Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the first time in her eight years of life on Earth, Kara feels truly exhausted.

“I still can’t quite believe all this, y’know?” –Winn says, his voice haunted. He holds an oversized plasma rifle, ripped from the hands of one of the thousands of dead and dying aliens that still litter the streets of New York. This is the third rifle Winn has picked up, given neither of them know how – or if – the weapon can be reloaded. “Fighting aliens is way scarier than Halo makes it out to be.”

Kara lifts a wrecked minivan – her prodigious strength making the maneuver all but effortless – dragging it to the nearest sidewalk in an effort to clear the street. “Yeah. Space can be all kinds of terrifying.”

“I guess you’d know.”

The comment stings, even though Kara knows her friend doesn’t intend any harm. She shrugs. “Well, I never left Krypton. Not before I came here, anyway. But, I was old enough to catch interstellar news broadcasts. Earth is lucky; it’s not important enough yet to catch much attention.”

Winn raises an eyebrow, absently shooting an alien that’s still twitching. A purple-black splatter joins the already massive stains on his clothing. “Call me crazy, but I don’t think these guys agree.”

Kara sighs. “I guess. I really can’t imagine why they’d try to invade. This planet is great at support life, but...not much else. I don’t think there’s anything on Earth worth fighting interstellar war over.”

Winn laughs. “Geez, Kara. Way to kick us when we’re down.”

She blushes, but the barb makes her laugh a bit, too. “Sorry. Eight years here and I still manage to put my alien foot in my alien mouth.”

“That’s ok. Happens to us humans all the time, too.” –he says, tiredly sitting on the dented hood of what looks like a bisected sports car. “So...could all of your people fly?”

Kara floats upwards, removing a dangling alien corpse that had somehow found itself stuck atop a lamp post. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I remember my biology lessons, and flight definitely wasn’t covered there, but they did mention we were ‘built’ to colonize other worlds. Genetic engineering, y’know? The younger the star we orbit, the stronger we get.”

“Isn’t our sun middle-aged?”

She winks. “Yup.”

Winn mock-shivers. “I don’t know that I want to picture you more powerful than you already are. Kind of a terrifying prospect.”

“Eh, it’s a moot point. I’m happy kicking it with you earthlings.” –she says, smirking.

Winn sets down his weapon carefully – for all the hands-on experience he’s gotten with it, the rifles have been known to fire at the slightest provocation. “Good to know.” –he says, picking the cleanest bit of cloth from his shirt and rubbing sweat, tears, and gods know what else out of his eyes. “God, I’m tired. We should catch some sleep.”

Kara tosses the alien corpse aside, adding to a mounting pile on the sidewalk. “Go ahead, Winn. I’ve got this.” –she says, despite herself.

“Let me guess: you don’t need to sleep, either?”

“Not as much as a human, that’s for sure.” –she says, then sits beside him. “But, I’ll admit, I’m kinda running on fumes, here.”

He bumps his shoulder against hers. “So, let’s leave all of this to the spooky S.H.I.E.L.D. people.”

Kara frowns. “Don’t make me regret telling you everything I know about the super-secret paramilitary organization that found me. You’re not even supposed to mention their name out loud.”

Winn raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, as a Quinjet with a particular sense of irony soars overhead. “They’re not exactly a secret anymore, Kara. Last time my phone had any charge, ‘S.H.I.E.L.D.’ was just behind ‘Tony Stark’ and ‘BattleOfNY’ on the trending topics.” –he says, then shakes his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many people can’t spell ‘shield’, by the way.”

She crosses her arms, indignant. “English can be hard. Don’t judge.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure.” –he says, then rises from his brief respite. “I guess the question is, then, what’s our next move?”

“Well, since we both refuse to take a break, we might as well check out Midtown. That’s where these guys hit hardest.”

“It’s also where you’ll find the Avengers.” –he reminds her.

Kara purses her lips. “That’s ok. I mean, S.H.I.E.L.D. clearly didn’t want my help, so the Avengers probably don’t even know I exist, right?” –she asks, hopeful.

“Fat chance, Kara. You and I both know there were a lot of cellphones out. You’re probably on camera, shooting lasers out of your eyes. If they didn’t know before, they definitely do, now.”

She sighs. “It’s not technically a laser beam. It’s more like...a hyper-concentrated solar energy stream contained by an electromagnetic tunnel about as wide as my pupils.”

“So not the point.”

“I know, I know. I just...I’m scared I made a heck of a rash decision, Winn. I could’ve stayed inside the Bugle. Kept my head down, pretended to be just another terrified human. Maybe I should’ve. But I didn’t. And I doubt the consequences are gonna be limited to unemployment.”

Winn nods. He’d seen her, alright – Kara had straight up jumped out of the Bugle’s top floor, straight into an incoming alien sled. Winn had thought her suicidal, but then, he hadn’t known that his best friend was the last daughter of Krypton, an alien whom, as far as he could tell, was pretty much invulnerable to everything.

Kara shrugs, offering a shaky smile. “I guess I might as well start making peace with that choice. Even if that means saying goodbye to life as Kara Danvers.”

“Kara Zor-El does have a nice ring to it.”

She laughs, then jumps up, her spirits somewhat back up. “Come on, then. Let’s see if the Iron Man needs a hand.”

Chapter Text

As it turns out, the Iron Man’s been shelved for repairs – not that Kara’s surprised, as she did see a clip of the madman under the armor flying into one of the big whale monsters – but Tony Stark’s presence can definitely be felt throughout Midtown. Stark Industries personnel, intermingled with darkly armored S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, are hard at work on clean-up duty. There seem to be no alien stragglers in the city – again, not much of a shock. The Avengers were far more thorough than her and Winn.

No one stops them as they approach the SI branded tents set up around Stark Tower, which seems to be at the heart of the relief operation. In retrospect, this should’ve been Kara’s first clue that they’re expected.

“I think I’ll wait here.” –Winn says, visibly nervous as he stares at the crystal monolith ahead. “I really don’t want to faint in front of Tony Stark.”

Kara nods – Winn’s a fan of the tech wiz, to say the least – and walks through the entrance of the main tent. The inside is sparsely lit, and filled to the brim with tech – both alien and human. She recognizes Stark as the sole occupant, sitting at some sort of futuristic workbench, fiddling with a disassembled plasma blaster while holograms dance around him. A pang of nostalgia hits her – this is the closest she’s come to human technology akin to Krypton’s since she arrived.

Tony Stark looks up, his expression blank for a second before it turns into a practiced smirk. “Well, shit. It’s the Supergirl.” –he says, setting the part he’s working on aside and grabbing an oily rag to more or less clean his hands.

Kara raises an eyebrow. “’Supergirl’? Isn’t that a little...I dunno, condescending?”

He tosses the rag aside. “It’s what everyone’s calling you. Blame the Bugle. JARVIS, if you’d please bring up Jameson’s little hit piece?”

The holograms instantly shift to depict an online version of the Daily Bugle, with a fairly iconic image of Kara, her chest snugly wrapped in laser-etched, bright red metal – she doubts anyone can tell that it’s the hastily bent hood of a cherry-red sports car she’d marked with the symbol of her House. She’s lifting a car overhead, ready to throw it at a bunch of aliens, just out of frame.

“’Illegal alien!’” –she reads, disappointed. She’d thought her tireless services as personal assistant to J. Jonah Jameson might’ve spared her his anti-hero sentiments. Clearly, that’s not the case.

“I wouldn’t bother reading it, if I were you. There’s a bunch of frankly asinine assumptions and conjectures about you in there, which I’ll spare you. Ol’ Triple J is desperately trying to cash in on the current paranoia, newspapers being the dying medium that they are.” –he says, rolling his eyes. “Stark Industries’ PR division is already firing back with some counter-propaganda, and my legions of lawyers are at your disposal. Nothing to be done about your identity, though. Sorry.”

Kara nods, crossing her arms. “That’s ok. I didn’t jump out of a skyscraper thinking I could just...go back to work on Monday, y’know? Thank you for the help, though.”

Stark hums. He points at the chest ‘armor’ from the picture. “Not the fanciest way to grab their attention, but...it worked, right?”

It had – the aliens had mostly ignored her at first, despite the threat she posed. Her cardigan was, sadly, not quite intimidating enough. “Yeah...how’d you know?”

“I don’t just paint the armor red and gold for shits and giggles, Ms. Danvers. Standing out in a crisis is a good thing, if you’re bulletproof.” –he explains. “And the ‘S’? What’s it stand for? Clearly not Supergirl, judging by your reaction.”

Kara scoffs. “It’s not a letter. It’s a symbol – the crest of the House of El. The emblem of my family.”

“...which just so happens to look like a stylized letter ‘S’, huh? Crazy coincidences.”

“I guess. So...you know what I am?” –she asks, hesitant.

He nods at the holograms, which shift again to depict various blurry videos and images of her taking on the alien invaders, most likely sourced from the people she saved. She flies, she punches, and, like Winn says, she shoots lasers from her eyes. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Seeing her wince, Stark sighs and banishes the data around him. “I don’t have the full picture, no. I know S.H.I.E.L.D. found you about eight years ago, placed you with the Danvers family. I know you work, or rather, used to work – as a PA for J. Jonah Jameson at the Bugle. I know your sister is one of Maria Hill’s little drones. And I know you can fly, and bench a few hundred tons without breaking a sweat.”

She laughs. “I can see why Alex doesn’t like you.”

“Most of S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t.”

“I think I’d like to judge for myself, Mr. Stark.” –she says, breathing deeply. It isn’t every day she spills her secrets like this. “I’m a Kryptonian. I was born in Argo City, capital of the planet Krypton, into the noble House of El. My parents, Zor and Alura, were brilliant scientists, and they sacrificed themselves so I would live, because when I was twelve, my homeworld exploded.”

Stark stays silent for some time – something he seems unaccustomed to, given how uncomfortable he looks. “How’d you get here?”

Kara grabs a stray piece of alien armor. “An escape pod. Experimental, FTL-capable. I’m not too sure of the specifics. The people of my House were...influential. Krypton valued men and women of science above almost any other class. Even then, they weren’t able to convince the High Council that our planet was doomed. So they devised a way to flee, but Krypton’s destruction was too sudden; they only managed to build a couple of smaller vessels.” –she explains. “The plan ended up being for me and my cousin, Kal, to survive here on Earth. He was just a baby...”

“So, what, there’s a ‘Superboy’ out in Kansas, or something?”

She sakes her head, closing her fingers around the silver metal. “Kal-El didn’t make it. Or, at least, S.H.I.E.L.D. never found his pod.”

Her host sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Kara offers him a weak smile. “Like you said, it’s been eight years. I’ve had time to come to terms with my situation. As far as I know, I’m the last Kryptonian alive.”

“Right.”

She sets the metal, now bent beyond recognition, down on the workbench. “You were expecting me, weren’t you?”

Stark seems to regain his pep with the change of subject. “I was. Not exactly waiting on you, though. Lots to do. But yeah, Cap thought we might see some new faces around here, trying to help; you were obviously one of them.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “’Cap’ as in Captain America? I thought I might’ve seen him running around during the battle.”

He nods. “We don’t exactly see eye to eye on everything. But we both agree that the Avengers weren’t nearly enough. It’s hard to admit, but the truth is, we got lucky - five colorful guys and la femme Nikita just weren’t a match for a few thousand Chitauri. Whom, I’m assuming, you know nothing about.”

She shakes her head. “No, sorry. I knew a few of the more important species out there. Tamaraneans, Thanagarians, y’know? The big names. ‘Chitauri’ doesn’t ring a bell.” –she says, then blinks. “Wait...are you saying what I think you’re saying? Are you...asking me to join the Avengers?”

The billionaire inventor shrugs. “Nothing so formal, but...you’re recently unemployed, and Thor’s gone back to norse heaven for a while, so we might be on the market for a Supergirl.”

“Geez. Barely starting and I’m already subbing in for the god, huh?” –she teases.

“In a very roundabout way, I think it’s a compliment? What do you think?”

Kara stares at the front page of the Bugle again – which just so happens to have popped back up during Stark’s little pitch. She’s aware of the sheer weight of the decision she’s making – dedicating her life to heroism doesn’t exactly seem like a career path she can back out of. But the truth is, she’s already made her choice – it happened in Jameson’s office, the moment she couldn’t stand to let Earth fall to a fate akin to Krypton’s.

“I think...I think I should get used to ‘Supergirl’.”

Chapter Text

Kara’s dreams are rarely pleasant.

Sometimes they take her back to Krypton, those last few terrible days – paranoid soldiers indiscriminately gunning down panicking citizens on the streets, thinking them possible rebels, orbital defense platforms shooting down the few civilian ships that managed to break atmosphere, and Krypton’s own fleet raining down fire on innocent towns, confusing them for rebel encampments, all while the planet slowly collapsed in on itself in preparation for the final detonation.

Other times, she dreams of the escape – of the frantic run towards the secret hangar as her father valiantly gave his own life, holding off dozens of desperate civilians who’d heard of the tiny spacecraft, just to give her daughter a chance at life. The fear in her mother’s eyes as they hastily programmed launch sequence counted down, Argo City falling apart around them. She bore witness to it all – and was scarred by most of it. The Chitauri and their victims – those she failed to save – are bound to join her nightmares. She counts herself lucky to wake up having dreamt only of her voyage through the nightmarish Phantom Zone.

Kara looks around, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, feeling – not for the first time – like she doesn’t belong. Winn and herself have been granted access to the upper levels of the damaged Stark Tower. Despite the cracks on the plaster and the dust that covers pretty much everything she can see, the place is still much too opulent for her tastes. Every room she’s visited looks like a presidential suite.

Winn’s snoring form brings her out of her reverie, making her smile softly. He surprised her, to say the least; Winn’s a mild mannered nerd, and yet he inspiredly took charge, helping her protect the survivors while she drew the Chitauri’s attention. He definitely deserves the rest. Probably a change of clothes, too, if she can find it.

She tentatively looks up at the ceiling. “Hey JARVIS, where could I find clothes in his size?”

The AI – yet another invention of Stark’s that throws her back to her childhood – swiftly replies. “I believe the room directly across yours is stocked with a male wardrobe, Ms. Danvers.”

“Thanks. Make sure to deduct it from my Avenger salary.” –she says, then tilts her head. “Wait. Do I get a salary?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has stipulated the equivalent of a United States Army Colonel’s wages for any present and future members of the Avengers Initiative. Additionally, Mr. Stark remarks that anything within Stark Tower – with the exception of the contents of his workshop, the various labs, and the Avengers’ own personal quarters – is free to make use of as you see fit.”

Kara raises an eyebrow, suddenly overwhelmed again. “...alright.”

After a much needed shower, Kara leaves for the common room, a couple floors above. Stark told her to head there after she’d gotten some rest. She doesn’t find the inventor waiting for her, but instead a very busy looking Pepper Potts. Kara knows of her, of course; Jameson, a proud, bona fide misogynist, practically suffered a heart attack when she’d taken over Stark Industries last year. Kara had to put up with his...venting on the matter for quite a while.

“No, the Avengers will not be under the command of the US Army, Air Force, or any branch of the American military for the foreseeable future. While we realize the current state of the Law may prove conflictive with the team’s mission statement and intended course of action, you can rest assured knowing the Avengers will not become a political tool or military asset. It didn’t work when Senator Stern was just after the Iron Man suit, and it’s sure as hell not going to work with the entire Avengers Initiative. You can absolutely quote me on that. Have a good day.” –she spits out, visibly annoyed.

Kara spots an overturned loveseat and restores it, having a seat. She tries to ignore the vaguely man-shaped crater on the black marble a couple feet away. Miss Potts hangs up the phone, rubbing her temples. “I hate Fox News.”

She snickers. “I don’t think anyone under the age of sixty listens to them, really.”

Potts smirks. “I wish that were the case. Still, we need to cover all our bases.” –she says, waling over and extending her hand. “Virginia Potts. Pleasure to meet you - please, call me Pepper.”

Kara completes the handshake. “Kara Zor-El. I’m a big fan.”

The redhead cocks her head. “I thought you went by Danvers.”

“I’m, uh, trying out the whole alien thing.”

“Right. Tony told me. Y’know, between you and Thor, I’m starting to think that, not only are we not alone in the universe, we’re not even unique. We all look so similar.”

Kara smiles. “Don’t worry, Miss Potts. There’s plenty of non-humanoid aliens out there.”

“Pepper, honey, I insist; I hear ‘Miss Potts’ enough in meetings.” –she says, walking off and motioning for her to follow. “Tony’s obviously been incredibly busy, but he’s somehow made the time to whip up a suit for you to use while you’re out there, kicking ass and saving the world.” –she says, gesturing towards a metallic case with the Stark Industries logo, set on top of a bar stool. “I think he left you a note?”

Kara picks up the case, which indeed has a post-it note attached to the side. Kara reads aloud. “’I haven’t yet invented a material that’s more durable than your own skin, but this should at least keep up with you better than a cardigan and a Chevy’s crumpled up hood.”

The case opens by itself, no doubt prompted by JARVIS. She makes a little strangled sound when she sees the contents: inside is a bodysuit, royal blue from the waist up, the waist and legs a dark shade of maroon. Smack-dab in the middle of the chest, a red and gold metallic crest in the shape of a shield bears the House of El’s sigil. A golden belt, as well as a bright red cape, skirt, and boots complete the ensemble.

“How did he know?” –she breathes out. “This...it’s perfect – almost authentic Kryptonian garb! A warrior could’ve worn this under their battle armor and no one would’ve batted an eye.”

“Well, the skirt’s all me.” –she says, winking. “I’m not supposed to know this, but since S.H.I.E.L.D.’s pretty much given us complete control over the Avengers Initiative, they turned over all their files on you, your pod...what you brought from home. I imagine Tony picked up some inspiration from that.” –Pepper reasons. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it!” –Kara says. She pokes the metal shield with some strength, and finds herself elated when it doesn’t budge at all. “How did you guys agree to have S.H.I.E.L.D. let you...us, off the chain?”

Pepper sits beside her. “Well, it was actually Director Fury’s idea. Clearly, he’s not too happy with the World Security Council – we figure it’s payback for trying to nuke New York. We’ve agreed to keep the Avengers separate from their chain of command. In exchange, he expects our support when they have a particularly difficult mission, exchanging intel, that kind of thing.”

“Well, I’m glad. I feel bad for saying this, since he, y’know, found me and gave me a family, but I don’t really like Fury.”

The redhead gives her a sardonic smile. “I don’t think anyone does, Kara. Not even himself. But he’s a necessary evil, I suppose.”

“Right.”

Pepper shrugs. “Anyway, feel free to settle in. If you’d like us to move your belongings to your quarters, just say the word. I’m headed back to California for the week, so it’ll just be you, JARVIS, and Mr. Schott until Tony gets it into his thick head that he needs an actual bed, food, and a real shower to function.”

Kara snorts. “That’s ok. I was about to head out, anyway. There’s still a lot to do down there.”

Pepper nods approvingly. “Make sure you wear your cape, then.”

Kara gazes, starry-eyed, at the familiar red cloth. “How could I not? This thing came with me all the way from Krypton.”

Chapter Text

It’s an odd feeling, floating down from Stark’s armor-removing landing pad to the barely reined in chaos below. Few people even look up, and those that do see her descend don’t seem too impressed. Kara tries not to take it too personally; she’s no armored billionaire, and they’ve only just seen the Norse god of thunder rain lightning from the skies. Next to them, a floating blonde with a cherry-red cape can’t be all that shocking.

Plus, this is New York. The people of the Big Apple are already starting to shrug off the actual alien invasion.

A niggling voice in the back of her mind, however, wonders if maybe they’re all caught up with the Bugle; despite Stark’s advice, she did go back and read Jameson’s front page spread on her. It was even worse than she imagined, all but devolving into slander, branding her a scheming, traitorous alien spy, who only revealed herself because the Chitauri invasion forced her to.

Kara gets that at least some people would be upset she’s an alien in disguise, but a spy? For who, the ghosts of Krypton’s High Council?

Her blooming insecurities aren’t helped at all by the approaching – disapproving – familiar figure of Alex Danvers. “What the hell are you wearing, Kara?”

Her sister walks up to her just as she touches down. Kara has never before seen Alex decked out in full S.H.I.E.L.D. operative gear, and she has to admit, her big sister looks incredibly intimidating in the blacks, blues, and greys of her bodysuit and body armor. Suddenly, her cape feels a little too big around her shoulders.

“Hey, Alex.” –she says, much too nervous for her tastes. “Stark gave this to me. This is my...uniform, I guess.”

Alex sighs, long suffering. Kara winces; her sister does not appreciate the playboy turned superhero. “Kara, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish here?”

Kara immediately closes herself off, crossing her arms. “You don’t have to say it like that. I’m just doing what I can to help. If that means putting this on and fighting bad guys, I’m game.”

“Well, this isn’t a goddamn game, Kara. I don’t know what Stark said to convince you, but this is...it’s not playing pretend, alright? It’s real bad guys, with real weapons – people who won’t think twice before trying to kill you. This is your life on the line. You should be laying low, not...presenting like this. Like a target.” –she says, rapping on the shield on her chest.

Kara frowns. “You want me to hide? Alex, I made a choice. Good or bad, I walked out on my job, on my anonymity, to help people. What good is hiding going to do me now?”

“You jumped out on your job.” –she remarks, sarcastic. “Yeah, I saw the footage. What were you thinking? Do you even know what you were fighting?”

“Stark called them Chitauri.”

“You know what everyone else is calling them? Aliens, Kara. Guess who’s getting lumped in with them?”

“And I should, what, deny I’m an alien? News flash, sis, I am not a human. I am not from Earth.”

Alex winces, backing off a bit. She paces, hands on her hips, searching for the right words. “Kara...you’ve hid the entire time you’ve been here. And it’s worked. Hardly anyone’s ever suspected. And yeah, of course I know you’re not from Earth, but you’re my sister. You may not have been born on this planet, but you grew up here, with us – with me.” –she says, softly. “Everything you’ve ever told me you wanted was to fit in. This?” –she gestures at her whole ensemble, and above them, at the Tower. “It’s the exact opposite. Can you blame me for being worried out of my mind?”

Kara hesitates. “I don’t blame you, Alex. It’s just...you’re right, ok? I didn’t think things through when I joined the fray. But...I just can’t sit it out anymore. I can’t Alex, not again.” –she says, haunted. “If I have to be the last Kryptonian, can’t I at least make it count? Can’t I use these powers for good?”

Alex groans. “I...god, why do you have to be so...noble?” –she grumpily says. “What if you get hurt, huh?”

Kara rolls her eyes. “I just spent a couple days fighting off an alien invasion. They couldn’t even touch me, Alex.” –she says, just a little bit too giddy.

“See, that’s the thing; people will wonder why you didn’t even lose a strand of hair, while Stark had to scrap his stupid armor. What if even one of those people starts to ponder what it actually takes to hurt you? What if they try? Kara, what if they succeed?”

Alex rarely, if ever, shows such vulnerability in her voice. Kara can’t help but falter. “I’ll...figure it out, alright? I just...I need to do this, Alex. It feels right.”

The brunette offers a tired, exasperated smile. “Yeah...I get it. For what it’s worth, I am proud of you. Terrified for you, but proud. I just wish you’d, I don’t know, volunteer at a soup kitchen, instead of...this.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “That’s actually not a bad idea. I’ll keep an eye out for one while I’m out there.”

“Of course you will.” –she says, resignation winning over. “You’re sure about this, then? Wearing this, being a superhero?”

“Well, you know I don’t need it. The protection, I mean. And it’s not Halloween, I’m not wearing it for fun.” –she jokes. “But...I want to be someone people know to trust – but also someone that makes the bad guys think twice. I want people to see this emblem and know who I am. I know you don’t like Stark, but I think he got that about me. I don’t need power armor, or a fancy shield. All I need is to be me.”

“The ‘Supergirl’, you mean.”

“Supergirl.” –she nods. “Or the Girl of Steel, or whatever they’re calling me now. The last Kryptonian – but your clumsy little sister, too. A cute skirt and the colors of the House of El. That’s my whole identity, I guess. Like you said, all I’ve wanted was to fit in – and I think I’ve finally found my place in this world.”

Her sister looks at her. Really looks, beyond the fancy new suit, beyond the nervousness and insecurities, but also beyond the arrogance of someone who knows herself invulnerable.

Kara just wants to save a world. She couldn’t do it for Krypton, so she’s damn well going to try with Earth.

“You’re sure.” –she says, finally. Her sister reaches out and embraces her. Kara nearly drops her jaw – Alex is not into public displays of affection. As it is, the hug lasts only a second or two. “Be safe, Kara. I know you’re bulletproof, but the world’s getting pretty fucking weird. It just might catch up to you, one of these days.”

Kara smiles. “I will. Thank you, Alex.”

She snorts. “Don’t thank me yet. You wanna help, right? You’ll want to check in with my boss. See if you’re still thankful after you meet Maria Hill.”

Chapter Text

Kara’s been chewed out plenty of times before. She was a handful as a child, both before and after Krypton’s death; always rough-housing around the El family estate, making herself a nuisance towards her extended family, and then on Earth, trying her best not to let her nascent abilities overwhelm her. Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers were pretty patient with her, but there’s only so many times your kitchen – or living room, or bathroom – can be demolished before you lose your temper. Her control got better, eventually, but spikes of clumsiness have plagued her ever since, further angering everyone around her. There was that date whose clavicle she unintentionally pulverized at prom – in her defense, the guy got a bit handsy – and the whole catalog of offenses she racked up, working for Jameson. If her eardrums weren’t as indestructible as the rest of her body, they would’ve ruptured for sure.

Most of the time, she can explain things away as mere accidents. A rush of adrenaline, a total lack of balance, things like that. She’s never been reprimanded for intentionally using her superpowers before, however.

“Tell me what you see, Kara.” –Maria Hill asks her, referring to the screen hung above the map of New York she’d been studying in the tent Kara was directed to. Hill’s tone is neutral, but her eyes betray a certain...disdain.

The image is remarkably clear, considering its subject matter; Kara, flying through a window, punching a whale monster straight into the ground.

“I’m flying through a building, punching a giant space fish in the face.”

“That space fish then proceeded to land on the streets, crushing dozens of cars and ruining half a block. You got lucky that time; people saw that thing coming and ran for the hills. The only damage you caused was to the city itself.”

Kara swallows. Hill puts on another clip. This time, she’s ‘tanking’ – that’s what Winn called it, anyway – a torrent of plasma bolts, drawing the foot soldiers’ attention while Winn lined up a shot. “How about here?”

“Well, he’s off-camera, but my friend Winn was moving to a better angle to shoot at the Chitauri. I was covering him.”

Hill crosses her arms. She reminds her a bit of aunt Astra, the House of El’s black sheep – an unbeatable warrior in a family of science, practically unheard of. The horror stories Kara’s heard from Alex about Hill...Kara can see why her sister holds a healthy bit of fear and respect for S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Deputy Director. “Oh? Does Mr. Schott have some kind of marksman training we’re somehow unaware of?”

Kara resists the urge to snort, wincing instead. “Only in videogames. Still, he was a pretty good shot.”

“What he is, is a civilian, Kara. He has no enhancements or training to speak of. While his behavior under pressure is...admirable, he’s an outlier. What if he’d gotten ambushed while you were drawing their fire? Could you have gotten to him in time?”

“Maybe?”

“You don’t know?”

“...no. I mean, I do know. I probably wouldn’t have reached him in time to save him in that scenario. But we took a risk, and it paid off.”

“That time.”

Kara’s stomach drops. She knows what’s coming. Hill plays the next clip, but Kara closes her eyes. She doesn’t need to see it again – not when she knows she’ll be replaying the scene in her dreams for the rest of her life. The screams, however, she can’t drown out. “What about this one, Kara?” –Hill asks her, her tone as tough as Kara’s own skin.

“I...I couldn’t...”

“Why?”

Kara grabs her elbows, the beginning of tears starting to form. “I got distracted.”

“How so?”

The first tears begin to fall. “I was doing so well...finally able to let loose, take everything out on those monsters...I felt like myself for the first time since I landed here. I...got carried away.”

Hill turns the display off, leaning back against the center table. “I’ll tell you this, Kara. Nobody gets to have a perfect record – not us, not the police, and certainly not any of the Avengers. Sometimes, we can’t save everybody. But, we give it our best shot, even if it means sacrificing ourselves.” –she says. “You’re lucky; you don’t need to worry about that part. As far as anyone can tell, you’re indestructible. But you lack focus – on the enemy, on the environment you’re fighting in, and most of all, on the people you have to protect. Your needs have to come last. Your wants aren’t even part of the picture. Being a hero can’t ever be about the power fantasy.”

Kara nods, swallowing the knot in her throat. “I know. I screwed up.”

The agent’s gaze softens, ever so slightly. “We all do, eventually. I’m not your boss, and Director Fury has, for some reason, decided to let the Avengers manage themselves, but I’m going to strongly recommend a training regime, both physical and in squad tactics. I know you have the best of intentions, but that’s just not going to cut it out there in the field.”

Kara nods. “I understand.”

“You will, in any case. If you’re still set on helping today, go find Captain Rogers. He’s helping clear the rubble on 6^th street.”

Hill walks out of the tent leaving Kara with her thoughts. She didn’t expect Alex’s boss to know about her horrific mistake – not even Winn had realized, chalking Kara’s anguished cries up to her generally kind nature – but S.H.I.E.L.D., it seems, lives up to its reputation, still tracking her every move – even during the end of the world. It’s been like this ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. found her in a corn field in Kansas, and she doubts that’ll ever change. She must have the largest file on their Superhuman Enhancement Index, by far – the testing was extensive.

Eventually, she opts not to wallow any longer. ‘Be a woman of action, Kara,’, Astra seems to speak in her mind, ‘words and thoughts are for those unwilling to hold their fates in their hands.’

Of course, she was branded a rebel and terrorist soon after, but that’s neither here nor there.

Kara takes to the streets, by air and foot. Ever since her arrival, Kara has been continually impressed with humanity’s ability to survive. No matter how badly they get knocked down, the humans always seem to rise, right back up. Kryptonian culture was never nearly so flexible or spirited – too ancient and self-assured, arrogant in their power. They’d ruled entire solar systems for eons by the time of Krypton’s doom, and thus expected little to threaten them, growing complacent. The explosion was the final nail in their species’ coffin, of course, but this attitude is what made the Empire fall apart, beforehand. Kara wasn’t exactly taught the truth of Kryptonian society’s downfall in school, but aunt Astra and uncle Non made sure she knew – their homeworld left their colonies to die, at the mercy of pirates and conquerors, stamping out any sort of insurgency on Krypton by brutal means, even while their world crumbled around them.

In any case, flying over the ruined streets of New York is as sobering as it is inspiring. The Chitauri were merciless in their destruction – she counts only two undamaged buildings on her way to Captain Rogers. It takes a while, too, as she seems unable to advance half a block without spotting someone that could use her help.

“Hey, you’re that alien lady, right?” –one such man, an older fellow wearing a bright yellow construction helmet asks her as she lands near him and his crew, crowded around a huge steel beam.

She nods, a bit fearful. “Y-yeah. Call me Supergirl.”

“Yeah, yeah, I read Jameson’s shit piece. Say, you’re pretty strong, yeah? Think you can lift this thing? Crane’s stuck God-knows where and we hafta weld this in.”

Relief floods her. “Oh. Sure!” –she says, grabbing the metallic support. She can barely feel the weight, but the balance is the tricky part – it wobbles a bit in her arms as she floats upwards.

Kara can’t help smiling at the astonished looks on the workers waiting for her, three stories above.

“Hey guys.” –she says.

“Holy shit, lady.”

“Yeah, what the hell?”

“ That’s fucking cool, man.”

She blushes. “Come on, it’s not that big a deal. I mean, you’ve seen the other guys. The Avengers.”

One of the guys shrugs as he helps steer her charge into place. “I mean, sure, Stark and his pals, they’re flashy. Ain’t seen any of ‘em around here, though.”

Kara frowns. “Really? I was told to look for Captain America around here.”

“I think Lenny saw him this morning? Probably hasn’t come out of his tent since, though, just like yesterday.”

“Oh.” –Kara says, disappointed. “I thought he’d be on the streets.”

“I heard from one of the agents that he’s been looking into other superheroes, the ones that didn’t make the headlines. Maybe he’s onto one?”

Kara purses her lips. “I hope so. Those aliens might never come back, but if they do, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“No argument here. Thanks, Supergirl.”

She nods, flying away. By the time she makes it to 6^th street, she’s carried a dozen cars out of the way, caught and severed a wild power line, and captured an escaped pet tarantula. If the way its owner nonchalantly puts it on his head like a hat after thanking her freaks her out, she doesn’t say a thing.

Kara half-heartedly searches for the Captain on the streets, only to eventually find yet another Stark Industries-branded tent She lands and walks in, instantly spotting Rogers, who seems frustrated as he examines a fancy computer tablet.

Rogers looks at her and instantly straightens. “Miss Danvers.”

“Hello, Captain Rogers.”

“Welcome. I was told you’d visit.”

She offers him a hand, which he takes. The man has an iron grip, but she still feels the need to hold everything back so as not to break his hand. Rogers clearly notices, even wincing a little.

“Sorry.” –Kara says, swiftly releasing the Captain’s hand.

“Don’t be.” –he replies. “I just...felt a whole lot younger just now.”

Kara blinks. “How so?”

“I wasn’t always like this.” –he says, conflicted, gesturing at his own body – a well-sculpted physique that would have been the envy of any Kryptonian warrior. “Used to be, the wind would blow and I’d need to hold on for dear life.”

“Oh. I...didn’t know.”

“That’s alright. It’s kind of...refreshing, actually. Everyone seems to have some kind of encyclopedic knowledge about me, these days.”

Kara chuckles, a bit more at ease. “That happens when you’re, like, people’s favorite part about american history. I kinda missed that part of human education, but my sister had a lunchbox with that on it. Not to mention all the comics, and cartoons.” –she says, pointing at the perfectly circular shield at his feet.

“Yeah, I’ve seen a couple. Too wacky, even for me.” –he says. “Your sister...she’s a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, right? Under Deputy Director Hill?”

“Yeah. Alex Danvers.”

“Right. Her family adopted you, then?”

Kara snorts. “More like Fury dropped me off on their front porch, one night...but yeah.” –she says, warmly. “The Danvers took me in, raised me as their daughter. Didn’t kick me out even though I’d accidentally break half the furniture in the house. Can’t thank them enough.”

Rogers hums. “I get that. I practically grew up with my best friend.” –he says, forlorn. Then, he clears his throat. “Anyway. I hear you’re an Avenger, now.”

She smiles. “I am, yeah. Never thought you guys would offer, but things have been pretty crazy lately. I’m just trying to roll with the punches, y’know?”

He nods. “I suggest getting as busy as you can. It’s hardly a cure, but it’ll make things better until this whole mess settles.”

“Oh, I have. I think I’ve carried every heavy thing on New York, this week.”

He sighs. “So I’ve heard. I wish I could be out there with you.”

“Why aren’t you?” –she blurts out, before she can think any better.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.” –he says, more than a bit miffed at the shadowy organization. “They’ve been trying their best to...’limit my exposure’ to the modern world, ever since they thawed me out. If it isn’t a psych eval, it’s a medical check-up, or testing my abilities, or another psych eval. Any number of obstacles, the latest being this...recruitment drive.”

He passes the computer tablet to her. There’s a ton of files on display, most of which feel familiar to her – they’re just like her Index entries. “So it’s not just me. You guys are looking for more Avengers.”

“I’m sure Stark mentioned it, but the truth is we were very nearly defeated. If the World Security Council hadn’t sent that missile, the Chitauri would’ve overrun us in a matter of minutes, not to mention all the enemy units we were unable to contain, forcing people such as yourself to intervene, at great personal risk. As much as I hate to admit it, Director Fury has a point; the Avengers Initiative had a decent start, but it has to expand, sooner rather than later. And that means sitting here, trying to find some guy who swings around like a yo-yo and leaves tied-up criminals like presents on police precincts.”

Kara gasps. “Are you talking about the Spider-Man!? Half of New York thinks he’s an urban legend, and the other half doesn’t believe he exists.”

“He’s real, alright.”

“He’s also supposed to be from Queens. What’s he doing all the way out here?”

Rogers purses his lips. “I’m hoping the invasion drew him out, just like you.” –he says. “We need that kind of drive on the team. People willing to protect those who can’t defend themselves.”

Kara feels her chest warm a little. “Can I help you look?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to overwhelm him. He’s skittish – already evaded me twice. And besides, you’ve been doing solid work on the streets. Kind of putting the rest of us to shame, honestly.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’ve lived among these people for the better part of a decade. You’re closer to them than someone from 1945 could ever hope to be. And as much as I’m sick of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s coddling, they know me well enough; I can’t rest without knowing I’m doing everything I can to make sure the next disaster doesn’t hit as hard as this one.”

Kara looks at the Captain. He seems exactly like the character Alex hero-worshipped as a kid, down to the, frankly, garish star-spangled outfit – a kind, principled man with firmly rooted values and an indomitable drive to do good – but, at the same time, the man that stands before her seems utterly lost in the 21^st century. Even disregarding the fact that S.H.I.E.L.D. is treating him like he’s made of glass, he doesn’t strike her as the kind of person who’d let a measly international spy agency stop him from helping out. Rogers is a soldier, and beyond that, a leader, someone who’s commanded troops and won battles. And it’s not like Kara’s hoping the man will adopt a more authoritarian attitude – she knows to be wary of that kind of military mindset, because when soldiers lose sight of the people they’re meant to protect in service of ‘the greater good’, callousness and cruelty often follow – but letting Fury and his cronies dictate his every move feels...wrong. Out of character, even.

She tries to entice him, offer him an out. “You know, Captain...there’s really no need for me to hog the public eye. The Spider-Man is supposed to be nocturnal; I don’t think you’re gonna find him until nighttime. You could take a break and come help me out.”

