Chater 19 First Strike

As I walked into the room where Peggy Carter was resting I was struck by how… frail she looked. Intellectually I knew of course that she was a really old lady by now, but it was still jarring to see the woman who I knew once flattened a marine with a single punch lying in her bed, her head slowly turning in my direction with a confused glance, her hair long turned silver and her face wrinkled with age.

The nurse (who had offered some feeble protests as I basically just invited myself inside) came up next to me, her hands on her hips and a stormy expression on her face.

"Sir! I must ask you to leave, Mrs. Carter is not receiving visitors at the moment, she needs her rest-"

"It's all right Lucy. Let him in. I'll call you if I need anything sweetie." Carter interrupted from her bed, a gnarled hand giving a weak half-wave as she gave a gentle smile towards her caretaker.

The nurse's eyes flitted from Carter to me and back again, before she let out a huff, walking around me and over towards the bed. Fluffing up the pillows, allowing Peggy to straighten up somewhat, Lucy poured the old woman a glass of water, before giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"If you start to feel tired, or if anything hurts at all…"

"Oh, I'll be fine Margaret. You run along now dear." Peggy said with a generous chuckle as she patted her caretaker's hand, missing the flash of sadness that crossed the nurse's face.

'Her emotional reaction implies positive feelings towards Carter, meaning a decreasing likelihood of her being loyal to Hydra. Not going to rule it out just yet, but it's promising at least.'

Giving a soft smile at the confused old lady, Lucy (or Margaret. Or neither) straightened and made to leave the room, giving me a stern look that clearly said that I had better not push Peggy too much, or else. Laying an enormous paw on her shoulder as she was about to walk past me, I turned to look at her, my expression open and honest.

"Don't worry, I won't push her too hard. If I may ask, could you contact one of her relatives for me please? A niece, her name is Sharon. I have some matters to discuss with Mrs. Carter for which I believe it would be only prudent to have a member of her family in attendance."

'There Fury, I just gave you an easy in. Are you going to take it, or will you realize that I want you to send Sharon and throw me off by sending someone else as a test? We'll see. Better not disappoint Nick. The game has only yet begun.'

The nurse gave me a narrowed-eyed look, before giving a curt nod, making her way further into the house, presumably towards a phone instead of, say, a silenced pistol or something (not that it would really do much to me, but it would surely put a damper on negotiations).

Turning back towards Peggy, I gave her my most convincing smile as I slowly take a seat next to her bed, careful not to crush the wood underneath my weight.

"My, you're a big one, aren't you?" Peggy says with a chuckle, and there's this small spark, hidden in her eyes as she says it, some remains of the legendary spy coming back to the surface as she tries to analyse me.

"I suppose I just ate my vegetables as kid, ma'am." I reply with a friendly smile, chuckling somewhat as the ninety year old woman somehow manages to pull off a half-decent 'are you shitting me right now?' look.

"All right, all right! I have a friend, who got into an… accident, which left him really smart. I was a reed-thin, sickly young man, and I allowed my super smart friend to perform an experimental procedure on me. And I transformed from a tiny little guy into the hunk I am today."

The lie clearly sparks something in the murky mists of her remaining memory (just as it was supposed to do) as I see a light shine in her eyes as she struggles to sit up a little straighter in her bed.

"Steve…" she whispers in a heartbroken tone, and I can't quite stop myself from feeling pretty bad for both her and Steve right now.

"No Peggy, I'm not Steve. I'm… I'm like Steve, do you understand?"

"You're… not Steve?"

"No Peggy, I'm not."

"Then… why are you here?"

The hopelessness in her voice almost makes me reconsider my actions, before I harden my resolve. I need Agent Carter fully back into the saddle in order to raise hell against Hydra before they find out I antagonized the Hand into waging war on them as I do not fancy a two-front war. Besides, I'm doing her a favour. A life like this… was it really worth living?

Shaking myself from my dark thoughts, I lean in a little closer, a smile still firmly plastered on my face.

"Well, I want to help you, Agent Carter. An old enemy has returned, and I- no, the world needs you right now. So, what do you say? Do you want to get better again and save the world with me?"

Sitting up a little straighter, she focuses her gaze on me with great effort, some clarity coming back into her eyes as my message slowly starts to sink in with her.

"You can make me better again? So I won't… so I won't forget all the time?" she asks me, clearly trying to insert her old fire into her voice, but it still comes out weak and feeble and despite my best efforts to remain stoic, it still succeeds in tugging at my heartstrings.

"Yeah. I can keep you from forgetting Peggy. If you help me against our old nemesis, then I promise you that you'll be all better again."

For a moment, she mulls over my offer, her eyes slowly sliding away from my face as they start to droop a little, before the old lady somehow manages to pull on a hidden reserve of willpower as she stares me straight in my softly glowing eyes.

"Who's the enemy?"

"Hydra."

The sight of her fury is a thing to behold.

//

I'm lying on the couch in the living room of the retirement home, my legs from the knees down dangling over one armrest, while my head is lolling over the other one. I'm idly tapping away on the holographic buttons projected by the sheet of transparent glass clutched in my hand.

One of the smaller projected screens in the top right corner showed a small map with a glowing dot moving along the streets. It showcased Jessica's position, as I had sent her out this morning in order to acquire Radcliffe, giving her Oliver to use.

In order to guarantee her safety while we waited for the Hand's inevitable opening move, I had her wear a (rather stylish) leather duster which was enhanced with the Burstein-treatment, though Potter had ended up calling it the Amber Armor, which had caught on with my other employees.

Of course, being the paranoid bastard that I was (what? You would be one too if you knew half the universe would end within the decade) I hadn't been content with just a piece of armour, so I had sent my chief of security along as well, an old army vet by the name of Jim Harper.

Harper was sent my way by Adrian Toomes when he figured out I was for real when I said I wanted to heal any cripples he wanted to recommend, and that I was actually capable of fulfilling that promise as well. Harper came back from a tour in Vietnam after the war ended, without his legs and pretty messed up in the head, and the cold shoulder he got when he got back home really didn't help matters any. In order to deal with it all, he resorted to drinking.

A lot.

Eventually, old, washed-up and broke, Harper realized that he needed to turn his life around before it was too late and he started attending counselling sessions led by Curtis Hoyle of all people. With a monumental amount of effort, Harper managed to clean up his act, but found it nearly impossible to get a job, since nobody wanted to hire an old man with a history of alcoholism and vagrancy, who was confined to a wheelchair.

Toomes did what he could for Harper (Toomes' dad grew up in the same neighbourhood as Harper or something, neither man really wanted to talk about it so I wasn't entirely sure), but life was still a daily struggle for the crippled veteran.

Until he met me.

