own mind.

She and Tony had also gone through all the data Wakanda had released in less than a day. Wakanda's shock announcement had taken some of the heat off Maggie, though there were still almost daily questions about what was going to happen to her.

Tony reached out to T'Challa, hoping to get a look at Wakandan tech in person, but the king politely replied that Wakanda had carefully planned its engagement with the outside world and such information was going to be released slowly. They were still understandably wary about revealing the extent of their Vibranium caches, and were currently busy building embassies, negotiating the welcome of outsiders, and collaborating with governments and corporations around the world. Stark Industries and Tony Stark would just have to wait, like the rest of the world.

T'Challa had included a more personal note, asking Tony to pass on his reiterated apologies and well-wishes to Maggie.

"Maybe you could get him to spill the goods," Tony suggested one day. "Tell him it's the only way you'll forgive him for the wing thing, or something." Maggie raised an eyebrow, and he grimaced. "Yeah. Too soon, right?"

"Way too soon. Not that I don't forgive him, I know he didn't mean to, but…" she shrugged. "It meant something, Tony. I'm not ready to joke about it."

He was really grimacing now, his fingers tapping at his sternum. "I know, I'm sorry. Bad joke."

"It's okay. Besides, it doesn't seem like T'Challa's the one behind all this tech anyway. It's this person called…" she flicked through a holographic screen of data. "Shuri?"

Tony snapped his fingers. "I meant to tell you, I looked her up! Wakanda still hasn't given out much in the way of demographics but one of the few things the world did know about Wakanda before the U.N. speech was the names of the Wakandan royals. The Chief Scientist is actually…" he flicked a hand, bringing up an image of a girl who couldn't be older than twenty. "Princess Shuri."

Maggie stared at the image of the girl, taking in her bright eyes, mischievous smile, and brightly-colored Wakandan garb. Her hair was bound up in an intricate up-do, braided with orange thread. The photo must have been taken at some kind of diplomatic event, because she was standing beside her late father, her mother, and her brother.

Maggie glanced from the holographic image to the vault of data analysis that she and Tony had been working on, trying to understand Wakanda's initial released information. Whoever was behind that tech was as smart or smarter than Maggie and her brother, with an alternative creative flair that one didn't usually see in engineers.

"I want to meet her," Maggie blurted out. "I want her to be my best friend."

Tony snorted. "Maybe they'll let us visit one day."

They fell silent, simultaneously remembering the state of the world outside the workshop: if Maggie was going anywhere, it wasn't to Wakanda. It was to prison.

But they'd quickly learned how to adapt to the tense state of her existence – it didn't bear stressing about every minute of every day, so they shook off the strained silence and got back to work.

Vision sometimes came to the workshop to help out or work on his own projects, but that wasn't the only place Maggie saw him. He was one of her regular escorts, and she enthusiastically followed him around, asking lots of invasive questions. They got along well, after that first emotional conversation at the breakfast table, and they compared notes on their journeys to become people. Vision was endlessly fascinating to Maggie, and he seemed amused by her quick mind and easy jokes. One day, as Vision was teaching Maggie how to play chess, he smiled at one of her jokes and said: "I think you would get along well with Wanda."

Maggie cocked her head. "She seemed nice, the short time that I knew her. I get the sense she picks up a lot more about the people around her than she lets on."

"Her abilities do not give her the choice," Vision replied, reaching across to move his bishop. "But I have always found it remarkable how she does not seek to use her abilities to harm people. Ever since she became an Avenger, she has been determined to do good." A shadow crossed his face. "The mistake she made in Lagos cost her a great deal."

Maggie moved her knight and then pressed her lips together, watching him. Vision spoke to her about Wanda all the time – she got the sense that he felt uncomfortable discussing her with the other Avengers, and he had very few people to confide in. It was clear how deeply he felt about the Sokovian, and the way her absence haunted him made Maggie's chest ache.

"Have you thought at all about what I asked you, the morning I met you?" He glanced up at her, confused, and she continued. "Is there a place in this world for you and Wanda?"

For all that he was a powerful, omnipresent being, Vision was a terrible liar. At the mention of seeing Wanda again his face closed off and his eyes darted away. His mouth opened, but Maggie already knew that whatever he was about to say would be a lie, so she held up her hand.

"You don't have to tell me," she said. Vision's eyes darted back up to hers guiltily, and she smiled. "Whatever you decide, though… if you're happy, then I'm happy for you."