Rogers pauses, then frowns. “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s file on him doesn’t mention that.”

Kara winces, because she knows exactly what’s going on. “Damn. I thought it was a little odd that you hadn’t caught up to him yet. I bet his file doesn’t even mention the kid’s name.”

“It...doesn’t. How did you know?” –Rogers asks, confused.

“I’m intimately familiar with how the Index works, Captain. Fury prefers to keep the files on Enhanced minors purposefully bears. Aliases and power sets only.”

Rogers narrows his eyes. “You’re saying he’s underaged.”

“He has to be. S.H.I.E.L.D. is an intelligence organization first and foremost; there’s no such thing as a truly secret identity in this day and age – not when they’re watching. Spider-Man is no exception.”

“That makes finding him more of a priority, then.”

Kara frowns. “You’re not seriously considering a teenager for a spot on the team, are you?”

“I am. More than I was before, actually.”

“He’s a kid!”

“With a lot of power on his hands.” –he agrees. “No one that young should have to shoulder that much responsibility, least of all alone. He needs training and support. I know I couldn’t have done half the things I did back in the day without my team.”

Kara crosses her arms. “He’s not a soldier, Captain.”

Rogers looks contrite, but his resolve does not waver. “I know. Stark said the same thing, before the battle. But you fought those things, Kara. We can’t afford to treat these kinds of threats any other way. We may not be soldiers, not in the traditional sense, but people are going to count on the Avengers to defend the planet from now on. And I hate the term, but we’re heroes now. It’s on us, now, to live up to those ideals – to lead, and ensure people like this Spider-Man keep using their gifts and talents to protect people.”

The Kryptonian scowls, uncomfortable. Rogers’s motivations make sense, but the idea of recruiting a teenager does not sit well with her. The main reason she managed to turn out somewhat okay, despite the heap of trauma she carries around, is that she had the chance to grow up, to have a somewhat normal life on Earth – to play with her sister, go to school, to have a terrible prom date.

“Kara, I understand your discomfort. I know it’s risky. This life is dangerous, even if you’re invulnerable – the people you love often aren’t. I know that, believe me. But I’d rather have him closer, where we can help him.” –he says, then shakes his head. “People said he was wearing jeans during the battle.”

Kara doesn’t feel quite as reassured as she’d like, but she nods. “Right...well, offer’s still standing. You’re welcome to help out.”

Rogers gives her an apologetic smile. “I’ll take a rain check. There’s a lot do here, even if the Spider-Man doesn’t appear. Thank you, Kara.”

She nods, exiting the tent. Kara wills her feet off the ground, troubled.

Chapter Text

Kara floats, somewhat listlessly, into Stark’s workshop, answering JARVIS’s summons. “Rao’s not even up yet, Stark. Do you ever sleep?” –she asks, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, and adjusting her glasses.

“Sleep is for those who lack caffeine.” –Stark says, not even bothering to look up from whatever he’s tinkering with. “What’s a ‘Rao’?”

“Rao’s not a what, he’s a who. He’s like...God? Well, was, to us. Rao’s the Kryptonian god of the sun.”

Stark raises an eyebrow. “Interesting, that your futuristic alien society would still have any interest in theology...does it have anything to do with the whole ‘Kryptonians as solar batteries’ thing?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember all that well. My parents weren’t very fond of scripture.” –she says, forlorn. “I only use it in conversation so I don’t, y’know...forget.”

The inventor hums. “You do know your pod is in a S.H.I.E.L.D. cold storage facility, right?”

Kara tilts her head. “Is it? Fury said they needed to study it. He promised to give it back someday, but I have a feeling that is not happening anytime soon.”

“Well, you’re an Avenger now.” –he reminds her. “Pretty sure that means you get all kinds of clearance you didn’t have before.” –he suggests.

Kara purses her lips. “Maybe. I’ll...think about it.”

Stark nods. “Square deal. Remind me to send you the coordinates for the base later. I wouldn’t mind exchanging them for a little favor, though.”

Kara narrows her eyes. “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, the usual – new inventions, alien invasions, rapidly developing PTSD...talking about this, though.” –he says, pointing at the object he’s fiddling with – a small, hollow triangle made of an almost lavender colored metal she’s never seen before. “I need you to zap it.”

Seeing Kara’s confused expression, he rolls his eyes. “...and by ‘zap it’, I mean ‘use the particle beams you can shoot out of your eyes’.”

“Oh. Um, sure, I can do that. I hope you don’t want me to hold it for too long, though.” –she says, taking off her glasses.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it’s very draining, for one. Like you said, my body works like a battery. When I’m out in sunlight, it’s no problem – I ‘recharge’ as fast as I use up my solar energy, so I can use my powers as much as I want. Indoors or at night, though...that’s a little trickier.”

“JARVIS, make sure to log this for the Avengers’ playbook.” –he says, absent-minded. “And the other issue?”

“Hurts my eyes. If the beam is low power – y’know, if I’m reheating my coffee or something small like that – I can’t even feel it. A higher intensity though, or holding the beam for too long? That hurts.” -she holds up the glasses. “I legitimately need to wear these because of the first time I used my heat vision.”

Stark smirks. “’Heat vision’, huh?”

She blushes. “Quiet, you. Alex and I came up with that name as kids.” –she admits. “As soon as I started to take in Earth’s sunlight, my powers started manifesting – and they came in strong. By the end of the first day, I could hear the neighbor’s breathing. In a week, my skin was nearly impenetrable, and I could lift the family van. Another week, and I became an indestructible pinball – I couldn’t stop floating around. And then came the dang heat vision – took about six months to fully develop, and it was miserable. It was like a permanent cold; my eyes hurt like I had a fever, and my face felt stuffy all the time. Eventually, I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I, uh...well, I may have blown up our kitchen.”

Stark’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re kidding.”

Kara shakes her head. “I wish. S.H.I.E.L.D. covered the repairs, but I’ll never forget Alex and her parents’ faces. They were terrified of me, if only for a minute. Plus, my invulnerability was still a little...superficial, so the blast kinda destroyed my corneas. Most of the injury healed up, but the damage was so extensive that my eyesight became permanently damaged. I’m a little near-sighted.”

Stark doesn’t say a thing, so Kara narrows her eyes, focusing on the triangular object. She thinks of anger and frustration, of aggression and violence. The skin around her eyes glows, the air between them and her target superheats, and the sky blue orbs disappear under a torrent of raw power, pencil-thin beams which immediately make contact with the triangle. She grunts as the familiar burn manifests, but holds the beam, until Stark snaps out of the trance he’s in. “Shit, stop, that’s enough.”

Kara closes her eyes, and the beams stop. Her vision blurs, and blinding lights dance across her vision for a moment – she knows to expect them, so she attempts to blink them away. Once recovered, she dons her glasses again, only to find a gob-smacked Tony Stark staring at her. “Uh...what is it?”

Stark blinks. “JARVIS, how hot was that?”

“Miss Danvers’ ‘heat vision’ measured in excess of twenty-seven million degrees Kelvin, well above the necessary temperature required to synthesize the arc reactor’s proprietary vibranium isotope core.” –the AI reports.

“Not what I meant, but thanks anyway.” –he says, ignoring Kara’s indignant blush. “That is seriously fantastic. You could slice through my toughest armor plating, easy. JARVIS, remind me to figure out better ablative materials for the next one. Wouldn’t want a stray beam cutting Iron Man in half.”

“Noted, Sir.”

Kara shakes her head. “Is this all you wanted me for?”

Stark shakes his head. “Actually, no. I designed a miniaturized particle accelerator just for making more Iso-8 last year – not that my arc reactor has run out of juice since I first synthesized that vibranium core. It doesn’t hold a candle to the real stuff – actual Wakandan vibranium, which is what Cap’s shield is mostly made of – but I can make bucket loads of the stuff.” –he says, nodding at the now glowing triangle. “Really, I just wanted to record and measure this awesome power of yours. Now that you’re here, though, and since the clean-up from the battle is mostly done, I thought you could deliver a package for me.”

Stark walks towards one of the workshop’s walls, which opens up like a closet. Inside are various drawers; he pulls one out, grabbing a suitcase, very similar to the one her own suit came in.

“Is that another suit?” –she asks, curious.

“Yep. Bridging the gap between yours and mine, kind of.” –he says, popping it open.

Kara gasps once she sees its contents. “You made him a suit? Already?”

“I made everyone a suit. But yeah...I owe the kid.” –he says, suddenly downcast. “I’ve been keeping an eye on him, ever since the Expo debacle.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “The Hammer drone rampage?”

He nods, the weight of guilt plainly visible on his expression. “His parents were exhibitors for OsCorp. They...didn’t make it. He’s lost his parents, his uncle, and gained superpowers, just in the last year. No one should have to go through that – least of all a fifteen-year old. Given he’s got the same...hero complex you and I’ve got going on, this is the least I can do for him.” –he says, nodding at the case. “I only managed to throw in a fraction of the cool shit I wanted to into it. Still, it should be more than enough to keep him safe for a while.”

The suit inside is red and blue, accented in black in the style of a spider’s web. Comically large, stylized white eyes stare back at her, almost mirroring her own reaction. “How the heck am I supposed to find the Spider-Man?”

“I don’t know, run a flying search pattern or something. Just don’t do whatever Rogers is doing, and you should find him in no time.”

“Why’s that?”

Stark offers her a smarmy grin. “I’ve been trying my best to throw Cap off the trail.”

Kara’s eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“The kid hasn’t exactly been the epitome of carefulness, y’know? Rogers would catch him in a heartbeat if I weren’t playing buffer between them. But that would mean putting him within S.H.I.E.L.D.’s clutches.” –he says, scowling. “I don’t trust Fury to keep the kid’s best interests in mind – with him, there’s always an angle, and the fact that Spider-Man is his first pick for recruitment speaks volumes. And don’t get me wrong, I think Rogers does care, but I can’t agree to these recruitment practices. Even he went to war at twenty-three.”

“And you’d rather do this behind his back?” –she asks, more than a little worried.

“I’d rather avoid the argument, at least for a little while longer. Rogers’ heart is in the right place – the kid needs training and support, more than perhaps any of us. The fact remains, though, that he is a kid. Underaged. Having him on as an Avenger, even if he weren’t on active duty, just wouldn’t sit right with me. Not to mention, it probably wouldn’t fly with the public. You’re twenty, and you’re kinda pushing it.”

The Kryptonian purses her lips – it’s concerning, somewhat, to see the two Avengers she’d consider the closest equivalents to team leaders have such fundamental disagreements already. And she’s torn, too – the Captain’s approach seems much too ‘hands-on’, while Stark’s idea is too...removed for her tastes. Surely, the Spider-Man needs a bit more support than just a fancy new suit.

...maybe she can do something about that.

“I’ll give him the suit.” –she says, taking and closing the case. “But you’ve got to at least give me a hint. Where do I start looking for the guy?”

“Where the urban legend started, of course.” –he winks. “Queens.”

Chapter Text

It’s not often that Kara gets to use the six months of Investigative Journalism she got out of college before she quit.

Kara spends half a day looking at local messaging boards, looking for any information that might help her locate Spider-Man. They’re not very helpful, unfortunately; she’s hardly been the first one to have the idea of pinpointing the vigilante’s location based on eyewitness accounts. This approach has only suggested that the guy mainly – though not exclusively – operates at night, on the East side, with a particular focus on Midtown and Queens. The only photos of him are blurry, there are no recordings of his voice, and his costume – simple as it is, consisting of a simple hoodie, track pants, and a balaclava with some kind of embedded lenses for eyes – covers every inch of skin. Kara knows, thanks to Tony, but most people aren’t even sure the Spider-Man is a man at all.

Stark’s right, though. Whoever the kid beneath the bug-eyed mask is, he definitely comes from Queens. Flying around the place reveals something of a unique pattern; she sees none of the telltale webbing she might’ve expected – by all accounts, they seem to dissolve within the span of a few hours – but instead spots a ton of minor instances of cosmetic damage in strange, hard to reach places. Little patches of shingles torn from roofs, bricks pulled askew from brownstones’ walls, a shattered window seven stories from the ground, that kind of thing. Kara briefly considers the possibility of these being caused by the Chitauri, but the battle was, for the most part, contained to the heart of New York.

Considering Spider-Man’s preferred method of travel, Kara’s willing to bet the damage has, instead, been caused by the weight of a swinging pendulum, roughly the size of a fifteen-year old teenager.

Her search eventually leads her back to Midtown, as the sun sets on the city. If the vigilante sticks to his habits, he should show around soon, so she picks a good vantage point – the Daily Bugle’s broadcast antenna, for irony’s sake – and sits, observing.

It’s hard to believe how far along into recovery the city is, already. All the alien bodies, weapons, and war machines have been cleared away, taken by S.H.I.E.L.D. and the American military for research and disposal, and the rubble is being steadily shipped out of New York. Full reconstruction will take years, of course, but thanks to Stark Industries, S.H.I.E.L.D., and the recently developed Department of Damage Control, the Big Apple is pretty much back to its natural rhythm. She briefly pictures what Argo City might’ve looked like, in this situation – if the civil war had ended, if Krypton had not been obliterated. Kara can’t help but wonder if her kind, so complacent in their power and traditions, would’ve been as quick to start picking up the pieces.

Just as the sun vanishes from view, the roof maintenance access below her opens; not too odd a thing, considering it’s most of the employees’ preferred smoking area, but worth a look nonetheless – after all, everyone in this building was her coworker, before she chose this new career path. She peers around the dish she chose to sit on to get a closer look, and is surprised to find a short, curly-haired teenager, bent down over a small backpack, so full it seems to burst at the seams. Kara raises an eyebrow; the guy looks...familiar.

Her brain makes the connection just as the young man pulls out a highly customized red balaclava, and slips it on.

Kara averts her eyes as the kid starts stripping down in a hurry. No wonder he looks familiar; she’s seen him come and go every other day, all shy smiles and puppy-dog eyes as her former boss cruelly evaluated his work. Peter Parker is a photographer, barely fifteen, struggling to make ends meet – somehow balancing a scholarship at Midtown Science and freelance photography, which he sells to Jameson for an outrageously low sum.

Peter Parker is also – and Kara can’t fathom how – the wall-crawling, web-slinging, masked vigilante known as the Spider-Man.

Just as she’s about to pop out of cover and come clean to the guy, she hears a distinctive thwip sound. Kara floats upwards, but Parker’s already jumped, swinging on to the nearest skyscraper.

Excited, the Kryptonian pulls out her phone to let Stark know she’s found him, only for a text to pop in from the man himself. ‘Told you he wasn’t very careful.’, it reads. She snorts, and shoots back a text chastising him for stalking them both.

Kara takes to the skies, tracking Spider-Man. The young vigilante is incredibly fast, making use of every little bit of momentum and some very clever twists, turns, and slingshot tricks to reach some vertigo inducing speeds, even for her. Parker’s rushing towards the OsCorp building like it’s on fire – the skyscraper is not, in fact, burning, but the ominous obsidian monolith still fills Kara with apprehension; Norman Osborn’s company is infamous for pushing bio-science just a bit farther than is strictly acceptable, all in the name of scientific advancement.

Peter circles the building once, twice, and a final third time, going higher and higher until he reaches the roof. Kara silently approaches, curious about his reason for being there. Parker makes his intent quite obvious when he forces open the lock to the maintenance access with his bare hands.

“I’m pretty sure that was locked for a reason.” –she blurts out, landing behind him.

Parker turns, fast as a whip, and slings a web at her, which she barely manages to block with Stark’s suitcase. The young man pulls, stronger than she could’ve imagined, and manages to yank it out of her hands. “You’re really getting on my case, lady.” –he says, half annoyed, half amused. Then, his strange, comically large mechanical lenses widen – Kara assumes, in recognition. It’s not like she wears a mask.

“How’s it going, Spider-Man?” –she asks, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “Since I’m assuming this isn’t a photo op for Jameson, you mind telling me why you’re breaking into a billion dollar company?”

He clears his throat. “Uh, no clue what you’re talking about.” –he declares, letting the crushed padlock fall from his fingerless gloved hand. “Thanks for the neat gift, though.”

Kara shrugs. “I’m just the delivery girl. Stark’s the one you should be thanking for the upgrade.”

Parker blinks. “Wait...are you saying this is actually for me?” –he asks, giving the fancy case a second look. “’Upgrade’...is this a suit!?”

“There should be a note inside, somewhere.” –she nods. “He says it’s missing a lot of bells and whistles, but he definitely made you a suit, yeah.”

He gasps, but stops himself from opening the case, dubious. “What’s the catch?”

Kara purses her lips. “I’ll let you know when I find out for myself. My suit’s a Stark design, too.”

“You do look pretty spiffy, Miss Danvers.” –he finally acknowledges.

Kara snorts. “Thanks. You still haven’t answered my question.”

Parker sets the case down. “Well...I’m supposed to meet someone from the inside. There’s...a conspiracy going on, and we’re trying to get to the bottom of it.”

“Peter?” –a small voice says from behind the now unlocked door. Kara raises an eyebrow, while Parker seems to shrink, turning around to open the way.

Behind the door is a young teen that looks to be the same age as Peter, wrapped up in a spotless lab coat. She’s slightly taller than him, and a blonde, her hair pulled back into a very sensible if tiny ponytail. Clear blue eyes regard her in awe from behind her bangs.

Parker sighs, resigned. “Kara Danvers, meet Gwen Stacy. Gwen, this is...used to be Jameson’s personal assistant, Kara.”

“You...you’re Supergirl.” –Gwen gasps.

Kara smiles. “That would be me, yeah. Nice to meet you two – though I’ve gotta say, I wish it were under less...clandestine circumstances.” –she says, amused.

Gwen pales even further. “This isn’t...we weren’t trying to...”

“Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble – at least, not with me. I do want to hear more about this conspiracy, though.”

The two teens look at each other. “Can we trust you not to tell anyone else about this?” –Peter asks.

Gwen winces as Kara raises an eyebrow. “It’s just...this is big. It’s not just OsCorp, either – it’s just that we know more about OsCorp because I’m an intern here. And it has a lot to do with him.” –she says, pointing at Peter. “The thing that gave him his abilities came from one of OsCorp’s labs. If it were to get out...”

“I don’t wanna brag, but I’m very strong.” –Peter says, sheepish. “If a fifteen year-old can do what I do, I don’t even want to imagine what a private army with powers like mine might look like – and that’s exactly the kind of thing OsCorp is developing.”

Kara scowls. “Are you sure?”

Gwen nods. “I know what I saw. This isn’t a military contract or anything like that. Whoever commissioned this project isn’t part of the government.”

The Kryptonian ponders the situation for a moment. “I can’t keep this from Stark.” –she warns them. “Then again, he already knows pretty much everything there is to know about you, Spider-Man.”

The vigilante sighs, chagrined. “...I guess it’s fine if the Avengers know, right?”

She winks. “You can trust us, Peter. Fill me in.”

Chapter Text

Six months before the Chitauri dropped from the sky, Peter Parker was enjoying an end-of-year school visit to OsCorp. He’d always been interested in the company; not only had his parents worked there in life, but their cutting edge research seemed to always be on the cover of science journals, which he was an avid consumer of.

Sometime during the tour, Peter got sidetracked, and in trying to catch up with the group, accidentally made his way into one of the restricted laboratories. As he attempted to avoid detection and backtrack, Peter inadvertently walked in on an ongoing experiment, where he was bitten by a highly mutated, radioactive spider. Within a day, he’d developed superhuman senses, the ability to cling to walls, and enough strength to easily lift the family sedan. Peter told his aunt and uncle about his new powers, and proposed using them to find a way to alleviate their ongoing financial woes, but his uncle shut that plan down, afraid that publicly using his abilities would cause the government, or worse, to take his beloved nephew away. Peter ran off in anger – and, perhaps, guilt that his sudden orphanhood had saddled the childless couple with so many unforeseen expenses – and his uncle followed, only to cross paths with a robber on the run, which shot him dead without a second thought.

For all his newfound strength and power, Peter was unable to do anything to save his uncle.

Peter swore never to let anyone else suffer Ben Parker’s fate, not while he was able to do something about it, and thus, Spider-Man was born.

As far as origin stories go, Kara thinks, this one is – unfortunately for Peter – pretty standard. Losing your loved ones seems to almost be a requirement for the people who follow this path.

“Do you really think it can happen again?” –she asks. “Can OsCorp make more...Spider-people?”

Gwen shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Peter just happened to have the right genetic makeup needed to survive the enhancement. Lightning in a bottle, really.” –she explains. “But that doesn’t really matter, because OsCorp thinks it’ll work. As soon as they found out about Spider-Man, they went into human testing, ethics be damned.”

“And so far, every test subject has died.” –Peter says, grimly. “It’s horrible, and that isn’t even taking into account that most of the ‘volunteers’...aren’t. They got picked up from the streets.”

Kara grimaces. “I assume you have proof?”

“That’s what I’m here to get.” –he says, pulling out a beat-up USB drive from his pocket. From the looks of it, the poor thing had an unfortunate encounter with a washing machine.

The Kryptonian shakes her head. “You two really do need the support. Alright, I’ll help.”

Gwen grins. Kara immediately narrows her eyes. “...but I do have a few conditions: Gwen gets to safety before the action starts. Non-negotiable.”

The blonde teen tries to protest, but Kara shuts her down with a look. “This is going to be dangerous, Gwen. If I recall correctly, OsCorp employs its own private security force, and I’m betting they won’t take kindly to this little espionage plot we’ve got going on.”

The teenager sighs. “Fine. Just...keep me in the loop.”

“Speaking of which, I’m calling in Stark.”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “That’s not a good idea.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “You need a distraction, don’t you?”

“Something subtle, preferably, which Iron Man definitely isn’t.” –Gwen points out.

“Well, true, but two Avengers will look more convincing than just myself. Besides, I’m pretty sure STark personally knows Osborn, so he’ll be a lot more effective than I ever could be alone.” –she reasons.

The teens share a confused look. “Uh...Osborn’s been bedridden since last year, Supergirl. He hasn’t been CEO for a while.”

Kara frowns. As far as the public knows, herself included, OsCorp’s founder is perfectly healthy. “Then who’s the man in charge?”

“It’s a woman, actually.” –Gwen says. “She got promoted from Chief Science Officer when Osborn decided he couldn’t keep up appearances. Her name is Lena Luthor.”

The Kryptonian pales. She hasn’t heard that name in two years. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Um...no. She is the acting CEO. Her computer-reproduced signature is on Gwen’s internship papers.” –Peter jokes.

“Rao, this is already a mess.” –she groans. “Forget about Stark, I’m confronting Lena by myself.”

“Uh...ok? Are you sure?” –Gwen asks.

“Positive. Just make sure you get that information, Spider-Man.” –she says, flying away and towards the main entrance, at street level.

People gawk and whisper as she storms into OsCorp’s lobby, but Kara can’t bring herself to care. She pushes past the security guards at the checkpoint, ignoring the alarms she’s triggering, as well as the shouts of the guards.

“Where can I find Lena Luthor?” –she asks a panicking receptionist.

“F-floor ninety, m-ma’am.” –he squeaks out.

Kara nods and takes flight, as a bunch of heavily armed security personnel approach, assault rifles levelled at her. The building is arranged like one of those toy donut towers – a series of concentric circles with a vast, empty space at its core, currently filled with a self-promoting hologram. OsCorp doesn’t limit itself to the biological sciences; Osborn made sure his brainchild dipped a finger into what seems like every pie, producing everything from military-grade weapon systems – in Stark Industries’ absence – to everyday hygiene products.

It doesn’t take long to reach the ninetieth floor, only a half-dozen stories or so away from the roof. Kara lands, and roughly pushes open the doors to what can only be the CEO’s office.

And yeah; that is definitely Lena Luthor gawking back at her.

Just as she expected, her former roommate, friend, and hopeless crush sits behind a lush, mahogany desk. Lena looks just as beautiful as she had, back in college; where one might describe Kara as the cute-girl-next-door, Lena’s always been the bombshell supermodel. She dresses the part, now, having ditched the messy hoodies and week-old jeans Kara remembers. A tight black dress hugs her statuesque figure, and her long, raven-black hair is made up into a tight, elegant bun.

“Kara?” –the woman gasps out, like she’s been choking. “You’re the security breach? What are you doing here?” –she asks, clearly confused.

The Kryptonian crosses her arms. “I might ask you the same thing. What the hell, Lena? You’ve always talked about improving humanity, but seriously? Illegal human experimentation? That’s low, even for you.”

Luthor scowls, still clueless. “Kara, if this is some kind of vendetta for what I did to you, I’m truly sorry, but...”

“Screw that. I’m not talking about the past, this is something very much ongoing.”

She seems unconvinced, but lets it go. “Then you know something I don’t, clearly. OsCorp has been heavily fined in the past for failing to comply with much less risky regulations. Why would we illegally experiment on people? We’d never recover, if it got out.”

Kara shakes her head. “I don’t know, but I have it on good authority.”

The office’s doors burst open behind Kara, and a squad of heavily armed security guards follow in shortly. “Are you alright, Miss Luthor?” –the lead trooper asks her, a brutal-looking giant of a man, pointing a shotgun straight at Kara’s head.

“I’m just fine. There’s no need for any of this, Supergirl and I are simply talking. Besides, she’s invulnerable. You might as well be threatening her with a bag of marshmallows.” –she says, sardonic. “You may take your leave.”

The guard doesn’t move an inch. “You can’t be serious, ma’am. This...thing just violated every security policy we have. Mr. Osborn would be livid if he knew.” –he defiantly declares.

“As you are very well aware, Norman Osborn left me in charge during his absence. And I will see to it that Kara doesn’t do it again, Mr. Sytsevich.” –she says, her features hardening into a cold grimace. “Now, as I’m sure you’re aware – Norman’s archaic opinions aside – OsCorp does not tolerate any sort of racism, homophobia, or in this case, xenophobia from its employees. Supergirl may not be of this world, but she is a person, and I expect you to respect her.”

Kara crosses her arms. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

A shadow passes over Lena’s face. “Regardless. It’s unacceptable.”

Is it, now?, Kara thinks, biting her tongue. “Thus, while I appreciate your concern and dedication, I’m forced to ask that you please refrain from attending OsCorp’s premises for the next two weeks, Mr. Sytsevich. Your wages will be accordingly sanctioned, of course.”

The man turns scarlet, but finally lowers his weapon. “...of course, Miss Luthor.”

He turns around, and files out of the office, his goons following close behind. Lena lets out a long-suffering sigh, leaning back against her chair. “Half a year at the top, and still they second-guess everything I do.”

“Huh. I thought he was following your lead very well.”

Lena sours. “That is not who I am anymore, Kara. It hasn’t been since...”

“Since I told you I was Kryptonian, and you looked at me like I was the most disgusting creature you’d ever seen? Since you basically kicked me out of our room?”

Since I told you I loved you? goes unsaid.

She stares at her desk, downcast. “...yes. Since then.” –Lena said, then locks eyes with her. “I’m sorry, Kara. I never got to say that, back then – you never gave me the chance, not that I deserved it. You trusted me with your secret, your heritage, your heart...and I couldn’t bring myself to look past my biases.”

Kara purses her lips. The last time Kara and Lena talked was almost two years prior; she was eighteen, and Lena twenty-three – Kara had only just started college, while Lena was polishing off her first PhD. Through a mishap in roommate assignments, they’d gotten the same room, and they’d instantly clicked; they were both orphans, both very smart – Lena quite a bit more, honestly – and they shared a passionate love for humanity. Where Kara’s dreams were to use her powers to benefit the people who’d taken her in, Lena’s goal was to put her immense intellect in service of mankind’s evolution and advancement.

Unfortunately for their continued friendship, Kara fell for Lena, and when she confessed her feelings, no only did she accidentally reveal her alien heritage, she was brutally rejected. Heartbroken, Kara ditched college, starting the chain of terrible jobs that landed her, quite ironically, in the service of the world’s most popular bigot – J. Jonah Jameson, who just so happened to also be Lena’s stepfather.

“It’s in the past, Lena.”- Kara says, fidgeting. “Just...let’s focus on the now.”

Lena pinches the bridge of her nose. “What is there to say? I don’t know what you’re talking about, and you won’t tell me what you know.”

Kara groans. “Have you heard about Spider-Man?”

Lena narrows her eyes. “...the urban legend?”

“Spider-Man is real. He exists, and whatever powers he has, he...might have gotten them here. Hypothetically speaking.”

Understanding dawns upon the CEO’s features. “That’s...you’re talking about the Serum.”

“Serum? What serum?”

“The Serum. Forgive me, I forget you missed most of our education system.” –she says, pensive. “Doctor Abraham Erskine created a formula in the late nineteen-thirties that, when combined with a rare form of electromagnetic radiation, can confer superhuman attributes to whoever is treated with it. He called it the Super Soldier Serum. Erskine was only able to produce two successful specimens with it, before his untimely death: Johann Schmidt, who became the infamous head of HYDRA, the rogue Nazi science division, and the man who eventually defeated him.” –she says, then nods at her. “Your teammate, Steve Rogers.”

Kara hums. “And you’re, what, trying to make more?”

Lena laughs, bitter. “Everyone and their mother has tried, Kara. The creature your friend, Doctor Banner, calls ‘the Hulk’ is the rather disastrous result of one such attempt. So far, no one has succeeded, OsCorp included. In fact, our attempt – which involved gamma radiation and cross-species,  chimeric gene sequencing – was so terrible, it never even reached mice tests, and was subsequently scrapped. I should know; it’s my greatest failure so far. No human testing ever happened.”

“Well, considering Spider-Man is out there, stopping cars with his bare hands, I’d say there was at least one success.”

Lena shakes her head, stubborn. “I’m sorry, Kara, but that is simply impossible. As project director and Head of Biological Research, I personally oversaw that data’s destruction.”

“Well, maybe someone copied it behind your back. You said it yourself; people here don’t trust you much, even as CEO.” –she reasons. “Who else had access to it?”

Lena scowls at the idea. “By the end? Only Osborn and myself. Norman likes to involve himself in every ongoing project, and obviously has full access to every database in the company.”

“You don’t think he might’ve kept a copy?”

“And done what with it?” –Lena says, dismissive. “I’m not supposed to say, but since you are here as an Avengers...Norman is practically knocking on Death’s door. He fell terribly ill a year ago, and in the last six months he’s deteriorated so much that he practically needs twenty-four-seven life support.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “You don’t think some people loyal to him might’ve continued the research without your knowledge?” –she asks. Lena looks angry, but not at Kara. More like she’s realizing something. “Listen, all I know is this guy got bit by a mutant spider, here, and now he can bench a truck and stick to walls.”

Lena fumes, considering the possibility, but does not respond. Instead, her office phone rings and she answers. Kara doesn’t have to wonder what the conversation might be about for long; within seconds, she hears gunshots, coming from below.

“Whatever you and this Spider-Man are planning, I want you to stop.” –Lena says. “I believe your story, and I will get to the bottom of this, but stealing company information isn’t the way to fix this. So, go. Collect your little sidekick, and leave. I’ll get in contact when I find something.

Kara doesn’t appreciate the tone, but she knows Lena well enough to realize that her fury is far from aimed at her. She nods, hurrying towards the violence.

“Oh, and Kara?”

She turns. Lena’s expression is uncomfortable...soft. “Yeah?” –Kara swallows.

The woman she used to love gives her a small smile. “It was good, seeing you.”

Chapter Text

OsCorp’s lobby is a mess – innocent bystanders cower behind whatever cover they can find, be it the reception desk, an overturned vending machines, or the company’s logo. Blocking the only exit, two dozen armed security guards take potshots at a blur of a red and blue figure, which in turn seems to be frantically trying to find a way around them. Hundreds of dark, red splotches cover the place, but Kara’s fairly certain that they aren’t blood.

Why Peter isn’t trying to escape through the roof, she can’t imagine.

Kara touches down, planting herself in the crossfire. “Stop! All of you!” –she barks out.

The vigilante pauses, and she finally gets to admire his new look; where Spider-Man’s first attempt at a costume was little more than a customized jogging outfit, the Stark-made suit is a veritable work of art. The new costume is skin-tight, but thick enough that Peter’s features are obscured. Royal blue makes up the waist, back, and leg areas, while the chest, arms, feet, and head are a bright scarlet, adorned with a spider web-like design in black. Buried under his waist is a utility belt, only evidenced by the various containers protruding through the fabric. In the center of his chest sits a black spider logo, and his mask sports a pair of huge, almost cartoonish white eyes, framed in black, which seem to dynamically change size, mirroring the wearer’s expression underneath.

She’s snapped out of her reverie by the guards, who not only don’t stop shooting, but actually focus fire on her.

Kara knows for a fact that she’s bulletproof – her parents were never made aware, but during her early monthly check-ins with S.H.I.E.L.D., she was subjected to an increasingly perilous variety of tests, ostensibly as part of her Indexation. Most of the experiments were fairly benign, and obviously designed for Enhanced humans – she kind of broke most of those, especially the ones designed to measure superhuman strength. When it came to putting her durability to the test, and seeing that their tests were a bit too mundane for her...well, Fury just picked up a gun and shot her in the face. The round simply bounced off of her forehead, completely harmless.

In any case, her experience serves for her to immediately realize that OsCorp’s men aren’t using real bullets. Bullets, she can feel – they have enough kinetic energy that her nervous system can pick them up, on the level of, perhaps, a particularly tough mote of dust hitting her skin. Whatever she’s getting hit with is much, much weaker – she can only tell she’s getting hit by the squelching sounds the projectiles are making, all over her suit. She looks down, and is mostly unsurprised to find the same red splotches she noticed scattered all around her.

Paint, she thinks. I’m getting shot with paint.

Of course, the substance isn’t just paint; very quickly, it begins to harden, and in seconds, it becomes a thick, rock-like mineral formation. Kara is covered in it – which might’ve been a problem, if she wasn’t, of course, herself. She simply flexes her muscles, and the immobilizing agent is shattered into dust.

“Now that’s just wasteful.” –she says, dusting herself off. She smirks at their gob-smacked expressions. “If you guys are quite done, we’ll just be leaving now.”

She walks forward, Parker shyly following. The guards stare at them, but one by one, they lower their weapons. Once outside, Spider-Man tries to web-zip away, only for the line of webbing to be grabbed by her, and used to haul him up to the top of a nearby building.

Once down, Peter seems to shrink. “I, uh...I can explain?”

“Well, the shoot-out certainly wasn’t part of the plan, so go right ahead.”

Parker hesitates. “I...the data got moved. It makes sense – it must’ve been a huge mistake in the first place, that Gwen was able to just...stumble onto it. I tried to root around for it, which was a mistake, because it triggered the alarms and locked down the floor I was at.”

Supergirl crosses her arms. “And then?”

“Well, I have a hot date with New York’s criminal underworld, so I couldn’t exactly stay.” –he jokes. “So, I forced the blast doors open and ran for the hills. I tried to go out through the ceiling, but Gwen warned me away – they were expecting me, up there.”

She nods. “So you didn’t get anything.”

“I got shot.” –he says, showing her a small patch of red stuff on the back of his left thigh. “Information-wise...no. Sorry.”

Kara sighs. “It’s ok. I talked to Lena, and she says she’ll look into it.”

Peter tilts his head. “’Lena’, huh? You two close?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that. Not anymore. But yeah, we were...friends, in college.”

He hums. “Are you sure we can trust her? For all we know, she’s in the know.”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. Back then, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes, but...well, things, didn’t end well between us, to say the least.” –she admits. “She seems genuine about it, for what it’s worth.”

Parker shrugs. “I guess we just wait, then.”

Kara nods. “I’ll talk to the others. See what they have to say. In the meantime, keep your guard up, and make sure Gwen’s safe; whoever’s behind this now knows for sure you both exist, and are onto them.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I have a new suit, huh?” –he says, preening a bit.

“It is a really good look on you.” –she admits.

“It’s perfect, Kara! It’s got everything! I don’t have to worry about getting shot or stabbed anymore, and this hidden belt thing means my web fluid cartridges won’t fall out of my pockets again! I almost couldn’t afford the ingredients for it anymore...” –he gushes, and for a second, Kara remembers just how damn young he is. “Oh, oh, and the mask! The eyes are so responsive! I can filter as much light as I need to, now! I bet my headaches will be gone, soon.”

Kara’s stomach falls. She’s torn; on the one hand, she already likes this kid – even when he was just Peter Parker to her, she’d always appreciated his kindness and humor, a desperately needed reprieve in the everyday cut-throat environment of the Daily Bugle. She knows he’s had a rough life, but his attitude certainly doesn’t match his dark past. And he’s already done so much; in just a few short months, he’s grown into a skilled, willful crime-fighter, all on his own. Kara was born powerful – both in privilege and, once she landed on Earth, in physical prowess – but Peter’s well on his way to achieving greatness, entirely on his own merits. She’s got half a mind to give up her spot on the team for him to take.

On the other hand, however, he’s still just a kid. Fifteen years old, and already getting shot at on a nightly basis. Five years back, the biggest worry in her mind was trying not to break her pen every time she walked past Riley the quarterback, not a potentially disastrous conspiracy to create super soldiers.

“It’s not me you should be thanking.” –she manages to get a word in. “Stark’s been keeping an eye on you for a while, clearly.”

He laughs nervously. “Yeah, I can tell...everything about this suit is what I’d done if I, y’know, weren’t broke. It’s just...he’s Iron Man, Kara! I can’t just swing by and say hello!”

She rolls her eyes. “Why not? That’s basically how I got the job. Honestly, I’m pretty sure Thor got in the same way, and he’s a god.”

“That’s the thing, though...how do I even compare? I saw what you guys did. The worst I could do was take out a couple of the alien sled thingies. You were out there, sucker punching space whales.”