The look he gave me when I gave him back his legs told me everything I ever needed to know about the man: from this moment until the day he died, I had his absolute loyalty. As such, Harper was one of the very few people that I employed that had received multiple enhancements (before I had everybody Brain Boosted yesterday evening, that is).

He had been enhanced with the Brain Booster, the Rejuvenation serum and the reverse-engineered Erskine formula, before I healed his legs with Extremis and gave him Amber Armour skin.

The combination of multiple enhancements and his amount of experience meant that he was one of the most capable and dangerous people under my control. The only way Jessica would be any safer other than with him would be if I personally went along with her, but I had too much to deal with here in New York, which meant that I couldn't just run off in order to recruit more mad scientists to my think tank.

Accompanying Jessica and Harper, was Sterns.

Why?

Well, in the words of my friend: "You're mad if you think I will ever let someone else drive Oliver! Completely mad!"

So yeah, Sterns went off to find Radcliffe as well. I worried for his safety, since the fact that he had raw gamma energy coursing through his body (because for some reason, he was the only person alive who didn't need a primer in order to be enhanced by the radiation) meant that he was stuck with a similar problem as Jessica, so he couldn't be enhanced with either Extremis or Amber Armour either for now.

Still, Sterns assured me that between the upgrades he had given Oliver, and the careful changes he had made to his own genetic structure (he revealed to me that one of the changes he had made had ended up fusing his ribcage, so that instead of individual ribs, he now had segmented plates covering his vital organs), he would be fine for a few days at least, promising to return in time for the New Year's party which Jessica had forced me to promise I would throw for the employees of Titan Solutions.

Unfortunately, Sterns going off on what was essentially a side-quest meant that there was a delay on the Pym Particle research, but considering it was only by a few days to a week at best, it should still be concluded fast enough to keep Cross from giving me any trouble (meaning that it was unlikely that the somewhat unstable man would get impatient enough to pull his goo gun on me, which was one of the very few things in this universe that could one-shot me).

A bigger screen which took up the bottom half of the holographic projection showed a newsfeed with Stark shaking hands with a downright giddy looking spokesman from Nasa, right after the brilliant inventor revealed that he would be working with the space agency by using his repulsor technology, which would revolutionize spacefaring as we knew it.

As a response to the news I was watching, a smaller screen in the top left showed the email I was writing to Elon Musk (who I already knew existed in this universe, because I remembered seeing him in Iron Man 2 talking to Tony), with an offer to start up SpaceX a few years earlier than he originally would have.

Tony's move to use his repulsor technology for space craft was absolutely brilliant on his part (and I didn't mind giving out that praise, since it had been my plan as well. Stark just beat me to it), but I had an even bigger ace up my sleeve.

Sure, sending stuff up cheaper and easier was like finding the golden egg of spacefaring, but sending up an entire base shrunk to the size of a Lego set in just a single go was the golden goose instead.

Thanks Pym Particles!

Right as I hit send, I could hear the front door open, hurried footsteps storming inside.

'Single person, walking in high heels. Judging by the time between the clicks of her heels and thus the distance she covers which each step, a woman of small build. Has a key. Meaning that it's probably-'

Right at that moment a young woman storms into the room, her blonde hair swirling around her head in her haste, and I feel a grin coming to my face as I leisurely sit up on the couch, placing my glass phone into the pocket of my suit jacket.

"Hello there Sharon."

"Mr. McCole. Might I ask what you are doing here? I don't remember someone making an appointment to see my Aunt. She doesn't really take any visitors at the moment you see." Sharon said, her voice hard and straining within the limits of what can be considered polite, worry for her family member clearly visible in her expression.

'It's been four minutes since I asked the nurse to call Sharon, meaning that she was either already in the vicinity, or was transported here by alternative means other than public transportation or by car, something fast, like a quinjet or something. It's probably not the latter though, I think I would've heard that, which means that she certainly didn't come after the nurse called her, it would've taken her longer to get here if that was the case. Flushed cheeks and slight sweat on her forehead means that she exerted herself, but not for long. So, were you already around here somewhere, keeping an eye on your Aunt, or did Fury have you transported here the moment he realized I was making my way towards Carter? Slightly hoarse voice, indicating a shouting match held very recently. Ah, I see now. You were probably already in the neighbourhood as part of the surveillance on your Aunt, and the moment that the nurse called, saying that I asked for you, Fury wanted to send someone else in order to test me. You disagreed and managed to argue until he conceded, which brings us to the here and now. But now for the million dollar question: are you wearing a wire or not?'

It took maybe all of half a second for me to deduce that, my smile still firmly on my face as I fully straighten, chuckling at the wariness that enters Sharon's form without her even knowing it as she realized just how big I am compared to her.

"Ah yes. That's because I haven't made an appointment, Miss Carter. I was simply in the neighbourhood and decided that, considering my vast amount of rather impressive abilities, it was only appropriate that I show some respect to one of our nation's greatest heroes." I say enthusiastically as I cross the living room with three great strides, placing my arm around her shoulders, which earns me an uneasy glare which I promptly ignore.

I can tell that she knows that what I'm saying is a load of bull, but she can't exactly call me out on it without pissing of a billionaire businessman and one of the more dangerous people on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watch list.

So she grits her teeth and gives me a strained smile as I lead her towards Peggy's room. It's clear by her posture that she tries to hang back a bit, trying to delay me, but I hardly even notice her efforts as I just keep on walking, making sure that the harmless smile stays firmly plastered on my face.

"And just how exactly were you planning on showing my Aunt respect, Mr. McCole?" Sharon asks with a firm voice, which is somewhat undermined as at this point I'm basically just shoving her forwards without any effort at all, still portraying a genial air of innocence.

"Oh, well nothing much really. Just something small, you know, nothing really extravagant. So I was thinking about simply healing her Alzheimer's and reversing her age to restore her to the prime of her life."

That makes Sharon stumble, her eyes widening as she stares at me with a gaping mouth, and I can't keep myself form chuckling, a deep rumbling sound that's more reminiscent of a rockslide than a laugh.

'Oh, that expression is priceless. I'm almost hoping that you actually are wearing a wire, Sharon. God, the look on Fury's face when he finds out that I consider healing Alzheimer's or reversing age as something small. No doubt it'll make him wonder just what I consider something big then.' I think to myself with a snort, before I school my expression again as we arrive at Peggy's room.

Sharon's eyes go from the still from of her Aunt to me with an accusing glare, but I assuage her worries as I gently push her into the big armchair next to the bed.

"She's just resting, Miss Carter. When I told her what I wanted to do for her, she got overwhelmed and requested that she was given some peace and quiet. I, of course, acquiesced and removed myself to the living room, where you found me."

The truth was that she got in such a fit when I told her that Hydra was still alive she tired herself out in her anger and just sort of… dozed off mid-rant. Of course, I wasn't going to tell Sharon that I basically upset her Aunt to the point that she lost consciousness, so this little white lie would do.

