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The Wyvern - MCU [COMPLETE]

Margaret “Maggie” Stark is the newest heir to the Stark legacy, and the bane of Tony’s existence. But once she falls into HYDRA’s hands she becomes the Wyvern: a cybernetically enhanced assassin and operative, programmed to become the greatest weapon of her time. But the Wyvern finds herself pulled between two missions: to obey, or to avenge herself against a metal-armed Soldier she can barely remember? ***I DON'T OWN ANY CHARACTERS OR NOTHING JUST OC*** ------------------------------------------- https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12928991/1/ https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576214/chapters/33683343 ------------------------------------------- I am Posting this to spread the Amazing Work of [emmagnetised]

HellOfTiamat · 映画
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100 Chs

Chapter 90

Pepper and Tony bustled Maggie inside and started filling her in on everything she'd missed, and interrogated her in turn.

Pepper was about five months into her pregnancy, so while she and Tony were still a little wild-eyed about it, it was all new to Maggie. She stood still and silent as they spoke to her, her mind churning. After about the fifth time catching Maggie staring at her stomach, Pepper gently asked: "Would you like to see?"

"Yes," Maggie replied, not quite sure what she was agreeing to.

Pepper smiled and lifted up the bottom of her baggy sweater to reveal her rounded abdomen covered by a tight-fitting t-shirt. Maggie stared.

"I'm not all that big yet," Pepper explained. "The women in my family don't show much, but you can definitely see it nowadays."

"Gorgeous," Tony piped up from where he was mixing drinks in the kitchen.

Her stomach definitely wasn't huge and rounded like some of the pregnant women Maggie had noticed in the past, but her abdomen was still noticeably different, a soft curve against which her hand rested unconsciously. It looked heavy.

"Doesn't it feel… strange?" Maggie asked. This was a whole new world for her.

"The morning sickness wasn't great, but it's been clearing up. Lately I've been feeling… kind of like butterflies in my stomach? It's hard to describe. The books all say it's normal."

Still staring at Pepper's round stomach, Maggie frowned. "Books?"

"Pregnancy books." There was a smile in Pepper's voice, and when Maggie looked up she smoothed her sweater back over her abdomen. "I get the sense you might want to read them."

"Yes please," Maggie murmured. She still felt so out of place, standing in her Wyvern uniform in the middle of their ambient, comfortable home. Her boots creaked on the wooden floor.

"Oh hey," Tony said as he strode back into the main living area and handed a green smoothie to Maggie and an alarmingly orange smoothie to Pepper. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., be a pal and bring up the latest scans?"

Maggie turned to the dining room table as its surface lit up and projected a holoscreen into midair. For some reason she'd been expecting blueprints, or energy readouts, or something, so when she came face to face with a fuzzy, triangular black-and-white image of an indistinct blob, her brow furrowed.

Tony noticed Maggie's expression and laughed. "Maggot, you've never seen an ultrasound before, have you?"

Her frown deepened. "Dr Cho did ultrasounds on my back when she was prepping for surgery, but I don't see what… oh."

Like magic, her brain finally registered the blobs on the revolving holoscreen for what they were: that was the round shape of a head, so that must be a body, and there – an arm or a leg, she wasn't sure which.

Tony chattered away happily, saying something about the doctor's opinion, and the growth pattern, and how babies at that stage of development were apparently the size of a carrot. He pointed out the little black spot that was apparently the baby's perfectly healthy heart. Maggie didn't think much of the weird, blotchy scan, but she couldn't deny that those odd shapes made up a baby. Tony and Pepper's baby.

Pepper watched Maggie stare, round-eyed, at the rotating scan above the dining table. "Weird to think I'm making a little person in here," she said softly.

Maggie tore her eyes away from the scan and looked back at Pepper's stomach. "Right. Right. Am I…" she shook her head, blinking. "What can I do to help?"

Pepper smiled again and leaned over to hug Maggie. Her stomach nudged Maggie's hip and Maggie froze up, as if the slightest move she made could hurt the baby. She'd lived such a violent, bloody life, just the idea of being near something that small and vulnerable made her skin crawl with nerves.

Sensing Maggie's discomfort, Pepper pulled away. "We've got it more or less covered, I think," she said, and looked over her shoulder at Tony. He made a so-so wavy motion with his hand and she scowled at him.

"Could always use company," he added lightly.

Maggie scratched the back of her neck. The world had shifted on its axis somehow, without her noticing. "Well, I'll… I'll let you know if I find any," she said softly. The poor attempt at a joke made Pepper smile. She swallowed. "I'll… I can stay a few days."

"A few days it is then," Tony flashed a grin. He gestured at her Wyvern uniform. "But we gotta get you some better clothes, the whole space-wanderer vibe is totally clashing with the aesthetic here."

Maggie glanced down at her dark uniform, which only a couple of weeks ago had been coated in Aakon pirate blood. "I couldn't agree more."

Maggie stayed longer this time. Tony made up the bed in the spare room and Pepper laid out clothes for her, and for a few nights she stayed in their home. It felt strange, after months of living always on the move. There were no victims to protect here, no enemies to fight. No tears. She woke up when she wanted to, ate breakfast with Pepper and Tony, and explored their plot of land at her own leisure. She let Tony and Pepper fuss over her and feed her and she quietly observed how they lived their lives now.