Kara scowls. “Peter, if we were truly as great as you think we are, you would never have needed to intervene. None of us are perfect, least of all me. Sure, I have all this power – nothing can hurt me, not that I know of, but I still couldn’t save everyone around me. People still got hurt, even died, when I was supposed to protect them.” –she says, then pokes his chest. “Captain Rogers is right; we need people who are willing to give their all in the defense of those who can’t protect themselves. Whatever you became when that spider bit you, ‘superfluous’ is not it.”

Parker seems to straighten up a bit, but his hands still fidget. “Gosh...I, uh, know you can’t see it, but my face kinda matches the color of my mask right now.”

She offers a smile. “You deserve the praise, and much more. You really should swing by the Tower sometime; if nothing else, Tony can fill you in on the specs of your new suit.”

He wrings his hands. “Well...how about a deal?”

Kara cocks her head. “What do you mean?”

“I, uh...Aunt May has been working the graveyard shift at the shelter lately, so I’ve had time to patrol the city almost every night – she gave me a pretty strict midnight curfew for hero stuff, y’know? I’d...love to have some company, if you’re up for it.” –he says, rubbing the back of his head. “Not tonight, though. I gotta catch up with Gwen.”

“Oh? And what would this patrol be like?”

He shrugs. “Just a couple laps around the city, basically. Keeping the peace, y’know? Usually takes me about two hours each. If we’re really lucky, we might run into one of the other vigilantes.”

Kara’s eyebrow rises. “Just how many of you are there?”

“That I’ve met? A good half dozen. Heard of a lot more, but I don’t actually know if they, y’know, exist.”

The Kryptonian hums. “I might just take you up on that. Will you be going to the Bugle tomorrow, too? We could meet on the roof and go from there.”

He facepalms. “Oh my god, that’s where you figured me out, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Followed you all the way to OsCorp.”

“I really need to take a class on being sneaky. I’m lucky it was you this time.”

“’This time’? Who else knows about your powers?”

Parker sighs. “Well, I told my Aunt. And you’ve met Gwen – we’ve been friends forever, so the one time I talked to her as Spider-Man, she instantly recognized my voice.”

“Oof. That’s unfortunate.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Kind of to be expected, though.”

He throws his hands up. “She was gonna get mugged!”

Kara laughs. “Hey, no judgement here. I jumped out of the Bugle in full view of absolutely everyone. Nearly gave Jameson a heart attack.”

Peter snorts. “I know I’m not supposed to say something like this as an aspiring hero, but I’m kinda sorry it didn’t stick.”

“He is kind of the worst.” –she says, chagrined. “Alright, Spidey, get out of here. Say hi to Gwen for me. Meet you tomorrow at sunset?”

The young hero winks at her, back-flipping off of the building. Soon enough, a red and blue blur swings towards Queens. Kara smiles at the sight – but can’t help the worry that follows as she flies off, thinking of New York’s youngest vigilante.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe these people. Stuck in the middle of a shootout, and their first instinct is to record it.” –Winn says, pouring himself a glass of milk.

His new phone – Stark-tech, of course, wouldn’t do to have anything less under Tony’s roof – shows a holographic representation of yesterday’s events, as recorded by an anonymous bystander present at OsCorp’s lobby. “Well, they weren’t using live ammunition.” –Kara reasons, nursing her own massive breakfast. “But still, I get your point. There’s any number of ways that could’ve gone wrong.”

Winn shakes his head. “Well, at least you handled it well. What were you and the Spider-Man doing there, anyway?”

“The plan was just to give him a new suit, but the guy needed help with something on the inside.” –she sighs. “What do you know about super soldiers?”

“What, like in general?” –he asks, to which she nods. “Well, it’s a pretty popular trope. Sort of a power fantasy, y’know? Super soldiers are how you justify having a character that’s practically a one man army.”

“Oh. Like the Master Chief, right?”

He hums in agreement. Kara’s not much of a videogame player, but she’ll watch Winn play sometimes. Halo, despite the invasion they’ve just gone through, is still his favorite game series. “That’s right. In real life, though, it’s kind of been the dream for the military since...well, forever. Captain America proved it could be done, so they’ve tried to replicate it ever since he went down in the Arctic. No dice, though – that we know of, at any rate.”

“OsCorp’s CEO said as much...they came up with their own serum, but it never worked so they scrapped it.” –she says.

Winn crosses his arms. “Makes sense. Osborn’s always been a little obsessed with making human beings perfect.”

Kara tilts her head. “Perfect?”

“Yeah, like...well, kind of like you, Kara.” –he says, a slight blush making an appearance on his cheeks. “You’re indestructible, super strong, can’t get sick, barely need sleep...” –he lists off.

She frowns. “No living being is perfect.” –she says, gesturing to the twelve-thousand or so calories she’s in the painfully slow process of consuming. “There’s always a trade-off.”

“Sure, but you try telling Osborn that. And the US Army, for that matter.”

“Wish I could, but the guy is supposedly on his deathbed. I don’t think he’d be up for a debate.”

Winn blinks. “Wait, what? Are we talking about the same guy?”

Kara winces. “Um...well, it’s supposed to be a secret, but Norman Osborn is terminally ill. Has been for over a year, and you’re never gonna guess who stepped up as acting CEO in his absence.”

Her friend seems shocked. “Jesus...who is it?”

“Lena Luthor.”

Winn balks. “Seriously? Holy shit. She’s only been in the company for, what, a couple of years? I know she’s a verified super genius, but that’s still a hell of a ladder climb.”

“Winn, you knew she worked there?” –Kara asks, raising her eyebrows.

“Well...yeah, didn’t you? I didn’t particularly keep up with her, or anything, but I do have a Facebook account, Kara. It’s good for laughing at the poor life choices of people who used to pick on me.” –he shrugs. “Anyway, Lena’s never been very active on social media, but she did make the announcement back then.”

Kara shakes her head. “I never knew.”

“I...guess that’s totally understandable. She was a total bitch to you. Who slaps someone confessing a crush? Seriously.”

“It didn’t exactly hurt.” –she mutters.

“Maybe not physically, but Kara, you were an absolute mess afterwards. I still remember Alex’s face when you told her; she looked like she was about to put together a strike team to eliminate Lena with extreme prejudice. And that was before I knew she was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, mind you.”

She sighs. “Yeah, it...it wasn’t great.” –she says, a pang of sadness deflating her a bit. “Anyway, I spoke with her, and she said she’ll keep us in the loop. Someone at OsCorp seems to be illegally experimenting behind her back.”

Winn scowls. “Careful, Kara. We both know Lena’s not the most...trustworthy person.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance, Winn.”

“As the son of a serial killer who very much earned the seat he last sat on, I’m gonna have to disagree with you, there.” –he says, sardonic.

Kara winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up those memories.”

“S’not like they’re not always up there, buddy.” –he shrugs, tapping his temple. “I’m just saying, Kara; Lena hurt you so badly that you ended up scrapping your entire career plan. Maybe I’m being pessimistic, but I never want to see your heart break like that, ever again.”

She smiles, bashful. “Aww...thanks for always looking out for me, Winn.”

“Don’t mention it. Just doing my duty as ‘designated best friend’ in Alex’s absence.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “So, anyway, how’s life been in Stark Tower so far?”

Winn smirks. “You mean ‘Avengers Tower’?” –he asks.

“Whoa, what? Since when?”

“Stark made the announcement at about the same time you and Spider-Man were tearing up OsCorp. This place is now the official base of all current and future Avengers.”

Kara hums. “I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of a superhero base in the middle of the highest populated city in the country. What if we get attacked?”

Winn points at her, nodding. “He talked about that, actually. Said he’s working on a major security redesign for the whole building. It might take a month or so, but it’ll turn this place into a fortress.”

“We’ll be vulnerable till then, though. More importantly, it’ll put everyone around us in danger. I mean, we’re sitting right on top of Grand Central station.”

“I’ve got long term plans, Danvers.” –Stark says, walking into the kitchen. “This tower’s just a placeholder. I managed to pry one of my father’s old facilities from Fury’s claws a while back, and I’ve been getting it ready for us. I didn’t know who’d be on the final team, so it’s still pretty barebones, but it should prove a much better alternative than this place.”

Kara frowns. “I thought the Avengers formed more...spontaneously than that.”

He snorts. “Sorry to disappoint, but Fury’s been trying to get a band of misfits like us together since before he had to use the eyepatch.” –he says, then motions for her to follow. “Now, if you’re done consuming your weight in bacon, you have to go change; we’re on the clock.”

The Kryptonian gasps. “We’re going on a mission? Already?”

Stark winks. “We’ve got the new digs, don’t we? Might as well celebrate with a post-op party.”

Chapter Text

Watching Rogers and Stark interact reminds Kara of the relationship between aunt Astra and uncle Non; Astra had been a very...free spirit, to say the least, a poet and lyricist before embarking on her ultimate fate as a self-proclaimed freedom fighter – or rather, according to Krypton’s High Council, a terrorist. Non was practically her polar opposite, a no-nonsense career soldier proudly serving under General Dru-Zod until Astra practically seduced him into the cause. As much as they seemed to truly love each other, Kara can’t quite remember a time they didn’t get on each other’s nerves.

If the two knuckleheads she’s on mission with keep it up, Kara’s pretty sure they’ll end up either killing each other, or passionately making out.

Stark, she figures out very quickly, prefers to just do things. Rogers wants to plan everything out beforehand. Now, Kara doesn’t mind not going in bland – the Battle of New York was terrifying, not the least of the reasons being that no one really knew when the aliens would stop pouring in – but even she has to admit that Captain Rogers’ thirty minutes of briefing were kinda pointless, if not downright boring – especially when, rather uncharacteristically for S.H.I.E.L.D.-provided intelligence, they really don’t have much to go on.

What they do know is that a small gang of unknown, un-Indexed Enhanced managed to pilfer a few blasters from a shipment of salvaged Chitauri weapons, and plan to do so again. The agency doesn’t seem to know how, or why, but they do know when and where.

Namely, I-95, thirty miles from Washington D.C., five minutes from now.

“There’s the Damage Control truck.” –the Captain announces at the Quinjet’s co-pilot seat, JARVIS being the one actually flying the borrowed craft.

“I don’t get it.” –Kara mutters, crossing her arms. “First they steal a couple of plasma rifles, now an entire shipment? That’s a heck of a jump, and so soon, too?”

“Their first stint was probably a test of some kind. Maybe they’re trying out their powers, maybe their willingness to rob an international security agency blind.” –Stark notes over the comms. Kara glances out the window and spots Iron Man easily keeping up, just a few hundred feet to their left.

The Kryptonian frowns; something about the whole thing seems fishy to her. She tries to focus on something else, and settles on Rogers’ new uniform.

She can’t quite fathom where Stark finds the time, but the new suit – replacing his damaged, S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued one – is awesome. Gone are the eye-popping red, white, and blue of the American flag, replaced by a more muted and serious navy, maroon, and bone white, the silver star in the middle of his chest still very much the ensemble’s centerpiece. The suit has a much narrower, form-fitting profile, owing to the same proprietary fabric Stark used for her own costume, and the helmet is now a separate piece, sitting on a rack beside the aircraft’s exit ramp. The iconic, indestructible shield remains unchanged

.Rogers speaks up, bringing her back to focus. “You’re up, Supergirl. Remember: your first priority should always be getting civilians out of danger.”

“Still, if you get the chance to wallop, don’t hesitate.” –Stark adds.

The Captain frowns. “If we don’t have things handled...then yes, you’ll get to be the cavalry. You’re our big gun, after all.” –he says, then smirks. “You’ll do great, Kara.”

“Thanks, Captain.” –she says, more than a little nervous. She then walks towards the ramp, and opens it.

Kara lets herself get sucked out by the pressure differential, momentarily enjoying the vertigo of freefall, then takes off towards the massive, armored truck. Stark takes the lead, diving like a particularly sturdy peregrine falcon. As they get close, what appears to be a small comet makes a beeline towards their target, from the opposite direction.

“There’s the first guy.” –Stark says, as the flaming man tosses a couple of fireballs at the truck, which tanks the hits like they’re nothing. “It’ll take a bit more than a few globs of superheated plasma to stop that truck. I designed them to take a beating.”

The burning figure takes the hint pretty quickly, stopping the attacks, instead following along only a few feet behind. With the first strike having proved ineffective, a second Enhanced joins the fray; this one is...unique, to say the least, a pile of orange rocks given life and a vaguely humanoid shape. The man – well, the figure looks vaguely masculine, at any rate – plants himself in the middle of the road, and braces for impact.

“...alright, that might be enough.” –Stark mutters, engaging the armor’s afterburners and leaving Kara in the dust. Iron Man blazes past the human bonfire and the truck, and slams into the rock person, sending them both careening away from the truck’s path. The armored vehicle continues, undeterred.

The flaming man looks backwards and spots her, immediately tossing a few fireballs in her general direction. Kara easily dodges them, making sure the projectiles don’t endanger the rest of the people on the highway, most of whom have wisely chosen to lag behind the action.

“I’m gonna need you to stop fireballing that truck, sir.” –she shouts, hovering to a stop.

The man seems to smile, though his white-hot, coal-like skin makes it admittedly hard to tell. “And I need to grab what’s inside. Sorry blondie.” –he says, his voice distorted by the flaming aura around his form.

She purses her lips, and launches herself towards the man, intending to grab and subdue him. Before she can reach him, however, she crashes face-first against what appears to be thin air. Rubbing the stars out of her eyes, Kara discovers that she’s now enclosed in a shimmering, glass-like box.

The man smirks, smug, and blasts off after the truck again. Below her, a blonde woman, some five years older than her, appears out of nowhere. She wears navy camo pants, a gray scarf, and a royal blue shirt under a dark gray jacket. Her left hand is extended, palm open and facing towards her. “I’m guessing you’re the one holding me captive, right?” –Kara asks.

The girl nods, but she seems scared, even nervous. “Y-yeah.”

“it’s a pretty cool power.” –she admits. “What’s your name?”

“Sue.” –she says. “W-we really don’t want to hurt anyone, but...w-we need what’s in that truck.”

“Why?” –Kara asks.

The girl pauses. “I...can’t tell you. They won’t let me.” –she says, sad. “I’m so sorry.”

Kara frowns. “Well, can you at least let me out of this?”

She shakes her head, gulping hard. “If I do, you’ll go after my brother. I can’t let you stop him, or my friends.”

The Avenger rests her palms against the strange, invisible wall. “Sue, there are very dangerous weapons inside that truck. If they get in the wrong hands, a lot of innocent people will be endangered.”

Sue winces. “It’s not the guns they w-gah!” –she screams, doubling over in pain, clutching at her neck. Kara realizes that she’s wearing some kind of shock collar, previously hidden by the scarf.

“Who’s making you do this?” –she demands, bile rising as she realizes the situation Sue seems to be in.

The girl tears up, panting from the shock. “I’m sorry. I...they’ve ordered me to kill you.” –she says, wide-eyed. Kara could be wrong, of course, but Sue doesn’t look like she could harm a fly. She starts to close her extended hand, and Kara notices that the barely visible walls around her constrict. Taking a deep breath, she draws her fist back, and punches.

The ‘wall’ flares cyan, ever so briefly resisting before breaking apart into nothingness. At the same time, Sue yelps and collapses, suddenly unconscious. Kara wastes no time in flying to her side, only to find that the collar around her neck has started beeping. Frantic, Kara searches for the source, and finds a thicker section of the device at Sue’s nape, along with a blinking red light. Deducing its explosive nature, she clamps her hands around it, just in time for it to detonate against her palms with a rather pathetic poof that fails to reflect its macabre purpose.

Relieved, Kara looks Sue over, removing the broken collar. Aside from a massive nosebleed, and a minor burn from the explosion, she seems fine. She lifts the younger woman, bridal style, and flies up in the truck’s general direction. As she does, Sue’s body becomes invisible, seemingly involuntarily – probably an odd side effect of her Enhancements.

“JARVIS, I need an ambulance or something.” –she says. “I’ve captured one of the Enhanced, but she’s passed out, and her pulse feels a bit fluttery.”

The AI immediately responds. “Understood. Please deposit the prisoner in the approaching Quinjet.”

Kara looks around and spots the aircraft, a couple of miles away. She races to meet it, patiently waiting as it switches to VTOL mode and opens up. She steps inside, surprised to find it empty.

“Where’s the Captain?” –she asks, as she secures Sue against one of the spare seats. She fishes some handcuffs out of an equipment rack, and locks her charge’s wrist to the crash bar above.

“Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark are locked in combat with two unidentified individuals, approximately eight miles south of this position.”

“Got’cha. Watch over her, will you?” –she says, getting ready to jump out again.

“Will do. Godspeed, Miss Danvers.”

Kara takes off, heading towards the action at her top speed – just shy of Mach 1. It takes just over half a minute to reach her teammates, but Kara takes a bit longer to survey the area and make sure nobody’s hurt or in need of assistance. Satisfied, she focuses on the fight.

Rogers is clearly having trouble; his fighting style is probably meant for smaller, softer targets, and the huge, orange...thing he’s fighting is precisely none of those things. Still, he’s doing a fine job of keeping the stone man busy. Stark, on the other hand, has already managed to keep the flaming man grounded and pinned down, hovering above and bombarding his cover – abandoned cars and concrete dividers, for the most part.

Deciding the Captain could use her help, she swoops in.

“Incoming!” –she shouts, and delivers the mother of all sucker punches to the rocky creature, Rogers scrambling to roll out of the way.

The hit connects with his chin, sending the Enhanced flying, bits of rock left behind in his wake. Kara looks at the debris, horrified that she’s overestimated the creature’s toughness, but she finds relief as she sees the man’s strange ‘skin’ grow back within seconds – by, seemingly, absorbing bits of loose pavement and gravel. He rises right back, and roars at them. Kara idly notes that his face is surprisingly expressive.

The man grabs a large, nearby rock from the side of the road, and tosses it at them, but Kara simply floats up and catches it, returning the favor. He crosses his arms in front of him, and takes the hit, no problem.

“We don’t have to fight.” –Kara cautions. “I know you guys don’t want to hurt anybody.”

He ignores her; instead, he bellows in anger, and leaps at her with surprising speed, bringing down his clasped hands on her head and sending her hurtling to the ground. The fall is pretty small, maybe twenty feet, but the impact still sends up a shower of asphalt into the air.

Kara shakes her head, dazed; she felt that one.

A massive hand easily encircles her torso, digging her out of her small crater, but before the man can do much more than lightly squeeze her midsection, Cap’s shield slams against his wrist, shattering it. He grunts in pain and opens his damaged hand, which Kara takes advantage of, landing a quick uppercut, which staggers him, and then a powerful knee to his abdomen, causing him to double over.

Kara scowls, realizing he doesn’t have a shock collar like Sue’s – or any clothing aside from some ill-fitting blue shorts, for that matter. “What are they holding against you?” –she demands, but the rock man doesn’t answer. He tries to rise, but Kara punches him right back down, stronger this time.

“What did you mean?” –Cap asks, walking up to her, warily eyeing the seemingly unconscious man. “You said they don’t mean to hurt anybody.”

“I was trapped a couple miles back by this girl who could...well, it sounds crazy, but she could turn invisible and create these barriers out of thin air.” –she explains, pointing back north. “She said her name was Sue, and implied they were all being forced into this. Must be true, because as soon as I defeated her, the shock collar around her neck blew up.”

“Shock collar!?” –he asks, outraged. “Is she...?”

“Alive. A little weak from overusing her powers, I think, but otherwise fine.”

“Seeing as you’ve both forgotten how to use your comms,” –Stark says, walking up to them, “I took the liberty of listening in on your little convo with Sue.” he says, the golden faceplate suddenly lifting to reveal the man beneath. “Kara’s right; Sue and the, uh, human torch back there were receiving a signal of some kind. You got to her before JARVIS and I could figure out a way to block it, but we managed to keep whoever’s behind this from blowing up the kid.”

Kara looks back to the other Enhanced – also unconscious, entangled in a set of thin metal cables. “Uh...won’t those melt when he wakes up?” –she asks. The man’s skin now looks like barely glowing cinders, the fiery aura completely absent.

Stark shakes his head. “That’s a top of the line tungsten alloy. Unless he can get...oh, I don’t know, about three times hotter than he’s been so far, they’ll hold him.”

“What about this guy?” –she asks, crossing her arms and looking at the rocky pile of man at her feet. “This guy’s really strong.”

“Not stronger than you, clearly.” –Rogers says, placing his shield on the harness at his back. “I have to say, I felt kind of...obsolete there, for a second.” –he jokes.

Kara shakes her head. “If you hadn’t kept him busy, I wouldn’t have been able to surprise him like that. Plus, I’d have been in a world of trouble if you hadn’t forced him to drop me.”

Stark rolls his eyes, clearly not buying her angle. “If you two are quite done with the pep talk, we should get these guys back to the Tower.”

“We’re not gonna wait for S.H.I.E.L.D.?” –Kara wonders.

“No need. We can hold them there, no problem. Plus, I don’t exactly trust Fury with young, impressionable super-people.”

Kara snorts. “Subtle, there.” –she retorts. “But I don’t disagree. I think I was getting through to Sue, anyway.”

“At this rate, you’re gonna end up recruiting someone before Capsicle here does.”

Rogers sighs, long-suffering. “This is not a competition, Tony.”

Stark tilts his head. “Do you ever not suck the fun out of every situation you’re in?”

“I swear to God, Stark, if you’re gonna start an argument on our first mission...”

Kara groans. “Alright, you two: I have no clue why you just love getting on each other’s nerves, but this is neither the time nor the place. Save it for later; people are starting to gawk.”

Indeed, a crowd’s begun to gather around their impromptu battlefield, taking pictures and chattering amongst themselves. Stark gives them a little practiced wave, smirking, and even Rogers spares a little smile for those assembled. The crowd points to the sky in surprise, as their Quinjet begins to hover down for a landing. Satisfied, Kara bends down and grabs the rock man’s shoulder in order to lift him.

All in all, she thinks, I think we did alright.

She doesn’t notice, however, the young man with salt and pepper hair in the crowd of onlookers, walking away with a grim expression.

Chapter Text

“I’m telling you, you don’t need it.”

“And I’m telling you, without this, I’m not staying. I won’t lie; fighting alongside you guys was a good thing. But I...we need the reassurance, Tony. I’m sorry.”

Kara frowns as she walks into the kitchen for a snack, feeling quite a bit peckish after a couple of hours of watching over a still unconscious Sue. Stark is there, still in the armor for some reason, holding his helmet under his left arm. There’s someone else new – someone she hasn’t met, in the form of a shorter, haggard-looking graying man, wearing large glasses and ridiculously loose clothing. The newcomer is in the process of brewing tea at the stovetop, and startles a bit when she walks in.

Stark nods at her. “Hey Kara. How are our guests?”

She purses her lips. “Still down for the count. Vitals are strong, though.” – she says, taking a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.” –she tells the man.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, no. I’m Doctor Bruce Banner.”

“Kara Zor-El. Or Danvers, whichever works best in conversation.” –she says, extending her hand. He shakes it, gingerly.

“You’re the ‘Supergirl’ I’ve been hearing so much about, right?”

She nods. “Are you here to check on the patients? I don’t think they’ll be violent, if that helps.”

He turns to Stark, confused. The billionaire snorts. “Bruce isn’t that kind of doctor, Kara. That’s what I’m flying Helen Cho from Seoul for.”

“I, uh...also wasn’t talking about that kind of reassurance. Not exactly worried about what people can do to me. Quite the opposite, in fact.” –Banner explains. “I’m the Hulk.”

Understanding dawns on Kara’s expression. “Oh! I am so sorry. I guess I should’ve paid more attention in school, huh?” –she says, embarrassed. “Your name was probably on half the biology tests I’ve taken. I just never, y’know, connected it to your face.”

Banner smiles, good-naturedly. “That’s ok. I wasn’t one for public appearances even before the Hulk. And I don’t think most people have connected the dots on my relation to the, uh, other guy, either – I’ve been told my face is really hard to remember.”

Kara hums, slightly mollified. “So, you’re staying with us, then? Will you keep being an Avenger?”

“Well, that’s really up to Tony.” –he says. “I don’t mean to impose, billionaire or not, but I do have certain...conditions I’d like him to meet.”

“Like what?” –she asks, then coughs. “Er, if it’s not too rude to ask.”

Banner shakes his head. “Don’t worry, you’re fine.”

Stark sighs. “Bruce wants me to create a sort of...countermeasure to the Hulk. In case he goes rogue, he says. Which is kind of ridiculous, if you ask me, considering half the city owes their lives to the big guy, myself included.”

“It’s still a very real possibility, and you should absolutely account for it. Even the Hulk agrees.” –Banner declares, then amends, sheepish. “Well, for the most part.”

Kara raises an eyebrow, picking up an apple from the fruit basket. “So, wait...you and the Hulk are separate people?”

“It’s not as cut and dry as it sounds.” –he admits. “It’s more like...a Venn diagram; he and I act and think very differently, but it’s not like we have two separate brains. He knows and remembers what I do, and vice versa. The Hulk can understand every bit as much science as I can.” –he says, then shrugs. “He just doesn’t care much for any of it.”

She ponders the description, munching on the apple. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but it’s kind of fascinating.” –she says. “Don’t get me wrong; I understand why you’d be a bit apprehensive, but still.”

“You’re not afraid of him.” –he says, a small but notable twinkle of hope in his eyes.

Kara shakes her head. “Should I be?”

Banner hums. “I’m not sure. They do say you’re really strong. How strong are we talking, here?” –he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. I sort of...broke every test S.H.I.E.L.D. threw my way.” –she says, blushing.

Tony smirks at Banner’s awestruck expression. “Kinda makes me wanna see an arm-wrestling competition between the two of you – no offense, buddy, but my bet’s on Kara. Maybe throw in Thor, if he ever shows up again...make a party out of it?”

“I bet he’d love that.” –Banner says, fondly.

“Well, I’m definitely up for it. It’s really exciting to be around people I don’t have to fear...y’know, breaking.” –Kara eagerly says.

Stark gives Banner an ‘I told you so’ kind of look. “See? Even if the Hulk were to go a little off-script, and even if Thor were on the other side of the galaxy, we have Kara now. Nothing to fear, buddy.”

Banner seems to shrink a little. “I hope you don’t mind me saying it, Kara, but I wouldn’t leave it all to you.” –he says. “You of all people should understand, Tony. You just told me about the modular armor designs you’re making, just in case some hyper-specific problem arises. What if Supergirl can’t shut the Hulk down quickly enough? What if he beats her? There has to be some kind of contingency.”

“I don’t think that rabbit hole leads anywhere good, Bruce. Say I build this...Hulkbuster. Say you somehow manage to defeat the strongest woman on Earth. I come in, kick your ass a bunch...then what?”

Banner grimaces, turning off the stove. “You do what you need to do to keep people safe.”

Stark scoffs. “You’re asking me to create a way to kill you, pal. That’s not something I’ll ever do, even if the Hulk turns on us.”

Kara clears her throat. “Well, I think it’s a good idea.” –she says. “This ‘Hulkbuster’ concept, I mean. If I were ever made to do bad things, I’d want to be stopped, too.”

Stark frowns at her. She holds up her hand before he can protest, looking at Bruce. “However, there’s really no need to talk about putting you down. Even the Hulk has his limits, right?”

Banner grumbles. “If he does, no one’s found them.”

“So, let’s discover them. I can help, Doctor Banner. I don’t mind sparring with your alter ego. Especially if it means you find some peace of mind.”

The deceptively frail-looking man seems to consider this, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. He pours himself a cup of tea, and offers another to each of the other Avengers. Stark declines, but Kara accepts hers, immediately downing half of the scalding liquid.

“Okay.” –Banner says, finally. “We’ll design it together.”

Stark grudgingly nods. “I guess getting to say ‘Iron Man smash!’ is worth it.”

She smiles. “This’ll be fun, guys! You’ll see.”

“You are entirely too happy about the idea of getting pummeled by the Hulk.” –Stark says, amused. “I’ll leave you two to whatever it is the strongest people on Earth do in their free time. I gotta go see the President about a thing.”

He slips on the helmet, which secures itself around his head, then walks out of the kitchen. Soon enough, the roar of jet boosters rumbles outside the Tower.

Banner spares a small smile for her. “So, what does the strongest person on the planet do in her free time?”

Kara snorts. “I don’t know about you, but I eat. Abundantly. Rao, I’m starving.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I get that. Brunch?”

“Definitely brunch.”

Brunch is surprisingly entertaining; she leads Bruce to a nearby deli shop incongnito and orders the most monstrously caloric meal she can find for them both. Doctor Banner, meek and awkward thou he may seem, is a pleasantly fun conversationalist, all wry humor and sarcastic jabs. It’s not hard to notice the undercurrent of depression and self-destructive tendencies – and she’ll be asking Stark about Avenger policy regarding psych evals and counseling going forward – but the doctor seems to have a handle on his issues, for the time being.

She learns that he’s fresh off an extended stay in India, following a globe-trotting escape caused by his fight in Harlem last year. He also reveals that the woman he considered to be the love of his life has recently married someone else – someone decidedly not harboring a giant, green persona with terrible anger management issues. He also says that, before becoming host to the Hulk, he went and got 7 PhDs.

Kara’s pretty sure that says about as much about his ability to plan a career as it does about his enormous intellect.

In return, she answers some of his questions about Krypton. She’s not really comfortable, talking about its destruction, but she can talk about their culture. She talks about the joyous feeling of Rao’s light on her skin, about Krypton’s ancient rivalry with its sister planet, Daxam, and about life as an heir to the Noble House of El. She remembers the joy she felt at Kal-El’s birth, and the sorrow that followed Astra and Non’s sentence of exile in the Phantom Zone.

By early afternoon, the two return to the Tower for a debriefing session with Rogers. The Captain is waiting for them in the conference room, still in-uniform.

“Doctor Banner.” –he greets, offering a hand. “I’m glad you decided to stay on.”

Bruce smiles wryly, returning the gesture. “Well, from what I hear, you guys are a little...understaffed at the moment.”

“Hopefully not for too long. Might be we get a certain arachnid-themed partner soon, right Kara?” –he asks, crossing his arms.

Kara blanches. “Um...I can explain?” –she says, meekly.

Rogers shakes his head. “No need, I caught yesterday’s news. I am not happy that you and Stark decided to go behind my back on this.” –he says, then sighs a bit. “That being said, I do trust that you know what you’re doing. You and I both know Spider-Man’s been avoiding me, anyway; if you’re the one who can actually get through to him, then that’s just how it is.”

Kara nods. “Do you...still want me to offer him a spot on the team?”

“Just let him know he has our full support. We can figure the rest out once he’s old enough to make that kind of decision.”

“Alright.”

Rogers grabs his belt buckle. Kara can’t picture a more representative image of authority than that. “Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk about our guests.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Did they wake up? Is Sue still invisible?”

“Mr. Grimm did. So did Mr. Storm, but he’s not willing to talk unless his sister is present.” –he says. “I think you’re right, Kara. These guys are good people put in a bad spot. Ben wouldn’t say much about their circumstances, and he definitely wouldn’t tell me how they got their powers, but he did defend the rest of the gang – even offered to take full responsibility for their actions, just so they could go free.”

Banner frowns. “We, uh, keeping prisoners now?”

Rogers shakes his head. “It’s not like that, Doctor. They can go whenever they want; I just asked them to stay until Doctor Cho arrived and we’d made sure things are safe for them.”

The doctor hums, backing down. “I could get started on analyzing their vitals. I’m definitely not that kind of doctor, but I can still try and interpret the results. See if they tell us anything about the origin of their powers.”

Rogers nodded, then looked pointedly at Kara. “I’ll stay with Sue while you do that. I’m sure she’ll talk to me once she wakes up.” –she says.

“Ow.” –Sue mutters, suddenly reappearing.

Kara looks up from her phone, nearly floating from the surprise. “Oh! You’re awake!” –she exclaims. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, my head’s still on, so that’s a plus.” –she jokes. Sue swallows thickly, prompting Kara to hand her a glass of water. “I...feel kinda foggy. It’s, uh...hard to keep myself visible.”

She nods. “That’d be the power dampeners in the room. I think Tony said it’s a mild nerve agent he and S.H.I.E.L.D. came up with. It’s not harmful to humans, but it’s supposed to make it harder for you to concentrate enough to effectively use your powers.”

She ponders this. “That’s smart. I bet you’re immune to it, too.”

“Yeah, it just smells a little funny to me. Like...coconut. And rust, for some reason.”

Sue spares a smile, then winces. “My head is killing me. My neck hurts a bunch, too.”

“Well, that’s definitely on me. You fell unconscious when I punched through your barrier, and then got a few burns when I contained the bomb around your neck. Should’ve ripped that collar off and thrown it into the stratosphere. I’m sorry.”

Sue shakes her head. “Don’t worry about it. Like I said, at least I still have a head.”

Kara nods carefully. “You definitely do.”

“I’ve never had a force field fail on me before.” –she confesses, slowly sipping on her water. Kara gets the distinct impression that this isn’t the first time she’s been in this position. “They’ve thrown everything at me, y’know? Bullets, missiles, grenades...even a tank shell, once. And you just...punched it, right open.”

“I never thought it’d knock you out.” –Kara says, sheepish. “I should’ve thought it through a little more.”

“You saved my life, Supergirl. Let’s leave it at that.”

She nods. “Right. But please, call me Kara. Kara Danvers.”

“Susan Storm. Sue will do.” –she says, offering a small smile. “What about the others? Johnny and Ben, are they okay?”

“They’re fine. A little more beat up than you, but they’re up and about, a few rooms over.”

Sue looks around the place – half containment cell, half hospital room. “Where are we?”

“Avengers Tower. We’re waiting for a doctor to come in and give you the all-clear.”

The bedridden blonde nods, then closes her eyes, exhausted. “They told us we might see you there, y’know? The Avengers. They said it might be too high profile for you to ignore.”

“Who’s ‘they’? And why risk something like this, if they knew we’d notice?”

Sue winces. “I don’t know the specifics. None of us do but Reed. As for your other question...I don’t think they knew what to expect from you. Iron Man going around, blowing bad guys up is one thing; a whole team of people like him? That’s new. That’s dangerous.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Who’s Reed?”

“He’s my husband. Reed Richards. I guess you could say he’s our...leader. Or at least, he’s the only one the people behind all this will talk to.”

“Why wasn’t he with you? And what can you tell me about the other two, Johnny and Ben?”

“Johnny’s my brother. Ben is my husband’s lifelong friend.” –she says. “Reed’s powers are very useful, but his real strength is his mind. He hangs back while we do the jobs.”

Kara crosses her arms. “How and when did you get these powers?”

“It’s a long story.” –Sue warns.

“I’ve got time. Got nowhere to be until sunset, actually.”

She sighs. “Alright. Do you...know anything about cosmic energy?”

Kara shakes her head. Sue nods, like she expected as much. “I’m not surprised. It’s barely recognized as a theory by the scientific community, much less a widely known or accepted phenomenon.”

The blonde smiles fondly. “Reed’s always had a mind for science, y’know? It’s why I fell in love with him in the first place. Late nights crunching numbers to cheap, microwaveable dinners and Carl Sagan’s Cosmos on the background...but the kind of knowledge he deals with has always been considered ‘fringe science’ – the kind of theories that get you laughed off a stage, no matter how much evidence you present.”

“Are you talking about like, cryptids or something?” –Kara asks.

Sue scowls. “No, nothing like that. It’s...things that we can document but modern science can’t explain yet. Cosmic energy is thought to be a simple amalgam of high energy subatomic particles moving through space at relativistic speeds, but the way it interacts with matter can’t be explained away as something so simple.” –she explains. “You’ve seen what we can do. If we’d been exposed to what mainstream science understands as cosmic rays, we’d simply be dead, not...whatever we are, now.”

Kara hums. “And your husband thought he’d solved the mystery?”

“He did solve the mystery. Or at least, confirmed and measured the supernatural effects of this kind of energy.” –she says, clearly proud. “Reed’s been obsessed with the concept ever since he witnessed an Einstein-Rosen bridge as a kid.”

Seeing Kara’s confusion, she coughs. “Thor’s preferred method of transportation? The uh, Rainbow Bridge, Supergirl.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’ve seen the video.”

“...right. Reed was...present for one of the Asgardians’ earlier visits, some twenty years ago. No idea who it was, or what they came here for, but Reed saw it happen: a wormhole, right before his eyes. Science couldn’t explain it yet – and it still can’t, no matter how much Doctor Jane Foster might want to say otherwise – but Reed developed this theory along the years that there was some kind of unknown force at play. He spent years trying to prove it, crafting the theory, but...well, he couldn’t gather any evidence. No one would support his experiments, and he eventually ran out of money and patience.”

“Then,” –Sue shudders, “he met Victor.”

Kara frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Supergirl, there’s something seriously wrong with that man. I’ve only ever met him the one time, and it’s still disturbing to think about. He’s...tall, handsome, well-spoken, but...there’s something in his eyes. It makes my guts twist just remembering.” –she explains, hugging herself. “Victor, he heard of Reed’s research. He had a similar theory, and he was willing to fund some serious experiments.”

“Like what?”

The blonde sits up a bit. “Do you remember how the government tried – and miserably failed – to explain away the New Mexico incident?”

“Thor’s fight with the Destroyer, right? They said a satellite fell on Puente Antiguo, I think. Tried to play it off as an accident, but there were too many witnesses talking, too many videos already out.”

Sue nods. “It was a total PR disaster, but there was some truth to the lie. A small spacecraft did fall to Earth that day, with us inside.”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Rao. You were up there, studying the Rainbow Bridge.”

A small, proud smile blossoms on her face. “Like I said; Victor was willing to fund us. I don’t know how he managed to put together the shuttle, much less launch it into orbit, but he did. He disguised the whole thing as a satellite launch, and off we went.”

“He must be incredibly wealthy.” –Kara mutters. “Thor was on Earth for barely a month. How did you even know when the Bridge would form?”