Especially since it seemed to work, as Sharon took one of Peggy's hands into her own, looking at the frail old woman with a soft, genuine smile on her face. Not taking her eyes off the aged founder of S.H.I.E.L.D., Sharon began talking to me, stroking the wrinkled skin of Peggy's hand with gentle movements of her thumb.

"Is it true? Can you really… can you really heal her? Keep her from forgetting all the time?"

By the tone she uses, and the look she has in her eyes, I can tell that it's not the spy in her that's asking about my abilities, but just a niece that wants the best for her favourite aunt. This was the reason that I asked for Sharon: I could've just gone ahead and made Peggy swole as fuck, but there would be all kinds of legal loopholes concerning consent that Fury would immediately throw at me in order to try and get me under his thumb (or at the very least somewhat indebted to S.H.I.E.L.D.) that it was easier to just do it this way.

If Peggy consented to trying experimental healing, and Sharon gave me permission to perform the "procedure" (for as much as sticking someone with a needle can be considered a procedure), then it would be a lot harder for Fury to leverage this into something he could use against me.

"Yes, I can really heal her. There are numerous people in my employ that have recovered from spinal injuries, head trauma and even lost limbs. My friend, Dr. Sterns, has in combination with a prestigious think tank created a serum that will counter the effects of Alzheimer's. Unfortunately, due to the aggressive deterioration as well as the delicate structure of the brain, Sterns was forced to work very carefully, and as such we have not yet been able to create a permanent cure. If I administer this, then it's very likely that your Aunt will eventually start suffering from the effects of Alzheimer's again. Luckily, another dose of the serum will reverse those symptoms as well, bringing her back to the same healthy state as before the disease set in."

"So she'll need shots for the rest of her life?"

"Unfortunately yes. At least, until Sterns manages to create a permanent cure, but at the moment, we're not really sure how long that would take."

"I see. These shots… how often would she need to take them and how expensive are they?"

"Well, once a decade, though that's somewhat conservative. And free of charge."

At that, Sharon's head whips around to me, her eyes wide while her mouth is agape, causing me to chuckle once again. Then Sharon's eyes narrow suspiciously and I can tell that the concerned niece is gone, replaced by the S.H.I.E.L.D. spy.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you offering to heal her, and for free at that? What is it that you're trying to get out of this?"

I raise my hands in a placating gesture, trying to subtly retake control of the conversation. I don't really need Sharon's approval, but things will go so much smoother if she does, so I'll play along.

For now.

"Like I said, I feel that in recognition of what we as a society all owe her, this is just something I should do, not only as an upstanding citizen, but as a decent human being as well. And considering both my capabilities and my resources, healing one woman is something that I'm perfectly capable of doing without needing to be compensated for it." I say softly, forcing my tone to remain calm and confident.

I can see Sharon's conviction's waver, her personal love for her family warring with her professional attitude as a spy who's clearly uncomfortable with letting someone on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watch list have their way with someone so closely tied to the very roots of their organization. I just need to give her a little push in order to get her over the tipping point, and then I'll basically have my own Hydra-hunting dog.

Leaning forwards a bit, folding my hands as I dim the glow in my eyes to the lowest they'll go, I gaze at Sharon with all the sincerity I can fake (which, considering I followed an acting workshop online on a lazy Sunday only a few weeks back, is a lot of sincerity).

"Look, Sharon. I'm going to be honest with you here. I meant what I said: the whole world owes Peggy Carter a debt. That's not just something I'm saying in order for you to trust me, it's something I believe from the bottom of my heart. It's not just her personally, it's also her legacy, how even now we feel the effects of her great deeds. Who knows what the world would look like without S.H.I.E.L.D.? And yet, all that she's given in recognition of that fact is a single paragraph in the Smithsonian. She deserves better than this Sharon, Peggy deserves more than just being forgotten, all the while forgetting everything herself. Don't you want her to look at you with clarity again? To have her hold you in her arms, and to remember what you told her the week before? To walk and dance and laugh as if she's in the prime of her life again, instead of lying in bed all day? Don't you want your Aunt to live again Sharon?"

Tears are flowing down the spy's cheeks as she keeps on staring at the sleeping face of her Aunt during my passionate speech, before she slowly turns to look at me. I can practically see the last shreds of her guard fall away, as she makes her decision.

"Please. Heal her."

Reaching over the bed, I place my enormous hand on top of Sharon's and Peggy's intertwined ones, giving a gentle squeeze as I allow a reassuring grin to grow on my face.

"I will."

And with that, I reach in the inner pockets of my suit jacket, retrieving three syringes. One is filled with a watered down Rejuvenation serum, focused more on just strengthening the body, while the second has the full-strength Rejuvenation serum, focused entirely on repairing the body to the healthiest state it can be or ever has been. A component extracted from the Extremis virus, for Killian this had meant the curing of his deformities.

For Peggy, it would mean the "curing" of the wear and tear of her aged body.

The reason I would use the watered down version first, was solely because I needed Peggy as strong as she could currently be, if she wanted to survive the stress the second serum would apply to her frail body. Yes, the end result of the serum would leave her in the prime of her life, but such a massive change had to start from somewhere, and I couldn't risk the stress of such an extensive transformation killing her.

The third serum was the Alzheimer Cure, which I would apply right before injecting Peggy with the second serum, since I didn't quite know yet what the Extremis-derived cure would do with the elderly woman's damaged brain (I mean, we had theories, but it isn't like we really had any empirical data we could use to back those theories up), and just how it would try to fix it. Better to just have it healed before that even had a chance of becoming an issue altogether.

Sharon's eyes light up with interest the moment she spots the syringes, but she remains silent, having made her decision and sticking with it, apprehension and curiosity warring on her face.

"Peggy? Peggy, wake up please. I'm going to heal you now. I'm going to stop you from forgetting all the time."

Slowly, the old woman opens her eyes, her eyelids remaining droopy as she slowly looks from me to Sharon. Upon seeing her niece, her expression softens, a tired smile growing on her face.

"Oh Amanda, how nice of you to finally visit!"

I shoot Sharon a confused look, and with pain in her eyes, she mouths 'my mother' to me. Giving an understanding nod, I back off a bit as Sharon leans closer to her Great Aunt, giving a reassuring smile as she softly brushes Peggy's silver hair.

"No Auntie, it's me, Sharon."

Peggy's brows furrow for just a second in confusion, before her expression lightens up, a small laugh coming from the elderly woman.

"Sharon my dear! How lovely to see you again! Lovely! And… who is he?" Carter asks with a loud whisper as she points in my direction, getting amused snorts from both me and Sharon.

"That's Mr. McCole, Auntie. He's here to make you better again."

"Really?"