Tony had about a million projects going on in the garage, because apparently you could retire genius but you couldn't turn it off; Maggie strode through the space looking at Iron Man models, turbine blueprints, and a half-made baby crib. "I'm making it out of Teflon steel," Tony explained. "Pepper was worried it'd look like a baby cage but I'm going to paint it, it'll be awesome. I couldn't in all good conscience make it out of wood, that shit is flammable." Maggie listened to him chatter on and felt a smile rise on her lips.

There were pictures in the kitchen: one of Howard Stark, young and barely smiling at the camera. The next was of Tony and Peter, with Peter holding his upside-down Stark Internship certificate and grinning like a dork while Tony held his fingers in a V behind his head. Maggie didn't look at that photo for too long. It made her eyes burn. The next photo was of her; she remembered Rhodey taking this one, back when it had just been her, Tony, Rhodey and Vision in the facility. In the photo she reclined on one of the common room couches, limbs akimbo, laughing at someone out of frame. She looked younger - in soul and in body. Maggie didn't look at that photo for too long either. Her eyes kept focusing on the most painful parts: her hand resting unconsciously over the pearl pendant around her neck, Vision's arm resting against the back of the couch at the edge of the shot. The happiness in her face. She hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Maggie avoided the photos after that.

Pepper had taken up gardening, and showed off her vegetable boxes and tree seedlings with pride. She and Tony filled Maggie in on all the little bumps and surprises since they'd first found out about the pregnancy. Maggie devoured every book on pregnancy and babies in the house and then took to online research, like back when she'd been learning about being a person, on the run (she closed down that thought quickly, because it brought back memories of Bucky smiling softly at her with her nose in her research when he thought she didn't notice). After a few days Maggie was able to keep up with Pepper and Tony's lingo-filled discussions about the development of their baby, and she felt privately confident she could assist Pepper adequately if she went into premature labor at any point.

Maggie ran a background check on Pepper's doctor and midwife.

They watched movies at night after dinner, and Maggie watched Pepper and Tony move in and out of each other's orbit, noting the sheer happiness and love that rested over their grief like a balm. They wore it well.

When she lay on the startlingly soft spare bed in the dead of night, unable to sleep, Maggie wondered if she should be jealous. But she couldn't identify a shred of envy inside herself. It hurt to be in this house and witness a blossoming future, she couldn't deny that, but on the whole she felt such a rush of relief that was almost dizzying. Tony was happy here. He didn't suffer like she did, he was safe, and loved, with a beautiful future on his horizon.

That's why you've got to keep fighting, she realized. She stared up at the moonlight glowing on the ceiling. To keep them safe.

She rolled over and closed her eyes, but not before another thought intruded:

To keep yourself sane.

On the second night Tony and Maggie sat on the couch in front of the crackling fireplace, sipping tumblers of whisky. Maggie was curled up against an oversized pillow, wearing a band t-shirt and a pair of soft sweatpants. She hadn't felt so comfortable in months. The shadows in this room weren't oppressive, or a place to hide. They just were, and instead of their dark shroud Maggie found herself drawn to the warm firelight.

Pepper had gone to bed an hour ago, though Maggie suspected she was hiding in her bedroom hoping that Maggie and Tony would… talk. Or something.

She smiled into her tumbler of whiskey. Pepper Potts was a smart lady.

She realized they'd been sitting in silence for at least a few minutes now, and looked over at Tony. He balanced his whiskey glass in one hand, frowning at the fire.

"What's on your mind?" she murmured.

He tore his eyes away from the fire but the frown remained on his face. "Tell me about B- about Bucky."

Maggie felt her face go utterly blank even as a sharp lance of pain plunged through her chest. Normally it was her own brain that caught her unawares with thoughts about Bucky, and she'd more or less gotten used to that. But if there was one thing she never expected Tony to say… the glass in Maggie's hand creaked, so she carefully eased off the pressure. He's never used the name Bucky before. He'd only ever used the name Barnes, and that was when he mentioned him at all.

Maggie composed herself carefully, though the lance of pain in her chest made her breath come short and sharp. "What?" she croaked.

"He was your Pepper," Tony said frankly, eyes still fixed on her face. "I want to… I want to know about him. Should've asked a long time ago."

The lance of pain turned into a deep, sluggish ache at that. Oh, should'ves and could'ves. I've got so many of those. She felt like something was constricting her throat. "What do you…" she cleared her throat and shifted, pulling her knees to her chest. "What do you want to know?"

Tony shrugged. "Everything, I guess. What did, ah…" he scratched the back of his head. "What made you realize he was it? The one for you, I mean."

Despite herself, Maggie smiled. Tony was trying so hard. And then she thought about how to answer his question, casting her mind back, and her smile softened. Tony's eyes widened as he watched her smile.

"I, uh, that's a difficult question. I guess…" Maggie sipped her whiskey, trying to think back through her haze of grief. "Well, the first thing I realized was that he was attractive." Tony's nose wrinkled. "We were sitting at a coffee shop in Australia, not doing anything in particular, and I was looking at him and out of the blue I just… I realized that Bucky Barnes was attractive."

"Just like that," Tony said wryly.