Sue shakes her head. “I honestly don’t know. Reed said Victor could somehow...predict it, but he didn’t believe it, and neither do I. In any case, Victor’s coordinates put us way too close to the Bridge, and the beam struck our spacecraft. Obliterated it, really, leaving us with no chance of regaining control of it. To make matters worse, we’d been bathed in cosmic energy – our bodies were changing before our eyes. We managed to pack into an escape pod before the vessel fell, but...well, the damage was done.” –she says, surprisingly bitter. “Reed and I have tried everything we could think of, but our conditions are, by all accounts, irreversible. I’ll have to live life constantly thinking about not turning invisible. My brother might never be able to touch anyone without burning them. And Ben? God...he got it the worst. His own mother wouldn’t be able to recognize him.”

Kara purses her lips. She’s glad they survived, but to change so drastically...”I know it’s not the same, but...I kinda get it. What you’ve been through – not the accident, maybe, but the changes.”

“What do you mean?” –Sue asks, skeptical.

“I wasn’t always this strong.” –Kara confesses. “Back on Krypton, I was more or less the same as a regular human. Kryptonians, we were genetically engineered to adapt to new environments – when I landed on Earth, I changed. Every little move I made could suddenly break people. I’d lose control and float, having to hang on for dear life or risk flying off like a stray balloon. And don’t even get me started on the heat vision...I know your situation is objectively more difficult, but I want you to know that it helps, having people around who get it. People whose lives were changed, like yours were – like the Hulk, like me. We’re here for you.”

Sue looks down at her hands. She turns invisible, leaving only the somewhat comical image of a floating hospital gown and bedsheets. “You’re right; it’s not the same. You still get to look like you. Whatever people say about you, the one thing they can’t hold against you is your appearance.” –she says, tired. Kara winces, but Sue reappears with a small smile on her face. “That being said, the hell we’ve been through...it’s only been a bit more bearable knowing my loved ones were with me every step of the way. And now that you guys saved us from it, I’m ready to pay it forward.” –she says, resolute.

Kara nods, serious. “Who are we going after?”

Sue falters, but doesn’t stop. “The name of their organization is Centipede. They...collect people like us – people with powers. They call us ‘Enhanced’. They picked us up after the crash, which I can only assume means Victor is in league with them. They’ve...employed us, ever since – we collected other Enhanced, stole company secrets, served as test dummies for their inventions. Like I said, only Reed knows any names.” –she admits. “But I do know where to find out more about them, though.”

The blonde points out the room, to the New York skyline visible from the room. Kara scowls, instantly recognizing the obsidian monolith in the distance. She’s only just visited, after all.

Lena’s going to have a lot of explaining to do.

Chapter Text

“Let’s review what we know.” –Rogers begins, a holographic representation of their findings filling the briefing room. Stark, Banner, and Kara are present, the rest of the Avengers still incommunicado.

“An organization calling itself ‘Centipede’ coerced a quartet of Enhanced individuals into an attempt to rob a Department of Damage Control vehicle. Why?”

“Alien tech, fresh off the streets.” –Banner suggests.

“What exactly was that truck hauling? Maybe that could give us a better idea of what, precisely, Centipede is after.” –Kara asks.

Tony brings up the cargo manifest. Rogers reads aloud. “Seventy-two blaster rifles, five explosive devices, a single intact speeder, two dozen assorted armored pieces...and two sets of Chitauri soldier remains.”

The billionaire frowns. “One of those things is not like the others.” –he says. “The stiffs shouldn’t have been on that truck.”

Kara grimaces. “Ugh. Please don’t call them that.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine...the fallen enemy combatants should have been loaded into a boat and sent to a secluded, off-shore S.H.I.E.L.D. bio-research lab, not the Triskelion. For all we know, those things wake up and try to finish the mission.”

“Says here there was a logistics issue.” –Rogers reads. “Guess they didn’t fit in the boat.”

“Uh-huh.” –Tony remarks, skeptical. “Still weird. What else we got?”

“Sue mentioned a guy named ‘Victor’ bankrolling the research mission that gave them their powers.” –Kara says.

“I know a few rich Victors.” –Tony says. “But the kind of cash we’re talking – the money needed to develop and build the infrastructure and machinery needed to independently launch a spacecraft? I only know of one with the pockets for it. JARVIS, please bring up Victor von Doom’s profile.”

Kara snorts. “You’re kidding, right? He might as well be called Evil McBadguy.”

“I doubt the King of Latveria cares.” –Tony says, presenting the image of a tall, handsome young man, dark haired and green-eyed. Kara’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “That hilariously inappropriate last name just happens to be the name of the last remaining royal House in Latveria. He wasn’t born into royalty – Victor grew up an orphan in a Romani encampment – but he took up the bloodline’s name once he discovered he was meant for the crown.”

“How do you know him?” –Rogers asks, suspicious.

Tony sneers at him. “It’s not what you think. Latveria might be tiny, and still stuck with a monarchy, but their technological exports are through the roof. They’re top three in robotics alone. Victor’s at the forefront of their tech innovations, and he’s made bank over the last half decade.” –he says. “He...might have also been one of Stark Industries’ under-the-table weapons buyers. Obie sold him a bunch of surplus weapons, which he, in turn, sold to everyone in Eastern Europe who could afford them. I’m persona non grata in, like, Sokovia thanks entirely to him.” –he admits, annoyed.

“Why is he still at large, then?” –Rogers asks, crossing his arms.

“Stane wasn’t entirely stupid. It’s not like they met in a dark alley and made a trade – he sent them over and Latverian customs quite legally secured them during a border inspection. I confronted Victor, armor and all, but everything was above board. Nothing I could do.” –he says, defeated. “Have I mentioned how much I hate Obadiah Stane?”

Kara and Banner share a worried look. “...right.” –Rogers awkwardly mutters. “Any idea why he would finance Mr. Richards’ research?”

“Sue made it sound like he was into the same fringe science as Reed.” –Kara points out.”

Tony snorts. “Whatever else he might be, von Doom is not a crackpot theorist. That man is dangerously intelligent – maybe the most intelligent man in the world. Placing Reed’s team so close to the Bifröst? Not a mistake.”

“Are you saying he purposefully gave them their abilities?”

“I’m saying it’s very, very unlikely any of that was an accident.”

Rogers crosses his arms. “So, we have someone who can, presumably, reliably produce super powered individuals partnered up with an organization that’s...collecting them. An organization that’s also involved with a high tech firm that’s apparently trying do their part by recreating the Super Soldier Serum.”

“How does S.H.I.E.L.D. even miss all this?” –Banner wonders. “They managed to follow my every move, even when I successfully threw up the FBI, the CIA, Interpol...”

“Maybe they didn’t.” –Tony suggests, darkly amused. “They’ve always had a hard-on for superhuman enhancement. Maybe they want to see how this all pans out.”

“Speaking of questionable science, how do we think OsCorp figures into this?” –Kara asks.

Rogers raises an eyebrow. “You tell us, Kara. You talked to Miss Luthor; did she seem like she might be involved with this Centipede business?”

Kara surprises herself by how quickly she shakes her head. “Lena’s...a lot of things, but an unscrupulous scientist is...hard to imagine. I don’t think she’s involved. I don’t think she’d lie to me, not about something so dire.”

“Well, OsCorp is huge. Second only to Stark Industries in terms of diversified interests. It’s entirely possible that a covert cell within could be acting without her knowledge.” –Tony reasons. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt to pay old Normie a visit. If any of the higher-ups know about Centipede, it’ll be him. Crazy bastard couldn’t bear not knowing every little detail about his company.”

“Think he’d even see us? Lena made it seem like his death was imminent.”

Stark snorts. “Us? No. You? If he’s conscious, definitely. He always was a sucker for blondes.

“Ew.” –she says, scrunching up her nose.

Everyone nods, cringing at the thought. “No argument here.” –Tony says. “Still, it might be our best chance to figure out his involvement. IF he’s as messed up as advertised, getting information out of him should be a piece of cake.”

“And if he won’t talk?”

“We storm OsCorp.” –Stark shrugs. “Sue’s story checks out; I had JARVIS analyze the remains of her collar, as well as the devices implanted in the other two. Some of the components are patented OsCorp tech – the kind that you can’t exactly buy off store shelves. This alone is reason enough for law enforcement, S.H.I.E.L.D. especially, to intervene. Or rather, us on behalf of them.”

“Is that really the best idea?” –Rogers asks. “I know I’m playing Devil’s advocate here, but bringing in S.H.I.E.L.D. would legitimize an assault much more than just our word against theirs.”

“Well, one, we know they’re involved in a way that facilitated putting people in deadly risk – both bystanders for their robberies, and the trio we caught with the metaphorical knives at their jugulars. I don’t really care about optics, this is something we have to do anyway.” –he shrugs. “Second...I’m strictly against involving Fury and his goons any more than is strictly necessary.”

“You really don’t trust them at all, do you?” –Rogers asks, disappointed. “I would’ve thought you might care a bit more about Howard and Peggy’s brainchild.”

Stark sours immediately at the mention of his father. “I’m gonna level with you, Rogers; I’m sure you and dad were just the best of pals back in the forties, but the Howard Stark I grew up was an asshole. Drunk half the time, absent the rest – if it wasn’t S.H.I.E.L.D. business, he was chasing down yet another lead on your location. Never gave me the time of day. And sure, I love Aunt Peggy like a second mother, but she always led from the front – which is to say, she missed a lot of the shady, backroom shit S.H.I.E.L.D.’s always been so comfortable with. Things I can’t look past – things I’m surprised you can live with ignoring. If I told you the amount of shady crap JARVIS gathered just by giving the Helicarrier’s databanks a once-over...well, I’d be shocked if you didn’t march up to the Triskelion and started tearing it down brick by brick.”

Kara places a comforting hand on the troubled Captain’s shoulder. “S.H.I.E.L.D. does do some good things, Captain. Great, even! Just look at how quickly they managed to clear up New York.” –Kara says. “It’s just...even my sister wonders how many darker secrets there are under the hood. You can’t have an organization that large and powerful without some things slipping through the cracks.”

“We’re veering a little off-topic, guys.” –Banner reminds them. “Project Centipede now, shady government agencies later.”

Rogers nods, snapping out of his growing frown. “We need to know more about them before we can plan any kind of strike. Kara, you have someone on the inside, right?”

“Spider-Man does. They’re an intern in the bio-science division, I think.” –she says, careful not to tattle on Miss Stacy.

Tony fishes a USB drive out of his blazer, and hands it to her. “Say hello to baby JARVIS – or, rather, a portable subroutine of his that’ll link him to the OsCorp mainframe as soon as it’s plugged into a computer there. It should work a bit better than whatever Spidey tried last time.”

Kara hums. “OsCorp’s gonna be on lockdown after our little...visit. How are they gonna get this on a PC without arousing suspicion?”

“Well, do you have a better idea?” –Tony asks.

She purses her lips. “I think...I think I’d like to give this to Lena. She owes me, and it’ll be a lot less dangerous for her than for a teenager.”

Rogers and Stark share a small, unspoken conversation. “If you think you can trust her with this, then go for it. We trust you, Kara.” –Rogers says.

“Besides, if she screws us over, we’ll know for sure we need to take her down.” –Stark cheerfully adds.

“...right.” –Kara says, utterly unconvincing.

The Captain waves the data away. “We’ll wait on you, then. Dismissed.”

Banner and Rogers file out of the room, but Tony turns back at the door. “Having second thoughts already, huh?” –he asks, leaning on the metallic frame.

Kara purses her lips, examining the portable drive. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you keep blushing every time Lena Luthor’s name comes up. I’m guessing you’re a bit more hesitant to meet her again than you’re letting on.”

“Maybe so.” –she manages. “It’s...complicated.”

“You and Luthor had a thing, didn’t you?” –he asks, amused.

Kara blushes furiously, to which Tony gives a cheeky grin. “I saw her name in your file, right before your suddenly and inexplicably truncated college education.”

“I...we...I thought we had something.” –she admits. “Everyone did. Winn was so sick of us, y’know? He couldn’t stand the non-stop flirting. My own sister kept suggesting we get a room. Clearly, I’m not as good at understanding human relationships as I thought I was, though. I gathered up the courage to tell her everything; who I really was, what I really was, and how I felt about her, but...well, let’s just say she did not take my confession very well.”

Stark winces. “Oof. That’s rough. Checks out with her upbringing, though. Sounds like she liked you back, but probably wasn’t emotionally equipped to deal with her own feelings after so many years of hearing the hateful crap her step-dad spews every day.”

Kara blinks. “That’s...very specific.”

“You’re talking to someone whose father spent the sixties inventing new and exciting ways to repress people – my old man might not have been racist, but heaven forbid you were a ‘pansy’, as he’d call them. Us.”

“You too, huh?”

“Mm-hmm. Let’s just say, I fit Howard’s definition to a ‘t’.”

Kara gives him a sad smile. “Believe me, I get it. It hurt like hell, but I understand why she reacted the way she did. Working for Jameson a single year was...awful. I can’t even imagine sharing a roof with him since childhood.”

“The guy can’t talk about liberals without popping multiple blood vessels. I’m guessing lesbian crushes were a big no-no in casa de Jonah.”

Kara huffs. “I’ve never understood that. Not when you don’t have any of the...restrictions Krypton had. Our bonds were pre-arranged from birth, according to social echelon and genetic potential.  I never had a say on who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I was slated to marry some Daxamite, just because he was my best genetic match. Can you believe that?” –she says, frustrated at the very memory of the assignment ceremony. Tony gives her a somewhat confused look, which she ignores. “You humans have no such obligations, and still you can’t bring yourselves to look past prejudice.”

“You’re right, Kara.” –he says. “It sucks, and we’re slow to change. But things are getting better. What’s more, we’re in a pretty good position to help that kind of change along.”

“You really think so?”

“Hell yeah. Shit, out of all of us, I’m pretty sure Banner’s the only one who’s actually straight. And that’s counting the Hulk.” –he jokes. “The Avengers could do some serious PR work to counter the hateful message of people like Jameson. And not just LGBT stuff; there’s tons of causes out there we could get on board with.”

Tony’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “Holy shit, I know exactly what your day job should be.” –he breathes out.

Kara giggles at his excitement. “My day job, huh? What’s that?”

“You’re fun, down to Earth, and most importantly, young enough to understand what the hell a ‘Vine’ is!” –he says, amused. “How’d you like to be the Avengers’ social media manager?”

Chapter Text

“I have a job again!” –Kara announces as soon as Peter steps into view, already halfway into the suit he keeps in his backpack.

“You mean besides being one of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?” –he asks, amused. “What’s the job?”

Kara smirks. “I am now the Avengers’ social media manager.” –she proudly states, floating down to show him her phone.

Peter shimmies the rest of his torso into what appears to be an extremely loose-fitting suit; before Kara can do more than raise an eyebrow, he taps the spider symbol on his chest, and the cloth immediately contracts. Like before, the costume fits perfectly.

“Should I even be looking at this without a mask?” –he asks, dubious, reaching into his bag for that same object.

“Don’t worry, Tony made sure this phone couldn’t be tapped into. You should be safe from bored NSA agents.” –she waves his worries away. “Look at what I’ve got so far.”

Peter slips on the mask and scrolls through the various apps. Kara’s only made a few posts, but they’re already incredibly popular, as a behind-the-scenes look at the lives of real life superheroes is wont to be. “Nice. How’d you manage to get your hands on the ‘Avengers’ handle on every major social media platform?”

“I asked JARVIS to get them for me.” –she shrugs. “I tried to ask nicely, but most of them wouldn’t do it.”

“So you just sicced an all-powerful artificial intelligence on them, huh? Cool.”

Kara snorts. “Weird. I could’ve sworn Rogers shook his head, put his knuckles to his hips, and called it ‘cyber-bullying’.”

Spider-Man chuckles. “So, you ready to patrol the shit out of New York?”

Kara smirks. “Are you always so pumped about the prospect of facing dangerous criminals and missing out on half of your recommended sleep hours?”

“Obviously.”

“Then yes, Spider-Man. Let’s do this.”

Patrolling the streets of New York together feels like something straight out of a huge comic book crossover. Fun banter and what will surely make for some iconic photographs come tomorrow, for the most part, but catching – and, if she’s honest, terrorizing – criminals is surprisingly entertaining.

Exhibit one: a mugger who’s cornered a rather bored looking middle-aged man.

Kara lands behind him, tapping the man’s shoulder, and grabs the knife as he blindly attempts to stab her. The blade, of course, bends and snaps between her fingers, making the man pale as she drops the broken weapon. Then, Spidey lands beside her, binds his hands together, and bows like he’s served a particularly delicious dish.

She smiles, and tells the now mildly amused victim he’s free to go. The man mutters his thanks, and walks away.

After hauling the would-be robber to the nearest police precinct – by herself, as Spider-Man is still, of course, considered a criminal through the power of vigilantism – she takes to the skies again, where she quickly meets back up with the web-slinger.

“Do you ever think about losing the mask?” –Kara asks, carefully biting into a burrito she charmed the attendant at Chipotle into overstuffing.

Peter generously applies some extra salsa verde onto his beef fajita taco. “Sometimes, I guess. It’s not like I can, I’d be next to useless in a fight without the ability to tune things out with the lenses, but...well, people are a bit slower to trust someone they can’t look in the eye.”

Kara hums, thoughtfully. “I talked to the Captain about the fight with the Chitauri just the other day. He said nobody would listen to him at first – they thought he was just some nut job in a costume, y’know?” –she says, her boot-clad feet dangling off the steel beam they chose to sit on. “Only when he took the helmet off did people really listen.”

“Cap’s a celebrity, though.” –he points out. “There’s no confusing that face.”

“True enough.” –she admits. “Makes him easier to evade, huh Peter?”

He – well, the lower half of his face – blushes. “You, uh...know about that, huh?”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s not mad. Just disappointed.” –she says, cheekily.

Parker sighs. “I’ve only been at this for a few months.” –he says. “The worst I’ve had to deal with was an attempted murderer I caught in the act.” –he says, then points to his ribs. “I got shanked three times before I could even snap out of the shock.”

“Yikes, Peter.”

“I healed in like, half an hour. Don’t worry.” –he says, clearly attempting to downplay the horror of his injuries. Kara, of course, continues to worry. “The point is, things had been kind of slow until aliens dropped from the sky. And it’s not like I don’t look at Iron Man and go: ‘man, I wish I could be that awesome one day’. It’s just...suddenly I have a team of secret agents looking for me twenty-four-seven, and an actual superhero wants to talk me into joining his team. I guess I just...didn’t know how to deal with that. I still don’t.”

Kara nurses the last couple of bites of her burrito. “Y’know, I think you might just be putting the whole concept of superheroes on a pedestal, Peter. I mean, think about it: by definition, being a superhero is just...performing heroic feats with the aid of powers or abilities that most people simply don’t have. You do all that already, don’t you?”

He shrugs, bashful. “Wouldn’t everyone?”

She shakes her head, resolute. “No. No, Peter, not everyone would do what you and I do in our place. There’s plenty of evidence; Obadiah Stane had an arguably more powerful suit than Tony did, two years ago. Did he even attempt to use it to help people? No. He killed half a dozen people and injured a whole lot more, just trying to get to Tony.”

“Ivan Vanko was every bit as intelligent as Tony was, and even managed to prove himself smarter in some ways. Did he use his intellect to help his fellow man? No. He almost assassinated Tony in the middle of Monaco, and caused the deaths of dozens at the Expo.”

Peter visibly shrinks – Kara curses herself, remembering, all too late, that Peter’s own parents perished in the crossfire, but she doesn’t stop.

“What about way back when? Johann Schmidt basically had the same powers Captain Rogers does. He could’ve helped end a World War. Did he, even for one second, think of anyone but himself? No! He created HYDRA, which was too much for freakin’ Hitler!” –she says, throwing her hands up.

“Alright, I get it, Kara! People suck.” –he says, dejected.

“People can suck.” –she allows. “But most don’t. There’s so many more good people than bad. And then there’s people like you – people burdened with such power, the kind that could make you rich, or deadly, or both, and yet, you choose to use it to help. You could be breaking into bank vaults with that strength of yours, but instead, you spend your nights bringing criminals to justice.”

He smirks. “Don’t be giving me ideas, alright? I’m broke.”

Kara smiles. “The point is, no. Not everyone would do what you do with your powers. The fact that you do is, to me, all it takes. You’re a hero, buddy.”

Peter munches quietly on the last of his food for quite a while. “...that was a hell of a pep talk, Kara.”

“...oh, thank Rao.” –she breathes out.

“What for?”

“I thought I messed up, you were so quiet!”

“Well, you gave me a lot to think about! Plus, I’m really hungry.”

She chuckles. “You know, Avengers Tower has this amazing fully stocked kitchen...”

He groans. “Geez. You too, huh?”

“Just putting it out there. Cap may or may not have asked me to.” –she says, apologetic.

“...baby steps, Kara. Lemme sleep on it. Now, are you going to eat that second burrito?”

She clutches the tinfoil bundle possessively. “Of course I am, who do you take me for? Hand over the salsa, Parker.”

Unfortunately, the fun of the night can’t last; reality catches up to them just as the clock strikes eleven,  a bloodcurdling scream drawing their attention to the heart of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Crap.” –Peter says, fingertips sticking to a brownstone. “That sounds awful.”

“Where did it come from?” –Kara asks, trying to gain some height in order to spot the ongoing crime.

They try to listen for the source again, but neither one can pinpoint it. Peter curses under his breath. “Keep a lookout for a man in a red outfit and cowl. This is Daredevil’s turf, and he’s got much better hearing than I do. He might lead us there.”

Kara frowns. “Daredevil?”

“Yeah, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.” –Spidey says, swinging in a search pattern. “You haven’t heard about him? You’ve heard about me, and I’m the newbie.”

“Sounds familiar, but maybe I haven’t. You know him?”

“Yeah. There’s something of a...vigilante underworld in New York. I’ve helped him out a couple times – not that he appreciates it much, but he hasn’t kicked me to the curb so far.”

Shouts – male, this time – interrupt them, a lot closer than the previous ones. They dive towards the source, only to find a grim, ongoing scene when they close in on the alley the sounds came from.

Kara immediately identifies two figures – one, a burly-looking man currently being beaten to death, and another, a person in red and black body armor wearing a horned cowl, brutally delivering a flurry of blows to the clearly unconscious man beneath him. Kara’s seen plenty of bodies in her time – shot to death by particle blasts on Krypton, burned alive by Chitauri plasma weaponry, crushed by falling debris – but she’s never seen anything quite like this – the man’s face looks like raw steak – blood, teeth, and spittle flying every which way as the brutal vigilante continues his assault. She doesn’t even stop to think of why Daredevil might be doing this, instead charging in and sending the vigilante flying as her shoulder makes contact with the man’s side.

Much to her surprise, Daredevil rises like he hasn’t just been hit by the equivalent of a small car running him over, and throws some kind of baton at her, pulled from a holster strapped to his right leg. Kara doesn’t even move, the blunt instrument harmlessly bouncing off her forehead, and back towards the vigilante, who expertly catches the thrown weapon. Kara stands defensively over the beaten thug, and weathers the rather ineffectual assault Daredevil delivers. He grits and bares his teeth, framed in a scruffy-looking beard, as his frustration builds, the blows that would easily down any normal person not even fazing the Kryptonian. Supergirl grabs onto the neckline of his body armor, and raises him even as the vigilante attempts to push and kick her away.

There’s a very brief moment of satisfaction for her, seeing just how powerless Daredevil is to stop her, before the vigilante is yanked out of her grip by Spider-Man’s webbing. “What are you...?” –she asks, confused.

“Kara, the woman.” –the teenager quietly notes, pointing a little further into the alleyway. Kara’s blood runs cold; a red-headed, pale young woman lies, prone on the ground, unmoving.

Kara forgets all about her duel with the Daredevil and the man beaten to a pulp, rushing towards the woman. Kneeling down beside her, she’s relieved to see that she still breathes, though her worry doesn’t go anywhere; far from it, since there’s a sizable cut on her forehead, bleeding like crazy, and her top’s been practically ripped off. She unclasps the cape from her shoulders, and gingerly envelops the woman with it.

Peter lands beside her, tension obvious throughout his lithe frame. “Daredevil says he knows a place we can take her.” –he mutters, a hard edge to his normally cheerful voice.

Kara nods, lifting the unconscious woman. “Where to?”

“Follow me.” –a surprisingly civil man’s voice says. Kara turns, finding the masked vigilante standing behind her. She stares into the red lenses covering the Devil’s eyes, trying her best to ignore the blood spray covering most of his face, gauging how much she can trust such a brutal man. His outfit tells a rather dark tale, filled with mended tears and what can only have been bullet holes. His knuckles are literally dripping with crimson, but something about the way his lips tremble at the sight of the unconscious woman ultimately convinces her to trust the man.

Kara hesitantly nods, then gasps as the man vaults his way to a nearby fire escape, quickly making it to the roof. The two heroes spare a glance for the beaten thug – barely alive, for the moment – and follow the vigilante.

Chapter Text

Daredevil leads them to a rather nice loft, where a dark skinned woman clad in a nurse’s uniform awaits them. “Set her on the bed.” –she immediately orders, sparing no time for pleasantries.

Kara does as she’s asked, gently laying down the barely conscious woman on the strangely lush silk sheets the Devil apparently prefers. The nurse basically shoves her out of the way – how she could even move a Kryptonian, Kara has no idea – and begins going through the motions of first aid.

A few minutes pass in tense silence, the vigilantes respectfully staying outside the room. Kara helpfully supplies the unnamed nurse with antiseptic, gauze, and tape, as requested. She absently notes that the first aid kit is way too well stocked to be anyone else’s but Daredevil’s. This is definitely the vigilante’s home.

The woman sits, visibly exhausted. “Well, she’s lucky. Daredevil must’ve gotten to her in time; the bastard didn’t have time to do much more than shove her against a wall. Just a couple of minor scratches and bruises. No sign of a concussion – must’ve passed out from the shock.” –she declares, handing Kara her bloodied cape.

She stares at the stained garment for a second before folding it up. “Is she going to be alright?”

“Aside from the trauma of being the victim of an attempted assault, you mean?” –she asks, caustic. “Sure.”

Kara winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to belittle what happened.” –she says. “I only meant to figure out if she needed to be taken to an actual hospital.”

The nurse sighs. “I know what you meant, Supergirl. It’s just...this hits a little close to home.” –she mutters, absently scratching at a faded scar on her cheek. “We’ll know better once she wakes up, but she doesn’t show signs of anything more serious.”

Kara nods, relieved. “Thank you, miss...?”

“Temple. Claire Temple. I’d...offer to look you over, but I’m pretty sure you’re indestructible.” –she says, mildly amused.

“So far, at least. Thanks for coming so quickly.”

Nurse Temple hums. “Yeah, well. I might not have signed up for nursing vigilantes – and vigilante-adjacent people – back to health, but I do keep coming back.” –she admits.

Kara laughs, softly. “I’m new to this, but...they do seem to be magnets for trouble. How’d you meet Daredevil?”

Claire scoffs. “Found him in a dumpster one night, bleeding out and moaning in pain.”

“Yikes.”

“What? You’d be surprised at how many vigilantes you can find in dumpsters these days. I swear, New York is full of them.”

“That is not what the ‘yikes’ was for.”

Claire snorts. “Right. I guess I have gotten a little too accustomed to the usual grievous wounds and abundant bleeding that comes with the territory.”

Kara scowls. “Is it really that bad?”

“Honey, the vast majority of us bleed. Vigilantes just tend to spring leaks more often than most.”

“No, I know. It’s just...such a jarringly different experience from fighting with the Avengers, or even by myself.” –she admits. “I’ve...never seen violence this harsh up close before, and that’s me saying it after fighting off an alien invasion.”

Claire looks at her patient. “It’d be hard to, from all the way up in that Tower of yours. Things tend to look a lot shittier down here, at street level.”

Kara hums. “No point in denying that. I guess we’ve been so focused on these...larger than life threats, that we’ve ignored the terrible things that happen on a daily basis.”

Claire sighs. “As much as I wish I could lay the blame on any one thing, it’s never that simple. You’re not like Daredevil. You’re not even like Luke Cage.” –she says. “You’re this...goddess walking the Earth – and sure, you’d probably be able to take down the Irish and the Triads in three seconds flat, but what happens next? What happens when someone worse fills in the vacuum, looking to challenge you? Things have already escalated since the vigilantes started operating; I’m not sure it’s the best idea to throw in the Avengers into the mix.”

“Maybe not.” –Kara says. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t find other ways to help. We don’t have to throw the Hulk at the mob in order to be of use; we have data, contacts with S.H.I.E.L.D., resources that could help the vigilantes take down criminals more effectively, more efficiently.”

Claire narrows her eyes. “You’re...strangely adamant about this.”

Kara stares at the sleeping redhead on the bed, and thinks of the invisible woman back at the Tower. “These last few days have been...eye opening, to say the least. Ever since I came to Earth and realized I could do all these incredible things, I wanted to use them to help people.”

“Why didn’t you?”

She sits on the floor. “Fear, at first. I thought people would be afraid of what I can do. I thought they’d see me and think of me as the other – as an invader, a danger to humanity.”

“You’re blonde and gorgeous, Kara.” –Claire retorts, sarcastic.

She blushes. “I...thanks. But I can also fly, and shoot lasers out of my eyes. I’m a walking, talking weapon of mass destruction, as S.H.I.E.L.D. just loved to remind me all the time. They’d tell me things weren’t so bad that my powers were really worth the risk.” –she says, sad. “Clearly, that’s not the case.”

“I suppose an alien invasion is a good excuse to finally take the plunge.”

Kara looks down at the symbol on her chest. “It’s not just that. I think I’ve finally realized that I can’t control what people think of me, and that that’s ok. I’ve been hated and feared for being weird – for being stronger than any man, for coming from another planet, for refusing to conform to humanity’s silly, backwards notions of gender and relationships. I’ve already experienced all the negatives of being different; might as well make something out of the positives, right?”

Claire hums. “You say that now, but in becoming an Avenger, you’re not just facing the few bigots you’ve met along the way; you’re exposing yourself to the court of public opinion, Supergirl, and believe me, as a friend to one of New York’s most infamous vigilantes, you haven’t experienced the worst people have to offer yet.”

“True.” –she says. “But I have to believe that people will come to see me as someone worth placing their trust in. Maybe I haven’t seen the worst of humanity yet, but I’ve certainly seen some of the best – people willing to risk their lives to help and protect their fellow man. The least I can do is try and follow their example.”

“A lot of people aren’t gonna see it that way.” –Claire warns her. “The Bugle has already run two hit pieces on you, and while I might not care that you came from outer space, my neighbor sure as hell does. Crazy old bastard thinks you’ll turn and roast us with your laser eyes any day, now.”

Kara winces. “I’m sorry they think that way.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be proactive. You’re gonna have to show them that you’re more than just that.” –she says, pointing at the symbol of her House. “That drive you just showed me is a good, running start, but it’s still just words. You need to start thinking ahead.”

“I’m listening...”

“You know why I keep answering the Devil’s calls? It’s not because he punches criminals into a pulp every night. He gave the same kind of self-sacrificial spiel you just did back in the day – how he had these abilities, this purpose, this crusade of his. He just had to do something.” –she recalls, rolling her eyes in a way that suggests she’s heard some variation of it more than just a couple times. “Mind you, he was bleeding out as he told me these things. He had the conviction, but that can only get you so far; crime rates didn’t even really take a dent those first few months.”

“He kept at it, and every time he was on the brink of death, he’d come to me. And every time, I got to experience the terrible privilege of putting this broken man back together – until I said enough. I told him I wouldn’t patch him up again, until he started thinking things through – started picking his battles, instead of charging in with no other plan that ‘punch some bad guys’.” –she says. “I didn’t take him in again until he figured out that crime isn’t always stopped by a pair of fists – and that, even when it is, you have to figure out where and how hard to hit. You can’t cure a disease if you only address the symptoms; you have to root out the causes and take on those, as well.”

Kara cups her chin, deep in thought. “I see.”

Claire shrugs. “Change needs to happen either way. Taking on the people at the top might be riskier, but also a hell of a lot more effective.”

Supergirl smirks. “Aunt Astra would’ve liked you.”

“I’m...hoping that’s a compliment.”

She rubs the back of her neck. “Well, she was kind of an eco-terrorist, and she did kinda help the collapse of Kryptonian society along...but looking back on it, things were getting extra fascistic, so maybe she wasn’t all that bad.”

Claire blinks. “...I think I’ve been called worse.”

The door opens behind Kara, and in walks Peter, his face bare but his eyes covered so as to not see anything he isn’t meant to. He needn’t have worried; Karen is under the covers, sound asleep – and bandaged up, anyways. “Hey Kara, Matt wanted to talk to you.”

Kara frowns. “Who’s Matt?”

Claire snorts as Peter cringes. “The Devil of Poorly Concealed Secret Identities, apparently.”

The blonde giggles. “Rao, we really are terrible at this.”

“Matt Murdock, attorney at law.” –the newly unmasked and topless man says, offering a bruised and scarred hand.

“Kara Danvers.” –she says, shaking it, trying her best not to stare too much at the dozens of scars peppering his torso, both old and recent – most of which, not that she’s any expert in human anatomy, looking quite life-threatening. Murdock has a fairly slender, well-toned build, kinda like the adult version of Peter – which tells her they move and fight in fairly similar ways – and his hair is brown, with a hint of red appearing when the light hits it just right. His eyes are odd; alert, but seemingly unfocused. He’s staring at her, but doesn’t seem to really see her – she considers that the man might be visually impaired, but dismisses the notion as unlikely. She’s seen his insane acrobatics, after all.

“That’s a heck of a grip.” –he notes. “Seems the things I’ve heard about you are true.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Like what?”

He tilts his head. “Well, there’s the strength, the impervious skin, the flying...people call you the Girl of Steel, don’t they?”

“Not to my face. It’s, y’know, advertising.” –she says, chagrined. “Which, really, is kind of underwhelming. It’s not remotely hard for me to bend steel.”

Matt snorts, turning to Peter. “You were right, Peter. Everything she says does sound like a humble brag.”

Kara gasps, crossing her arms. “Peter! And here I thought we were cool, man.”

He lifts his hands in a placating manner. “Listen, in my defense, you literally spent ten minutes ranting about human cutlery during our snack break.”

“Sometimes I forget and chew right through forks! It’s a genuine problem!”

“Maybe you could ask Mr. Stark to make you a fork out of the metal Captain America’s shield is made from.” –he suggests, barely able to suppress his laughter.

Kara huffs. “You laugh, but you have no idea how much silverware I’ve gone through.”

Murdock clears his throat, slipping on a black compression shirt. “As...amusing as this is, we really do have a lot to discuss. Please, sit.”

She purses her lips, then takes her place on the couch. Murdock walks over to his fridge and brings over a couple of beers, as well as a tiny grape juice box for Peter. Kara grabs the offered beverage and carefully – so as to not shatter the bottle – pops off the cap. Peter rolls his eyes – muttering something about not being a child under his breath – but eagerly takes the juice box, making both the adults in the room snicker to themselves.

“Am I gonna have to give you a piggyback ride later?” –Peter asks. “You really shouldn’t drink and fly.”

Kara shakes her head. “Alcohol doesn’t do anything for me. I just like beer.”

“The beer is alcohol-free, in any case.” –Matt shrugs. “I couldn’t exactly do my job under the influence.” –he says, then turns to Kara. “I want to make something very clear, Miss Danvers: everything I’ve heard about you makes me thing that I shouldn’t trust you. Not with my address, not with my friends, and certainly not with my identity.”

“...oh.” –Kara blinks.

Matt crosses his arms. “You’re loud, powerful beyond belief, potentially catastrophic in terms of collateral damage. As vigilantes, we can’t afford to put that kind of spotlight on ourselves – we fight in the shadows, in the alleyways, in the dirty nooks and crannies of society – where the laws don’t reach, and the worst criminals feel comfortable.”

“However,” –he continues, before Kara can feel too bad about herself, “my experience with Mr. Parker here has taught me that great power is not, in itself, an obstacle for taking on the responsibilities of fighting crime – but that the two, instead, can and should go hand in hand. You’ve shown both the willingness and ability to contain your boundless strength. So, I’m trusting Peter’s judgement, and in turn, trusting that you, and the rest of the Avengers, can keep it that way, down here in the streets. If I’ve learned anything in the years since I started all of this, it’s that New York needs every pair of hands it can get. I can’t be too proud to reject the help.”

Kara nods. “Agreed. We’ll work things out, I promise.”

He tips his beer towards her. “Good to hear. Secondly, I wanted to thank you for your help, just now.”

She winces. “I’m sorry I tackled you. I should’ve realized things were more complicated than they looked like.”

Murdock shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You snapped me out of something...dark. Probably saved that man’s life.” –he admits. “I usually have much better control than I demonstrated back there, but...well, Karen is a friend. And it’s my fault that she was in harm’s way tonight. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Kara scowls, trying not to think too much about just how close this man got to becoming a murderer. “This wasn’t a random attack, then?”

“Not at all.” –he says, guiltily. “Karen Page – the woman we rescued tonight – is a reporter for the New York Bulletin, but even before that, she helped me uncover Union Allied Construction’s true purpose in laundering money for the Russian mob, Yakuza, the Triads, and the Kingpin of Crime himself, Wilson Fisk.”

Kara vaguely remembers the scandal – it shook the city of New York to its core, but that was a years ago, probably around the time she was leaving for college. “Right, heard about that.”

“We recently came across information, potentially linked to that old scandal, that I asked her to dig deeper into – information that’s made her a target, leading to tonight’s unfortunate events.”

“Do you know who attacked her?”

“The hitman, we don’t know. But the hit itself was likely ordered by one member or another of a whole cabal of men and women with a lot of power and influence in this city and beyond.”

She hums, then looks at Peter. “Do you think this could be related to what Gwen found?”