Vision's tense posture loosened a little, and Maggie smiled. She supposed she ought to feel guilty for encouraging an Avenger to meet up with a traitor to the Accords, but she truthfully wasn't thinking about the Accords at all. She was thinking about the loneliness that flickered in Vision's eyes, and the way his face lit up when he was talking about Wanda Maximoff. She might be living a bit vicariously through him, sure, but she could take that up with Dr Nguyen.

He got over his guilty reaction, and moved his queen. "Checkmate."

Maggie let out a string of curses. "I'm going to set this game on fire."

Vision merely smiled at her, then cocked his head and asked "Are we friends, Maggie?"

"Are we friends?" she echoed, staring at him. She and Vision had clicked so naturally that she hadn't thought to clarify the point. It seemed obvious – she looked forward to spending time with him, and she realized that she trusted him. Vision leaned back a little, his expression falling as her silence stretched, and she held up a hand. "Yes, yes! I'm sorry, I've never… well, I haven't got a lot of experience with friendships."

"I wonder what that's like," Vision replied, recovering from his unease and smiling blandly at her.

She rolled her eyes. "We'll figure it out together. But if we're friends, then I'm allowed to do this." She picked up her defeated king and tossed it at Vision's chest. He let it phase through him and hit the back of the couch, then shot an unimpressed look at her.

"I'm not going to play you in chess until I think I can beat you," she announced. "Do you want to play Scrabble?"

Vision wasn't her only friend. There was Tony, of course, but her relationship with him was complicated, not always friendly but always marked by a deep sense of family.

But it appeared she'd found friends in both Rhodey and Pepper. Pepper was busy more often than not, but she made a point of visiting Maggie at least once a week, to sip wine and talk about anything from art to international corporate agreements, or to go for walks down by the lake. Sometimes Tony hung out with them, but he usually ended up complaining that they were ganging up on him and left in a dramatic sulk. Pepper was kind, and Maggie had had little kindness in her life.

Rhodey was busy with his physiotherapy and slowly getting back to work, but he always had time for Maggie. He joined her in the gym sometimes and they went on the treadmills together, him trudging at the sedate pace recommended by his physiotherapist, and her pushing the reinforced treadmill to its max speeds. At first she matched his pace, showing solidarity, but he threw his water bottle at her and told her to pick up the pace, kid.

A few nights a week Rhodey picked up Maggie from her room and they would sit in the Avengers common room, swaddled in blankets as they watched Netflix and stuffed their mouths with junk food. They watched documentaries about aircraft, and animated kids movies, and enjoyed both equally. Sometimes Rhodey told Maggie about the missions he'd flown, and she listened with the same wide-eyed attention that she'd have given him twenty five years ago.

The section of the Accords that specifically referred to the Avengers stated that as the Avengers were now publicly accountable, they had to hold fortnightly media briefings and answer questions. Those briefings were overseen by Pepper and a team of PR specialists, but they were still painful for the remaining Avengers. In the first few briefings all the questions were about the missing Avengers, and how the remaining three felt about the betrayal. Understandably, they came back from the media briefings pissed-off and upset, even the normally unflappable Vision.

Ever since Maggie's identity had been released, most of the questions at the briefings were about her.

"Mr Stark, how do you feel about your sister being a murderer?"

"Is the Wyvern undergoing psychiatric evaluation?"

"Should we be concerned that the Winter Soldier will come looking for the Wyvern?"

"How do the Avengers expect to convince the world they're protecting us when they're also protecting a serial killer?"

Maggie watched the briefings in her cell, white-knuckled and pale, her eyes fixed on Tony's stony face. He, Rhodey, and Vision were seated at a long wooden table, trying – and mostly succeeding – to appear calm. Thankfully, the Avengers only had to have one response to those kinds of questions:

"Ms Stark's ongoing assessment is being conducted by the United States Government and the Accords Committee. It's not under the Avengers' purview. Next question please."

Eventually the reporters started to get the hint and went back to asking about the current state of the Avengers, and how they hoped to protect the planet.

Tony, Vision, and Rhodey were in one of these media briefings when blaring alarms sounded across the Facility. In her cell Maggie leaped to her feet, instantly ready to defend herself, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. immediately said: "You're not in danger, Ms Stark. That's the call to assemble."

Maggie's stomach plummeted. "For the Avengers?"

"Yes. I'm not at liberty to reveal the nature of the emergency, but the Avengers will be leaving in less than five minutes."