"Just like that," she echoed. "I'd been attracted to him for a while, I think, but that was the moment where I actually figured it out. Then… well, there were a few weeks of second guessing and learning about myself, and then we went on… I suppose it was a first date. I didn't really know that at the time, though. I called it a Fuck You, HYDRA party."

Tony burst out laughing, surprising them both. "I'm sorry, a what?"

Maggie explained the concept quickly, smiling sheepishly. "That's why I learned to juggle. For my Fuck You, HYDRA skill I juggled on a street corner, and earned like fifty dollars. And then Bucky… he took me dancing." She shrugged, and thought back to the original question. "I don't know if it was one thing. I learned to be a person at the same time as I fell in love with Bucky, I think. It wasn't a mistake, and it wasn't… it wasn't that he was the only person around."

"What was it?" Tony asked softly.

Maggie unwrapped her arms from around her knees and gestured frustratedly. "I… you can't just… what is it that you love about Pepper?" she asked.

He blinked. "Everything."

"There you go then," she said. "Bucky… once we got out of HYDRA, I got to know the man bubbling up from underneath the machine, and he constantly surprised me. He was kind. He was patient, too, when I got frustrated or just took a little longer to understand. He understood me, saw me in a way that no one else had. And I understood him, too. I always knew where he was in a room, even if I couldn't see him." The corner of her mouth ticked up. "Sam called it telepathy once." She shook her head. God, this hurt, but now she'd started she couldn't seem to stop. "And he was really funny, too. Life was difficult for me at first, because I didn't understand anything that wasn't death and violence. Bucky showed me how to laugh at myself and at the world."

"Didn't seem all that funny when I met him," Tony said, his voice gentle despite the teasing tone.

"Can you blame him?" Maggie replied, equally gentle. "I think if things had been different, you'd have gotten along with him. Like, let me think… oh! For his ninety eighth birthday" – Tony pulled another face and she flapped a hand at him – "Oh, please. For his birthday, I gave him a tool I'd custom made, so he could service his arm. Know what he called it?"

Tony shrugged.

"A Swiss Army Knife."

Tony let out another burst of laughter, then his eyes shot wide open as if surprised at himself. "Wait, didn't he lose his arm in Switzerland?"

Maggie's smile just grew.

"God, that's terrible," he complained, even though he was still chuckling into his whiskey.

"He was terrible," she replied. Her voice trembled over the word was, but she was smiling.

Tony rubbed his hand across his jaw, his dark eyes on hers. "Tell me more."

For the rest of her time at the house, Tony and Maggie spoke about Bucky.

Tony already knew mostly everything about Maggie's life before he'd met her, but they'd always skimmed over Bucky. But this time Tony asked about the man: what he liked, what made him laugh, and what he and Maggie had done together.

They talked while tinkering over projects in the garage, and over smoothies on the porch. They talked while Pepper watched them, tears in her eyes. The conversation naturally led to talking about their fond memories of the others they'd lost: Peter, Vision, Wanda… well, the list went on.

It was the most Maggie had said about Bucky since he died. Until now he'd been a ghost buried deep in her heart, but putting his memory to words felt a little like bringing him back to life. She told her brother everything, and she cried. She cried so much, she wondered how she didn't die of dehydration.

Tony got to know Bucky Barnes, through the woman who loved him. And he realized that he couldn't find any more resentment inside himself.

When the time came to leave, Maggie changed back into her uniform and hugged Tony and Pepper at the door. Tony asked her to stay, and she told him she needed to go. It felt slightly strange, as if she was play-acting this normality: just a sister dropping in for a few days to visit her brother and his wife at their home. But then Tony said "tell that cranky blue alien she's welcome any time," and the normality slipped away.

"Will do, but I doubt she'll take you up on it," Maggie warned. "Bye, guys. Be safe, and let me know if you need any help."

"Come back soon," Pepper said softly, and Tony nodded vigorously beside her.

And it didn't even feel like a lie when Maggie replied: "I will."

She unfurled her wings and kicked into the sky, sending crunchy autumn leaves spiraling in her wake.

Back on the front porch, Pepper wound her arm around Tony's waist. "She's going to be okay," she murmured.

Tony watched his sister get smaller and smaller in the sky. "I think she just might."

Culver University

"Hey Bruce."

"Gah!" Bruce Banner flinched at his workbench and whirled around, hand on his chest. When he saw Maggie standing in the doorway of his cluttered laboratory, dressed casually in jeans, boots, and brown leather jacket, he scowled. "Don't you know it's a bad idea to sneak up on the Hulk?" he muttered. There were shadows under his eyes and tired lines across his face, though he still looked better than the last time she'd seen him, in the facility the day after Thanos died. Though she thought she caught a faint pallor of green in his skin tone. Could've just been the lighting.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Figured I'd take my chances."

Once he'd recovered from his shock, Bruce dropped his hand from his chest and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hi," he said. "It's good to see you."

"Good to see you too," Maggie said. She didn't quite manage a smile, but her voice was warm.

Culver University had practically been abandoned after the Decimation, but Bruce had commandeered an entire research laboratory and had by all accounts been working non stop since then. Maggie's eyes tracked across the room, taking in the workspaces covered in whirring machines, samples of what looked like blood, stained coffee cups, and boards covered in scribbled calculations.

"What brings you to my humble abode?" Bruce asked wryly.