“We, uh...already know it is, Kara.” –he replies, wincing with guilt clearly written on his face.

Kara frowns, but Matt beats her to the punch. “I was skeptical, at first.” –he confesses. “It seems simple enough – a cut and dry case of systemic corruption at first glance, buying out judges, politicians, and the police force, purchasing every inch of land available in New York...whatever helps them accrue power and wealth. Influence. Like Fisk and his cronies before them, I thought they were simply trying to get rich by peddling drugs unhindered by the criminal justice system, but this conspiracy goes much deeper than that.”

“I know this is gonna sound like we’re talking about the Illuminati or something like that.” –Peter says. “But we think that’s exactly what’s going on here – people in power trying to take control of the world behind the scenes.”

Kara blinks. “So who are they, then? Do you have any names? Any evidence we can act on?”

“Not in so many words – and certainly not something that would hold up in a court of law.” –Murdock admits. “We’ve been unable to figure just who’s at the top, but we do know the identities of some of the players vying to get with them, as well as a rough understanding of their overall plan.”

“Ok, let’s stop playing the pronoun game. Just who are we talking about.”

“They’re major corporations, Kara.” –Peter says. “Picture it this way; there’s this...council at the top – whoever’s on it gets to rule the world whenever their evil plan happens – and they have spots open for new members. If you wanna get in, you’ve gotta audition – bring something, be it robotics, genetic engineering, weaponry, defense systems – to the table. Anything that’s help strengthen the overall group. It’s like...a talent show of evil. Or a science fair of doom.”

“Take Roxxon Energy, for example – supposedly a simple, innocent oil conglomerate, but it has its fingers in some very odd pies. They’ve invested in something called xeno-genetics, which I didn’t even know was a scientific field of study – I mean, aliens have only officially been a thing since Thor landed in New Mexico.”

Matt nods. “Hammer Industries was a major player, too, before Justin Hammer went and got the Stark Expo destroyed, which may or may not have gotten them kicked out of the game.”

“Then there’s obviously our mutual friends at OsCorp, which have a huge stake in bleeding edge bioengineering.” –Peter says.

Kara crosses her arms. “So...OsCorp’s efforts in recreating the Serum that gave Captain Rogers his powers are their attempt at filling in that vacancy?”

“Precisely.” –Matt says.

“How the heck did you figure this whole thing out?” –Kara asks, baffled. “You and Gwen kinda made it seem like you were barely starting to put two and two together.”

Peter rubs the back of his head. “Yeah...sorry, about that. We, uh...didn’t know how much we could trust you with. But hey, you’re getting the whole enchilada now, right?”

Matt spares a wry smile for the awkward teenager. “Miss Stacy accidentally received an e-mail with some rather inconvenient information: a collection of unlisted projects, locations, and updates for off-the-books research projects some branch of OsCorp or another has undertaken. They’re linked to small, local companies – the kind of enterprise Union Allied seemed to be, at first glance, before you dug deeper and figured out they were part of a truly enormous multinational network of companies built entirely to muddy the waters and obfuscate any kind of paper trail, mostly spawned or bought within the last forty or fifty years.” –Murdock explains. “It’s an extremely similar M.O. to Fisk’s and why I was convinced to help Peter and Miss Stacy figure things out.”

“You wanna know the weirdest part?” –Peter asks. “It’s because of you guys that we even got the chance to start making those connections.” –he claims.

Kara raises an eyebrow. “How so?”

“The Avengers have this cabal scared.” –Matt says, smirking in an unsettlingly predatory manner. “They’re getting sloppy, trying to rush things – because suddenly, it’s not just Iron Man, or a few vigilantes making things difficult at street level. Out of the blue, there’s this powerful group of heroes protecting people – individuals who pose a major threat to their long term designs. I have a hacktivist friend digging into their communications, and though she’s been unable to give us names to go after, it’s become clear that the people at the top are in a panic, their formerly comfortable clandestine operations now at risk of becoming your targets.”

Kara rubs her chin for a moment. “We recently captured some Enhanced individuals trying to steal Chitauri equipment and remains. They were being controlled via explosive collars, presumably sent to test our might, so to speak.”

“They must’ve been...sacrifices, of sorts. Throwing superpowered people at you, trying to figure out how the Avengers are going to change the status quo. They’ve never had to worry about anything other than their mutual rivalries – it stands to reasons that they would assess what kind of threat you pose, even if it meant potentially losing some of their assets.”

Kara shakes her head in disgust. “So, what’s the plan?”

“We need to expose them.” –Matt says, resolute. “The only reason they’ve grown so powerful is because no one knew to look for them, let alone stop them.”

“But we need proof.” –Peter says. “We have enough to make OsCorp uncomfortable, and a few locations we can maybe link to some of the other players, but we need something irrefutable.”

Kara taps her chin. “Well, I’m due for a trip to OsCorp soon. Plus, we’re thinking about paying Norman Osborn a visit, too. I’ll try to get something we can work with.”

Matt looks dubious. “Will your teammates take to it with as much gusto as you? I imagine it’ll be uncomfortable for them to work alongside us lowly vigilantes.”

The Supergirl snorts. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Murdock; what you do is dangerous, rough, and much more morally dubious than I’m willing to really ponder for too long, but at the end of the day, we’re all fighting for the same thing. The methods, the motivations – those may be different, but we all want peace and justice. If you’re willing to put up with Rogers’ lectures, Stark throwing technology at you, and getting uncomfortably close to public scrutiny, breaking a few laws – and apparently, a few jaws – in the name of justice is something I can look past.”

The Devil grimaces. “Public scrutiny isn’t something any of us are comfortable with.”

Peter elbows him. “Hey, I know we’ve all got a lot to lose if we’re found out, but...don’t we have just as much risk going on by fighting on our own? Think about how much faster you could clean up the Kitchen if you had actual intelligence instead of just hearsay and confessions you beat out of people.”

“Peter, you’ve been the biggest proponent for secret identities out of all of us until now – even more than me, and that’s saying something. Why the change of heart?”

Peter blushes, briefly glancing at Kara. “I had a good pep talk.” –he says. “Look, the point is, there wasn’t anything like the Avengers when we started. We’ve all been getting by, sometimes not so well, helping each other when we could and hoping for the best when we couldn’t.”

“We’ve never wanted to be a team.” –Matt counters.

“Maybe not, but just think of how much pain we could’ve avoided if we’d just worked together.” –Peter argues. “If you’d had Luke by your side when taking on Nobu, or Jess keeping an eye on Claire so the Russians wouldn’t have kidnapped her.” –he says, Matt’s expression taking on a haunted look. “We don’t always have to go it alone.”

Murdock stays silent, deep in thought. “If it helps at all, S.H.I.E.L.D. probably knows who all of you are under the masks. All Enhanced individuals are recorded in their Index. Unless you’re underaged, like the Spiderling here, they’ve got your name, age, address, power set...pretty much everything.”

The lawyer tenses up. “If that’s true, then how come they haven’t tried to stop us? Good intentions aside, we are breaking the law.”

“From my experience, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t as interested in following the law as it is in keeping the peace. They must think you’re doing a good job.” –she says. “In any case, there’s no need to be hasty. We’ll cooperate, but working more closely with the Avengers...it’s not an easy choice to make, I get it. We can discuss making you guys matching costumes later – right now, we need to focus on figuring out this plot instead.”

Murdock nods. “It’s appreciated. Some of the others will...take some convincing, but I’ll worry about them. I can at least guarantee we’ll fight alongside you, if it comes to that.”

“When it comes to that.” –Kara corrects. “People in power...they do their best to hold onto it. You can bet they’re not gonna go down easy.”

“Agreed.”

She rises, casting one last look at the room where Karen sleeps under Claire’s watchful eye. “I should go. Keep me in the loop, alright? I’ll talk to the others about this, see what they think.”

“Of course.”

“Will Karen stay here? I can take her to the Tower, if you’d prefer. Rao knows we’ve got the room to spare.”

Matt shakes his head. “She’s safe here. Thank you.”

Kara hums. “Alright.” –she says, starting to float towards the rooftop access. “Oh, where do I put this?” –she asks, holding the empty beer bottle up.

“In the bin, by my cane.” –he says, amused, pointing at the kitchen behind him.

Supergirl blinks, looking past him. Indeed, beside the fridge, there’s a trash bin beside a folded-up walking stick. Both vigilantes snicker as she puts two and two together – the cane, the unfocused gaze, the blindingly bright neon sign across the street. “Rao’s gaze, you’re blind!?”

Chapter Text

Kara is a fairly light sleeper – always has been, even on Krypton, but her enhanced physiology on Earth has made her need for sleep nearly negligible. She still does it – who doesn’t enjoy a nice nap? – but her superhuman hearing and the occasional nightmare make her sleep choppy, at best.

That’s how she wakes up knowing she’s not alone in her room.

“Jesus, really?” –a woman mutters, much too close for comfort. “This is...legitimately upsetting.”

Kara frowns, reaching for her glasses. “Who are you?” –she asks, rising as she tries to blink the sleep out of her eyes.

The figure sits at the couch beside her bed, the one Winn slept at their first night in the Tower. “World’s greatest assassin.” –she says, sarcastic. “Though since you and Rogers showed up, my stealth skills seem to be...lacking.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Are you...here to kill me?”

The woman leans forward. “You don’t sound all that worried.” –she notes.

“Well, I’m...me.” –Kara shrugs, awkwardly. “Y’know, Supergirl?”

“So I’ve heard.” –the woman says. “So, can you die? Is there anything I could do that’d even leave a mark?”

Kara scowls. “I’m not immortal.” –she says, darkly. Even one was too many, but Kara’s seen too many dead Kryptonians to even pretend to consider whether her Sol-given powers have changed that. “But I won’t be dying today.”

Fast as lightning, Kara propels herself out of bed, grabbing the intruder – whose reaction time is admirable, if insufficient – by the neckline of her outfit. JARVIS automatically turns every light in the room on, finally giving Kara a good look at her guest. She’s a bombshell of a svelte, short woman, red-haired and green-eyed – and, undoubtedly, one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen. She’s clad in a skin-tight, black leather catsuit, a red hourglass symbol adorning her abdomen. Even without the use of her x-ray vision, Kara can make out several pistols, knives, and ammo cartridges, as well as the signature, electrified forearm bracers of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most lethal asset.

“Temper, temper, Supergirl.” –the Black Widow teases, nonplussed. “Natasha Romanoff. Pleasure to meet you.”

Kara gives her a withering look as she gently sets her down, floating down to sit on her bed. “Is this what Alex meant when she told me you had a problem with personal boundaries?”

“Oh, your sister was far too welcoming to mean that.” –she says, a none-too-innocent smirk forming.

Kara wrinkles her nose. “Gross.”

Romanoff snort-laughs – kind of cute, if not for the fact that Kara is keenly aware of the kind of tally the Russian femme fatale is responsible for. “Relax, I’m joking. Your sister is far too stuck up for my tastes, anyway.”

Kara crosses her arms, miffed. “Why are you here?”

“Well, since you guys seem to actually be serious about this Avengers business, Clint and I figured we’d come in and check things out for ourselves. See what all the fuss is about.”

“I mean in my room, Romanoff. You couldn’t wait in the common room? It’s not like I ever sleep in.”

She smirks. “Please, call me Nat. And...I suppose I was curious. I like to push people’s buttons, figure out what makes them tick. You can only learn so much from a file – and you’re an alien on top of that. Besides, Thor wasn’t around all that long, and Loki was disappointingly easy to read.”

Kara frowns. “Well, I hope you’ve had your fill. I’m taking a shower now.”

“That an invitation?”

The Kryptonian groans. “Do you want me to kick you through the door, Nat?”

Natasha snickers. “Who’d have thought the strongest girl in the world would be such a prude? Fine, I’ll leave you to your modesty, Danvers. Best get to it anyway, the Captain called for an all-hands meeting.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Another mission already.”

The spy shakes her head. “The world isn’t so fucked up that the Avengers are needed on the daily. Not yet, anyway.” –she shrugs. “No, you’ve got a date with Bruce’s better half. Tony’s new base is ready for your little skirmish.”

Right after her shower, Kara finds herself making a beeline for the kitchen, only to find a crowd already there. Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, and a couple of guys she hasn’t met before are all waiting for her, circled around the breakfast table, all of them either in uniform or underarmor. On the table is a single plate, covered in a napkin.

Rogers amusedly hands Stark a five dollar bill. “What’s going on here?” –Kara asks, suspicious.

“I bet Cap you’d be heading straight for the kitchen as soon as you were decent. He thought you’d be a dutiful little teammate and skip breakfast in favor of going to the hangar.” –Stark explains. “I know my superhumans better than the super soldier himself, apparently.”

Kara blushes. “Sorry. I need calories like you need caffeine.”

“Well put. You’ve met Romanoff already, but that’s Clint and Rhodey.” –he says, pointing at the Caucasian guy with the purple sunglasses and the dark-skinned man wearing a similar undersuit to Tony’s beside him. “The Hawk and the Platypus, respectively.”

Clint gives her a barely perceptible, curt nod, while Rhodey offers a handshake, which she gingerly returns. “Do me a favor and ignore the monotreme nickname, alright? Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, at your service.” –he says, with a charming smile. “Hell of a grip you got there.”

Kara rubs the back of her head. “...sorry, it’s kind of a thing with me.” –she says. “I’m Kara Danvers. It’s nice to meet you.”

Stark elbows Rogers. “What did I tell ya? Rhodey’s a perfect fit for the team.”

Kara gasps. “You’re an Avenger too?”

Rhodes nods. “Technically on loan from the Air Force. Since they couldn’t make heads or tails out of the suit Tony made for me, they agreed to let me join the team in between missions.” –he explains, then frowns. “I couldn’t be here to fight against the Chitauri on time – I’m no Iron Man, but I still should’ve done my part. I’m not missing out again. So, you can count on the War Machine.”

“Supergirl.” –she reciprocates, smiling. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

“All hands on deck, right?” –he shrugs. “Good to be here.”

Stark rolls his eyes. “Alright, you two – the sap’s starting to drip all over us manly superheroes. Now, I know you’re looking forward to a nice, big breakfast courtesy of your obscenely rich friend, Tony Stark – that’s me – which leads us to our second order of business for the day.” –he says, then gestures exaggeratedly at the covered up plate, like a very proud chef. “Voilà!”

He yanks the napkin away, revealing...an oatmeal bar. Kara raises an eyebrow. “I...hope you’ve got like, fifty more of those hidden behind your back. I’m not seeing my recommended twelve thousand calories.”

Tony shakes his head. “No need for more. Within the confines of the oatmeal crust you can plainly see, there’s a hyper-dense core of pure nutrients, calibrated for your Kryptonian biology.” –he explains, much too proud of himself. He smirks. “Bruce and I got bored last night and invented this thing while you were hanging out with the vigilantes.”

Bruce winces. “I want no credit for this. It tastes like motor oil and sadness – and I’m not even exaggerating, either. Hulk, he’s...actually ripped out an engine with his teeth before. Think it was a Humvee?”

The room snickers. “Gross. I’ll try it, anyway.”

Rogers hands her the plate. She grabs the bar, guffawing when she notices the hairline cracks on the ceramic underneath – hyper-dense indeed. Kara bites into it, and munches on.

Tony pales as she does. “...holy shit, she actually likes it.”

The Kryptonian turns beet red. “...it’s actually really tasty.”

The billionaire inventor breaks out in cackles, Rogers chuckles, and the rest all at least grin or smirk a little. “Well, the more you freakin’ know; I guess Kryptonians like the taste of motor oil.”

“We never had fossil fuels on Krypton! How was I supposed to know they’d be, like, a delicacy?”

On the way to the upstate facility, Kara pulls out her phone – fun times, and all, but they still need to figure out Project Centipede. She brings up the direct message interface, takes a deep breath, and gets to typing.

   >@Avengers: Hey Lena?

   >@Lena_Luthor: Yes, overwhelmingly male-centric assortment of borderline comic book characters?

Kara snorts, despite herself. She won’t be admitting it to anyone, anytime soon, but...Rao, she missed Lena’s dry humor.

   >@Avengers: Har-har. It’s Kara.

   >@Lena_Luthor: I gathered as much, yes. To what do I owe the pleasure?

   >@Avengers: Wanted to talk to you about OsCorp. I need a favor.

   >@Lena_Luthor: How fortuitous; I need to speak to you as well. I believe I’ve found something you and the rest of your colorful friends need to see.

Kara’s eyes widen, and she nearly crushes the titanium alloy phone Tony specifically designed for her to not-so-easily destroy.

   >@Avengers: !!!

   >Let’s meet ASAP. I’ve got a thing, but I can cancel.

She nearly rips out of the secured seat in the back of the Quinjet in her rush to tell Tony to turn right back around, but Lena quickly stops her.

   >@Lena_Luthor: Don’t. Go about your day as you normally would. I need to set some things up, anyway. Meet me at the office after midnight. Friends are not required,    >but...encouraged.

Her lips tremble at the thought of Lena in danger – and they shouldn’t, they haven’t made up at all, haven’t even talked about what happened back then, but she can’t help it.

It’s Lena.

Of course, being Lena, Kara knows she means it – going to her now will only make things more complicated. She has no choice but to trust her – even if it means she’s going to spend the entire day worried.

   >@Avengers: Midnight it is.

   >...please be careful, Lena.

Immediately afterward, Kara creates a new message chain.

   >@Avengers: How’s Karen doing?

   >@SpiderMan: omg how do i even have this acct!??1? i swear it wasnt on my phone yesterday

   >shes fine btw. shaken but already walkin around

   >karens a tough cookie

Kara smirks – she had JARVIS create a secured account for Peter to use and safely communicate with her.

   >@Avengers: Always assume JARVIS is involved whenever something weird involving tech happens.

   >Glad Karen’s ok. Wanted to let you know I can’t make it to patrol tonight.

   >@SpiderMan: no prob! guess ill just...brave the wild streets of ny all by my lonesome tonite

She snorts; she’s seen firsthand how much of a pro Peter already is.

   >@Avengers: Spare me the guilt trip, Spidey.

   >I kinda need a favor, though.

   >@SpiderMan: whats up???

   >@Avengers: Think you could swing by OsCorp around midnight? I know it’ll be a bit late, but...might be something going on. Might be nothing, too, but I’d rather be safe.

   >@SpiderMan: ...

   >u cant see my face but i legit just teared up a lil bit

   >u have like the whole ass AVENGERS and ur asking me???

There’s the insecurity, rearing its ugly head again. Never hurts to reinforce his belief in himself.

   >@Avengers: Of course. I trust you, Spider-Man.

   >@SpiderMan: OMG YOU HYPHENATED AND EVERYTHING

   >ill be there dont worry

   >bringin all the quips and thwips u can handle

Kara blinks, tilting her head in confusion.

   >@Avengers: I’m almost afraid to ask, but...what’s a “thwip”?

   >@SpiderMan: its an onomatopeia duh

   >u didnt hear it the other night?

   >@Avengers: Nope. I’ll be sure to listen for it tonight.

   >Gotta go, now. I may or may not be about to fight the Hulk.

Chapter Text

“Don’t take Barton’s grumpiness personally.” –Natasha tells her, casually leaning against an unused locker as Kara puts on her boots inside the training grounds’ locker room. “Recent events haven’t been very kind to him.”

Kara purses her lips. “I didn’t really notice.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” –the redhead says, dryly. “You deflated like a sad bouncy house the minute he didn’t so much as say ‘hi’ back.”

Kara pouts slightly. “Ugh, fine. I thought I made a bad impression, somehow.”

“Well, it’s definitely not something you did.” –she shrugs. “You’ve gotta understand, this is all new to us; we’ve dealt with our fair share of Enhanced over the years – and they haven’t been easy marks, either – but ever since Tony, and Thor, and Banner all made a splash, the threat level’s spiked exponentially.”

“And me.” –Kara concludes.

“Like I said, it’s not personal. Clint was...compromised, by Loki. Put under his spell, made to fight his own people – forced to fight us. He’s the one who led the mission to free Loki and take down the Helicarrier.”

Kara knows about the damaged mobile base, of course, but the name ‘Loki’ eludes her. “Who’s Loki?”

“Thor’s brother. Adopted, or so he says.” –she says, smirking at some joke only she knows. “He initially stole the Tesseract and possessed a couple dozen S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in the process. We captured him in Germany, but his minions bust him out, and he then used the Tesseract to open the portal that the Chitauri used to invade.”

The blonde narrows her eyes – she does, in fact, remember catching wind of some kind of high profile public arrest in Germany a few days before the invasion. “What happened with him? Did you...y’know...?” –she asks, drawing a line across her neck.

Natasha snorts. “No, unfortunately. The Hulk beat the shit out of him, and he surrendered. Thor took him back to Asgard to face whatever their particular brand of punishment is.”

Kara hums. “I see.”

The redhead shrugs. “So you can see why Clint might have a hard time trusting you. Especially considering you’re someone who isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with the Hulk. It’s hard, knowing there’s someone out there you couldn’t beat if your life depended on it.” –she confesses.

“Is there anything I can do to change that? I don’t wanna be on bad terms with anyone on the team if I can help it.”

“Well, there’s your first mistake.” –she says. “Trust me, Kara, there’s a reason the Avengers Initiative was thought out to be a ‘sometimes’ kind of affair – there’s a lot of clashing personalities in the team, and you can bet they’ll clash, once the novelty wears off. Respect and trust are important in teamwork, sure, but friendship is hardly necessary for us to be effective.”

Kara adjusts her skirt, snapping the belt in place. “That’s kind of...pessimistic, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” –Romanoff shrugs. “Maybe you’re a little too optimistic yourself.” –she says. She tests her gauntlets, making sparks and pops fill the air, causing Kara to wince – invulnerable or not, electrocution hurts like a bitch. “You saw it yourself the other day, on the highway; five minutes alone, and Stark and Rogers were already at each other’s throats. And you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed how uncomfortable Banner is with keeping the would-be robbers in the Tower.”

“We asked them to stay.” –Kara reminds her.

“...and then put them in quarantine. Call it what you will, but they aren’t exactly honored guests.”

Kara sighs. “Why are you telling me this?”

Natasha chuckles. “Partly to push your buttons. But it’s also because you have this way of drawing people together. Maybe it’s because people will listen to the strongest being on the planet. Maybe it’s just ‘cause you’re really that nice. Whatever it is, you need to realize just what you’re taking on, being a part of the Avengers – besides the supervillains and alien armies, that is.”

“Which would be...?”

The spy looks away. “We’re all broken people. Duct-taped back together, sure, but we’re always just a stressful moment away from snapping again. It’s a lot to handle on the best of days, but now? Now the whole world is expecting us to solve everyone’s problem. We are going to break again, and someone’s gonna have to pick up the pieces.”

“That’s what we’re here for, though – why we’re meant to be a team. Sure, we might get knocked down, but there should always be someone around to help us back on our feet.”

Natasha shoots her an appraising look. “...I hope you’re right.”

“Stop fussing already, you two.” –Tony says, over the intercom. “I designed your suits, so I already know you look great.”

Kara raises an annoyed eyebrow. “...were you spying on us, you creep?”

“No, but my sexless, omnipresent AI was. Now come on, Bruce is ready to throw down.”

Kara gasps as she steps out onto the training field proper. “What the heck happened here?”

The grounds are huge – about ten acres of land, roughly equivalent to eight football fields of sunken rocky terrain surrounded by thirty foot tall walls, in turn encircled by a forested area just about half a mile south of the former Stark Industries warehouse complex that makes up the – still under construction – new Avengers base. What Kara means, though, is that the grounds are also blasted to hell, the acrid smell of soot and gunpowder assaulting Kara’s sensitive nose.

War Machine lands with a heavy thud – betraying the added weight of the veritable arsenal grafted onto the much bulkier, gray-black variant Iron Man suit he wears – beside her. “Tony had me test the new armor yesterday, before I came in.” –he says, then the silver and crimson-eyed faceplate lifts. “I’d apologize about the mess, but...well, it wasn’t all that much prettier before I started shooting.”

Stark speaks into their comm-links as he flies over, Rogers and Romanoff jogging towards them from behind. “This place is an abandoned limestone quarry for the nearby towns before Dad bought the land and turned it into a storage complex. The idea is to build a modular training area here that can realistically simulate battlefields, rescue attempts, Asgardian grudge matches, and so on. The tech is still a work in progress, but this should be enough for today.”

Kara nods. “Alright. So, what are the rules?”

“We’ve set things up kind of like a rodeo, at Bruce’s insistence, cameras and sensor equipment all around. He goes green, you two tussle – strictly within the boundaries of this place, please – until one of you yields. The rest of us are fancy rodeo clowns; mostly here to brighten up the place, but if the Hulk goes a little off-script, we’ll distract and tire him out. JARVIS runs point on the data gathering.”

“Are you guys sure about staying? Things might get a little too hectic.” –she asks, worried.

“We’ll be fine.” –Rogers reassures her. “Just do your thing.”

“And have fun, yeah?” –Romanoff adds with a smirk.

Kara smiles at them, ever so slightly nervous, then flies towards the middle of the field, where both Banner and Stark are waiting.

“Are we really doing this?” –Bruce asks meekly.

“It’ll be fine, Brucey. Kara’s game, and so are we.” –Stark says.

“It’s just...I’ve never turned into the Hulk for leisure before.”

“Think of it as more of an experiment, then.”

Banner shoots him a withering look. “I mean there aren’t people shooting at me, for once.”

Stark chuckles as the repulsors on his palms glow brighter and whine with power. “Just say the word, buddy.”

“Come on, Tony, there’s no need to pressure him.” –she says, landing softly. “Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this, Doctor?”

“Please, it’s Bruce.” –he says. “And...yes, I am. Nervous as all hell, but the Hulkbuster needs to exist.”

Kara nods. “Tell me what you need, then.”

“To relax, mostly. And, uh...maybe convince the Hulk you’re a threat.”

“Wait, what? I’m plenty threatening, aren’t I?” –she asks, indignant.

Tony gives her a so-so wave of his gauntlet. Bruce rubs the back of his head. “I don’t think the Hulk can fathom it. He thinks you’re...well, puny.”

“Well, ow. But you know I’m not, right?”

Bruce nods quickly. “I do. I just...worry, y’know? I know you’re plenty strong, I just don’t want him to hurt you.”

“So, don’t let him. It’s not just his hands on the wheel, right? You told me he’s always there, ready to jump in whenever you get hurt. But you’re also around when he’s out. I know you and the Hulk don’t see eye to eye much, but I doubt he wants me hurt, either.”

He purses his lips. “You kinda overestimate how much he listens to me. What if he loses control? What if I can’t get through to him in time?”

Tony’s faceplate lifts. “Bruce, buddy, you gotta give your selves a bit more credit. The Hulk was amazing in New York; he took out even more bad guys than I did – and, lest you forget, he saved my life.”

Bruce looks at his hands. “It’s just...he’s so destructive. Half of Midtown was wrecked because he doesn’t know his own strength.”

“Well, that’s what we’re here to figure out, isn’t it? We’ll start slow and figure things out from there.” –Kara promises.

The eternally tired-looking man stares at her. She can see the profound fear in his eyes plainly, but something else sparks within. Something like determination. “Okay.” –he says, then starts to unbutton his shirt. “I’ll try my best. Just promise me you’ll throw us both into the sun if he goes nuts.”

She rolls her eyes at the outlandish petition as he drops his pants, revealing a form-fitting pair of purple shorts, stamped with the newly minted Avengers logo – a stylized red ‘A’ within a circle, the crossed line at the middle of the letter forming an arrow shooting towards the right. Tony grabs the clothes, and blasts off towards the edge of the grounds.

“Ready?” –he asks.

She punches her palm, hard. “Born that way.” –she says, then snort-laughs. “Get it? Because my species was genetically engineered to...?”

“Just get on with it already!” –Romanoff shouts in her ear.

Bruce spares a small smile for her terrible joke, then closes his eyes. Kara assumes a fighting stance as Banner grows – his bones, his muscles, and skin engorged and stretched well past the limitations of the human form and the Law of Conservation of Mass – grunting in obvious pain as the transformation turns him from brilliant scientist into raging green monster.

Only...there is no rage. The Hulk stands well over eight feet tall, a veritable mounting of muscles that might’ve given her pause, if not for the unmistakable, innocent curiosity twinkling in those distinctive, emerald eyes.

“Hi.” –she waves, her pose relaxing somewhat. “I’m Supergirl.”

The Hulk frowns. “No Supergirl. Kara!” –he states, his voice deep, the words clearly difficult to get out. Then, he punches his chest. “HULK!”

She smiles. “Got’cha.” –she says, then offers her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Hulk.”

The jade giant gingerly takes her hand, as if afraid to crush it. The monstrous hand obviously dwarfs hers, but she manages to get a grip, and squeezes.

His expression turns first to one of clear surprise, and then wonder; he tries to match the mounting strength of her grip, and, for the first time since she was a regular child on Krypton, her knuckles pop.

“Holy shit. There’s enough pascals in that handshake to make diamonds.” –Stark breathes through the comm.

Kara giggles as they release each other’s hands, unable to best the other. “You’re pretty strong, big guy.”

The Hulk gives her a huge, toothy grin. “Hulk is STRONGEST Avenger!” –he claims. “Stronger than THOR, stronger than KARA!”

She tilts her head teasingly. “You sure about that?”

“Hulk is SURE!”

Kara shrugs. “I feel like I could take you on, though. Maybe we should test that?”

The big guy frowns. “Test?”

“Bruce wants to know how strong you really are, yeah. I’m kinda curious, too.”

Hulk growls. “Banner wants to BUST Hulk!” –he accuses.

“He does want the Hulkbuster armor built.” –she admits. “But nobody here is trying to get rid of you. It’s just a way to hold you back. Just in case, y’know? Sometimes, when we fight the bad guys, we get a little carried away. And when we’re this strong, we can wreck too much – hurt innocent people, even though we don’t want to.” –she tries to explain.

The Hulk’s massive fists open and close, apprehensively. “Hulk only SMASH bad punies. Hulk PROTECT good punies!”

Kara nods. “Believe me, I get it. But this strength of ours...sometimes it’s a bit more like a curse. Sometimes we end up harming the people we’re trying to protect.” –she says, sadly. “How about this? Let’s not think of this as a test, or an experiment. Let’s try to see it as...training.”

“Training?”

“Yeah! We’re superheroes now, buddy! We have to train to get better at it!”

The Hulk seems to ponder this for a moment. “Hulk...protect punies better?”

“I promise, yes.” –she says. “What do you say?”

He grins. “Hulk say...SMASH!”

Faster than she could even blink, the Hulk backhands her straight in the solar plexus, sending her careening several dozen feet, kicking up dirt and bits of stone as she turns head over heels over and over until she comes to a stop. Kara can hear the shocked gasps in her comm, but more importantly, she can feel a small, nearly forgotten ache on her chest.

The hit stung.

Kara rises, dusting herself off. The Hulk seems uncertain, afraid that he’s gone too far, but roars in glee as she gives him a thumbs-up. Then, Kara charges, forward and upward.

The Hulk jumps up to meet her, but Kara has the clear advantage in the skies, grabbing the arm about to hammer her down and using the swing’s momentum to turn to the ground and throw him towards it. The impact is massive – making the earth rumble and causing an upwards shower of rock fragments all around the newly formed crater – but it’s not nearly as powerful as the diving punch she delivers, straight at the Hulk’s gut.

Kara brushes dust and debris out of her hair as she floats out of reach of the dazed Avengers. “How are we doing, big guy?”

The Hulk responds by leaping feet-first towards her, making contact and taking her right back to the ground. “GOOD FIGHT! Kara not so puny!” –he compliments her.

She grins, pinned as she is by fifteen hundred pounds of muscle. “I can do way better than ‘not so puny’, pal.” –she says, then grabs his massive ankle and switches places with him, slamming him once, thrice, five times into the stone around her. The Hulk guffaws, rising after being released, more than a little dizzy.

“I can’t fucking believe it, you Loki’d the Hulk.” –Stark cackles over the comm.

“I...what?” -she asks, confused.

“You seen that lovely portrait in black marble Stark keeps in the common room? It’s a Hulk original, courtesy of Loki’s body.” –Romanoff explains, a smile in her voice.

Kara gasps. “Oh, Rao, I had no clue!”

“Just something to complement your Avengers lore. If you guys wanna stop, JARVIS has more than enough.” –Tony says.

The Kryptonian shrugs. “Alright.” –she says. “Tony says they have enough data, Hulk.”

The green giant vehemently shakes his head. “Not experiment, TRAINING!” –he reminds her. “Fight, FIGHT!”

Oh-oh, Kara thinks to herself. “We’ll pick it up next week, I promise!”

The Hulk scowls. “Fight NOW!” –he insists, taking a swing at her, which she barely evades, flying out of reach.

“Please, big guy, I swear we’ll do this a bunch! There’s no need to rush into it!” –she pleads, but the Hulk is having none of it. Indeed, he roars, and starts to charge, his enormous stride closing the distance in mere moments. Kara braces for impact, but the Hulk’s arm is suddenly stopped mid-swing, by what she can only assume is the other guy with a hand on the wheel.

“NO BANNER!” –he snarls, punching his temples repeatedly. “NO BANNER, ONLY HULK!”

Kara gasps in fear – not for herself, but for Bruce. Banner must’ve tried to take control of his body back by force – and it’s then she realizes that Hulk is just as afraid of Banner ripping control from his hands and keeping it as Bruce is of the reverse.

She tries to grab him. “Hulk, I promise I’ll talk to him! We’ll all work on this together, please!”

The Hulk swats her away in response, harden than ever. Finally, she can see the rage monster; logic has flown out the window, replaced instead by primal fear fueling a complete focus on survival – and the Hulk seems to have no such concept of a flight response.

No sooner has Kara risen than a van-sized block of cut limestone takes her off her feet again, crushing her under twelve tons of rock or so. She grunts in annoyance, pushing it away with ease.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the War Machine close in, priming his weapons. “Stop! I’m totally fine, don’t get involved.”

“But...!”

“Everyone stop. We’ll go on your mark, Kara.” –Rogers grimly orders the team.

The Hulk, meanwhile, has found another similarly sized block to throw at her; Kara has plenty of time to react, this time, and so her eyes light up, the pencil-thin, blue-white beams of her heat vision easily bisecting the stone in time for its two halves to fly neatly past her, tiny flecks of glowing, molten stone sticking to her increasingly torn-up new suit. She thanks Rao that her emblem and cape are completely unharmed – and that my underwear isn’t showing yet, she thinks, amusedly – and blazes towards the confused creature ahead.

The Hulk bellows, clawing at his own face, but manages to put up a decent guard. It doesn’t really matter, as Kara’s punch proves strong enough to completely overcome his defense, sending him flying off towards the grounds’ natural walls. Kara doesn’t let up her assault for a second, slamming into and pinning him against the wall. Time seems to slow down, somehow, but Kara doesn’t stop to consider it, focusing instead on delivering a series of withering jabs at his torso.

She’s so focused that she doesn’t even realize her brain has picked this moment to remember a conversation she had with Alex, years back.

“You know I don’t need any of this, Alex.” –she whines. “It’s not like there’s a single thing on this planet I can’t one-hit KO.”

Her older sister circles around her. “It pays to be prepared, Kara. Besides, I need to practice; if I wanna grab Deputy Director Hill’s attention, I have to be able to take on anyone. If I knock a Kryptonian out, I bet she’ll transfer me to her division first thing out of the Academy.”

“I’m pretty sure knocking me out is impossible on Earth, sis.”

“Nothing is impossible for humanity. We can achieve anything we put our minds to...eventually, at any rate.”

Kara snorts. “Sounds like a motivational Facebook post one of your aunts would tag us all in.”

Alex grins. “It probably is. And I know I probably can’t ever knock you out, no matter how hard I try. But still, the worst effort is one you never make. And hey, maybe Kryptonians are vulnerable to the ‘button’, too.”

“What button?”

“This one!” –Alex shouts, punching just to the side of her chin. As expected, Kara barely flinches, more out of surprise than anything else.

Alex hisses in pain. “Son of a bitch! I forget it’s like punching a wall.”

“Come on, give me some credit. I could bring down a wall by sneezing on it.” –she jokes. “You okay?”

“Oh, shut up and get your guard up. I may not be able to leave a scratch, but I can and will knock you on your ass.”

Back in the present, Kara feels time start to settle back into its natural rhythm. Before the window of opportunity closes, she delivers the mother of all haymakers to the Hulk’s jaw, sending him rolling sideways throughout the stone wall, finally ending up in a heap about fifty feet away.

Kara shakes her head, snapping out of the adrenaline fuelled frenzy. Her muscles feel oddly heavy, but she ignores the sensation in favor of floating towards the fallen Avenger, relieved to see he still breathes normally. She lands beside him, and Stark lands on the other side.

He touches his palm to the Hulk’s neck. “Is he ok?” –she asks, a spike of fear going through her stomach.

The faceplate goes up. “Oh, just fine.” –he says, nonchalant. “I’m just making sure you actually knocked out the fucking Hulk.”

“...oh.”

“He’s out. How, I’m not sure, but holy shit, Kara.”

The Hulk stirs beneath them, slowly sitting upright. Stark’s helmet discreetly seals back up, but it doesn’t seem to be necessary – the Hulk’s body language is as passive as it was before the fight.

“Are you ok?” –Kara tentatively asks.

“Hulk...dizzy.” –he mutters. “Kara smash good.”

She smirks, relieved. “Told you so, buddy.”

“Kara not puny...Kara STRONG, like HULK!” –he declares, rising to his feet, growing a huge smile. He delicately pats her head. “Hulk protect anyway.”

“Aww...I really appreciate that, Hulk. You kinda spooked me there, for a bit.”

He wrings his massive hands. “Hulk is...sorry. Hulk scared you only want Hulkbuster too.”