"Yes Auntie, really. It's just that… his cures are still very experimental. I've given my permission for him to try them anyway, but I'd still like for you to give your consent if you want. Or not, of course. If you don't want it then that's fine too."

Peggy gives a thoughtful frown, before she peers closely at me again. It's only because I'm paying such close attention to her that I can spot the spark that suddenly fires up in the old woman's eyes, before it's quickly hidden again by a vacant stare, her expression having not twitched so much as muscle.

Still, it's enough for me to know what's going on, and I try my hardest to keep my grin hidden from Sharon.

Because I'm fairly certain that Peggy has just remembered me and the conversation we had not so long ago. And she caught on quickly enough to keep it hidden from Sharon, who works for S.H.I.E.L.D., the agency which I told her was compromised by Hydra itself, without even betraying a sliver of emotion.

Say what you want about Peggy Carter, but even at age ninety, the frail superspy still had it.

"All right dear. If it can keep me from forgetting all the time, then I'm even willing to try this… weed, that's all the rage these days. I'm quite curious actually. It sounds like fun!"

Sharon can barely keep her laugh contained, even as I let out a booming chuckle of my own, before getting down to business. I can almost taste Hydra's panic as I prepare to bring back one of their greatest enemies back out of retirement.

"Right Mrs. Carter, let's get started right away, shall we? I will first apply this serum to you, it is just something basic that boosts your health so that you are as healthy as you can possibly be at the moment. This is just a matter of precaution, a stepping stone for the more powerful serums, if you like to think about it that way. Ready? Here we go!" and in one fluid movement I take the cap off the syringe, place the needle against the vein in Peggy's arm, and administer the first serum so fast it leaves Sharon and her Aunt blinking in surprise.

Sharon opens her mouth, but my supernaturally smooth movements are ahead of her, already in motion as I take the second syringe and remove the cap, while on the bed, Peggy is visibly growing healthier by the second, her cheeks which were sunken in now full and healthy, her feeble arms filled with some muscle again.

In the stunned silence that follows as both women look on as the ninety year old lady proceeds to look better and better, I start the prep work for the second injection, removing the now empty syringe from Peggy's arm (now with far less wrinkles and with some meat on those bones for the first time in decades), placing the needle of the second one against the back of her neck, gently moving her head a bit to the side in order to reach her spine.

"Now then, Mrs. Carter, this one will sting a bit as I need to administer this serum directly to your nervous system. The serum will use the connection between the nerves and the brain to directly affect both the hindbrain as well as the pair of cortex. These shall then start the process of reversing the effects of the Alzheimer's disease. Unfortunately, while the remaining tissue will be revitalized, parts of your brain shall have to be remade from scratch and as such, they shall lack the ingrained paths of your original synapses. Some gaps in your memories are to be expected, but there's a high chance that your muscle memory shall remain unaffected, which means that you might keep all of your previous skills, though of course they'll be somewhat rusty. And done!" I keep on talking in a steady murmur in order to keep both women calm, much like a paediatrician keeps talking to kids in order to distract them from the scary needle that he's simultaneously jabbing into their arm.

Peggy gives a startled blink at the piercing feeling of the needle, but as expected of the badass lady, she doesn't give a peep, even as Sharon gives her a worried look, which only increases as her Aunt suddenly winces, squeezing her eyes shut as if suffering from an enormous headache.

"Auntie! Are you all right?!"

"I'm f-fine dear… i-it just… h-hurts a bit…" Peggy says through gritted teeth, causing her niece to whirl around to face me with a stormy expression, but I cut her off before she can really get started as I take the last syringe.

"Not to worry ladies, this is simply a side-effect of the revitalization of Mrs. Carter brain. During the process itself, you might feel as if you are suffering from a migraine, and after the process has been completed, you'll probably have a mild to severe headache for a day or two. I must urge you to not take any meds against the discomfort, no matter how overbearing it gets. Your brain is one of the most delicate organs in your body, and is currently undergoing a massive transformation, any medication has a chance of negatively affecting this change."

The only reason why I was administrating these serums here and now was because I knew that Peggy currently wasn't on any meds, just a few fluids that were very unlikely to have any effect whatsoever. I was fairly sure that most drugs at this point wouldn't really have that much of an effect either since most of the changes were made to her DNA, but that didn't mean that what I said wasn't true. The brain is extremely delicate, and there's always a chance of things going wrong, so I'm not taking any risks.

"Right then, with those two serums in place and coming along nicely, it's time for the last one. This one goes into the bloodstream, so Mrs. Carter, if you would give me your arm please, thank you. And there we go, this serum will restore you to your body's prime condition, meaning that you will appear as you were at the age that you were at your physical peak, with the physique to match. Of course, from then on you'll age normally again, but the results should be very impressive nonetheless."

And as I retract the needle, my words prove true, going by the shocked gasp of Sharon, who flies out of her chair in moments, her back slamming into the opposite wall as she stares at her Aunt, who herself is staring at her hands in wonder.

Remember that scene in the second Lord of the Rings movie, where Gandalf drives Saruman from Théoden of Rohan? You know, the one where he goes from ancient, decrepit looking corpse to a healthy middle-aged guy in the span of seconds.

Yeah, try to take that image and then apply it to the old lady you saw talking to Steve in the movie.

Not gonna lie, I felt incredibly pleased with myself as I took in the change happening in front of my eyes. Peggy's form visibly swelled up with muscles, the wrinkles in her skin disappearing as if some higher being simply took an eraser and smoothed them away without any effort. Her liver spots simply faded into non-existence, while colour returned to the woman's cheeks, sking and eyes. Even her hair, still silver of course, appeared as if it were more vibrant than before.

Sitting up straight in her bed without any effort, Peggy watches on with wide, clear eyes, as her hands become as smooth as they were when she was in her twenties, the wrinkles and spots and arthritis gone completely as if they had never been there before.

"Auntie?"

Her head snapping up sharply at the soft whisper, Peggy's eyes (which had been watery and droopy ever since I saw her) homed in on her niece in a flash, clear and alert.

"Sharon?"

Even her voice has changed. Gone is the feeble tone, the slight croak in the back of her throat. It's the voice of a strong woman, not only used to having her words heard by all, but followed immediately as well.

Slowly, Sharon, looking completely gobsmacked, approached her Aunt, who instead of looking her ninety years, looked exactly as she did during World War 2, though now with thick, silvery hair framing her face, which will probably be gradually be replaced by new, red hair. While there's an age difference of more than half a century between the two women, Peggy could now easily be mistaken as being Sharon's older sister or something.

The two clasp each other's hands in a mix of desperation and tentativeness, as if they're afraid that if they don't touch what they see, it might turn out to be an illusion, but also afraid that if they do touch what they see, then it might shatter and come to an end.