Maggie glanced back at him. "I've just spent the last few days at Tony and Pepper's, and I thought I'd… check in with everyone."

"Right," Bruce nodded. "So you found about the…" he trailed off, awkwardly gesturing at his own stomach.

"I did."

"And are we feeling good about that, or…?" He peered at her from behind his glasses, seemingly regretting that he'd brought it up at all.

"It's… weird," she said. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around… well. A whole new person. But I'm really glad they're doing okay." She nodded at him. "Have you visited them much?"

Bruce scratched the back of his neck. "Um. No." He held up his hands. "I'd like to, don't get me wrong, but right now I'm kind of… radioactive. I don't think I should be around pregnant people."

Maggie's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"You're fine where you are!" he said, waving a hand. "But maybe don't come any closer."

She took a step back just in case, and looked back to the blackboards covered in chalky calculations. It took her about half a minute to parse them, but once she had, her eyes widened. "Hang on, these readings… are you subjecting yourself to this level of radiation?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's – I'm fine, stop looking at me like that – I've been trying to… connect with the Hulk, I guess is the best way to put it. He's a part of me, I'm trying to strengthen those bonds."

Maggie itched to stride into the lab and look around, dig through Bruce's research, but gamma radiation was no joke. And at these levels, if she was reading them right, anything he touched would retain lingering traces of the stuff. "Bruce, I…" she frowned. "I get trying to make yourself whole, but… be careful not to destroy yourself in the process. Self-experimentation hasn't gone super well for you in the past."

"I disagree," he said politely, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "Y'know, Tony once theorized that the Hulk was already inside me before the accident, or… if not him, then something. That the gamma accident just brought that out." He shrugged. "Maybe I'm becoming what I'm meant to be."

Maggie let out a breath. "Well, I can't argue with that." Her gaze flicked to the blackboards and back to Bruce. "Looks like you're having trouble with the Compton scattering effect in the absorption process." Bruce's brow lowered. "You could, uh… you could send me your notes, if you wanted. I'd be happy to take a look in between missions, maybe help you expedite this… whatever this is."

Bruce's frown lifted as a tentative smile crossed his tired face. "I… might take you up on that." He lifted a hand. "Take care, Maggie."

"You too, Bruce."

New York City

The city was quieter than the last time she'd visited. There were no more fires burning, no more screams and cries and people desperately trying to find their loved ones. Those who remained continued with whatever life was left. Some streets and public areas had been cleared, but abandoned vehicles and broken buildings still littered the city.

No one had taken down the missing person posters.

It only took a few well-placed questions in the Brooklyn area before she was directed to a red-brick block of apartments that Maggie suspected used to be the housing authority. It certainly had the right vibe – as she walked inside and strode up the stairs (the elevator had fallen into disrepair), she was eyeballed by groups of people sitting in the lobby, in communal lounge areas, and even kids playing board games in the corridors. No one looked at her suspiciously, though. Just with confusion.

She came up to apartment 7C, a plain wooden door like all the rest, and raised her hand to knock.

"Maggie!"

Her hand dropped and she looked over her shoulder. "Steve – hi."

He hastened up the corridor towards her, looking more domestic than she'd ever seen him in dusty jeans, sneakers, and a navy blue sweater. His eyes were wide, and his brow furrowed as he stopped a few feet away. "Hi, I…" he opened and closed his mouth, taking her in. "Wow, I didn't expect to see you here."

"That's usually how surprise visits go." After a second's hesitation Maggie smiled thinly and opened her arms. He moved in to hug her instantly, his large arms warm against her back. Maggie hadn't had much human contact lately, so she closed her eyes and held him back.

When Steve pulled away, he looked her over as if scanning for injuries. "What's wrong?"

The thin smile reappeared. "Nothing outside the usual," she said. "I just thought I'd visit."

"Oh." His face relaxed a little. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Just got here. Where've you been?"

Steve pulled his keys out of his pocket and moved to the door. "I, uh… there's a group of us who've been working through the neighborhood clearing out apartments – packing things into boxes and taking them to storage facilities, that kind of thing." The door clicked open.

"That sounds… difficult," Maggie murmured as he held the door open for her.

"It's not easy," he acknowledged. "Though in some places around the world the property doesn't get stored, just destroyed. Most people don't do that though. We, uh… I guess we need to hold on to things."

Of course we do, Maggie said as she strode into Steve's apartment. Her fingers strayed to the pearl pendant and Kimoyo bead tucked under her shirt. It helps us pretend that our loved ones will come back. She lifted her gaze, taking in Steve's living space: it was a simple apartment, an open plan living room and kitchen with wood paneled cabinets and faded furniture, and a bedroom and bathroom sealed off by a door with a thin crack near the hinge. The windows in the far wall offered a view of the terraced streets of Bed-Stuy. The apartment was furnished simply, but it was clear that Steve had made an effort for this to be a space where he lived – ornaments on the counter, art on the walls. A gramophone by the television. A collection of photographs on the mantel that she couldn't bear to look at.

Steve bustled past her as she looked around, dropping his keys on the counter and turning on the lights. "Make yourself comfortable," he said. "Do you want a drink?"

"Sure," she said faintly, and came over to perch on one of the stools lined against his kitchen counter.