Kara shakes her head. “The armor is a good back-up, but it’s a better idea for us to just train. We could both benefit from learning how to fight, and what’s more, fight together. As a team.”

“Hulk train with Kara. Want to learn Kara’s last punch.” –he admits, excitedly.

“I’ll teach you, promise. But you and Banner need to work together. You guys are, like, a mini-team within the team. And that means learning how to share.” –she says, crossing her arms.

He pouts, glumly. “Banner NEVER shares...”

“I know. And that’s not right, either, but think of why that is; he’s scared that you’ll take over for good. And yeah, he’s still not quite sure what to expect whenever you come out, but he’s willing to risk his life to protect people. You need to try and meet each other halfway.”

The Hulk slumps. Kara grabs his hand. “Hey. I know you’re not the rage monster people fear you are, Hulk. I know you get what I’m saying.”

He looks guilty, but ultimately nods, gruffly. “Fight next week?”

She winks. “We’ll work something out, bud.”

Hulk closes his eyes, squeezing her hand. The wondrous process of growth starts to revert, making him shake and groan as he shrinks back into Bruce Banner’s haggard form.

“Owww.” –he whines, touching the spot on his jaw she punched his lights out on.

“Sorry.” –Kara winces.

He gives her an exhausted smile. “It’s ok. You handled the Hulk better than...well, almost anyone else, myself included. I’m impressed.”

She shrugs. “You guys are two sides of the same coin, Bruce. It’s time you both embraced that.”

He sighs. “Tell you what: give me eight hours of sleep and one of your gross, diesel-flavored energy bars, and I’ll get right on that.”

Chapter Text

“I did what with my fists?” –Kara asks, in utter disbelief.

The Avengers – minus Thor and Bruce, for obvious reasons – lounge in the common room, watching Tony and JARVIS break down the footage of the fight, as well as the subsequent training drills they went over. It’s late in the afternoon, and everyone is various levels of exhausted, which makes the veritable banquet set up in their midst a godsend. There’s something for everyone – from classic New York-style pizza to Korean barbeque, pot stickers, fried chicken, mexican tortas, mac & cheese, shawarma, and a whole-ass salad bar. Any casual observer could justifiably call the dinner a shameless display, but given most of the Avengers have much higher than average caloric requirements, Kara wouldn’t be surprised if the buffet ended up picked clean.

“You punched the Hulk nearly five-hundred times in three seconds. A hundred and sixty times per second, more or less – which is about twelve times the current human record of thirteen, mind you.” –Tony says, shaking his head, bewildered. “Here, look.”

He waves his hand and the clip fast-forwards, stopping at the moment Kara pinned down the Hulk against the limestone wall. It starts playing at normal speed – and the weirdest thing happens: Kara’s arms become an absolute blur, barely visible as they slam over and over into his midsection, before finally slowing down into the punch that, however briefly, knocked the jade giant out.

“How the heck did I do that?” –she wonders, looking at her fists in a new light.

“Well, the theory goes that what hysterical strength does for us – a sudden burst of adrenaline that might, say, enable a panicked mother to lift a car to save her baby – makes Kryptonians move at insane speeds.” –he surmises. “Tough to confirm without doing your bloodwork, of course, but since that’s proven impossible so far, it’s the best we’ve got.”

Kara tilts her head, munching on her twenty-seventh pot sticker. “Is that why my arms feel so heavy?”

“Yeah, probably.”

Romanoff snorts. “Congratulations, you just exercised for the first time.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve never experienced an adrenaline burst before.” –Rogers notes. “Haven’t you ever been scared?”

“Not enough, I guess. Not since I came here.” –she says, thoughts of escaping her doomed homeworld flitting around her head. Indeed, the last time she felt something like the simmering burn in her muscles was as a child, on Krypton.

Romanoff hums into her beer. “I mean, it makes sense, right? It’d be hard for someone who’s invincible to ever feel threatened.”

Kara crosses her arms. “So then, what triggered it this time?”

“Must’ve been your subconscious.” –Rogers muses. “You may not have felt personally feel threatened by the Hulk, but as soon as we thought about jumping in, you really lay into him. I think you were trying to end it as quickly as possible – which translated into your super-fast punches.”

“So she went Mama Bear on Banner’s ass?” –Barton concludes, raising an amused eyebrow.

Stark points his burrito at him in agreement. “Good thing, too. The Hulk was starting to ramp up.”

“What do you mean?” –Kara asks.

“The Hulk has a sort of ‘base strength’ – it’s how powerful he is immediately after transforming. Now, where your own powers are directly derived from collected solar energy interacting with your Kryptonian biology, the Hulk’s power is entirely dependent on how angry he gets. The same adrenaline that gives you supersonic punching speed makes the Hulk exponentially stronger over time.” Stark explains. “Which y’know, breaks all sorts of known universal laws, but that’s par for the course these days.”

The hologram reshapes itself into a series of ridiculously complex equations – the kind Kryptonians would consider basic math, not that she remembers enough to interpret them at a glance – culminating in a graph showing an exponential curve. “The model is far from complete – a single experiment, of course, does not yield nearly enough data for that – but you can see a rough comparative estimate for your strength levels. Here’s Bruce’s...” –he says. Sure enough, the Hulk’s power is represented as an exponential curve that tends towards infinity – which means that, given enough time to ‘ramp up’, as Tony puts it, there is no limit to the Hulk’s potential strength.

“...and this is you.” –he tells Kara, who gasps as the second line appears. While her potential strength is not quite infinite, it’s immediately clear that Kara severely outclasses the Hulk, even well enough into his rage mode. There’s a moment where the lines cross, and the Hulk would thus overpower Kara, but it’s...well, it’s up there. “This is a conservative estimate of Kara’s numbers under the effects of our little yellow star, mind you, based on S.H.I.E.L.D. data and combined with today’s measurements. JARVIS tried to account for everything, make the data as realistic as possible, but...even then, there’s no question. Even reining in the numbers, pound for pound, you’re the most powerful person on Earth.”

The comfortable silence turns sobering – at face value, this is great news; it means Kara should be strong enough to face most any challenge, protect anyone given enough time and practice. On the other hand, however, is the fact that, should Kara be somehow compromised – forced to switch allegiances, or somehow compelled to do evil, for example – the Avengers would be hard pressed to stop her.

“So, can you contain him?” –Banner asks, sleepily shambling into view behind them. Bruce’s eyes are half-lidded, a little bruised even, like he’s missed out on whole days of sleep. He wears a bright purple robe – he seriously likes that color – and giant, fuzzy white slippers, no doubt courtesy of Stark’s humor. The brilliant scientist holds a piping hot cup of what must be tea, from the fragrant scent.

Stark raises an eyebrow at his exhausted gait. “Assuming the fight doesn’t last a whole lot longer than half an hour? Sure! Well, plausibly. We’d need a lot of bells and whistles, but if these numbers hold up, the vibranium isotope I’ve synthesized should serve as a durable enough base for the Hulkbuster armor to take on your alter ego.”

Rogers perks up, putting aside his twelfth pizza slice. “Vibranium? You can just make that now? Howard said the world’s entire supply was used up in making my shield.”

The billionaire gives him a sarcastic look. “Vibranium isotope, Rogers. Dad figured out some stuff between the forties and the nineties, but even he couldn’t pull the real thing out of his ass. While it’s true that the ninety-ninth percentile of Earth’s vibranium went into the adamantium alloy that makes up your shield, he theorized that a reasonable facsimile could be synthesized. Mix his research with my own desperate need to save myself from death by palladium poisoning, and voilà.” –he says, jarringly amused, tapping the glowing circle embedded into his chest. “Synthetic vibranium isotope. The metal plates I’ve derived from it are only about seventy-five percent as durable as actual vibranium, and don’t carry the energy absorption effect nearly as well – and they’re far from indestructible, unlike your spangly Frisbee – but they’re light years  ahead of every other alloy humanity has conceived. Doesn’t ice up at high altitudes either, which is always nice.” –he jokes, though only Romanoff and Rhodey seem to get it, smirking a little.

“So the Hulkbuster is clearly gonna be a thing, but what about her?” –Barton asks, pointing the arrow he’s been toying with at Kara.

“What about her?” –Stark asks, raising an eyebrow. “You think the alien cinnamon bun is turning on us anytime soon, Barton?”

“I’m not saying she is, I’m asking what we’re doing if she does. I’m more of a trigonometry buff, myself, but we all know what the graph means, Stark. ‘Most powerful person on Earth’, remember?”

Romanoff places a soothing hand on his shoulder. “It’s a little early to question anyone’s loyalties here, Clint. Even for us.”

Barton scoffs. “Is it? We know mind control is legit, guys. Or did you already forget a fucking Norse god shoved a staff in my chest and co-opted me for a couple weeks of fun and murder?”

“Loki’s scepter was secured after the battle.” –Rogers tries to reassure him. “Agent Hill confirmed its arrival at the Triskelion for analysis.”

“Captain, I’m not gonna hold it against you because you’re the newbie, but S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t just ooo and awww at the tech before sending it to the Fridge; the eggheads reverse-engineer, improve, and reproduce. Fury has done a lot for me over the years, but his obsession with repurposing captured tech has blown up in our face one too many times.” –he says, begrudging. “You ask me, Thor should’ve taken the fucking thing back to Asgard. Melted it down in the heart of a dying star, or wherever his magic hammer was made.”

Stark nods. “You found the fascist cosplays in Fury’s closet yourself, Cap. Barton’s right; S.H.I.E.L.D.’s way too shady to be trusted with that kind of power.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. has made many mistakes with repurposed technologies before, but there are too many benefits not to do it.” –Romanoff argues. “It’s the only way we could keep up with Enhanced individuals before this team existed, and believe me, we needed the tech.”

“You guys are kinda missing the point of all this.” –Bruce mutters into his tea. “The Hulk is, latest developments aside, kind of a loose cannon. I specifically requested the Hulkbuster be created to compensate for this. As far as we know, Supergirl has no such issues – and even if she did, we haven’t even let Kara speak.”

Everyone turns to the blonde, who’s been silently watching the discussion like a tennis match, digging into her latest platter – a third serving of shawarma. “What?” –she asks, deer-caught-in-the-headlights style.

“Bruce has a point.” –Stark admits. “We’re sitting here, discussing the anti-Supergirl doomsday plot, and you haven’t said a word.”

Kara shifts, uncomfortable with the topic. “I mean, I kinda did. I said I’d like to be stopped if I were turned, didn’t I? I don’t know how you’d do it, but I agree with agent Barton.” –she says. Hawkeye gives her an appraising look. “I don’t really wanna think about what I’d be like as a villain, but there’s too much at stake for us to just...turn a blind eye to the possibility.”

They all go quiet at the admission. “So what, you want me to make another armor for you? Like, a Superbuster?” –Stark asks, frowning.

Kara snorts. “Not with that name, no.”

Rogers crosses his arms. “Let’s table this discussion for now; like it or not, the same principle could be applied to any one of us, and discussing ways to defeat each other isn’t something we’re even remotely ready for, as a team. This ‘Hulkbuster’ concept may be a priority, but I want it to be clear that it’s Doctor Banner’s. Our priority is, and must continue to be, the protection of those who cannot protect themselves. There’s enough going on with this ‘Project Centipede’ business to think about fighting ourselves.”

“Speaking of which, I have a bone to pick with you, Danvers.” –Stark says, pointing an accusatory chicken club sandwich at Kara. “Cute flirting with disaster aside, what the hell are you thinking, making plans with Luthor without telling us about it?”

Cap raises an eyebrow as Kara blushes down to the roots of her hair. “Plans?” –he asks.

Romanoff snorts. “Flirting?”

Kara crosses her arms, defensively. “I was gonna tell you guys, eventually.” –she mutters. “Lena asked me to visit OsCorp tonight. She thinks she’s found something related to Centipede, so I figured I’d swing by and investigate.”

“...and invite the sticky, teenaged vigilante, but not your teammates, huh?” –Stark teases her.

“Are you seriously reading my DMs, Stark?”

“Technically, it’s the Avengers’ DMs. And no, JARVIS looked for me.” –he shrugs. “Which, by the way, is yet another reason not to plan things out via social media. Jay is a hell of a codebreaker, but it honestly wouldn’t take much for an interested party to snoop in and figure out your agenda.”

Kara frowns. “I thought you said the phone was secure.”

“Sure. But I haven’t bought Twitter, let alone rewritten its shitty direct messaging function. Nobody can access the data on that phone, but the account is another thing entirely.”

She curses under her breath. “Damn it. I didn’t think about that.”

The genius inventor makes a dismissive gesture. “It’s fine. Probably. Just...try to keep us in the loop before you go through these things.”

“I will. I just...thought I could handle this all by myself.”

Rogers offers a sympathetic smile. “I have no doubt that you could, Kara. But we’re a team, and that means you don’t have to. We all have your back, just as we know you have ours.”

“Right.”

Steven gives her a rather uncharacteristically cheeky grin. “So, then, in the interest of transparency...mind telling us about your date?”

Chapter Text

“I gotta say, for a ninety-four year old man, Captain Rogers is pretty blasé about your being gay.” –Rhodey notes, as the War Machine armor performs a full systems check, its many hidden weapons and tools popping up and sliding back into place underneath the armored plates. “Time period he was from, you’d expect...otherwise. It’s kind of heartwarming, knowing people have been good throughout history, circumstances and all.”

“I’m, uh, pansexual, actually.” –Kara clarifies. She snaps her golden belt shut around her waist, holding her skirt – a replacement, of course, the first one damaged beyond repair, only her cape and insignia surviving her tussle with the Hulk unscathed – in place. “But yeah, from what I know of human history...he really could’ve been, like, the worst.”

Barton snorts, tapping his...earpiece? It looks a bit more involved than an earpiece to Kara. “Guy’s way too naive.” –he says. “Good person, no doubt, but he’s woken up to a real shitty time and place. He’s in for a rude awakening, soon as the shock of the whole alien invasion wears off.”

“With the way Rogers has thrown himself into S.H.I.E.L.D. work, I don’t see it happening anytime soon.” –Natasha argues, leaning against her locker, already geared up and ready to go. “I don’t think I’ve seen him out of uniform since the invasion.”

“That can’t be healthy.” –Rhodey notes.

“I can’t say I blame him, though.” –Kara says, slipping on her boots. “Being in a...somewhat similar situation myself, you have this need to find something familiar. You just...gravitate to what you know. Before he went in the ice, all that Captain Rogers knew was the war, right? S.H.I.E.L.D. must seem like the closest thing to home, seventy years later.”

“Yeah, well. Helps when your sweetheart turns out to be the badass who founded S.H.I.E.L.D.” –Natasha says. “Fury barely had to say the words ‘Peggy Carter’ for Steve to sign up.”

Barton shakes his head. “Man is a golden retriever in human form.”

Romanoff hums, disagreeing. “More of a German shepherd, if you ask me. Fluffy cinnamon roll if he likes you, absolute hellhound if he doesn’t – just ask HYDRA.”

“That bad?” –Kara asks, curious, not exactly overly familiar with the details of Captain America’s career in the Second World War.

Hawkeye tests the balance of his new, Stark-tech collapsible bow. “Ninety-five percent of his exploits are classified to this day. Give you two guesses as to why.”

Kara raises her eyebrows. “Huh. He seems so...unassuming.”

“Well, forgive me for saying so, but so do you, Kara.” –Rhodey shrugs.

She chuckles, awkwardly. Romanoff nods at her. “So, is that why you stayed with the Danvers family? Familiarity?”

Kara considers this for a moment. “Maybe at first, but that didn’t last long. Eliza and Jeremiah are great, don’t get me wrong, but they aren’t my parents. I know Fury tried to place me with foster parents who more or less matched their profile, but...well, I could never see them as a substitute.”

“Alex, then?”

The Kryptonian smiles, wistfully. “Yeah, I guess that’s it. Alex kinda hated me at first – Jeremiah could be kind of...neglectful of her, trying to make my every waking moment comfortable. And Eliza, well. I was pretty bad at concealing my powers, at first, and Alex was supposed to keep an eye on me, but she was, like, a teenager, y’know? She had her own life, her own friends – it really wasn’t fair to expect her to drop everything for me. And sure enough, every time I messed up, Eliza would blame Alex for not being there to stop me.” –she recalls, wincing at the memories. “But we bonded over time. We got picked on a bit; I was the weirdly strong, abnormally tall girl who accidentally crushed the clavicle of her very handsy prom date, and she was the, um...the d-word. The unkind word for ‘lesbian’.”

Barton shakes his head. “Fucking kids, man. They’re the worst.”

Kara wisely fails to bring up the fact that she’s only twenty. “Anyway, we were both kind of...outcasts, I guess, and I didn’t mind her tastes at all – sorta shared them, even – so we just clicked, y’know?” –she says, then smirks to herself. “Having a sister is the best. I had a lot of cousins on Krypton, but...my parents never wanted another kid. Probably had the clout to get around the Empire’s genetic pool contribution requirements, too.” –she says, then sighs, mournfully. “I’ll never get back everything I lost when Krypton died, but...I’m so glad the Danvers took me in.”

“Damn.” –Rhodey says. “I guess you guys are used to this sort of thing, but...wow, you really are an alien, huh? ‘Genetic pool contribution requirements’? That’s wild.”

“My homeworld had two moons and our star was red like fresh blood.” –Kara says, amused. “You bet I’m an alien.”

“Hate to break it to you, Rhodes, but we’re not exactly used to this shit either. Kara’s only the third alien we’ve ever seen – not counting the thousands of cyborg reptilian apes Loki threw at us, obviously. S.H.I.E.L.D. usually deals with much more mundane things, like the various black markets and illegal human enhancement." –Clint says, sounding all too tired of his new circumstances already.

Rhodes scoffs. “That’s mundane?”

“Actual alien stuff is really rare, is what Clint’s getting at.” –Natasha says. “S.H.I.E.L.D. only gets to investigate when they touch down, like Thor in New Mexico. Everything beyond the lower atmosphere is S.W.O.R.D. jurisdiction, and they don’t much like to share.”

Kara raises an eyebrow; she didn’t even know S.W.O.R.D. was a thing. “But there has been more, right? Foo fighters over Nazi Germany? Roswell-type stuff?” –Rhodes asks.

“Sorry. Most of it is bullshit. Cover-ups for the messed up crap humans have come up with – I guess the governments of the world consider rumors of alien activity to be more benign than, say, rogue mutants, or terrorists armed with old HYDRA tech.” –Natasha surmises.

“There was this one story, though.” –Clint muses. “Remember?”

Natasha nods. “Oh, I remember,  alright.”

“Our handler was a pretty secretive guy, but he let us in on a little secret.” –Barton explains. “Said there was an...incident, in the nineties. Some kind of alien warrior, crashed on Los Angeles – looked like a normal, human woman, but could blast beams of light from her hands. Called herself a Kree.”

“Don’t forget about the shape-shifting reptilians.” –Natasha reminds him, sarcastically, like she doesn’t believe a word of it.

“Yeah, let’s not forget about those.” –Rhodey says, amused. “Y’know, most of the guys I’ve flown with over the years have stories. Weirdly shaped shadows, lights that move in ways an airplane can’t...even heard something about this massive blip on the radar over the Grand Canyon early this year.” –he says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I guess it’s nice to know not everyone’s full of it.”

“Oh, most of them probably are. I’d put money on ninety-five percent of those incidents happening because the Helicarrier was around – its retro-reflective panels glitch, sometimes. Aliens do exist, and they’re plentiful – we know from the data in Kara’s pod, in fact – but they just don’t seem all that interested in our planet.”

“I wonder why that Kree warrior crashed here, then.” –Kara wonders. “My pod crashed because the portal out of the Phantom Zone opened inside Earth’s atmosphere, but...I feel like we would’ve heard about it if a spaceship had crashed into LA.”

“Oh, no, there wasn’t a ship.” –Barton recalls. “Coulson said she just...fell out of the sky. Trashed a Blockbuster, I think.”

Rhodey gave a wistful sigh. “Man, I miss Blockbuster.”

Kara gives the older man a funny look, then turns to Barton. “Coulson’s your handler? I remember him! He was super nice to me – he was there when S.H.I.E.L.D. found me, and he was so patient while my translator implant learned English. Probably the one S.H.I.E.L.D. agent I like, besides my sister.” –she says, then blushes. “And, um...you guys, obviously.”

Barton sighs. “...yeah, that definitely sounds like Coulson. Damn it.”

“Coulson died.” –Romanoff informs Kara, picking up on her confusion, face carefully devoid of emotion. “Loki murdered him aboard the Helicarrier, before the Chitauri invasion. Spear through the heart, nothing anyone could do.”

Kara gasps, covering her mouth. “Oh, Rao, I am so sorry. I had no idea, I swear.”

“S’fine.” –Barton says, glowering, idly twirling an arrow between his fingers. “Phil died as he lived: confronting superpowered freaks he had no business messing around with. Probably has a shit-eating grin right now, wherever he is, knowing him dying gave Stark and Rogers the kick in the nuts they needed to get their heads out of their asses.”

“Maybe not the most courteous obituary, but he’d have probably loved it.” –Romanoff smiles sadly.

“He was one of the good ones.” –Rhodey says, forlorn. “Pepper and I shared a few stories over beers with the guy after Tony’s whole ‘palladium poisoning’ snafu, last year.”

Clint snorts. “Well, since we’re on this mushy, team bonding crap, I gotta tell you Kara, your punches are fucking terrible.” –he says, crossing his arms. “Your technique is fine, but you punch like you’re human – I don’t care how much you think you can hold back; one of these days, you’re gonna put your fist through someone’s chest.”

“Wording aside, he’s right.” –Romanoff says. “You always punch with your fists closed – and I get it, it’s what feels natural, it’s what the movies show you, but with the amount of force you’re putting out, you need to spread out that power as much as you can.”

Kara winces. Mindless though they were, she did kill hundreds of Chitauri drones with her punches alone. Thinking about doing anything similar to a human brings back horrific memories of seeing her fellow Kryptonians slaughtered before her eyes. “So then...what should I do, Agent Barton?”

He rolls his eyes at the moniker. “Assuming you’re not ready to take a human life, your best bet’s gonna be shoving people around; with your strength, it’ll still take them out, easy, but you won’t have to worry about breaking us fragile humans too much.”

“Open palms, tackles, maybe a good roundhouse for some variety.” –Romanoff suggests. “We’ll teach you some moves next time we spar.”

He nods at her, significantly more relaxed than usual. “And one more thing: do me a favor and drop the ‘Agent Barton’ shtick, will ya? If we’re gonna do this thing, you might as well call me Clint.”

Kara smiles brightly. “Right!”

“This is beautiful.” –Rhodes says, deadpan. “But we really should get on with the mission. Clock’s ticking on your date.”

The Kryptonian rolls her eyes. “Shush, you. Let’s go over the plan again, then.”

Chapter Text

The summer storm is probably not the best omen.

Rain’s pouring down like crazy, rivulets of it flowing down Kara’s blonde locks. The suit actually keeps her somewhat dry, but...well, her hair’s a dripping mess. She touches down atop OsCorp Tower, where Spider-Man awaits, chatting up Lena under the large, black umbrella she holds.

“Hey, you two.” –she greets, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail she tries and fails to wring the rain out of.

Lena offers a small wave, while Peter practically bounces in greeting. “Hey Kara!” –he says, then his mask lenses contract, like a wince. “Yikes, you’re sopping wet.”

She frowns, trying to squeeze under Lena’s umbrella. “How come you aren’t? It’s been raining non-stop for hours.”

He shrugs. “I was, actually. But I’ve been messing around with the suit and I discovered it has a built-in heating function. Lena helped me figure out how to activate it, and I dried up super quick!”

“I...don’t think mine does that.” –she says, morosely.

Lena smirks. “Well, it stands to reason. You’re an adult, Spidey’s a kid – if I were in Stark’s place, I would’ve stuffed his suit full of goodies, too. Including, apparently, a fully-functional, portable AI.”

“Oh yeah, I have a suit lady!”

Kara blinks. “...’suit lady’.”

Peter raps his knuckles against his temple. “Yeah, we figured out I have a friend up here – I guess JARVIS has a little sister, now. We called her Karen.” –he says, a smile in his voice. “She says ‘hi’, by the way.”

The Kryptonian waves back, absent-minded. “I was unaware Stark’s AI were so advanced. One might even consider them sentient...” –Lena notes. “I wonder, what would the ethics commissions say?”

Kara snorts. “They’re already on his case, aren’t they?”

“Yes, well. Blowing up half the Middle East in some misguided crusade to bring peace to the region will do that, won’t it?” –she says, sarcastic. “Results – and long term ramifications – aside, don’t you wonder how many lives he took in achieving them? To say nothing of the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, of course, or Doctor Banner’s unfortunate alter ego...”

“They’re good people, Lena.” –she defends.

“They’re killers, Kara. Many times over, each and every one of them.” –she says. “We can argue about the ethics of taking those lives all day long, but the fact remains that every Avenger has blood on their hands.”

She winces. “Not me. I wouldn’t.”

“Not yet.”

Kara frowns. “Why are you being a jerk about this?”

Lena crosses her arms, clearly worried. “Can you blame me? Kara, you used to be something of an idealist when I met you. ‘No problem that couldn’t be talked through’, you used to say. And now I see you on TV, punching first, asking questions maybe, and well.” –she says, pursing her lips. “It’s about as jarring for me as the thought of me performing illegal human experimentation was to you.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” –Kara says, darkly. “I’m not a pacifist, Lena. I never have been. If I’d been able to fight when Krypton fell – to keep the people I loved from dying, even at the expense of taking a life – I would’ve. Fear kept me from doing it here on Earth, even though I’ve had these abilities ever since I arrived, but I’m done letting fear control me. I won’t kill, not if I can help it – but I will fight to protect humanity.”

Lena sighs. “I understand. I don’t necessarily agree with it, but...I’m not here to berate your life choices. My step-father certainly has that covered.” –she says, chagrined. “I’m just worried about you, Kara. The threats the Avengers are expected to take on...strongest woman on Earth or not, you could get hurt. Or worse.”

The blonde can’t help the small, smug smirk that comes to her. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

“I hope you are.” –she says. “Both of you, for all our sakes. God knows the bad guys just keep popping up.” –she shakes her head. “Speaking of which, we should head inside, see what we’re dealing with.”

“What are you expecting?” –Kara raises an eyebrow.

“Hopefully, a breezy trip to my office and then into the lower levels.” –she says, though she doesn’t exactly sound very hopeful. “Peter can stand guard out here. Should be...safer.” –she says vaguely.

Peter sputters a response. “W-what do you mean? Who’s Peter?”

Lena gives him a withering look. “You went missing and were subsequently found near the restricted area where the spider who gave you your powers was being developed while on a school trip, your girlfriend is an OsCorp intern, and I used to share a lab with your parents – who never shut up about you, by the way.” –she lists off. “Kara may have blindsided me with the whole ‘human experimentation’ part, but putting the pieces together was easy enough after that.”

“Gwen and I aren’t together yet!” –he says, embarrassed. Kara facepalms, as he tilts his head. “Wait, you knew my parents?”

Lena and Kara share a tired look. “Really had to bring the fifteen year-old on the potentially lethal Avengers mission, huh?” –the ravenette says.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have if you’d told me it could be that dangerous.” –Kara narrows her eyes.

“Hey, I’m a lot tougher than I look.” –Peter says, indignant.

Both women give him the evil eyes, and he whimpers into silence. Lena purses her lips. “I assume more of your teammates are nearby?” –she asks.

Kara nods. “All on stand-by. War Machine and Iron Man have the skies, and the rest will come in on my go.”

Lena winces. “This could turn ugly really fast.”

“True, but if it does, you’ll be glad to have the whole team around.” –Kara argues. “Now, what is it you found?”

Lena motions for them to follow inside. “An organization named Project Centipede.” –she says. “Not their main lab, I assume, but still, a big one. And they just had a major breakthrough.”

The trio slowly make their way to the elevator, careful not to miss any potential ambushes. “You were right on the money, when you first came to visit.” –Lena admits. “Someone at OsCorp is desperately trying to reproduce the effects of the Super Soldier Serum. This goes far beyond the usual attempt at creating super soldiers, though.” –she explains, swiping her ID card and activating the elevator. “It seems that, over the years, an underground branch of OsCorp has attempted to gain the military’s favor through several projects – VTOL prototypes, experimental exoskeletons, particle blasters, plasma grenades...you name it, they’ve probably tried it. Mind you, most of these projects have ended in failure, or been deemed unfeasibly expensive, even for the US military’s seemingly unending cash reserves.”

Kara hums. “They’re not just creating the super soldier army – they’re equipping it.” –she surmises.

“Trying to, at any rate.” –she says. “There’s only so much they can do with funding discrete enough for the board not to notice, and a lack of viable test subjects for their inventions. The latter problem they’ve almost solved, however.” –she says, dismayed. The elevator doors open, and they all make a beeline for Lena’s office. Kara worriedly notes that she hasn’t seen a single OsCorp employee yet – not even a janitor, or a security guard.

“The Chitauri invasion was devastating, of course, but it also brought along a treasure trove of new, highly advanced technology. I imagine the black markets are filling up with alien weaponry and other such parafernalia.”

Kara grimly nods. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has been working around the clock to keep the worst of it out of the wrong hands.”

Lena makes a funny face at that, but doesn’t comment. She presses her card against the wall beside her office’s doors, but nothing happens. She huffs, annoyed. “Either of you fancy destroying some private property?”

“Honor’s all mine.” –Supergirl smirks, punching through the thick, bulletproof crystal. It might as well not have been there, for all the resistance it put up. Kara doesn’t miss the enthralled look Lena briefly has at her display of power.

“This is awesome.” –Peter says, giddy.

“Between your first visit and now, should I be worried that your sidekick has clearly developed a taste for wanton destruction?” –Lena asks, sarcastic.

“Spider-Man’s his own hero.” –Kara chides, though Peter doesn’t exactly look put off by the idea of becoming her sidekick. “Besides, breaking stuff is fun! You should try it sometime.”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Anyway, as I was saying, OsCorp’s branch in the Centipede project have unfortunately obtained a key sample of Chitauri technology. As I understand it, they’ve taken to stripping the aliens’ corpses of two components: a neural link, and something they call a ‘techno-organic fluid regulator’.”

Kara frowns. “I’m guessing it has something to do with how the Chitauri stay alive through all the cybernetic enhancements.”

“No kidding. Those guys were more machine than men. Well, alien...gorilla...lizard men, I guess.” –Peter says, clearly unsettled.

Lena approaches her desk, then kneels behind it. “How the heck did you figure all of this out, Lena?”

The raven-haired woman rises, smiling wickedly. She holds a somewhat flattened, segmented cylindrical object about the size of her forearm, filled with a strange, green-ish orange fluid. “I may or may not have broken into their lab yesterday.” –she says, triumphant.

Kara gasps, outraged. “You what? Lena, what were you thinking!? I thought you’d just found some files, or something!”

“I told you I’d get to the bottom of it, didn’t I? Those bastards thought they could get away with all this crap right under my nose. I wanted to see how bad it was for myself, before I called anything in.” –she says, hotly. “So I cleared out the building. Staged a company-wide contaminant breach – which I can’t imagine the Board will be too happy about – and checked things out for myself.”

Kara starts pacing in disbelief. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Lena! They could’ve killed you!” –Kara says, anguished.

“All of it true.” –Lena admits, then shakes the container in her hand. “And yet, here I am, holding their sole viable dose of Centipede serum.”

Kara balks. “You took that from them!?”

“If I hadn’t, their first prototype would probably be out there already, wreaking havoc.” –Lena defiantly states. “Their prototype was meant to be infused with the serum today, Kara. They would’ve struck while you all were out of town – but without this, they couldn’t do a thing.”

“Wait, they knew we’d be gone?” –Kara asks, bewildered.

“Uh...guys, should we be worried about that?” –Peter asks, pointing behind Lena. Kara walks past the other woman, staring out into the stormy night. Ahead, above the other high-rises, Kara could make out a series of small explosions illuminating the night’s sky. “Rhodes...” –Kara mutters.

“And Mr. Stark, too.” –Peter says, his mask’s lenses squinting, presumably zooming in on the action. “They’re getting attacked by something.”

“A lot of somethings.” –Lena notes.

Kara taps the comm in her ear. “Rhodes, you there?”

There’s no response – not even a hint of static. “My comm’s dead. What’s Karen telling you, Peter?”

Spider-Man hums for a second, as if listening to his companion speak, then his eyes widen all the way. “MOVE!” –he yells, shooting a web at Lena and pulling her back. Kara barely has a moment to turn back towards the window, before a bright light – a missile, she realizes much too late – slams through the window and into her, instantly exploding.

Kara shakes her head and rises from under the pile of rubble that had once been Lena’s office. What she sees makes her blood run cold; a looming, armored figure appears to be pointing a minigun at Peter and Lena.

“You...you’re supposed to be dead.” –Kara says, shocked. The helmet is a little different, and the armor’s gotten a green and silver paint job, but there’s no mistaking it: before her stands Iron Man’s first superpowered enemy, Obadiah Stane’s Iron Monger.

The figure turns, eerily familiar glowing eyes staring her down. “Stane is.” –the reborn supervillain says, turning the spinning gatling gun towards her. “But he had some good ideas.”

He fires, a stream of hot lead forcing her to stumble backwards. She manages to put up a hand, covering her face, and lines up a shot, immediately setting the minigun ablaze with her heat vision.

The armor’s pilot stares at the semi-molten piece of slag mounted on his forearm and growls, lunging toward her with a monstrously powerful punch. Kara crosses her arms and blocks it, but still feels the sting – the blow is at least as powerful as Hulk’s earlier punches.

Peter joins the fray then, jumping onto the man’s back and pulling back his mechanical arms with webbing. Kara spares a moment to marvel at the young hero’s prodigious strength, then tackles the massive silver-green armature, pushing all three of them through the hole in the exterior crystal, rendering them all airborn. She pulls back, floating just ahead of the gaping hole in OsCorp Tower, yelping when one of Spidey’s webs catches her hand. She pulls on it, hard, making Peter fly way past her.

Smirking as the teen lowers himself to her level, dangling upside down from one of his webs, Kara looks around for the new Iron Monger, but doesn’t find any sign of him. In the distance, the aerial battle has only intensified. “Was that who I think it was?” –Peter asks, shaken.

“No doubt about it.” –Kara confirms, dismayed. “Someone’s recreated Stane’s armor.”

“Improved upon it, too.” –Lena says, behind them. Kara looks her over, but aside from a small cut on her left eyebrow, she seems fine. “I don’t know if you noticed, but your punches didn’t even dent the metal.”

“The reactor in his chest was blue.” –Peter notes. “Not white, like Iron Man’s.”

Kara frowns. “Let’s get you out of here, Lena.” –Kara says, then turns to Peter. “Can you get her to the Tower?”

Peter doesn’t get a chance to respond, as the sound of crushed wood, glass, and metal erupts behind Lena. The villain has returned, emerging from the demolished elevator shaft. “Miss Luthor can’t leave just yet. She’s got something that belongs to us.” –he claims. “Hand over the Serum. Now.”

Kara bares her teeth, and charges forward. “Get her out of here, Spider-Man!” –she yells, just before she makes contact with the supervillain. The reforged Iron Monger screeches backward, but doesn’t topple over, bringing both massive fists down on her back and driving her halfway through the floor. He then jumps, intending to crush her under his feet, but she flies upward, smashing him against the ceiling. Unfortunately, that puts him near an exposed support beam, which he yanks loose and uses to bat her into the jagged hole where the elevator used to be. She floats out, but he then follows up with a handful of rounds from the grenade launcher mounted on his left wrist, which cause her to tumble onto the floor.

Clearly annoyed, the Iron Monger tries to bring the metal beam down on her head, but she manages to catch it, using her heat vision to slice it off his hands. He punches her as she tosses the beam away, but the blow merely stings a little. She then dodges a second punch, hooking her arm around the shoulder joint and pulling him down, hard – so hard, in fact, that she tosses him cleanly through two entire floors.

Wasting no time, Kara jumps down the hole, landing in front of the struggling behemoth. She kicks at its knee, but it doesn’t warp or bend – but this time, she does notice that a cyan energy film covers the armor, flaring up with major hits. Frustrated, she winds up her arm and punches, sending the man hurtling into a nearby wall, then charges forward and drives him through, for good measure.

The man groans, but his armor remains unscathed. He sluggishly rises, laughing as he takes in her clenched fists and fighting stance. “It’s no good, is it?” –he taunts. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Supergirl: this armor got the ‘Phase 2’ treatment. S.H.I.E.L.D. infused its core with the Tesseract’s energy – infinite energy, I’m told – so you won’t break through its defenses anytime soon.” –he explains. “Seems like the Girl of Steel can’t beat good ol’ titanium. But I can’t beat you either, I’ll give you that.”

Kara purses her lips, cautiously dropping her stance. “Truce, then. You said you’re not Stane, so...who are you?”

The hulking mech mirrors her relaxed pose. “Just a merc, Supergirl. The name doesn’t matter. All you need to know is Centipede pays very well – and I gotta admit, this thing is fun.”

“You stole the armor?”

The man hums – which comes out more like a rumble, over the armor’s speakers. “Wasn’t stolen. Salvaged, from the wreckage of Project Pegasus. Repaired, upgraded...shit, I don’t know. I’m just the guy the pay to kill people with it. The ‘Titanium Man’, they call it. They’re no Iron Man fans, I’ll tell you that.”

Kara snorts. “Too good for Iron Monger, huh?”

“Personally, I think they’re both dumb as shit. But Centipede respects Stane’s legacy. Guess he did a lot for ‘em.”

Kara frowns. “Stane died two years ago. How exactly did he help you guys?”

“Beats me. Hazard a guess, though? Funding. Centipede’s been decades in the making, Supergirl. That requires serious cash. Stane sold StarkTech to the black market, you do the math. The experiments, the gear, the muscle – that’s me – Stane’s under-the-table sales probably paid for a lot of it.”