However, after a few moments of holding hands and staring at each other with tear-filled eyes, the reality of the situation slowly starts to sink in with the two women and with a choked sob of happiness, Sharon throws her arms around her Great Aunt, who easily returns the gesture with equal vigour.

Despite the fact that I've orchestrated this mostly for my own benefit, I can't help but feel the a glow of satisfaction in my chest as I look at the heart-warming scene for a moment, before I slowly rise from my chair.

Peggy's eyes snap towards me at the slightest hint of my movement, but Sharon is still bawling her eyes out as she's holding her cured family member. Giving a soft shake from my head, I reach inside my pocket as I soundlessly mouth 'later' to Peggy, getting a tiny nod in return as I place my business card on the cabinet in her room.

On the front of the card, stamped in a neat, business-like font was my contact information listed, with the address of Titan Solutions headquarters.

On the back of the card was scribbled the address of a certain gym, which would be frequented by a mutual acquaintance of ours…

I extrapolated its location due to the fact that the diner Steve ends up in after his defrosting was close to his Safe House, and also close enough that it was in direct view of Stark Tower. All I had to do from there was Google gyms in the immediate vicinity, and then look for the oldest ones still in use.

Leaving the women to celebrate the newly regained health of Peggy Carter, I make my way downstairs with a smile, before the glass plate in my pocket unexpectedly gives of a sharp alarm.

'Huh? I didn't have anything else planned for today, so why would anyone need to call me? Don't tell me that they need me to be the tie-breaker in order to decide which type of pizza we'll end up ordering tonight, again. I'm so tired of that, no matter what I decide we just end up going with pepperoni every time anyways!'

Continuing to exit the retirement home, throwing an absent wave to the nurse as I do, I start walking back towards the warehouse at a leisurely pace, snow crunching underneath my feet, as I activate the holographic screen of my phone.

"Yes, Michael here, what's-"

"MICHAEL! YOU NEED TO GET BACK HERE NOW!"

I'm taken completely off-guard when I see the panicked face of Mason fill the screen, the sounds of screaming and thunderous crashes ringing through the phone, causing people on the street to turn in my direction with questioning looks, while I feel as if ice is slowly being poured into my veins.

"Phineas, what-"

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! I DON'T KNOW WHO OR WHY, BUT THEY HAVE WEAPONS, MICHAEL, ADVANCED ONES!"

Without me even realizing it, I've started running towards the warehouse, my feet slamming against the pavement with the sound of jackhammers as I run at my top speed, swerving around bystanders with only the minimal amount of margins, the Heart Shaped Herbs in my body working overtime in order to keep me from just bulldozing over other pedestrians as I'm easily clocking in at highway speeds.

"What do you mean, advanced ones!?"

"ADVANCED AS IN WE DON'T HAVE A FUCKING FRONT WALL ANYMORE!" Mason screams in panic, and a low growl starts to form in my chest as I pour on even more speed, the desperate need to get to my people fuelling my movements to even greater heights.

I can see bright flashes in the background, while the rest of the warehouse seems to be on fire. It looks like Mason is lying low behind an upturned desk, but even enlarging the holographic screen to the size of my torso doesn't allow me to make out any details in the total chaos going on.

"Phineas! Try to stay low! I'm coming! You hear me, Phineas!? I'm on my way!!"

"JUST GET HERE, WE'RE –urghk!"

Suddenly, Mason's face goes off-screen as the screen itself starts spinning out of control, before it comes to a stop on the floor, several cracks showing as I'm treated to an image of where the front of my building used to be. Instead, there's a massive hole in it, from the bottom floor all the way to the roof. Through the hole I can see the street, where a small column of taxi's and limousines are parked.

People are hiding behind the cars and mercilessly opening fire on the warehouse with what appears to be heavy-calibre weaponry, as brick and mortar explode in showers of dust at every shot they take.

I can only look on in helpless anger as I see one of the people in my security force with the Amber Armour enhancement ('Will Driver, age 35, a friend of Toomes. Resorted to drug abuse after a charge got killed on his watch, ended up in jail. Reformed and clean for six years, but due to being an ex-convict got refused from every security agency he applied for. Likes teriyaki and is one hell of a blackjack player.') stand up with a desk in his hands, trying to provide cover for two colleagues who had the Extremis enhancement and are trying to crawl away from battle, both having several limbs blown clean off, which would still take a little while to regenerate, leaving them vulnerable for follow-up attacks.

One of the attackers let out a shout, pointed a massive cannon with various glowing parts in Will's direction and opened fire, the muzzle of his gun lighting up with a hauntingly familiar purple hue.

The desk splinters into a million pieces, and Will is picked up like a ragdoll, thrown clear into the warehouse, landing with a wet smack only a couple of feet away from where Mason dropped his phone.

He isn't getting up.

Rage comes roaring to life inside me as the glass plate melts in my hand, hatred that I haven't felt ever since my acid trip to the Astral Plane where I was confronted with my baser instincts filling my burning veins.

The personification of my darker instincts, which I had accepted as being a part of me, rather than something artificially created by the multitude of enhancements within me, made its presence known again, but this time, instead of feeling as if I need to fight the heat inside me lest it burns my world to ash, it now feels as if we are one, working in tandem.

It wants to see those scumbags who dared to attack my people BURN, just as much as I do.

I don't even notice the snow melting around me in a sphere several feet in diameter, leaving sloshing water running off the sidewalk behind me as I take to the rooftop of the building next to me in a mighty leap, leaving cracked pavement in my wake, my suit burning up around my form as I keep getting angrier, and therefore, hotter as well.

Due to my immense speed, combined with the ability to travel in a mostly straight line, it takes only a couple of minutes to get close enough to hear the thunderous gunfire, as well as see the glow from the burning warehouse.

It takes another minute before I'm close enough that I'm looking over the scene, spotting the line of attackers, hidden safely behind their cars (though a few have been reduced to burning wrecks already) as they keep their heavy fire on the building, where I can see my security force of mostly Amber Armor enhanced individuals trying to evacuate their more vulnerable friends from the battle field, unable to launch an effective counterattack due to the combined fire of their enemies and the burning warehouse around them (they can withstand the flames, but even they still need to breath, and currently there's more smoke than oxygen in the ravaged building).

I can see several of the attackers break off from the main group as they set up a shallow perimeter at the head and tail of the column, opening fire on both ends of the street, where black SUV's are intermingled with police cars, the NYPD working together with the various spy agencies that had been casing the warehouse in order to keep the fighting contained.

They're still losing, as I spot one of the attackers point an enormous hand cannon over the hood of the taxi he's hiding behind and squeeze the trigger once.

At the end of the street, the door of a police cruiser is torn clean off, sending the people taking cover behind it in panicked disarray.