"So you're back from… from space," Steve observed, moving about his kitchen. He looked oversized in the small area, but not out of place. Maggie just watched him. He moved differently from how she remembered – before he'd been driven, all action and determination, but now it seemed the pace of his life was slower. Sadness hung about him, changing the way he moved and the way he held himself. It rested in his eyes. "How have you been?"

"I'm meeting back up with Carol and the others soon. It's been hard work, but we're seeing less places in outright chaos nowadays."

"That's, uh… that's good." He turned around with a pair of beer bottles and offered her one. "You look… better."

Better than the last time he'd seen her, hollow-eyed and about to leave the planet on a spaceship with two aliens and a human pilot who could shoot glowing energy out of her hands.

Maggie sipped her beer. "You too." There was more life in his face. He looked less like he was about to fall apart. "What's it like?" she gestured the bottle around at his apartment. "Living a normal… well, as close to a normal life as you can get these days."

Steve rested his elbows on his kitchen counter and shrugged. "Most days I think I'm okay. I stay busy keeping people fed and warm, or helping the repair crews build or clear debris away. Whatever we need. We're starting a therapy group this month. And we're also helping the council finish the memorial for the Vanished in Central Park."

Maggie rolled her beer between her fingers. "Most days," she echoed.

His mouth twisted wryly. "Everyone here lost their loved ones." Maggie knew that it shouldn't hit her so hard, but it still did. Steve tipped his head back to drink his beer. "I did too. But I also failed. Most people just had their loved ones vanish into thin air with no warning, but I knew what Thanos wanted to do, and I had a chance to stop him." He shrugged helplessly. "But I couldn't."

A long silence rang out in the apartment. Maggie drank her beer, and wondered why she'd come at all.

"I heard about Tony and Pepper," Steve eventually said, his tone forcefully light. "That's… I was really glad to hear that. It's great." He cringed at the forced tone in his voice, and then met her eyes. "I really am, I promise. I guess I just forgot how to be excited about things."

"I know how you feel," she said softly. "How'd you find out? Did Tony tell you?"

Steve's brow furrowed. "No, we haven't… we haven't spoken since…"

I got nothing for you, Cap. Maggie let out a long breath. No trust. Liar. "Right."

Steve swallowed, then smiled painfully. "But you're going to be an aunt." Again, that false-happy tone. "That must be exciting."

Maggie's mouth twisted. "Don't get me wrong, I'm… I'm happy about it. But like you said; I don't know how to be excited about things anymore." She shrugged. "I don't even really know how to think about it. It's not exactly my area of expertise, I… I've never known a pregnant person."

"Me either," Steve says thoughtfully. "Not in a long time. Last time would've been Bu- Bucky's mom, probably."

Bucky's mom, when she was pregnant with Shirley. Maggie took a drink, turning over the complicated intertwining tangle of pain that simple recollection brought up. If Steve's expression was anything to go by, he was thinking along the same lines.

"Bucky would've been proud of you," she said, probably only able to get the sentence out clearly because she didn't think about it before she said it. Steve glanced up, his blue eyes wide. She took another sip of her beer and waved a hand. "Helping people. Making a life here. S'good."

Steve swallowed, eyes welling. "You know he'd be proud of-"

Maggie grimaced and held up a hand to stop him. "No, I… I just realized I've hit my emotional capacity for today. Sorry." Because she could feel a scream coming on, and these walls looked thin. "Let's, uh… talk about something else." She jerked her head around at his apartment. "This the housing authority? You punishing yourself by living here or something?" She could see from Steve's wide eyes that he was taken aback at the sudden shift in topic, so she elaborated: "Not to put too fine a point on it, but there's plenty of free real estate in New York right now. Why choose this place?"

Steve's confusion cleared, though his eyes still swam with pain. "I'm not punishing myself." He straightened and looked around. "This place… it had a community before the Decimation. And I guess people just gravitated towards it afterwards. People want to be around people, now. Reminds them they're not alone."

Maggie thought I don't know about that, but she didn't say it. "I heard that since most TV channels got back up and running there's a new one with just old movies and TV shows, that sort of thing."

"Right," Steve said, watching her carefully. "You want to…"

"Yes. Please." Anything to keep from talking. Steve was her friend, but just the presence of him brought up so much pain she couldn't bear.

They moved to Steve's faded leather couch, and he switched on the small boxy TV propped on the cabinet. For the rest of the afternoon they watched re-runs of Star Trek, intermittently drinking and talking about the show. It felt normal, and it allowed them to avoid the painful topics that lurked all around them.

When Maggie left she and Steve hugged one another and promised to stay in touch. And as she walked down the housing authority stairs, Maggie wondered at the sinking feeling in her stomach.

When she reached the ground floor, she understood it. This is life now. Every relationship and every interaction overshadowed by the people she had lost. There was no escaping it. No way to make it better.

She walked out of the red brick building and saw a poster on the bus stop outside that hadn't been there when she walked in; it was one of the REPENT posters, with an image of a man's silhouette fading to dust.

On her way past, Maggie tore down the poster and ripped it to shreds.

Avengers Facility, Upstate New York

Natasha and Happy were waiting out the front of the facility when she arrived. Maggie retracted her wings and her nanotech suit, leaving her back in jeans and a leather jacket, and rushed forwards to hug Happy. He patted her back, trying to be gruff when he said "good to see you, Maggie", but it just came out heartfelt and slightly tearful.