“Pay for the distraction outside, too?”

He chuckles. “Didn’t you hear? Justin Hammer got put on house arrest a few days ago.”

Kara scowls. “Well, I guess I appreciate the honesty.”

Titanium Man shrugs. “Centipede’s going public. Probably don’t even need the serum Miss Luthor stole. It’s their best cocktail, sure, but they have a lot of other options ready to go, all over the world. I could walk away from this fight and nothing about what’s coming next would change.”

“Well, why fight, then?”

“Like I said, the money’s good.” –he says, then looms forward. “I like you, though, so I’ll tell you this: I might not be on the right side of this fight, but I am on the side that’s going to survive. Everyone’s a target, Supergirl – your friends, your families...everyone you love. Get in Centipede’s way, and they’re as good as dead. So, it doesn’t matter what I believe. I’ve got a job to do.”

Much faster than she’d imagine the lumbering armature moving, he traps her between his hands. She grunts, struggling to break free – and, mighty as the armor is, it’s no match for her strength, the hydraulics groaning under the stress – but he merely chuckles. “I doubt this’ll kill you, but the eggheads have faith.” –he says, the reactor on his chest whining with pooling power. “Let’s see if the power of the Tesseract can’t beat a Kryptonian.”

Kara barely has enough time to wonder how anyone outside the Avengers could know what a Kryptonian is, before Titanium Man’s chest bursts with blinding energy, and her world goes dark.

Chapter Text

Kara awakens to pouring rain and War Machine tapping on her forehead.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” –Rhodey says, relief palpable even through the armor’s speakers.

She groans as she rises, looking around the place she landed. She’s on what remains of the top floor of an office building near OsCorp Tower – empty, thankfully, but utterly destroyed by the crash. Her uniform’s in tatters, too, especially around her midsection, where the beam hit – her abs are completely exposed, unharmed but covered in soot, and her skirt is nowhere to be found, the rest of the suit torn and singed in places.

Lena will get a kick out of this, probably – she used to laugh every time Kara complained that the girls in the anime shows they watched seemed to lose their clothing entirely at random. She fastens the bottom of her cape around her midriff, sort of like a Greek chiton. “Thanks, Rhodey.” –she says. “How long was I out?”

He hums. “Couple minutes, if that. I would’ve tried to catch you, but the killer robots got in the way.” –he says, nudging the broken remains of a HAMMER Industries drone with one of his jet boots. “Plus, you got struck by lightning in midair. Terrifying, but...kinda cool.”

She blinks. “I’m sorry, what?”

“JARVIS says you got polarized by the beam.” –he shrugs. “Doesn’t seem to have affected you much, though.”

“Yeah, well, I guess the Tesseract was more than enough.” –she says. “That thing packs a wallop, geez.”

“Tesseract? Like...the cube Loki opened the portal with?”

She nods. “The energy of it, at least. I was struck with a beam shot from the reactor core of a S.H.I.E.L.D.-upgraded version of Obadiah Stane’s armor.” –she explains. “Some merc is piloting it on behalf of Centipede, hunting Lena because she stole a viable sample of their Super Soldier Serum.”

“Jesus. Tony’s gonna be thrilled about that one.” –War Machine groans, long-suffering. “Y’know, the Air Force was a lot simpler than whatever this is.”

Kara’s suddenly very glad Lena isn’t around to bring up the laundry list of issues with the US Military-Industrial complex. “It’s Avengers business, Rhodey. Better get used to it.” –she snarks. “Help me take down Titanium Man?”

A squadron of drones zip by them, followed very closely by Iron Man. Even through the storm, Kara can hear Tony ranting about Justin Hammer. “We’ll catch up with you once these guys are dealt with.” –he promises. “I’ll radio in S.H.I.E.L.D. for reinforcements, too.”

“No, don’t.” –Kara finds herself saying. She winces. “Something isn’t adding up with S.H.I.E.L.D.; first their convoys get attacked, now we find out they reverse-engineered Tony’s armor tech and combined it with the Tesseract’s energy? And let it get stolen? I think Fury and his goons know a little more than they’re letting on.” –she says.

Rhodey hums, a little disconcerted. “Right...well, be careful, then. We’ll be there ASAP.”

“Roger that.” –she says. “Godspeed, Colonel.”

All things considered, the damage from their brief fight doesn’t look too bad; only about half a dozen floors around Lena’s office could be considered as destroyed, and none of them are on fire, thankfully. She flies in through the massive hole she left in her wake, finding the place empty, as expected. She then makes her way to what remains of the CEO’s office. Again, no one.

Kara purses her lips; clearly, Centipede expected their little excursion – maybe they did hack into her conversation with Lena, somehow. Then again, it’s looking increasingly likely that S.H.I.E.L.D. has some leaks to plug – which she can only hope Alex has nothing to do with. In any case, Centipede expected her to come, but...they weren’t ready for her, were they? Kara’s willing to bet that Titanium Man’s Tesseract-boosted Unibeam – say that three times fast – was his trump card, and the worst it managed to do was knock the wind out of her and ruin yet another suit. The prospect of an extended fight isn’t looking good for them, which only makes her wonder how they expect to win this conflict.

The noise of the storm outside lessens, somewhat, which lets her realize that a firefight is going on far below her; she plunges into the empty space in the middle of OsCorp Tower, trying to assess the situation. OsCorp’s lobby once again hosts something of a battlefield, though this time, the bullets aren’t filled with fancy paint, and the costumed heroes have a little more in the way of experience. The Avengers have been busy; well over a dozen bodies are strewn about the floor, both living and dead, defeated by the more...down to Earth trio of Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Captain America. The mercs don’t seem to be much of a challenge to them, except for one in particular – a woman wielding a pair of electrified whips, seemingly derived from the ones used against Tony by Ivan Vanko, keeping Steve at bay with quick, accurate lashes of her unpredictable energy weapons. She’s lightly armored, including a simple faceplate shaped like a downwards pointed chevron, a chestplate, an armored shoulder pauldron on her left arm, gauntlets and greaves, all colored a blue-ish shade of silver.

First Stane’s armor, and now this? Kara’s beginning to sense a theme, here.

She dives in, grabbing a surprised merc by the ammo harness on their chest, and throwing them at the Whiplash successor. She manages to dive to the side, demonstrating somewhat superhuman reflexes and agility, lashing out in turn with one of her whips. Kara actually manages to catch it, but it proves to be a fool-hardy move; Whiplash 2.0 supercharges the whip and a surge of electricity courses through her body, making her cry out in pain.

Fortunately for Kara, Steve takes quick advantage of the situation, using his shield to cut through the tensed cable, sawing off one of the villain’s whips. The current ceases, leaving Kara panting as the Avengers finish the villain off, quickly becoming encased in quickly hardening foam by one of Hawkeye’s trick arrows, and knocked out by a roundhouse kick from Widow. Cap then throws his shield, somehow bouncing it off all three of the remaining mercs’ heads.

“You ok?” –he asks her, easily catching the massive discus.

She rolls her shoulder, her muscles still feeling the burn from the zap. “I’m fine. Electrocution hurts, but it won’t kill me.” –she says. “Kinda took the wind out of my sails, though.”

He smirks. “Happens to the best of us.” –he says. Outside, various emergency vehicles have gathered – she can see everything from SWAT vans to ambulances. Steve follows her gaze and nods. “I’ll handle the authorities. Hawkeye and Widow, secure the area, prep the wounded for treatment.”

“I’ll find Titanium Man.” –Supergirl says, scowling. “We’ve got a score to settle.”

“Just keep your focus, Kara. Don’t make it easy for them to catch you off-balance.” –he advises, then winces. “’Titanium Man’, huh? Stark’s gonna love that.”

Kara snorts. “So I keep hearing.” –she says, sarcastic. “Any idea where they went?”

“Down the chute.” –Widow says, pointing her thumb at the elevator. Kara hadn’t noticed, but there’s a hole where the elevator doors used to be – the kind a massive suit of power armor might’ve left behind, trying to catch up with Peter and Lena.

“Right...” –she mutters. “Well, here goes nothing.”

Supergirl dives into the opening, powering through a mess of concrete, plexiglas, and aluminum. Down at the bottom, the mangled remains of the elevator lead to another set of broken doors, which she flies through – and almost immediately gets shot by a mercenary. The woman’s reflexes must be commended, but the bullets, of course, bounce harmlessly off her chest. Kara takes advantage of the momentary confusion to dive forward, yanking the assault rifle out of her hands with one hand and pushing the merc away with an open palm to the solar plexus. The power behind the strike is minimal, but she still hears the distinctive crunch of fractured bones, as the soldier bounces off a nearby wall and onto the floor, groaning in pain.

Kara winces, but continues on, following the imprint of Titanium Man’s massive footsteps into a sort of...tram station, a jarring find beneath the high tech obsidian monolith that is OsCorp. The tram leads north, and it’s protected by about twenty of the same kind of generic mercs from before, all of whom immediately point their weapons at her.

“Um...hi.” –she waves. “So, those don’t really work on me. Like, at all. Why don’t I save you guys the ammo and instead you just tell me what’s going on here?”

The apparent leader, a grizzled man in his late fifties or early sixties, derisively curls his lip at her. “Cross her off, boys.”

Supergirl crosses her arms, resigned, as a hail of bullets harmlessly bounces off of her. After a few seconds, they all run out, and she shakes her head, disappointed. “See what I mean?” –she says, calmly walking towards them. “There’s literally nothing you can do to me that I’ll even feel, so just drop your weapons and answer my questions.”

Desperate, the leader yells. “Light her up, dammit!”

Ever dutiful, the squad shoots her again. Kara keeps walking, unfazed. “What is she, the fucking Terminator!?” –one of the mercs fearfully asks as he depletes his ammo.

“Guys, come on!” –she says, pitying. “Did they even tell you you’d be fighting the Avengers? Even the non-bulletproof ones would kick your asses.”

The leader lowers his weapon. “Wait a fucking minutes. You’re an Avenger?” –he asks, genuinely surprised.

“Geez. Out of the loop, much? I’ve been on the team for a while, now.”

He scowls. “Centipede’s fucking everywhere, Avenger.  They pulled me from Vienna, García’s posted in Morelia, Smith and Morgan were brought in from Austin, and the techie back there is stationed in Los Angeles.” –he says, pointing to a timid younger woman, half-hidden at the tram’s controls. “Shit-ton of labs and secret little compounds everywhere, you get the idea.”

“Uh...should we be telling her this, boss?” –the tech expert asks.

The guy shrugs. “Fuck it, Mary, they ain’t paying us enough for this, anyway.” –he says.

Kara raises an eyebrow. “So, what’s the mission here?”

“Four squads, complement of Enhanced. Breach OsCorp, grab an alien device from the CEO’s office. Shouldn’t be any opposition, the place was supposed to have been closed for inspection or some shit.” –he grumbles. “Of course, then the freak in the spider costume and that hot brunette took the serum and ran, so we had to play catch-up.”

Kara scowls. “And the Enhanced?”

He grunts in disgust. “Couple of nutjobs, you ask me. The chick with the whips, she’s doped up with one of their serums. Fucking liability, honestly – they say the juice makes you go nuts after a while, so I’m glad she wasn’t assigned to my squad. Then again, we got sidled with the lazy jackass in the powered armor, so maybe they’re the lucky ones.”

Well, none of you are dead, so probably not, she thinks. “Then...you didn’t know we’d be here?” –she surmises.

“Would’ve brought some heavier shit if we had, so...no.”

Kara hums. “Well, thanks for the info. You guys are surprisingly talkative.” –she says, then charges forward, straight into their loose formation. It’s a bit of a slaughter, to be honest – no one dies, but they’re all just scared, baseline humans. It doesn’t matter whether they shoot or punch her; to her, it’s all the same – which is to say, completely harmless.

The only person left conscious is the techie, cowering beneath the tram’s controls. “Oh God, please don’t kill me! I’m on your side!” –she pleads.

Kara crosses her arms. “I don’t kill.” –she states. “Your squadmates are just unconscious. What do you mean, you’re on my side, Mary?”

“Mary? Oh, the alias. Well, it used to be my name, back in the orphanage. No, call me Skye.” –she says, less terrified but still nervous, rambling. “I really am on your side. We have a mutual friend in Daredevil.” –she explains.

The Kryptonian’s eyes widen in surprise. “You’re the hacker he mentioned?”

She scrunches her nose at that. “I prefer the word hacktivist, but yeah! I’m, uh...her. Matt asked me to look into Centipede a while back, which led me to one of their labs in L.A., which I, um...infiltrated.”

Kara shakes her head. “You infiltrated Centipede? Do you guys not get that these people are extremely dangerous?”

“Hey, we all have our talents, alright? I know I don’t look like much, but I can fake any ID and sell some fake interest in fascist ideology with the best of them.” –she says, defensive. “Besides, I’m not the one planning battle dates over Twitter.”

The blonde blushes madly. “How do you know about that?”

Skye winces. “I sort of...maybe...tried to find some dirt on all of the Avengers?”

Kara narrows her eyes. “...yeah, you’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”

“Look, I’ll tell you on the way.” –she compromises. “You do want to catch up to Lena and Spidey, right?”

“Fine.” –Kara says. “But you better have a good reason for reading my DM’s, hacktivist.”

Chapter Text

Skye is chatty when she’s nervous – which Kara would be perfectly fine with, if not for the fact that this isn’t exactly the time for talking. Every minute that passes is a minute she might be too late to save Lena from Titanium Man – and it’s not like she doesn’t trust Peter to protect her, but this is a supervillain, a foe on the same playing field as most of the Avengers, a much bigger ask than the criminals he’s used to dealing with. She’s so worried she vocally considers leaving Skye behind, or giving her a flying piggyback ride, but Skye tells her in no uncertain terms that it’s impossible – the tunnel is rigged to blow if anything larger than a stray rat passes through the threshold unauthorized. Kara’s confident she could just punch her way through the potential wreckage, but Skye raises a very good point: an explosion of that magnitude could cause catastrophic damage to the city above.

So, mad scientist tram it is.

The hacktivist, at least, is an easy person to like. She’s got a bit of a motor-mouth going on, but from what Kara can parse, she’s something of a vagabond, spit out by the foster care system through no real fault of her own, other than her obsession with finding out about her origins – which, in fact, led her to developing her skills as a hacker, eventually joining the Rising Tide, a ‘computer activism’ group dedicated to exposing government secrets. Kara’s heard the name before; the Rising Tide has been a thorn on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s side for years now, because they keep trying to unveil the evidence of superhuman activity Fury’s agency tries so hard to keep on the down low. Everybody knows that people with powers exist, of course – hard to miss the mutant boom of the sixties and seventies, or the (sporadic but very much public) costumed heroes that have been a staple of American culture ever since Steve Rogers became Captain America – but S.H.I.E.L.D.’s intention, right up until the Avengers became a thing, had always been to downplay the phenomenon.

All that being said, Skye is very much a fan of superheroes – she may have no powers or physical training of her own, but she does identify with that je ne sais quoi that prompts a person to, upon seeing injustices committed, put their life at risk in order to right those wrongs. She’s a huge Iron Man fan, particularly, even taking a break from a life on the move, in constant skirting of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s watchful eye, to put together an Iron Man cosplay for a contest at Stark Tower last year. She didn’t win – it was, in her own words ‘kind of shitty’ – but Tony gave her a participation award, still proudly displayed in the van she lives in.

“I’m just about done.” –she says, furiously typing away at her aging laptop. “We’ll still need to ride the tram, but at least the system will let us pass without blowing up.”

“Did the mercs not have permission?”

Skye shakes her head. “This was kind of a rushed op. It’s a pretty thorough ID system – facial recognition, monitored biometrics, the works – so it’s not exactly easy or quick to add new entries into the guest list. I’m not even going that far with us, just fooling the system into believing the tram is empty.”

Kara hums. “Smart. We can bring back Lena and Spider-Man if necessary that way. Though...I don’t get how they got through in the first place.”

She points to an ID scanner. “Miss Luthor apparently has Norman Osborn’s clearance and overrides. Probably an oversight, honestly – there was no reason to believe she would’ve found out about this place on her own – but it would’ve gotten her and Spidey through. Maybe eve Titanium Man too, if he was quick and careful enough. Really, I’m just surprised she was able to pull the same trick twice in one day. Centipede must have some shoddy IT guys.”

The tram comes to life, finally, and Skye invites her aboard. Kara obliges, crossing her arms with worry. “So, how did you end up with Centipede, anyway?” –she asks, as the trip begins.

“Well, I found Matt first.” –she says. “I guess you could say the Rising Tide ‘assigned’ me to his case, a couple years back. You know how he can be – brutal, just shy of deadly. We thought he might’ve been a S.H.I.E.L.D. operative of some kind, especially when he started battling some of the more...esoteric criminal groups in New York.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “’Esoteric’?”

“I’m talking undead ninjas and dragon bone trafficking.” –Skye says, deadpan.

The Kryptonian purses her lips. “Right.”

“Anyway, once I dug up everything I could on him, it was pretty clear he wasn’t in cahoots with the suits.” –she says, sounding all too proud about her rhyme. “I got in touch with him and offered to help him out whenever he needed my particular talents. I, um...obscured his info from the Tide, too. As necessary as it is to expose the shady shit our governments get up to, sometimes putting information out there can hurt the wrong people. I’m not about that.”

“So why dig up stuff on the Avengers? That could put us in danger, too.”

Skye winces. “Well, for one, there’s never been anything like you, Supergirl. A whole-ass team, y’know? One with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s seal of approval, no less.”

Kara shrugs. “Never been anything like the Chitauri, either.”

“True, true. Desperate times, desperate measures. I get that. And trust me, we’re all grateful not to be alien chow, or whatever they wanted us for. It’s just...no one expected the Avengers to be a permanent sort of deal. Teaming up once, that’s a miracle. Twice is a plan.” –she gives her a meaningful look. “I know your intentions are good. Maybe I’m a little suspicious of the S.H.I.E.L.D. spooks on your team, but you’ve got Captain America, Nazi hunter extraordinaire, as a team leader. I don’t expect you to turn your mightiness against us, but you gotta realize you guys are, like, gods. I think it’s fair to worry about what you’ll be doing going forward.”

“We don’t really have a mission statement. All we want to do is protect people from crises like the Chitauri invasion.”

Skye raises her palms. “Hey, I believe you. But there’s a lot of people out there you’ll need to convince.”

Kara sighs. “I guess so.”

The silence that follows is uncomfortable – even the tram makes little sound, making use of a fairly impressive maglev system that hits Kara with a pang of longing for the technology of her doomed world. Before Kara can think to break it, though, Skye’s curiosity gets the better of her. “So, um...how does one get abs like yours?”

Kara snorts. “What?”

“Dude, you’re cut.” –Skye says, blushing, nodding at her exposed abdomen. “Do you exercise, or are you just naturally buff?”

She chuckles, a little embarrassed. “No, I can’t really claim credit for them. These just...happened.” –she says. “Probably some side effect of my powers, since I’ve never gone to a gym. Not that it would do me much good; human exercise equipment can’t keep up with me. If I try to lift weights, the metal bar snaps before I can actually feel the load.”

“Humble brag, geez.”

“I mean, there has to be some limit to what I can lift.” –she says, just a little bit cocky. “I just haven’t found it yet, I guess.”

“What about Thor’s hammer?” –she asks.

Kara tilts her head. “What about it?”

“Well, the hammer’s magic, right? According to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files, only Thor can even budge it.”

Supergirl shrugs, a bit skeptical. “I couldn’t tell you, I haven’t had the pleasure yet. I’d love to give it a try, though.”

“Oh, so Thor didn’t stay?” –she asks.

Kara shakes her head. “He took Loki back to Asgard, I think. That, and the Tesseract. I haven’t asked about him much, but I doubt he’s coming back anytime soon. I could be wrong, but it seemed to me like a one-time deal, y’know?”

“That’s a bummer.” –Skye says. “He was so hot.”

The blonde snorts. “And here I thought you were into me.” –she jokes.

“Hey, I’m an equal opportunity beefcake connoisseur.” –she retorts. “I can do both.”

Kara laughs. It’s not every day that she gets this kind of praise. “Well, I appreciate it. You’re plenty cute yourself.”

“Not as much as Miss Luthor though, right?” –she asks, her eyebrows rising suggestively.

The Kryptonian groans, chagrined. “Is it really that obvious?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. sure seems to think so. She’s listed on your Index file’s admittedly very small list of potential weak points. Plus, you get this look when she comes up. Some combination of fond, annoyed, and yearning. ‘She’s a pain but I don’t know what I’d do without her’ kinda deal.”

“Yeah, well. I did do without her. Years, in fact.” –she argues, though she sounds less determined than she’d like. “She made it pretty clear that she didn’t want me around back then.”

“I think she’s made it pretty clear now that she does.” –Skye counters. “If you think about it, calling you in was the riskiest choice she could’ve made. She could’ve – should’ve, even – called in the Feds. FBI, DHS...hell, even INTERPOL, or S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re much more of a wild card. Could even ruin her career, if this goes south. Well, south-er than it already has.”

“’South-er’ isn’t a word.” –Kara grumbles.

Skye waves dismissively. “You get my point, though. She had her pick of people to ask for help and she still turned to you. I’m not much of a romantic, but even I can tell that’s not nothing, Supergirl.”

“I don’t wanna get my hopes up.” –Kara says, pained, but leaving no room for argument. “If Lena actually did the legwork...heck, maybe not even then. I’d consider it, but she had years to try, and she didn’t. I’m not holding my breath – no matter what I might feel for her.”

“Oh. I, um...I’m sorry. I have no business prying, do I?” –Skye winces. “I’ll leave it alone.”

“It’s ok, Skye. I don’t mind talking about it – even if you are kind of a complete stranger.” –Kara teases.

“Well, we might’ve just met, but I’ve known you for a while. Your file, at any rate.” –she jokes, awkward.

Kara narrows her eyes. “That’s not better.” –she says, deadpan.

The tram begins to decelerate, as they enter an older section of the tunnel – much older than the subway-like design of the tracks closer to OsCorp, looking like something out of National Treasure. Skye picks up a discarded assault rifle from the metal floor – it’s much too big for her, and from her awkward handling of the weapon, Kara would bet she’s never held a firearm in her life, much less a high-powered automatic rifle. The tram stops, though it seems like there’s even more to the tunnel ahead. “Looks like this is our stop.” –Kara says, taking point as they exit onto a deserted platform, which looks much, much more modern than the tunnel itself. “Just where are we?” –she wonders.

“Upstate a ways. A black site of sorts.” –Skye explains. “There’s a lot of quote-unquote lawful secret labs under OsCorp – projects for the US military, mostly, which Centipede isn’t. That’s more of a ‘take over the world’ sitch.”

“No guards, though?” –Kara notes.

Skye points at a sort of upside down dome above the entrance to the checkpoint. “It’s all automated security here. That’s a concealed, high-caliber sentry turret; we passed a few dozen on the ride here. Between my magic and Lena’s override, they probably won’t activate.” –she surmises. “Centipede only employs human guards at sites they can pass off as legit. A bunch of goons running to and fro a revamped Cold War bunker would draw too much attention, I guess.”

“And the scientists?”

Skye shrugs. “Skeleton crew rules, I guess. Loose lips sink ships, and all that.”

Kara hums. She taps her earpiece, but the line crackles, nonresponsive. “I wouldn’t bother.” –Skye says. “We’re too deep underground, and even if Stark’s borderline magic tech can overcome that, Titanium Man will probably intercept the signal.”

“Oh? What else do you know about the guy?”

“Well, the man under the hood is a mercenary. An older Soviet-era commando who goes by Andrew Stockwell – which, y’know, not exactly a common name back in the Motherland.” –she says, sarcastic. “He’s your typical ‘no questions asked as long as you pay me’ sort of guy. Kind of agreeable when you get to know him, but I’d bet my non-existent salary that he’s committed his fair share of war crimes. The armor’s a lot more fun to talk about, honestly.”

“Salvaged from S.H.I.E.L.D., right?”

Skye raises an eyebrow. “I see you guys had a chat. Yeah, I guess S.H.I.E.L.D. dug up the Iron Monger from the rubble of Stark Industries, deranged multi-millionaire corpse and all, and kept it for themselves.”

“Guessing they didn’t let Tony in on that little detail.” –Kara sighs.

“Got it in one.” –Skye says, sardonic. “They couldn’t figure out how to get the form factor Iron Man-sized, so they just grafted on a more durable titanium alloy to the frame and added a Tesseract-powered power core, instead. Don’t ask me the specifics, but it basically gives it an infinite energy source, so they don’t have to rely on arc reactors, unlike Iron Man.”

“Wait, really? I got close to breaking the shield, though. At least, I think I did.”

Skye shrugs. “It’s still limited by hardware. The energy conduits can only handle so much energy at once. The source is endless, but if you can punch harder than the output can cope with, you’re golden.” –she says.

“Huh.” –Kara mutters, as they come upon a reinforced blast door, a biometric scanner off to the side. Skye inspects it for a moment, before declaring it’d be quicker if Kara just forced the lock. She gently overpowers the mechanism, opening it for them. “Y’know, you know a lot more about Titanium Man than I expected.”

“Well, I spent a good couple weeks getting cozy with the suit.” –she jokes. “Centipede recruited me for cyberwarfare, but they let me stay because I managed to whip up a quick OS to run the armor’s more advanced functions. S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t gotten that far yet – honestly, it’s a miracle that Stane wasn’t crushed inside that thing the minute he tried to move it. The Iron Monger’s OS was as barebones as it comes, totally rushed and unfinished. The more finalized functions were cannibalized from the Jericho missile platform, which helped with the flying and targeting systems, but moving the damn thing? The code was all buggy, and totally unfinished. I had to pilfer and reconfigure the proprietary code from the Air Force’s database, which they scavenged from the suit they and HAMMER Industries turned into the War Machine.”

It’s something of a long winded explanation, which serves as a way to pass the time as they cautiously walk into the facility. The place is kinda cramped, a series of narrow corridors, all a fairly sterile white and silver, leading to either a) more passageways, or b) small laboratories. At least the place is easy to navigate with clearly indicated room marquees and maps on every level. They’ve gone down a couple floors by the time Skye’s done explaining about the armor.

“I know the merc you were under said otherwise, but I have to believe Centipede knew we were coming.” –Kara mutters, shaking her head. “The girl with the whips, Titanium Man, the HAMMER drones outside...I get wanting to make sure you secure the Serum no matter what, but this is just overkill.”

“If it helps at all, the order to include the superpowered units came from the top. Last second, too.” –Skye says. “If they figured out you were coming, it was a close thing.”

“The problem isn’t when, it’s how.” –Kara says, worriedly. “I trust the Avengers with my life, but I think someone close to us might be leaking information to our enemies.”

The third level opens up to a larger chamber – testing grounds of some kind – which makes Kara’s stomach drop. The ceiling has caved in, and judging by the rain pouring in through the gaping hole, it goes all the way up to the surface. The place has been trashed, covered in high caliber bullet holes, scorched grenade launcher craters, and Spider-Man’s webbing. Fortunately, there isn’t any blood that she can find, but it’s clear that Titanium Man has caught up to Lena and Peter.

“You ok? Your eyes are, um...glowing.” –Skye asks.

Kara takes a deep breath. “Fine.” –she says, though she doesn’t mean it. She’s so worried that she almost misses the crackle of her comms. “Supergirl here.”

“Kara? Where are you? What’s the situation?” –Rogers’ voice asks.

“I’m a few kilometers outside the city. Took the tram at the basement, tracking down Lena and Spider-Man. It looks like Centipede’s beat us to them, too.” –she tries to explain as succinctly as possible.

“Roger. Got your location. Hold tight, reinforcements en route.”

Kara purses her lips. “Gonna have to defy those orders, Captain. I can’t let them get hurt. Catch up when you can.”

After a pause, Steve clicks the comlink twice for ‘acknowledged’. The pair jog through the battlefield, following the trail of destruction. There are several monitoring stations surrounding the arena, but the fight goes through yet another corridor. Kara’s hearing almost immediately picks up sounds of battle ahead. The blonde turns. “Keep yourself safe. I’m going straight at him.”

Skye nods. “I’ll look for the server farm. Should be close by.”

“Holler if you need me.” –she says, giving her the radio frequency they’re using.

Supergirl then floats, and putting her fists before her, flies straight towards the action, punching through two walls and a broken but very much present reinforced blast door. She barely has time to take in the scene – an underground VTOL platform of sorts, upon which Titanium Man and Spidey are duking it out, Lena nowhere to be seen – adjusting her trajectory just enough to slam into Titanium Man, Peter barely leaping away in time, her knuckles stung by the flaring energy barrier, taking him off the platform and straight into a concrete wall. The mercenary groans in pain, even with all his protection, but manages to backhand her away. Kara’s not messing around this time, though – mid-air, she rights herself up, and slams her shoulder against the armored supervillain once more. The barrier flares even brighter.

“Where is she!?” –she roars, her eyes blazing with fury.

Titanium Man chuckles, and points behind her and to the side. Kara turns, and her eyes glow, even hotter, seeing Peter kneeling over an unconscious Lena. She’s bleeding profusely from the head – something to be expected, the logical part of Kara tries to pipe up, but all she can see is Lena, hurt.

The mercenary grabs her, then, with both mechanical hands, and starts squeezing, but Kara’s having none of it. With little effort, she overpowers the armor’s hydraulics, and kicks at his midsection, freeing herself. She then grabs one of his arms, and pulls him out of the wrecked concrete wall, slamming him down on the platform, careful not to rain debris on her friends. Titanium Man tries to swipe at her with his free hand, but she slaps the massive arm away, and begins punching at his solar plexus, once, thrice, fifteen times, time slowing down just as it did in her fight with the Hulk. The energy shield burns at her fists – not in a physical way, as she remains unharmed, rather more like every hit she delivers chips away at the Tesseract’s power, clinging to her.

According to Karen’s monitoring, as perceived through Spidey’s lens, it takes one-hundred and seventeen blows for the barrier to break. It does so explosively, pushing Kara away and causing Peter to protectively hunch over Lena’s prone form. In a final bid, the armor’s core glows, trying to blast her again, but she moves out of the way in time, the beam carving a hole in the ceiling that lets the thunderstorm inside.

Undeterred, Kara dives back in, and shoves her fingers through a seam below the armor’s neck, right between the clavicles. The metal gives easily, broken bolts and jagged metal shards popping away, and she rips the torso open, the helm groaning open to reveal a terrified man in his late fifties, gruff and bloodied, who desperately covers his face and awaits the killing blow.

Kara grabs his bodysuit, easily tearing him out of the damaged armor. He kicks and punches at her, one final surge of defiance in him, but all he really does is hurt himself. Thunder rings out above – she vaguely realizes she must look terrifying, eyes blazing in the darkness, interspersed with flashes of lightning. “Do it, Kryptonian! Finish it!” –he taunts.

“Get it right: I’m Supergirl.” –she spits back. “And I don’t need to.”

She tosses him against the platform’s safety railing, then rips the top metal bar at either side of the man and wraps it around his arms and torso, immobilizing him. Titanium Man is no longer a threat.

It takes a few breaths to calm herself, the glow of her eyes slowly subsiding. She turns, and relief floods her senses; Lena’s sitting back up, holding her head. Kara jogs up to them, and kneels beside Lena. “Are you ok?” –she asks, worried sick.

“Concussed, I think.” –Lena says, blearily. “Caught a chunk of debris before you got here.”

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve gotten here quicker.”

Lena shakes her head, though the gesture makes her pale further. “S’not your fault. You were right, I shouldn’t have taken the Serum. Got in way over my head.” –she says, then smiles. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Kara blushes. Part of her is annoyed that she’s ignoring her resentment so easily, but the relief of keeping Lena safe is completely overpowering. “I came in and I couldn’t see you. I...I thought I’d lost you.” –she admits.

“Is that why you almost incinerated the guy?” –she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Kara winces. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I almost lost it there, for a second.”

Lena’s gaze turns soft. “It’s ok, Kara. I wasn’t begrudging you. If I were in your place, I...don’t know that I could’ve restrained myself as much as you did.”

The blonde can’t resist a smug look. “Oh? You trying to tell me something, Luthor?”

Peter rubs the back of his head. “I’ll, um...go hunt for some ingredients for more web fluid. Long fight, fresh out, y’know? You guys talk amongst yourselves.” –he walks off, a knowing smirk beneath his mask.

“Smooth, isn’t he?” –Lena says, sarcastic.

Kara gives her a half shrug. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah...” –Lena trails off. “I, uh...I owe you an apology. Several, in fact. You’re a much better heroine than I gave you credit for, for starters.”

“It’s early days, still. I could be just as dangerous as you feared someday.” –Kara says.

“That’s crap, and you know it. I know it. For all your power and might, you’re still you. You’re such a beautiful soul, Kara.” –Lena whispers. “To go through as much as you have – to have lost it all and come out the other side as kind and selfless as you are, it’s incredible. I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it firsthand. And instead of learning and growing as a person from your example, I ruined our friendship – lost you, I thought, forever.”

She shakes her head, bitter. “I let the prejudice I grew up with control me. I turned what could’ve been a beautiful moment between us into a nightmare that has haunted me every day since.” –she says.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why wait so long?” –Kara asks. “Lena, I would’ve forgiven you. I knew about your upbringing. I was with you through those bouts of self-hatred. And yeah, you broke my heart, I stormed off without a word, and tried my best not to look back. But you never sought me out. You never tried to fix our friendship – and even though I desperately wanted to, it wasn’t up to me to make things right.”

“All I could think is that I’d fucked up. That you wouldn’t ever want to see me again.” –Lena painfully says. “And to be honest, I...didn’t think I deserved your forgiveness. I still don’t, not really. But that doesn’t excuse the fact that I didn’t try. You’re right, Kara – this is on me. Maybe it’s too late, but...I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Kara can feel her carefully put up barriers crumbling as Lena breaks down. “No, don’t...don’t say those things. Of course it’s not too late. I forgive you, Lena.” –she says, then smirks despite herself, wiping a few tears away with the cleanest part of her costume’s sleeve. “Rao, I told myself I’d make this tougher for you if you ever tried to fix things, but I just can’t. I just want you back.”

“You should make it hard.” –Lena chides. “I can’t expect to be welcomed back with open arms. I need to make it up to you, somehow.”

“Lena, we’ve already spent years apart. I think that’s punishment enough, don’t you?” –Kara shoots back. “Besides...I’m sure we can figure out a way to make up for lost time.” –she suggests, blushing.

“I’d tease you for thinking so highly of yourself, but I really did miss you.” –she shakes her head. “Thank you, Kara. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but...thank you.”

Kara hugs her, as tight as her superhuman strength will allow without crushing the object of her affection. Low enough that Lena won’t hear it, she whispers. “I guess Skye was right – you are my weakness.”

Chapter Text

It feels like the best kind of eternity, but their embrace lasts only a few seconds. Peter comes back with refreshed web cartridges and, like, half a dozen first aid kits – a bit excessive for the cut on Lena’s forehead and the myriad scrapes along her arms and legs, but Kara appreciates the thought. Peter’s suit is pretty messed up, but the damage is all cosmetic; the torn sections expose the black, armored lining beneath the relatively unassuming red and blue of the costume.

Kara makes a mental note to thank Stark for making the kid a suit. Cute though the self-made hoodie and workout pants combo might’ve been, it did nothing to protect Peter from harm, and he has the absolutely unacceptable number of scars on a teenager to prove it.

The storm outside seems to finally subside – enough for the roar of Iron Man’s jet boots to echo clearly through the facility. The armored Avenger busts through the rubble Kara’s own destructive entry left behind with a few, well placed repulsor blasts. Kara resists the urge to snicker; Tony didn’t come alone, and from the looks of things, he gave Steve a piggyback ride. Rhodey comes in next, Natasha smoothly hanging onto the lengthy barrels of his shoulder mounted minigun.

“Do you guys have any idea how mind-numbingly boring it is to hack your way through twelve-ish miles of tunnel sensors?” –Tony asks, his faceplate peeling back, exasperated. “Even JARVIS got tired of it.”

Steve dismounts like he didn’t just ride Iron Man for fifteen minutes (phrasing). He gives the place a once-over, then puts his shield on his back and walks toward them. “Colonel, watch our airspace and hail a S.H.I.E.L.D. transport – something rated for heavy lifting. Widow, check on the captive.” –he orders. War Machine salutes, and flies through the hole in the ceiling. Romanoff saunters past them, and gives Kara a knowing wink.

“How are you, Miss Luthor?” –Steve asks, first and foremost.

“Down a pencil skirt and dreading the next board meeting.” –she snarks. “Otherwise, I’m fine, Captain. Supergirl saved the day.” –she says, just the tiniest bit sultry. Kara blushes pretty visibly.

He nods. “Glad to hear it. Do you have the Serum?”

Lena produces the strange, segmented metal vial. “I thought about using it, but...well, the Avengers already have a Super Soldier on the roster, don’t they?” –she jokes.

Steve smirks, slightly. “Yes, ma’am. And I don’t exactly recommend the process.” –he says. Steve turns to Peter, who’s doing his level best to make himself as much of a wallflower as he can – hard to achieve, given his rather evocative costume. “About time I caught up with you, son.” –Steve tells him. “Wish it were under less hectic circumstances.”

“R-right.” –Peter says, meek. “Captain. Big fan. I’m Spider-Man.” –he stammers, waving a little.

Rogers snorts, turning to Tony. “You’ve been busy.” –he says, nodding back at the clearly Stark-made suit.

Stark shrugs. “What else is new?” –he says, then stares at Titanium Man’s damaged armor. “...other than my godfather’s killer robot suit getting lovingly refurbished into a more advanced killer robot suit, apparently?”

“Meet Titanium Man.” –Kara says, nodding at the unconscious pilot. “Courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D. engineering and Centipede’s absent morals.”