But even as I take all of these events in with just a quick glance, there's one thing that immediately draws my eye, and my suit explodes in a great ball of fire as the heat of my body skyrockets, showing off my towering form and raised skeleton to the world.

Because I can see the broken forms of some of my people lying in front of the warehouse.

And they aren't moving.

A roar rings out over the battlefield, rattling windows of buildings and cars alike, forcing a short lull in the pitched gunfight as people exchange frightened looks at the monstrous sound.

It takes me a few moments to realize that the sound came from me, but by then I'm already moving, having jumped from the roof I was standing on towards the street below me, my entire form wreathed in flame.

I crash onto the roof of the taxi in the middle of the column, its frame crumpling into unrecognizable wreckage under my impact, fire rolling off my form in waves. The attackers whirl towards me, fear visible in their eyes as they raise their futuristic weapons towards me with trembling hands, ready to open fire-

BTTOOOOMMM!!!!!!

-right as the car underneath me explodes due to the heat I'm giving off setting the gas inside its fuel tank alight, throwing the would be attackers to the ground, and spraying shrapnel in all directions, forcing the nearest scumbags back with shouts of pain and alarm.

I of course, remain completely unharmed, slowly straightening to my full height as I stand in the burning wreckage of one of their vehicles, my burning eyes slowly tracking across their trembling forms.

Then my head is suddenly jerked to the side, right after which a loud bang reaches my ears, and my rage continues to grow even further. Whirling in the direction the shot came from, I see a man lying on the ground with what can only be described as a sci-fi heavy rifle clutched in his arms.

He stares up at my burning form with what is clearly a mixture of absolute terror and complete confusion.

I don't care.

With a roar tearing from my throat, I rush towards him in the blink of an eye, ripping the twisted frame of the car wreck I'm standing in apart like wet tissue paper without even noticing. My speed turns out to be too great for any of them to react to: before my attacker can really do anything other than scream, I'm upon him, my fist descending towards his head.

The crash is enormous, the street buckles underneath the impact of my strike, heat once again blasts away from my skin and the man's head is…

Well, it's gone.

I pick up the sound of retching coming from behind me, but that darker part of me pushes my body forwards, utterly unconcerned with the reactions of the people around us, willing only for them to burn.

And I'm completely on board with that.

Harsh impacts keep slamming into my body, much like one of Jessica's punches, and while painless to me, it makes me understand why these soon to be dead men are capable of hurting my people if they're coordinated enough to concentrate their fire, but I push through it, whatever little damage they manage to inflict healed in mere seconds.

Once again, my sheer speed proves itself too great for these scumbags, and my hands sink into the soft metal of the hood of the closest limo. With a roar and a heave, I lift the vehicle straight off the ground, bringing it around in a wide arc, smashing it into the three guys that had been taking cover behind it.

One of them is reduced to paste, the other two are thrown several dozen feet away, coming back down in pathetic bags of broken bones and meat, but I don't even bother to really pay any attention to them, already moving forwards towards my next prey.

One of the attackers at the back of the column takes one look at my demonic form and promptly decided to make his getaway, proving himself to be the smartest of the bunch with that single action.

Unfortunately for him, I don't intend for any of these fleshbags to get out of this alive.

Lifting the mangled wreck of the limo above my head, I take a massive leap towards the guy's car, clearing three others in a single jump. The attacker has just long enough to stare up at my descending form with an expression of mind-numbing horror, before I slam my improvised bat into his car, pushing it into the pavement, the shockwave my attack produces proving powerful enough to send the two closest enemies to the ground.

Annoyingly loud bangs sound behind me, and I feel numerous impacts all over my hunched back, as if there are a dozen Jessica's lightly punching me from behind. Turning around to face them fully, I can see a small squad of assholes standing clustered together, each of them holding a heavy looking rifle and opening up a continuous stream of fire.

I can see fear rise in their eyes as I don't buckle under their onslaught, as instead, the fiery pits that are my eyes increase in intensity as I glare at them while their shots slam into my unbreakable skin, shredding what few scraps remained of my shirt.

And all that I can think of through the intense haze of hatred that roars in my ears is a single, strangely lucid thought.

'Fuckin' mortals shouldn't have stood so close together. Idiots.'

And with that, even as my attackers keep on firing, I take an immense breath, before I spew a veritable tidal wave of fire at them, and the next two cars behind them as well. There's a brief cacophony of screams as they and their allies burn alive, before there's two subsequent explosions, which quickly silence the death throes of these foolish attackers.

There had been a total of eight cars during my initial assault (disregarding the two burned out husks which my people had already taken care of), with roughly four men to each car. I had crushed one during my arrival, had used a second one to completely flatten a third one, and had just set two more alight.

This left one car behind me, and the two forming a barricade against the police and various agencies at the other end of the column.

Already I could make out three people hurriedly getting in one of those cars (the other seemed to be non-functional due to being liberally peppered with gunfire to the point all of its tires were flat), obviously willing to take their chances with the police, rather than with me.

'NO! I can't let those fucking meatbags get away! They will burn for this!'

With an angered growl, I dash towards the car behind me, snatching a guy that didn't manage to get out of my reach fast enough by the head. Not breaking my stride, even as I feel weapon fire slam into my body, I raise the fool above my head, ignoring his screams of pain as I burn his face off, before slamming him into the ground with enough strength to create a crater.

His cries end immediately.

The last car in the column was placed sideways on the street, forming an impromptu defence against the handful of cops at the intersection only a couple of dozen feet away, with the driver's side towards me.

One of the attackers jumps through the open door, desperately turning the key in the ignition, but the engine keeps stalling. He has enough time left before I reach him for another two frantic tries, before he turns to look at me with tears flowing down his face.

I think I can see his lips form the words 'please' but I don't bother to pay enough attention to really care, instead just tucking in my head as I tilt my shoulder forwards, right before I slam into the car, it's frame buckling around my body as I tackle it hard enough to produce a thunder-clap.

My momentum it so massive, the car is shoved back ten feet, nearly tipping over completely, the driver's side virtually non-existent now, nothing more than a smouldering wreck as if it was just T-boned by a truck on fire.

In a way, it was.

Acting before the car can crash back down again, I step forwards, ramming my hands in its underbelly, before I give another heave, and lift the entire thing above my head.

Giving a roar that can be heard at the other end of the column (my attack had taken all of three seconds, meaning that they were still trying to get in the car), it's terrifying enough that it halts all movement there as I can see scumbags turn in my direction in fear.

Building up a bit of momentum, I make a short dash forwards, before heaving with all my might, throwing the car in my hands clear over the rest of the column. The thugs have just enough time to scramble out of the way, before my impromptu missile slams into their getaway vehicle, carrying it nearly all the way towards where the NYPD is holed up in a great shower of sparks and the wail of tortured metal, all of them looking at me in clear shock.