Maggie pulled away and turned to Natasha, who to Maggie's surprise offered a hug of her own. She didn't hold her tight and secure like Steve had, or warmly like Happy, but there was a kind of comfort in the embrace all the same. Natasha was almost gentle with her.

Natasha stepped back and eyed her. "How are you doing, Stark?" It was impossible to tell from her composed face if Nebula had told her what Maggie had tried to do on the Aakon pirate fortress.

Maggie shrugged. "About the same. How about you two?"

Happy made a noncommittal shrugging gesture, and Natasha's face didn't shift from its composed mask.

"Busy," she murmured, then jerked her head towards the facility. "You coming?"

The monthly holocall between the remaining on-duty Avengers was scheduled for that morning, and Maggie stood by Natasha's side when the call went live. It felt strange to be back in the facility, walking the corridors that she'd once called home. It still felt like home, but… empty. There wasn't anything for her here anymore. She still couldn't make herself go into her own room.

In the warm wooden atmosphere of the Avengers common room, holographic figures flickered into existence. First Rhodey, in a t-shirt and jeans, who nodded to them both in greeting. Next came the red-and-gold figure of Okoye, standing straight-spined as always, and beside her the figures of Nebula, Rocket, and Carol popped up. It looked like Carol was back on the Benatar, since she appeared in the same frame as Nebula and Rocket.

"What's up, Wyvern?" said Rocket, giving her a little wave.

Maggie felt a smile form on her lips. "Just revisiting my corner of the universe. How's the ship?"

"The aft engine failed," Nebula cut in, her lips pursed. "It seems someone forgot to check the ion chargers."

Rocket threw up his hands. "They're meant to be self-sustainable, and there's plenty of other things to check on this hunk of-"

"You still need to check them-"

"Guys," Carol cut in, holding a hand between them. They fell silent, though Nebula crossed her arms and scowled. Carol rolled her eyes. "What's the situation on Earth?"

Natasha nodded to Okoye, who started giving her report of the last month's events, including the upheavals in the global economy and the rioting. She finished with: "We were going to request that you come to help us suppress the death gangs in West Africa, Ms Stark, but we believe we have it under control now."

Maggie nodded to Okoye, meeting her eyes. "Understood. If you do need me though, just say the word."

They spoke for a few more minutes about the unfolding violence in the Baltic states, before Natasha nodded and turned to Carol again. "What's going on on your end?"

"We haven't got much to report," Carol explained. "We've been monitoring the situation in the Sigma planetary alliance, and we recently got a tip that there's been anarchist activity on a nearby Kree outworld." Her serious eyes turned to Maggie. "We could use you on our next mission, Maggie. Think you're ready to be picked up?"

Maggie felt everyone's eyes turn on her. And she felt… not happy, but self-assured. This was her team, this was her purpose. These people and the problems they tried to solve across the universe. Her brother was happy, her friends were making lives for themselves, and she had a mission. It was some kind of a life, and that was what she needed.

As reasons to live went, protecting the universe wasn't half bad.

Maggie straightened and nodded to Carol. "I'm ready. I've just got one more stop."

New Asgard, Norway

New Asgard looked like much of the other small Norwegian settlements that Maggie had flown over on her way here: small, cottage-like houses with peaked roofs scattered across the green hillsides, gathered around a central town square, sprawling down to the craggy rock shore. Seagulls wheeled over the sea wall of the small port, diving down to snatch up fish guts. Smoke furled up from chimneys, and fishing boats trawled out from the port, chopping through the waves. There was no sign from up here that in this town lived immortal alien refugees.

The crisp, salty sea air blew in Maggie's face as she tilted her wings downward for her descent, and she shivered slightly in the chill.

She landed light-footed on the town square cobblestones and retracted her wings and uniform. She then turned to find herself being threatened by a dark-haired woman wielding a spear. The woman wore a thick yellow puffer vest over an intricately designed woolen sweater, and her gumboots squeaked on the cobblestones. Her spear gleamed in the dim northern light, its sharp barb glinting.

"Who're you?" the woman demanded, her stance low and ready for battle. Her eyes were hard.

Maggie looked her over. "Who're you?"

The tip of the spear came level with Maggie's chin. "I asked first," the woman challenged.

For a moment Maggie considered fighting her, but that was probably not such a good idea given that the population of this town were once considered gods. "My name's Maggie," she said, holding her palms out. "I know Thor."

After a few moments, the woman straightened and spun her spear before resting the butt of it on the ground with a clink. She lifted her chin. "What, you want a prize?"

"I'd like to see him, actually."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "He asked you to come?"

"… No?"

The woman's face fell, and she shifted her weight. "Oh. Alright, then. He's this way." With that the woman turned on her heel and strode off, not bothering with a second glance in Maggie's direction.

Maggie blinked, and then hustled after the woman. She set a quick pace through New Asgard, leading Maggie past the large repossessed church and a quiet market, Maggie peered around as she walked. People here, Asgardians and humans alike by the looks of things, were just… living. Fishing, farming, selling wares in stalls. It was a quiet town, and they apparently didn't get a lot of visitors; every person they passed stared at Maggie as if she were the alien.

"So," Maggie said as she strode half a pace behind the woman with the spear. "I answered your questions, I think it's your turn."