Maggie glanced back at her StarkPad, heart racing, and saw that Tony, Rhodey, and Vision had left the podium, leaving the excited reporters shouting in their wake.

"Oh god," she said. Her breathing was coming fast, and she had to sit down. "Rhodey's not cleared for combat yet, the suit isn't ready." She dug her fingers into her knees.

"Are you alright, Ms Stark?"

"It's just Vision and Tony." Her head spun. "I don't care what the emergency is, how can they go with just the two of them?"

There was a brief pause, and Maggie wondered if F.R.I.D.A.Y. was planning on leaving her alone with her panicked thoughts. But then the A.I. spoke again: "The boss's suit is fully functional, and Vision is more than capable as I'm sure you're aware. I've just spoken with the Boss, you're cleared to make your way to the aircraft hangar." The cell door slid open.

Maggie blinked. "What?"

"You have three minutes, I recommend you make the most of them."

"But the Manacle-"

"I have complete control over the Facility, Ms Stark, I assure you that you're not going anywhere."

"Right." She swallowed past her instinctive fear at being left alone, then shot up from her seat and walked out into the corridor. It seemed F.R.I.D.A.Y. was back to clearing people out of the way before she got there, so she sprinted through the now-familiar corridors toward the aircraft hangar. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears and her fingers were shaking.

When she burst into the hangar, a massive structure of steel and glass, she skidded to a halt and glanced around wildly.

"Maggie!"

Vision, Tony, and Rhodey were standing at the far end of the nearly-empty hangar, by a Quinjet. As Maggie watched, an Avengers strike team jogged up the loading ramp, prepping their weapons. The jet powered up.

Maggie ran across the hangar to them – Tony was in his suit with his face plate down, Vision was in his synthetic battle outfit, and Rhodey was standing beside them in his military uniform and exosuit, arms crossed. When she reached them, Tony reached out and dropped his metal gauntlet on her shoulder. There was a glint of concern in his eyes, but his bearing was relaxed.

"Short notice, but we've got to head off. Rhodey's going to stay here and keep an eye out for you."

Maggie couldn't conceal the panic in her eyes as she glanced between Vision and Tony. "Is it dangerous? Whatever it is that you're going to fight?"

Vision was hovering a foot off the ground, his cape blowing in an invisible wind. "We cannot discuss the details with you, but I assure you we will be fine."

Tony squeezed her shoulder. "It'll be okay, Maggot, I'll see you soon." The Quinjet's loading ramp closed, and he glanced over his shoulder. "We've got to go, though. Be good."

Maggie's heart leaped into her mouth, and she sprang forward to hug Tony. She could only just wrap her arms around the armor, but strangely that reassured her – he was larger than life, like this, and she could almost believe that he was invincible.

"Good luck," she murmured, then pulled away. Tony's eyes were on her, unreadable. "Maybe think about using that stealth mode, for once in your life."

He grinned. "Don't count on it." His faceplate snapped closed, and behind him the Quinjet hovered off the ground.

Maggie wanted to hug Vision, too, but it seemed like it'd be difficult given that he was hovering in mid-air. She settled for waving at him. "Be safe, Vis."

"I will." He inclined his head and smiled at her, apparently unfazed by the imminent danger.

Rhodey, who'd so far been silent and unhappy, with his arms folded over his chest, sighed. "Watch your six, Tony."

"Yes, dear." With that, Tony gave them both a jaunty wave and then fired up his repulsors, jetting out of the hanger in a blast of light and sound. With one last nod Vision soared after him, silent and weightless.

Maggie and Rhodey stood side-by-side as Tony, Vision, and the Quinjet flew west. When they were too far away to distinguish, Rhodey let out a long sigh.

"I should be with them."

She swallowed and turned to him. She felt jittery from the rush of adrenaline, and her worry for Tony. Rhodey looked unhappy, but she knew he knew exactly why he wasn't ready to start Avenging yet. She shuffled closer to him, and poked at his folded arms until his hold loosened, and she managed to hook her arm through his. He smiled at her, then went back to looking out at the empty sky.

"I'm not done yet, Maggie," he said, his brow heavy.

Maggie looked from his face to the wide open sky. She thought about the boy she'd saved in Argentina, about the bank robbers she and Bucky had stopped. She thought about all the injustices she knew were still out there.

She didn't respond to Rhodey out loud, but there was only one thought in her head:

I don't think I'm done yet, either.