A satisfying scream tells me that at least one of the mortals wasn't quite quick enough to get out of the way of my attack, having lost a leg and losing massive amounts of blood from the grisly wound. He's dead already, if he doesn't receive immediately medical attention.

He won't.

I haven't been idle during my previous attack, shooting towards one of the remaining attackers (they started at roughly thirty, they were now down to less than half that), punching him in the chest so hard that he appears as a blur as he slams into the building on the opposite side of the street.

Bursting towards two more meatbags I perform a sweeping kick on one, nearly separating his torso from his legs as I send his corpse sailing down the street, while I cut another nearly in half by heating up my hand until it's a blinding white-hot colour, steam and flames roiling off of it in waves.

I'm closing in on another human, my glowing hands high above my head in a superheated double hammer blow, the baseline below me cowering in fear as he looks up at me with tear-filled eyes-

"Eat this freak!"

-before a blast slams into my face, jerking it to the side in a harsh movement of immense force. This blow is different from the other ones.

I actually felt this one.

Turning my head towards where the sudden blast came from, feeling another slam into my chest with enough strength to force me back half a step, I spot a burly man with what can only be considered a cannon in his arms.

'The guy that took out Will. That's the guy who took out Will! I'LL BURN HIM TO ASHES!'

Tarmac melts and buckles underneath my feet as I sprint towards him, vaulting over the burning remains of one of their cars in a single smooth movement, but a massive blast slams into my chest, and due to being in mid-air (meaning I don't have anything to brace against) it forces me into the wreckage of the vehicle.

I immediately try to get up, but get blasted by another cannon shot to the face, and due to lacking anything stable to support myself with (the burned out frame of the car I'm half-lying in buckles each time I try to put some force on it) I get shoved back again.

Then a continuous stream of impacts comes from my left side (one of the remaining guys picking up a heavy rifle from what I can tell from the corner of my vision), but as I turn towards him with a growl, yet another cannon shot impacts me, forcing me back, quickly followed by a second, and then a third.

Two more streams of fire join the first one, and though they don't do too much damage to me, they have enough force to limit my movements, especially since every time that it appears that I'm about to work myself to a standing position, a cannon shot slams into my face, or one of my knees.

I'm still pretty much unharmed, other than a ringing in my ears and some spots in my vision due to the repeated cannon shots to the face (the bastard has been steadily closing in too, making each shot more powerful than the last), but it appears I'm pinned down under the onslaught of their heavy weaponry.

The very notion of these meatbags being able to hold down someone like me, as if they're greater than me, just makes me even angrier, and as yet another cannon shot slams into my knee, making it buckle underneath me, at the same time that two streams of gunfire concentrate on my right eye, reducing it to pulp, I've had enough.

The roar I utter is loud enough that it forces the guy closest to me to drop his heavy rifle as he clasps his hands over his ears, as the heat coming from by body is great enough that I'm standing in what appears to be a small pool of lava, the tarmac having long since melted, the burned out remains of the car wreck around me being reduced to a glowing hunk of burning metal.

The air becomes unbearably hot, forcing my attackers back by several feet, despite the careful distance they have kept so far. At this point, it's not just my hands that are glowing white-hot, it's my entire body, forcing them to squint their eyes as they look away from the glaring light I'm giving off.

Unfortunately for them, this also means that they have stopped firing.

The moment the two mortals to my right have realized this fact, they're already dead, my glowing hands ploughing straight through their chests, my burning body leaving a bright after image and melted tarmac in my wake.

Lifting the corpses stuck on my arms, which are being immolated from the inside out, I twist towards the sole guy behind me, the one that dropped his heavy rifle. He makes a dive for his weapon right as I throw the first corpse, which clips him in the shoulder.

Other than a shout of pain and panic at being hit by the burning object, he continues his roll, coming up on one knee, aiming down his sight at me right as I throw the second corpse, this one on a straight collision course with him.

To his credit, he immediately opens fire, which takes out a huge chunk of the corpse's torso while sending it veering way off course. He next aims his weapon on me again, but this time, I'm not pinned down.

He manages to get off three shots, two which impact my raised ribcage, and one which strikes me in my regenerating eye, which hurts like hell. But it hasn't slowed down my charge towards him at all, and all I see is the slight, disbelieving widening of the eyes in the face of inevitable death, before a sweeping, superheated kick takes his head clean off.

Hearing movement behind me, I half-turn, my burning eye looking over my shoulder as it pins the man with the cannon in place. His face is ashen with terror, and I can see a dark stain in the front of his pants, but he still raises his weapon towards me.

"STAY BACK! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, DEMON! I'LL BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL! DON'T YOU FUCKING COME NEAR ME! YOU HEAR?!"

The idea that this… this… this mortal thought he could tell me what to do, after he attacks my company, assaults my people, hurts my friends?! He'll BURN!

Turning to fully face him, I absently feel a dark grin forming on my face as I slowly approach him, with him backing away from me in tandem with my steps. He lets out an inarticulate scream, fuelled by rage and despair, by anger as much as fear, and starts firing wildly at me.

In his panicked haze however, his accuracy is severely reduced, and this time he doesn't have the luck of catching me in mid-air. Most of his shots go wide. Those that don't, I'm capable of dodging, merely by moving my head to the side, or by twisting my torso out of the way.

I'm less than ten feet away when he bumps into something.

Or rather, someone.

Towering behind him, blood splattered across his mouth from his internal wounds, stands Will Driver.

And he looks pissed.

Before either me or the attacker can react, Will slams his arms around the cannon-wielder in a flash, trapping him in a bearhug. The attacker feebly tries to raise his weapon, before I see the muscles in Will's broad arms flex, and two loud cracks resounds across the battlefield, while the cannon falls out of the man's now useless arms.

The man screams in pain, but Will just keeps on making the bearhug tighter and tighter, and after a series of more wet snapping noises, the screams come to an end as well.

Letting the still corpse fall to the ground, Will gives me a tired grin, showing his bloodied teeth, before his eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses as well.

Looking around the fiery battlefield, I can see that the remaining attackers (a grand total of five out of the original thirty or so, including the guy that lost his leg) are currently being… taken care off by the remains of my security forces and some of the Extremis users.

Seeing that there are no more enemies/prey to take care of, I fight down the raging inferno in my veins, which is surprisingly easy to do. I just chalk it up to the weirdness of the Astral Plane trip I undertook, before putting it out of my mind, instead dashing over to Will's fallen form.

To my relief, he's still breathing, but it's irregular and very shallow. Those with the Amber Armoured skin do have a healing factor, but it's nowhere near on the same level as the one that the Extremis enhanced possess. And internal injuries are always dangerous for everyone, even regenerators.