"You asked a question?"

"Yeah." Maggie skirted past a barrel of what appeared to be live fish, and met the unabashed stare of the old man in a fishing hat sitting beside it. "Who are you?"

The woman looked over her shoulder, flatly unimpressed. "Everyone calls me Valkyrie."

"And you… what, protect this place?"

"There's not much this place needs protecting from," Valkyrie explained, sweeping the butt of her spear to encompass the town. "But when strange women with metal wings show up with no warning, yeah."

"I didn't exactly have a phone number I could call."

"Hmph. We're here."

Maggie glanced up. Valkyrie had brought her to a white-bricked two-story building with a peaked roof. Brass lettering over the heavy wood door read: TAVERN.

Maggie looked back at Valkyrie, who stared flatly back at her.

"It's ten AM," Maggie pointed out.

"I'm aware." The other woman grabbed the brass door handle and tugged it open, releasing the sound of clinking glasses and low conversation onto the street.

"Alright then." Maggie slipped past Valkyrie and stepped into the tavern, where the warmth inside washed over her and the fumes of salt and mead tickled her nose. Valkyrie stepped after her, swinging the door shut.

Once Maggie's eyes had adjusted to the lower light inside the tavern, she looked around. The New Asgard Tavern was a warm, homey place illuminated by hanging lights. The bar itself stretched around two walls in a curve, and the rest of the main room was filled with benches, stools, and long tables, where people could sit together to enjoy a pint of ale after a day working in their new home. Or apparently, at ten on a Saturday morning, gather to hear a story told by a hefty lady wearing sheepskin jacket with her auburn hair piled on her head like a crown.

Maggie and Valkyrie stood just inside the door as the woman spoke to the gathered crowd of about twenty Asgardians, her sonorous voice resonating throughout the tavern: "After Skadi and Njord had slept for nine nights at Njord's bright, warm home on the beach, Skadi could bear it no longer. Just as Njord had despised her mountain home of darkness and thunder, she could not stand his home. The cries of the seabirds grated on her ears, and she found it impossible to sleep." The woman turned slowly, eyeing each person in her audience. "So Skadi departed for the mountains, and Njord remained by the sea, and the two parted ways forever."

When the auburn-haired woman bowed her head the tavern burst into applause, clinking their pint glasses against the table and raucously cheering her.

Valkyrie nudged Maggie. "Asgardians still enjoy a good storytelling. He is through there." She nodded towards a door at the other end of the tavern.

Maggie nodded and pushed through the group of laughing, drinking Asgardians who milled about the tavern discussing the story. The few of them who noticed her stared, but most were too busy talking to their friends. She reached the other door and pushed it open with a creak, wincing when the smells of stale beer and sour breath grew stronger.

The door opened to a smaller room, dimmer than the main tavern, with a single bar and a set of stools. A lone man sat at the bar. Thick, shoulder-length hair obscured his face as he hunched over a pint glass on the stained wooden bar. Over Maggie's shoulder, Valkyrie tutted.

Maggie cleared her throat and the man looked up. A beat of silence passed.

"Lady Wyvern!" Thor flung his arms wide and slid off his seat at the bar, making the whole room shake when his boots hit the floor.

Maggie's eyes widened. Thor looked very different. Instead of the glittering armor he'd boasted the last time she'd seen him he wore sweatpants and a thick woolen cardigan. He'd grown out his hair and his beard a surprising amount in the months that had passed, and it might have been the low light of the tavern but he looked thicker about the face and neck than she remembered. "… Thor. Hi."

He strode across the empty room, arms spread. "What brings you to this miserable, cold-"

"Thor," Valkyrie interjected crossly.

"- beautiful neck of the world?"

Maggie held out her hand to stop Thor from trying to hug her, and he wrapped his right hand around hers. His skin felt very hot. "I'm on Earth for another hour or so before Rocket, Nebula and Carol pick me up," she explained. "I thought I'd visit."

"Wonderful!" Thor's mouth curved up and the skin around his eyes wrinkled, but she recognized no joy in his eyes. "Would you like a drink?"

Maggie glanced sideways at Valkyrie, who just watched her flatly. "Sure."

Thor rang a bell on a chain three times, and the bar staff promptly brought in three large flagons of what smelled like beer; one for Maggie, and two for Thor. After checking that Thor actually knew Maggie and she wasn't a subtle invader, Valkyrie left the room with a scowl.

Maggie watched Thor chug his first beer with a mixture of trepidation and admiration – the man could drink, she'd give him that. He drank his second beer more slowly, and as they drank they chatted about New Asgard; who lived there now and how the establishment of the town was going. He talked about the TV channels up and running again, and the video games he'd been playing. Thor spoke about his Asgardian friends and the ones he'd met on Sakaar – some kind of rock creature and a short alien with scissor hands, if Maggie understood his description correctly.

As Thor talked and drank, Maggie watched him closely. He flashed smiles and cracked jokes and let out hearty laughs, but it all felt… superficial. He spoke as if he was proud of this new town that he'd set up, as if he lived well and simply each day, but it was pretty clear for Maggie to see how he'd actually been spending time: here, in this dingy room in the tavern, drinking alone. Talking loudly about how 'they' had gained approval from the local Norwegians to settle here (by the sounds of things 'they' was actually 'Valkyrie'), Thor ordered another round, and either didn't see or ignored the disgruntled look from the bartender who brought the drinks.