Thankfully I can already hear sirens closing in fast, by my estimate they're only a few streets away, so at the very least Will shall receive some basic medical attention. His unbreakable skin means that the trauma surgeons will be limited in what they can do for him, but it's more than I could currently do for him out here on the burning street.

Making sure to gently place him on his side in order to avoid any choking hazards, I make my way inside, stopping by every fallen from of my people that I spot. Some of them are still breathing, in the case of the Extremis individuals even when missing multiple limbs or entire parts of their torso, and I do what little I can for them, but four people are beyond helping.

Three of them are… were Extremis-enhanced, two of them, a man and woman, having worked construction with Toomes before the man lost an arm and the woman (the one who I remember breathing fire at Susan after the little dino managed to scorch her pants yesterday) suffered from a spinal injury. The second man was an army vet who came back in a wheelchair and a body full of scars after he jumped on an IED in order to save his convoy.

They had been reduced to a grisly sight, clearly having suffered from multiple heavy-weapon attacks, judging by the pulped state of their remains.

The fourth loss was a man from my security team, who went by the name of Dave. Honestly, I didn't really know all that much more about him than that, but Adrian told me that he was a good guy, quiet and reliable. Given that he was lying outside, next to one of the car wrecks that were already on fire before I have even arrived, I now shared Adrian's beliefs of the man.

It wasn't entirely clear how Dave had died, but judging from the amount of blood that came from his mouth, eyes and ears, as well as the state of the asphalt surrounding his head, I think that at one point he was forced to the ground, and then they just kept on shooting at his head until the impacts damaged his brain enough to cause internal bleeding.

I hadn't been as close to these people as I was to my scientists or even Jessica, and I had mostly just recruited them from Adrian because I needed a loyal workforce that wouldn't ask too many questions while still being capable of standing up to the various dangers that the world had to offer.

That didn't mean I didn't care. Each and every single one of these people had suffered enough in their lives, through whatever circumstance. Joining up with Titan Solutions had in some cases been a literal life-saver, and despite them only working for me for about of month, some of them had quietly told me that they were currently happier than they had been in years.

And now four of them were dead, by the looks of it another dozen were badly injured (though due to their healing factors everyone was expected to make a full recovery in time) and the survivors were traumatized.

Making my way further in the burned out husk that used to be Titan Solutions, I silently start moving rubble and aiding the survivors, continuing my grim work even as the firefighters arrive, most of them clad in leather Amber Armor. I wordlessly accept a wide cloak from one of them in order to cover myself up as only mere scraps remain from my clothing, but I keep on working.

Thankfully, the decision of my security team to evacuate instead of entering the fray (and while there's not a doubt in my mind that they could've won, I can't help but be relieved that they had adhered to different priorities) had saved not only the lives of my employees by leading them out the back entrance, meaning we only found a few people still stuck in the burning building amongst the rubble, but had also saved much of Titan Solution's data.

Sure, much of the paperwork and assignments were now reduced to ashes, but I had several black boxes as well as back-ups. Combined with the survival of my people, I could rebuild.

It would take time and a monumental amount of effort, but Titan Solutions would survive.

I'm ripped from my musings when I can hear some rubble shifting a couple of feet to my right, and in a precarious mix of haste and caution (it wouldn't do to just go tearing away at the rubble with my superstrength, since that might cause a collapse, endangering any trapped people even further) I make my way over towards the pile of what appears to be the collapsed recreation room from the second floor, which has now fallen down onto the ground floor.

Steadily and carefully digging away at the rubble with my bare hands, sharp stone and jagged metal scraping against my skin to no avail, I manage to make some headway in the large pile, before my hearing picks up a voice from underneath the debris.

"Hello! This is Michael! Don't worry, I'm getting you out of there, all right?! Stay calm, I'm coming to get you!"

I keep yelling reassurances as I up my pace, tearing away at the rubble in order to get to whoever's trapped underneath, before I can make out their voice.

"M-Michael…"

"PHINEAS! Phineas, I'm coming, hold on! I'm almost there Phineas, stay with me all right?!"

Despite my enormous strength, fuelled by desperation as it is, it still takes well over five minutes to open a hole large enough to actually see one of my scientists, due to the care I need to take in order to not inadvertently cause a collapse which might kill my friend.

As I lay eyes on Phineas for the first time since yesterday (he came into work after I had left in order to heal Carter, which seems like a lifetime ago now) I'm struck by what I see.

The Tinkerer is leaning against a large block of concrete, his face gaunt with blood flowing from a cut above his brow, one of his legs trapped under what appears to be one part of an I-beam.

And cradled in his arms, is the unconscious form of Susan.

Seeing my look, Mason gives a weak chuckle, which transforms into a wet cough halfway through, causing me to immediately start digging again.

"She saved me you know. When we were attacked… she wanted to go out there and fight whoever was shooting at us, but then they just started… punching holes through the wall… she came back inside pretty hurt… Extremis kept her alive though… she was close to me when I called you but then… the roof came down, Michael, right on top of me… I thought I was gonna die…. Susan tackled me out of the way of the worst parts, but the beam… crushed my leg, trapped me… she stood over me, trying to bat the debris away with her body, but she's not very big… she got hit on the head by a piece of wall and was unconscious immediately… still breathing though… definitely ain't a quitter, this one…" Phineas raps, his speech fading in and out with his laboured breaths.

As his speech starts to peter out completely and his eyes start to droop, I begin yelling at him, redoubling my efforts to dig him out. Unfortunately, while the hole is large enough to just barely fit him through, it doesn't fit me, and I need to get closer to Phineas in order to get that I-beam off his leg.

"Phineas! Phineas! Don't go to sleep you hear me!? Keep talking! Come on, tell me what happened! Who attacked you?!"

"Dunno… was just minding my business… then we hear tires squealing… then boom, there's a big-ass hole in our wall… what the hell did they do Michael? Did they bring a cannon? It sounded like one…."

"In a way. Come on Phineas, keep talking, I can almost reach you!"

"Burstein's fine, by the way… saw him leading a group of people out the back… when I phoned you… didn't see him after though, cause I was… well, here….Michael, are those people gone now? Did we win?"

"Yeah, yeah I drove them off. They're gone now Phineas, we won. Look, I'm here now, okay? Let's get this piece of junk of your leg, and then get you and Susan some medical attention, what do you say?"

"I say… I say… that it was really fucking dumb to wait so long with the Amber Armour… did you know… Michael, did you know… that I was gonna ask Potter to perform… to perform… the procedure… today? Heh…"

"Phineas? Phineas! No, no, no, stay awake! Come on you need to stay awake! Talk to me, come on, you need to talk! Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS

//

Fun Fact: The Human Torch wasn't used in the '70s Fantastic Four cartoon because Universal Studios had licensed the character and blocked the use of him in the show, and not because the network was afraid children would light themselves on fire emulating the hero, as was apparently rumoured.