After twenty minutes, the false merriness that Thor put on started to grate against Maggie. At least Tony's happiness had been genuine. Thor was faking it and hoping no one would notice.

"You know," she said carefully, "Carol, Rhodey, Nebula and I are doing okay keeping a handle on things in space, but we could always use another hand." Thor's eyes stilled, and he covered it up by sculling his beer once more. Maggie continued: "You're strong, Thor, you could help so many people-"

"Nope," came his low voice, and Maggie waited for him to set down the pint glass so she could see his face. He wiped froth from his beard, and then smiled thinly. "I can't help anyone. So thanks, but no thanks."

Maggie blinked. "I don't think-"

"No, you don't-" he inhaled sharply through his nose and hunched over himself further, avoiding her eyes by staring at his empty glass. "I already helped. Chopped Thanos's head right off his shoulders." Thor's face went hard at the mention of the titan, and then he looked back at Maggie. "And look where that got us." He gestured to the dim, sour-smelling tavern room.

Maggie met his bleary, red-lined eyes and her already bruised heart ached for him. Maggie's grief and failure had hollowed her out, but Thor bore his burden on his shoulders, like a king. And it was crushing him.

She was still staring at him, trying to find a response, when Thor sniffed and leaned back. "Anyway, I've got a place here now. It's up on the hill, a little ways away from the main village, but that's good. Gets me out of everyone's hair." He cleared his throat. "You should see it, Maggie – there's a flat screen TV, wifi, an x-box. You should see it!"

Maggie hid her frown. "No, that's… I probably should be going soon."

"Right, right. Things to do, people to see." He smiled thinly.

Her teeth ground together. "It's not a pleasure trip, Thor, I'm-"

"Of course, of course. Drink for the road?" he queried, already reaching to the dangling bell.

Maggie abruptly set down the pint glass that she'd only half finished. "No," she said softly. "It's… it's been a pleasure visiting you, but I have to go." The tone of her voice stilled him, and for a moment she saw remorse glimmer in his eyes. She reached over to pat his shoulder. "You take care of yourself, Thor. It's okay to not be okay."

He smiled another smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I'm fine-"

"And that's okay too," she said, then stood on the sticky tavern floor. "Until next time."

"Next time," Thor agreed. His brows drew together and he gestured to her glass. "Are you… going to finish that?"

Maggie let out a slow breath. She didn't know how to fix this. And she hardly had the moral high ground to fault Thor's coping methods considering how she'd been going these months since Thanos snapped his fingers. So she just sighed and shook her head. "It's all yours, Thor."

"Fantastic. Have a nice trip, Maggie."

Maggie waved on her way out the door, but he was already looking into the half-empty pint of beer.

Maggie took a deep lungful of the fresh, salty air outside the tavern, and squinted in the sunlight. She felt a little dizzy, possibly from the fumes inside Thor's dark corner of the tavern and possibly because she'd underestimated the Asgardian liquor.

"You talk some sense into him?"

Maggie prided herself on not flinching. She shielded her eyes from the sun and turned until she spotted Valkyrie leaning against the white bricks of the tavern, arms folded across her chest.

She shook her head. "I don't think that's something that other people can fix for him," she replied, jerking her head at the tavern. "He's got to be able to do it by himself first, here." She tapped her chest.

Valkyrie grimaced. "That's what I'm worried about."

Maggie nodded, and looked down when the metal band around her wrist beeped and glowed with a red dot; a proximity alert for the Benatar. "Well," she said. "I guess… see you around, Valkyrie."

"Try calling first next time. You can find the town hall's number on google."

Maggie sheepishly saluted. "Yes, ma'am." Then she flung her wings wide, metal flashing in the sun, and jumped into the sky.

Back on the ground Valkyrie watched her soar into the air, hand shielding her eyes.

Maggie flew up to meet the Benatar where it hovered in the Earth's stratosphere, its ion engines burning and the orange and silver plating gleaming in the sun. She buzzed over the cockpit and looped underneath the ship, hovering until the entrance pod opened up.

Once she was inside and the hatch had closed behind her, Maggie looked up to see Carol waiting for her.

"Hey," Maggie nodding. Carol stood in her red and blue armor, arms crossed and a warm look on her face. "Where are we off to?"

"Efhlor." At Maggie's quirked brow she shrugged. "That Kree outworld I mentioned in the meeting. And apparently we've got a whole lot of unfriendlies waiting for us."

Maggie rolled her shoulders. "Let's go kick their asses."

Carol's teeth flashed. "Good to have you back, Stark."

Carol was smiling, but Maggie still couldn't quite manage that, so she just nodded. "Good to be back."

Carol clapped her on the shoulder, grinning, and they both headed into the cockpit.

Nebula looked up from where she was programming coordinates. "You look better." Her blue face remained impassive, but Maggie knew her tells. She was glad Maggie was back.

Rocket looked over. "What, no gimp suit?"

Maggie glanced down at herself. She'd dissolved her wings and dark uniform, leaving her in jeans, a shirt, and a brown leather jacket. "Guess not."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Freaking Terrans."

"Hey," Carol warned.

Rocket held up his hands. "Alright, alright. Efhlor, coming right up."