Tony’s lips form a thin line. “Oh, I am gonna kill Nick Fury.”

“I’ll gladly hold the knife.” –Kara grumbles. Lena gives her an amused glance.

Rogers frowns. He turns to Romanoff. “Did you know about this?”

Romanoff crosses her arms. “Vaguely. I didn’t think they’d literally use Stane’s armor, or that the prototype was anywhere near operational. The Centipede connection’s new, though. New and concerning.”

“Concerning is S.H.I.E.L.D. trying to have their Iron Man-themed cake and eat it, too.” –Stark says. “I get that I’m not their first choice for a superhero, but this is downright offensive.”

“Don’t take it personally.” –Romanoff advises. “You know there’s any number of ongoing attempts to replicate your tech the world over. S.H.I.E.L.D. just cheated ahead. So did the US Air Force.” –she says, pointing a thumb at Rhodey’s direction, circling overhead.

“I’m sorry, do people not get that I’m a human being? Like, with feelings? Mildly hurt ones, given the man I trusted and thought of as a second father had me kidnapped, tortured, and nearly killed?” –he asks, sarcastic. “What the fuck did Fury think I’d do, the moment I found out about this? Sue for copyright infringement?”

“No, I’m pretty sure he knew you’d blow up.” –Natasha sighs.

“So he just didn’t care.” –Kara surmises. “Business as usual, really.”

“Fury does care.” –Romanoff defends. Kara gets the feeling she’s speaking from experience. “But he also understands, all too well, that caring can get in the way of the mission. Get more people hurt. I get it, Tony. This sucks. It’s an awful thing to do to you. But this suit wasn’t intended to replace you, much less bring up the painful memories associated with it; it was meant to go where you couldn’t. Even Iron Man can’t be in two places at once.”

Tony scoffs. “Yeah, well. I’ll believe it when I see it, Romanoff. Fury’s had every chance to prove he’s not an absolute jackass, and so far? Not impressed.”

The faceplate lowers then, and he approaches the half-wrecked suit. He kneels by it, turning to Kara. “Jesus, Kara. You did a number on this guy.”

Kara purses her lips. “What can I say? I was motivated.”

“You say that like you didn’t just rip open a hunk of metal that could probably withstand a tactical nuke.” –he says. “Which, dibs, by the way. I’m totally breaking this thing down and making one for myself. Hell, I might even integrate it into the Hulkbuster concept.”

“Good luck keeping it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s hands.” –Romanoff says. “Damaged or not, they’re gonna want their stolen prototype back.”

“They’d be lucky to get a picture.” –Tony retorts. “JARVIS, make sure to get a good one.”

Natasha raises her arms in surrender. “I’m just saying. Don’t wonder why you’re constantly on Fury’s shit list when you pull shit like this.”

“I pull shit like this because I’m on Fury’s shit list.” –Tony argues.

“It’s an Ouroboros of petty.” –Lena mutters, rolling her eyes. If Tony hears her, he doesn’t react. Steve does hear it, and he snickers a bit. “How do you people even function?” –she shakes her head, half fondly, half concerned.

Cap sighs. “Dysfunctionally. It’s early days, ma’am. A lot of strong personalities making up this team. But rest assured we all want the same thing: to protect those who cannot protect themselves. To avenge the victims of those who would abuse their power, like Centipede clearly has.”

“It’s a noble goal.” –Lena allows. “I only worry that you might be seen as abusing your power, too. It only takes a few mistakes for that line to blur.”

Rogers purses his lips. “I know that fear. I’ve lived with it for the better part of a century.” –he jokes, though his eyes betray a hint of sadness. “But I also fundamentally believe this is the right path for us to take. The best way to make use of these talents and abilities is in service of the people.”

“Some might argue the better way is to not make use of them at all.” –Lena notes.

“Some might.” –he admits. “But evil only triumphs in the absence of good. Our gifts come with a moral obligation to use them, and use them responsibly. We all, in our own way, understand that. And I do mean all of us. Iron Man, Thor, Black Widow...all of the Avengers, but also the vigilantes patrolling New York City by night.” –he says, then nods at Peter, who’s excitedly chatting with Tony, perched atop the Titanium Man suit. “By all accounts, Spider-Man should only be concerned with his education, his friends, and his loved ones. And yet, he’s spent his nights going out and stopping crime for months, now – long before I decided he had a place with the Avengers, and definitely before Tony decided to enable him with a technologically advanced suit.”

“You give him a lot of credit.” –Lena says. “If I didn’t already know who he was, I don’t know that I wouldn’t just assume he’s in it for the thrills, instead of wanting to do the right thing.”

“I just give him the credit he deserves.” –he counters. “When I woke up to the chaos and confusion of the twenty-first century, I feared we’d lost many of the values I’d grown up aspiring to uphold. I’m just glad this fifteen year old’s proven me wrong so quickly.”

“He’s a good kid.” –Kara finally chimes in, previously enraptured by the fascinating discussion. “Held Titanium Man off all by himself for quite a while.”

Lena scoffs, bumping shoulders with her good-naturedly. “Excuse you, I helped! I threw every Erlenmeyer flask I could get my hands on at the guy! I must’ve looked like some caricature of a mad scientist.”

“I’m sure you looked very brave.” –Kara chuckles.

“Terrified, more like. I don’t know how you people do it – well you, Kara, I understand. You’re invulnerable. But the rest of you? Stark has the right idea, and so does this asshole, for that matter.” –she says, pointing at the unconscious mercenary. “Layers upon layers of armor, that’s the dream.”

Rogers shrugs. “It’s not too bad if you don’t get hit.”

Lena looks ready to fire back a witty retort, but she doesn’t get to; a beam of red light and sparks flies between Kara and Steve, and hits her chest, dead center. She collapses instantly, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Steve manages to react just in time to save her from hitting her head on the ground, while Kara just stands there, frozen in shock. She drops to her knees, reaching for Lena – she can’t help but stare at her eyes, open yet vacant, glassy like a corpse’s.

It’s like she’s back on Krypton, dodging plasma and debris, surrounded by an audience of the dead. Unmoving eyes, so often framed by liquid crimson and charred black, unable to track her but quickly replaced by the next spectator. Tripping on the rubble of buildings she grew up looking at, slipping on the blood of the people they once housed – trying her best not to join their numbers.

But this isn’t Krypton, and she isn’t a helpless girl any longer.

Kara’s eyes blaze with fury, as she turns to find the culprit. What she finds gives her pause, if only for a moment; ahead of them, by the rubble of the entrance to this place, a sort of tear in reality has appeared. It’s perfectly circular, shooting off amber colored sparks at the edges, like metal on metal. A dark figure lurks within, their hand outstretched, wreathed by a residual glow, the same color as the blast that hit Lena.

The attacker steps forth, their arm folding back beneath a rich green hooded cloak that covers most of their figure. They regard the Avengers coldly, their gaze finally settling on Kara. “Kryptonian.” –the figure says. The voice sounds decidedly male, hollow and tinny, like a man using a loudspeaker at the bottom of a well.

The glow of her eyes subsides in confusion. The name of her species isn’t common knowledge; Jameson identified her as extraterrestrial, and she confirmed the fact to the media when asked, but she hasn’t ever spoken in public about her homeworld or species. Only the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel with the appropriate clearance would know to call her a daughter of Krypton.

“Who are you? What do you want?” –Steve says, grim, his shield at the ready.

“You are honored to hold the attention of Victor von Doom.”

A shiver runs through Kara’s spine. She can see what Sue meant; Victor is all metal and cloth, the only visible traces of humanity being his eyes – pinpricks of a brown so dark it may as well be black, framed by bloodshot whites and the barest hint of scarred skin around them. His face is a permanent, cruel metal scowl, a grotesque iron mask more befitting a gargoyle, or perhaps an Oni, than a man. Even the rich, golden-trimmed emerald robes, and the ornate silver armor underneath – both fit for the royalty the man allegedly belongs to – can’t lessen the horrifying visage holding her gaze.

“There’s no honor in striking a defenseless woman.” –Rogers spits out.

“Doom has no mercy for the weak.” –he counters. “And he does not tolerate failure.”

He thrusts his hand out; the Avengers hold fast, anticipating an attack, but it doesn’t come. Instead, the defeated mercenary gets pulled toward him, metal bars and all, screaming in pain. Romanoff tries to reach for him, but the motion is too quick, too violent. In an instant, Doom holds him up by the neck, venomously staring into his eyes. “Your services are no longer required.” –he declares, and Andrew Stockwell goes up in flames.

Tony is the first to react; he blasts forward, holding his fist back for a punch, but Doom moves even quicker – he tosses the blazing man back, into the portal, and charges forward to meet the Iron Avenger halfway, his cape billowing behind him. He not only easily avoids the powerful blow, but manages to deliver one of his own, an open palmed strike to the chest, perfectly centered. The hit doesn’t make contact with the armor – it completely bypasses it, sinking through the gold-titanium alloy like it’s not even there, and strikes the man within, who’s then tossed through the back of the armor, similarly intangible, landing hard a few feet away. Doom tosses the emptied suit aside, distinctly unimpressed.

“Mr. Stark!” –Peter yells, in a panic. He leaps to his aid, Cap and Widow flanking him for a two-pronged assault. Kara’s left to hold Lena – her heartbeat is faint, but Kara shudders with relief at the fact that it’s still present. Whatever Victor blasted her with, Lena’s not dead yet.

The villain doesn’t shy away from the challenge; he deflects Cap’s thrown shield toward Widow, who barely has time to drop to her knees in a slide, springing back up into a leap, her gauntlets sparking with electricity. Doom ignores her, instead blasting Steve with a black, smoky beam that doesn’t seem to damage the Super Soldier, but instead restrains him by taking the form of a negative-colored doppelganger holding him in place.

Natasha successfully lands on his torso, Widow’s Bites at either side of his armored neck, but Doom is entirely unaffected, even as the powerful electric current arcs along his suit. He head-butts her, hard enough to instantly draw blood, and she falls onto her back. Doom reaches down and grabs her by the neck, but Natasha pushes through her dazed state and pushes his head back with her legs. Unabated, Doom lifts her up, and slams her back down – and Kara, horrified, hears the sickening snap of a broken bone.

Enough is enough; Kara sets Lena down as gently as possible, and unleashes her heat vision upon the villain, but the pencil-thin beams don’t even reach the target; instead, a smaller version of the portal Doom came in appears right in front of her face, and the photon beams reappear behind Cap and his negative clone, destroying the construct and hitting Steve in the back. He, too, goes down, smoking and groaning in pain.

“Doom has judged the champions of this world.” –he says, slowly advancing toward her. She rushes forth, hot tears in her trail, but he blasts her with a white beam, which she, perhaps foolishly, ignores and allows to hit her. It doesn’t hurt at all, but it completely paralyzes her, mid-charge – for all her inhuman strength, she cannot move a muscle. “And he has found them wanting.”

Spider-Man brings Cap’s discarded shield towards him with a web, and spin-jumps in place, keeping the shield’s momentum and adding his own power to the throw, but Doom merely reaches out and catches it, examining it for a moment before securing it to his hand and beckoning Peter to duel him.

Kara can’t get over how wrong he looks, wielding that shield.

To his credit, Peter doesn’t falter; he shoots a trio of web globs that Doom easily blocks in a flash of red, white, and blue, but allow the agile vigilante to leap in close. Doom moves the shield out of the way for a strike, but Peter sticks his hand on the very edge of the discus, letting the movement carry him out of the way of the blow, and atop the supervillain. He grabs onto his hood and drops in front of him, pulling the garment with him, but that puts him exactly in place for a swing with the shield, which he has to literally bend over backwards to avoid. Kara’s eyes widen – as much as the strange spell that immobilizes her allows – as Peter then sticks to the ground with his hands, and pulls himself into a kick that connects with Doom’s chin, sending him a single step backward.

Kara’s filled with hope, then, as Rhodey comes in hot through the ceiling, guns blazing. Spider-Man manages to jump out of the way and pull both Romanoff and Steve from the line of fire and behind her, leaving Doom cleanly open for War Machine’s attack. Bullets, shells, and even particle blasts hail upon the Latverian monarch, but Kara’s hopes are short-lived – Doom is protected by a neon green energy barrier, which halts all the shots and renders them harmless at his feet. The barrier is a half dome, and it moves to protect him, even as Rhodey tries to find an angle. Perhaps bored, Doom tosses the adamantium shield aside, and reaches out towards Rhodey, tendrils of a jagged, red and black crystalline material shooting out from his fingertips. When they make contact with the armor, he drops out of the sky, and as he struggles to remain upright, Kara watches in awe and horror as the suit disassembles itself, piece by piece, until only Rhodey is left standing, balking in his flight suit.

“You wield weapons you have not earned. You fight as prideful individuals, not as one force of justice.” –he says derisively, as Peter desperately tries to help her move her arms, narrowing his eyes with distaste. He turns to Kara, and bitterly speaks. “And when the worst comes to pass, you huddle around your bastion, unaware of just how fragile she really is.”

Doom waves a hand, and the paralysis is lifted. Kara doesn’t waste a moment, flying as fast as she can towards him – and she isn’t surprised, either, when he opens a portal in front of her, which she manages to evade with a mid-air roll. Her arms are heavy from the earlier flurry of blows, but she puts as much power as she dares into a single punch, aimed at his hideous mask, but it meets the green shield from before.

This, too, she anticipates.

The shield is still a half dome – which means his back is unprotected. As she recoils from the blow, she takes a page from Peter’s book, performing a floating somersault that lets her grab Cap’s shield and just miss a throw by Doom’s head. Her eyes light up with her heat vision then, which she lets wash over the dome, tracking upwards until the beams clear it and hit the indestructible shield, refracting onto Victor’s unprotected back. The acrid smell of burning cloth and ozone assaults her nostrils as Doom groans, prostrated as he reels from the impact.

“That’s. It.” –Kara grinds out, furious. “Stay down, or you’ll regret it.”

Doom laughs, a little brokenly. “Regret is an old friend, Kara Zor-El. Welcome yours gladly, as you would a great mentor.”

Kara scoffs. “You’ve got a burning hole on your back, Victor. I have nothing to regret – except for maybe not aiming higher.”

He looks up at her, cold fury in his bloodshot eyes. “But you won’t kill, will you? You won’t finish it – finish me, even though I could kill everyone here with a snap of my fingers were I so inclined.”

“Don’t tempt me.” –she grits her teeth.

“But I must, Kryptonian.” –he narrows his eyes. “I must, else you will remain an aberration. A weakling. A mistake I will be forced to correct.”

Kara shakes her head. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? You’re insane. A ‘weakling’? I destroyed more Chitauri than I could count. I tore Titanium Man to pieces. I beat you with a single punch.”

Doom rises, then, his movements stiff and pained. “It is as I said.” –he declares, with an air of finality. He grabs some kind of metal hilt from his belt – presses a button on it, which shoots forth a metal blade with a strange, obsidian-like crystal edge. “Prideful.” –he calls her, and the crystal ignites with an inner, emerald light.

It’s the strangest thing.

In a mere moment, the godly amounts of power and strength she’s known for the past eight years, living under Earth’s beautiful yellow sun vanish. In an instant, she’s the fleeing, helpless girl, back on Krypton – no one special, not unique by any means, and certainly not invulnerable. Her footing wavers, her arms weigh her down like anchors, and her vision blurs as Victor von Doom approaches. Her skin burns, and her breathing becomes labored as Doom’s cold, metal hand encircles her neck and lifts her, just enough that she can see the complete disregard for life in his eyes.

Victor tilts his head, ever so slightly. “Fragile.” –he says, almost disappointed, and plunges the green blade into her abdomen.

Chapter Text

When Lena comes to, it’s to Peter’s relieved, mask-less face.

“Lena! You’re alive!” –he rejoices, then rubs the back of his head. “W-well, we knew you were alive, you just...weren’t responding to anything we did.”

The ravenette immediately starts rubbing her temples, wincing at the bright lights above. “Yeah, I don’t...I’ve passed out before, but this wasn’t like that at all.” –she shakes her head. “What the hell happened?”

Peter scowls. “It’s...pretty bad, not gonna lie.” –he says, cryptically. “You got hit by some kind of...I don’t wanna say spell, but it definitely looked like sparkly fairy stuff. Took you out for...five, ten minutes, maybe?” –he says, then turns to a group of very defeated looking superheroes, huddled tightly in the distance.

“Peter? ...where’s Kara?” –she asks, her lip trembling. She doesn’t need to look at Peter’s immediately concerned visage to know something has gone horribly wrong – she can see from here that Kara’s prone on the ground, her bright red boots protruding from the huddle.

“I...Lena, please don’t panic.” –he warns. “But the guy that blasted you, he...he stabbed her, somehow.”

“That’s impossible.” –she finds herself saying, almost on auto. “Kara’s invulnerable.”

“She isn’t.” –Peter says, hollow. “She really isn’t.”

Lena struggles for a second, like she’s only just remembering how to move her body, but she rises and books it towards the assembled Avengers. She’s not sure which one she pushes aside – Stark, maybe? – but before she knows it, she’s staring at something she never would have thought possible.

“Kara...” –she whimpers, taking in the horrific sight of a glowing, emerald blade, stained crimson, protruding from Kara’s abdomen. She’s alive, still; softly moaning in pain, barely breathing, weakly attempting to pull at Captain Rogers’ hands. The Super Soldier is pressing a scrap of her skirt against her wound to keep her from bleeding out, but there’s still a small but growing pool of blood beneath her, darkening her cape.

“We’ve called for reinforcements.” –the redhead in the skin-tight leather costume says. She’s the Black Widow, if the group’s PR is to be trusted – a S.H.I.E.L.D. spook and thus instantly on Lena’s shit list. “But it’s gonna take a while.” –she admits. Lena notices that she’s gingerly holding her ribs, a trickle of drying blood falling down the corner of her lips.

“She doesn’t have a while.” –Lena retorts. Hearing her voice, Kara stirs somewhat, her eyes a little glazed but still trying to find her. She looks at the sword and frowns; she’s never seen a crystal like it – green ones, sure, but they never glow quite like this. It’s no harmless fluorescence, either – she’s no nuclear physicist, of course, but the blade looks like it’s irradiated. “Does anyone feel nauseous?” –she asks, the beginning of a diagnosis forming in her mind.

The Avengers shake their heads or mumble in the negative, clearly shell-shocked at the fact that their strongest lies on what could be her deathbed. “What are you thinking? Radiation?” –Stark asks. He looks a little ridiculous in his flight suit – not quite as flattering on him as the Widow’s catsuit is on her – his oh-so-fancy power suit perfectly  intact but discarded, for some reason, a few feet away.

Just how much did she miss?

“Ionizing radiation of some kind, yes.” –Lena says. “Kara’s cells take in sunlight and use it to fuel her powers – the flight, the laser eyes, the invulnerability, everything. She stores it, too, which is how she can use her powers at night without fear of running out. It stands to reason that she could absorb other kinds of radiation too, to different effects.”

“This thing must be blocking or suspending her invulnerability, then.” –Stark concludes.

“Her healing factor, too.” –Lena agrees. She kneels by Rogers. “Captain, I’m gonna need you to stop what you’re doing. We need to take the sword out of her, as quickly as possible.”

Rogers looks at her like she’s grown a third eye. “Ma’am...if I take it out, she’ll bleed to death.”

“She already is.” –Lena says, surprised at her own even tone. “You can plainly see it: she’s not coagulating at all. As long as the sword stays in, she’ll keep bleeding.”

He seems unconvinced. “Miss Luthor...”

“Captain...as much as she might seem like one, Kara is not human. She doesn’t work like I do. She doesn’t even work like you do. She’s an alien from the planet Krypton.” –Lena firmly reminds him, exasperated. “And if we don’t act now, she will die.”

Steve takes a moment, perhaps trying to come up with an argument, but sighs, and steps away, probably unwilling to have Kara’s blood on his hands. “You know her best.” –Rogers admits.

“I hope I do.” –Lena says, under her breath, and gets to work. Gently, she wraps her hands with a dry scrap of Kara’s skirt, and firmly grips the sword’s hilt. Immediately, Kara groans, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. It almost makes her stop, but she can feel it in her heart; this is the right thing to do.

Inch by inch, the blade slides out of her. The bleeding increases, so she strives to keep as fast and even a pace as she possibly can. Stark covers his mouth, shaking his head with doubt. After what feels like an eternity, the sword pulls free, and she tosses it as far away as she can – nearly hits Peter with it. Almost immediately, Kara visibly relaxes – she fears, for a terrifying second, that she’s slipping away, but the bleeding stops in mere moments, and the wound slowly but surely begins to close before their very eyes. It’d be fascinating, if her hands weren’t covered in the blood of the woman she loves.

Lena pauses, betrayed by her subconscious. That’s...something to think about, isn’t it?

She sits, still tired from her paralysis and even more exhausted by this fresh batch of emotional trauma, beside Kara. She wipes the blood on her pencil skirt – it’s oddly watery, she notes, and it doesn’t seem to be drying much, if at all, unlike human blood – and grabs Kara’s hand, concerned about how cold it seems to be. “...hey.” –Kara whispers, barely audible.

The others seem to follow some kind of cue, walking away to give them space. She’ll have to remember to thank them later. “Hey, yourself.” –she smiles at her.

“You...look like hell, Luthor...” –Kara says, pulling off the tiniest smirk.

Lena gives her a watery chuckle. “My god, the absolute gall on you.” –she says, indignant. “You’re one to talk, Danvers; you look like you had a fight with a ketchup factory and lost.”

“Yeah...” –she says, weakly bringing up her crimson drenched hand up to her face. “That’s a new one.”

The ravenette scoffs. “Understatement of the century, love.”

Even though she almost bled out, Kara still finds it in her to raise a smug eyebrow. “Oh? Am I ‘love’, now?”

Lena shakes her head, fondly. “Get some rest, Kara. Promise you’ll wake up again, and maybe we’ll talk.”

Kara slowly mocks a salute. “It’s...a date, then.”

As if she’d been waiting for permission, Kara conks out. Just to make sure, Lena takes her pulse – it’s still a little too weak for her liking, but it is steadily improving. Peter and the Captain approach. “You were right.” –Rogers notes, clearly relieved.

“Yeah, Karen says she’s stable now.” –Peter says. He has his mask back on – for what, Lena’s not sure. Everyone here must’ve seen his face by now. Maybe it’s the only way he can hear the AI talk.

“I wish I was as confident as I sounded.” –Lena admits. “It was sound logic, given what I knew about Kryptonian biology, but...it was still risky as all hell.”

“Let’s not dwell on that. You figured it out and saved her life, and that’s that.” –Steve says.

Lena sighs, allowing herself to bask in her relief for a moment. “Just what happened, Captain? Who did this?”

Rogers’ gaze darkens. “He called himself Doctor Doom – an alter ego, I assume, of Victor von Doom, king of Latveria and known associate and/or benefactor of Project Centipede.” –he explains. “Came in through some kind of portal, took Titanium Man’s pilot, and beat us to a pulp. It’s honestly hard to believe how quickly and easily he dismantled us. Sobering.”

“Seriously.” –Peter says. “Kara’s the only one who managed to land a solid hit on him, and, well...you saw how that ended.”

Colonel Rhodes approaches with a gurney he seems to have carried over from a nearby side room – part of the emergency gear for the landing pad, Lena assumes. Peter and Steve gently lift Kara up and place her on the gurney, which Rhodes pushes toward the wreck of Titanium Man, where Widow and Stark have collected both the intact Iron Man armor and the completely dismantled War Machine. Stark curses at the iconic suit, rubbing his sweaty forehead. “What’s wrong with it?” –Rogers asks.

Stark shoots him a dirty look. “The armor’s fine – undamaged, really, but whatever that bastard did to pop me out like a cork stopper, it messed with its IFF security measures. It thinks I’m still inside, so it won’t open up, even with the emergency release.” –he explains. “Teach me not to skimp on the internal sensors’ redundancies next time, I guess.”

“You can’t...hack it, or something?” –Rogers proposes, in a tone that suggests he’s still not entirely sure of what ‘hacking’ means.

“Ever since Vanko took over Rhodey’s suit, I decided against that kind of remote backdoor. I’m all for a challenging fight, but losing control of the suit mid-fight would be, shall we say, not ideal.” –he says, sarcastic. “I planned for a lot of contingencies, Cap; intangibility was not one of them. Maybe I can break the CO2 filters, provoke the suit into popping open to ‘save my life’, but it’s gonna take a little while. I built the Mark VIII to work in space.”

“Do whatever it takes.” –Rogers orders. Stark doesn’t look like he appreciates his tone, but quickly gets to work. “The rest of you, status report.”

“Two broken ribs and a serious headache. Could be a minor concussion.” –Widow grudgingly admits. “I can fight, but it’s gonna hurt like a bitch. Probably land me in the hospital, too.”

“Whatever Doom did, it didn’t hurt me, but I’m down to my sidearm. Obviously.” –Rhodes says, pulling a standard issue M9 Beretta from a little thigh holster. “Could probably salvage some of the armor’s weapons, since they’re mostly grafted on.”

“Yeah, the minigun should be perfectly fine.” –Stark absently remarks.

“...it’s also 90 pounds and pretty impossible to fire from the hip, but sure, Tony.”

“Why are you guys talking like there’s more fighting to be done? Aren’t we just waiting for S.H.I.E.L.D. to pick us up?” –Lena asks.

Rogers purses his lips. “Centipede has made it clear that it has plenty of bodies to throw at us. We may have defeated their forces here and back at OsCorp, but reinforcements are a definite possibility.”

“Guys, guys, guys, GUYS!” –a newcomer shouts, running up to them. It’s a young woman, Asian American and kind of on the short side, brown-haired and brown-eyed – very pretty, if not really Lena’s type. She’s clutching a laptop to her chest like it’s a sack of gold, or something equally valuable. “Centipede’s coming!”

Rogers sighs, and Stark chuckles, bitterly. “Just had to jinx it, didn’t you?” –the engineer mutters.

“Grab whatever gear you can get working and form a defensive perimeter around the injured.” –Steve orders. He hands his indestructible shield to Rhodey, and spares him a small smile. “Trade you for the minigun?”

Rhodes snorts. “Don’t mind if I do.” –he quips, and gets to work getting the War Machine’s shoulder-mounted turret ready for battle.

The new girl finally makes it to the platform, presenting the laptop like some kind of peace offering. “I, um...I downloaded everything I could before Centipede remotely wiped their local servers. It’s just a couple gigs’ worth of data, but, y’know...better than nothing, right?”

“It’s excellent news.” –Rogers says. “Thank you, miss...?”

“Oh, it’s Skye.” –she says. “I’m a friend of...hers, actually.” –Skye says, growing pale as she takes in Kara’s prone form. “What the hell happened to Kara?”

“That.” –Lena says, pointing her thumb at the bloodstained crystal sword Peter has started to wrap in webbing. “The blade gives off some kind of radiation that blocks her powers – invulnerability and all.”

Skye shakes her head. “Jesus. Is she gonna be okay?”

“She should be, but...well, lots of unknowns going on right now.” –Lena admits. The Avengers step away from their conversation, getting to work on readying themselves for the incoming assault. Captain America hunkers behind Rhodes and the adamantium shield, testing the minigun’s spinning barrels. On the other side, Black Widow settles into a kneel, pointing Rhodes’ sidearm at the room’s only entrance. Tony swears in pain, having stupidly kicked the nigh-indestructible suit of armor at his feet in frustration. Spider-Man clings to the wall above the entrance, ready to ambush the mercenaries closing in. It’s equal parts terrifying and reassuring.

“So, uh...how do you know Kara?” –Lena asks, awkwardly, pushing the gurney behind the massive titanium suit.

“Just met her, actually.” –Skye admits. “I infiltrated Centipede and got sent in with the merc squad they sent to OsCorp. Kara beat the shit out of everyone else in my unit, so I figured I’d stick with her, see if I could help make sure you guys didn’t walk away from this empty-handed. Last I saw, she was charging in here to beat this guy.” –she says, nodding at the power armor they’ve hidden behind. “Which...I guess she did. Geez.”

“You just...infiltrated Centipede?” –Lena asks, baffled. “What are you, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent?”

Skye snorts. “Not in a million years, Luthor.” –she retorts. “No, I’m just a concerned citizen with excellent coding skills and the right friends in New York’s underground vigilante scene.”

Lena narrows her eyes. “...right.” –she mutters. Just then, the shooting starts.

Movies don’t really prepare you for just how loud firearms actually are, but growing up in the Jameson household – and thus, around all of her step-father’s conservative, 2^nd Amendment-obsessed gun nut friends – certainly did for Lena. Even so, the firefight is deafening, and the sheer amounts of lead being thrown their way is terrifying. Skye and Lena can only hold onto each other and wince as the bullets ping off of Captain America’s shield and the Titanium Man armor.

The ravenette grits her teeth as War Machine’s minigun roars to life. “I feel so useless like this!” –she shouts. “I should’ve taken the Serum!”

Skye shakes her head. “Trust me, you’re better off without it!” –she says. “That thing burns through people! Sometimes literally!”

Lena shrinks as a stray ricochet zips a foot or so over her head. “Well, I need to do something!”

“Unless you wanna try and help Iron Man into his tin can,” –she jokes, pointing towards the cursing billionaire, “I think this is all we can do!”

Lena feels an epiphany rushing into her head. She looks at Stark, and then at the armor they’re cowering behind. “Well, maybe we don’t need Iron Man!” –she says, banging her fist against the vacant suit.

Skye’s eyes widen, and after a moment, so does her grin. “You know that’s crazy, right!?” –she says, equal parts incredulous and excited. “You need, like, weeks of training to pilot this thing! I should know, I programmed it!”

Lena scoffs. “Fuck training! If Stark could pilot his flying metal coffin hot off the fabricators, I can do it, too!” –she says, defiant, perhaps more confident than she should be. “Help me get it up and running!”

As if on cue, the Avengers start falling back towards them. Captain America looks a little worse for wear – Lena can count at least three fresh bullet holes, two on his right arm and one on his hip, all on the soft parts of his uniform – but he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by his wounds, carrying the Iron Man suit with ease, and the others seem unharmed. Stark has managed to get the small of the armor’s back plating open, somehow, and seems to be in the middle of damaging a fancy looking filtering apparatus. Lena climbs into the armor’s torso compartments before the heroes can protest, following Skye’s instructions for rebooting the suit as best she can in the middle of a firefight.

Titanium Man groans back to life, the armor’s hydraulics kicking in and lifting the multi-ton suit off its would-be final resting place. It’s a fairly intuitive system, all things considered; the suit’s limbs, too large for any human to fill and operate 1-to-1, take in her arms and legs’ motions and translate them to their mechanical equivalents. It takes a couple tentative swings, but she swiftly gets a good sense of the suit’s sensitivity. The shield and weapon systems are a problem, however; Kara did a number on the armor, overloading and frying the shield generators, shearing off the rotary cannon entirely, and mangling the front of the armor so badly that it won’t cover her torso and head, and more importantly, won’t let the head and neck sections lower enough for her to use the helmet’s HUD. She can manually operate the grenade launcher and eyeball the missile launchers, but unless things get too heated, she probably shouldn’t risk those.

It’s a risky play, but Lena doesn’t see a better option; she needs to buy time for the cavalry to arrive – to get Kara and her friends to safety – and she got them into this mess in the first place. If it weren’t for her stealing the Serum – right thing to do though it might’ve been – Kara wouldn’t have nearly died.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Luthor!?” –Stark demands.

“Trying to save our asses, Stark!” –Lena retorts, hotly. “Now fix your armor, and quit your bitching!”

She gives Skye a barely reassuring smile. “Here goes nothing!” –she yells, and charges forth. She almost squishes some utterly shocked Avengers on the way, but she manages to reach the mercenaries, using one arm to shield her upper body and the other to sweep at the nearest foes. Lena experiences a mixture of euphoria and disgust, as the massive limb easily swats away fully grown men and women away, breaking bones, plastics, and metal alike with no difficulty whatsoever.

She realizes, in a sobering moment between swings, that she’s a killer now – the very thing she feared Kara might become as part of the Avengers. Even if some of the people she’s tossing around like toys survive – and it’s looking increasingly unlikely – she’s definitely killed most of them. She hates to admit it, even just to herself, but she gets it, now; why it seems so easy for someone like Tony Stark to have eradicated scores of terrorists, why most people seem to be ok with the literal assassins on the team – why the media, even in its most tooth-achingly fluffy articles about Steve Rogers, doesn’t shy away from the fact that Captain America killed many, many Nazis back in his heyday.

These people will not hesitate at the chance to take her life. Their leader – or benefactor, or whatever – did not hesitate at the chance to take Kara’s. To protect herself, and the people she loves, she can’t afford to hesitate at the chance to take theirs. To permanently end the threat they pose, lest they end her.

Before she knows it, Lena is standing alone, surrounded by broken bodies.

As her adrenaline starts wearing off, she hisses in pain – one of the soldiers managed to shoot her in the shoulder. It’s a fairly shallow wound, but she can tell it’s gonna need stitches. Lena shakes her head, lumbering back towards the Avengers.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of doing that myself.” –Stark grouses, glancing up at her. “That is my tech, after all.”

Romanoff snorts. “This armor almost killed you and Pepper. And it did kill your godfather. You wouldn’t wear that thing if it were the last suit of armor in the world.”

Stark scowls, but Rhodes nods at her. “It looks better on Lena, anyway.” –he shrugs.

“That was incredibly brave of you, ma’am.” –Rogers says, then smirks, tiredly. “Really saved our bacon. Thank you.”

“Sure, uh...anytime.” –Lena says. “Honestly, it was kind of...disturbingly easy, in the heat of the moment.”

Spider-Man lands on and perches on her left shoulder. It’s almost cute, how little he budges the armor. “I’ve webbed up the survivors.” –he points back. Sure enough, there’s a trio of mercs stuck to the walls, and another handful trapped by cobwebs against the floor. “Not that there’s, um, many of them.”

Lena winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see another choice.”

“No one’s blaming you.” –Widow says. “That’s a shot that needed to be taken.”

“Not sure that’s gonna help me sleep at night, but thanks, I suppose.” –Lena says.

Peter grabs a bandage from a scavenged first aid kit, and gets to work on Lena’s shoulder. “I took up a few first aid courses.” –he says, noticing her staring at him with a raised eyebrow. “You’d be surprised at how many times I’ve had to play first responder. Maybe I should consider a career as an EMT.” –he jokes.

“Probably wouldn’t leave you much time for vigilantism.” –Lena notes.

“Well, we can’t have that. Lots of laws I’ve yet to break.” –he quips. One of his lenses squints a little. “Hey, uh...are you sure you’re ok?”

“As much as I can be, I guess.” –Lena mutters. “I don’t regret it – at least, not yet. I just wanted to keep all of you safe.”

Spidey nods, sagely. “That right there is what makes you a hero. I know Kara would think so, too.”

Lena sighs, but manages a tiny smile. “Thanks, Spider-Man.”

The sounds of approaching aircraft rumble in the distance, closing fast. Lena allows herself to relax for a moment, but Peter, on the other hand, seems to tense. “What’s wrong?” –she asks.

“Just got a chill...” –he tilts his head, lenses narrowing as he listens to Karen. “Oh, gosh.”

“What is it?”

“Well, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D...” –Peter laments, nodding above them.

Lena turns to the hole in the roof, which slowly opens as much as the damage allows. Five fairly advanced rotorcraft begin hovering above them – two of them opening their side doors to let down rappel lines, and three hauling underneath what looks to be fully-fledged mech suits, which drop onto the platform with resounding thuds and a shower of asphalt. A small platoon of mercenaries in similar but heavier garb to the Centipede crew they just defeated drops into formation behind the armatures, armed to the teeth.

Rhodes slowly hands over the shield to Rogers. “Identify yourselves!” –the Super Soldier demands.

One of the soldiers steps forth, coming to a halt beside the middle mech. “Captain Rogers, Centipede demands the return of the Serum you’ve stolen.” –the man says, almost relaxed, as he levels his firearm. “As well as the permanent removal of the Avengers as a threat to our operations.”

At once, the other soldiers aim their weapons, and the mechs whine with power. “That’s not happening, son.” –Rogers declares. “Stand down...or end up like all the others.”

The soldier gives him a half-shrug. “They did their part. And looking at your sorry state? I like our chances.”

Lena takes stock of their situation; one down, three injured, three mostly defenseless, and a single, unharmed teenage vigilante against three Big n’ Tall Iron Men and a goddamn platoon of armed and armored mercenaries. As much as she hates to admit it, the merc’s confidence is not unfounded. It’s a sound strategy, really; wear out your foe with plentiful advance troops, hit ‘em like a truck with a superpowered foe, and deliver the killing blow with overwhelming reserve forces. She’d thought Centipede’s attack a little haphazard and improvised, initially, but between this and the sword specifically designed to kill Kryptonians, Lena’s beginning to think the people behind Centipede have put a lot of thought into destroying the Avengers.

The ravenette braces herself for yet another fight, but as luck would have it, she doesn’t need to. The soldier gives the order to fire, and Centipede’s forces don’t hesitate to do so – Lena hurriedly stepping forth to shield the vulnerable heroes with her armor – but their volley is stopped short by a sort of invisible barrier, a few feet ahead of them. Lena isn’t left to wonder on this strange phenomenon for long; a strange, circular portal has spawned, just off to the side, from which a blonde in a blue jumpsuit has stepped forth. Her face is scrunched in concentration, and her hands are outstretched, pointed towards the spot where the bullets have been seemingly halted in midair. All around the platform, a number of other portals appear – Lena doesn’t know it yet, but they’re of the same kind as the one Doctor Doom arrived through.

“Oh my god.” –Peter says. “I can’t believe they’re here.”

“What’s going on?” –Lena asks, utterly confused.

“Daredevil must’ve convinced them to come.” –he says, elated, pointing at one of the portals. “It’s the vigilantes!”

Though Lena has never been one to keep up with the rumors about New York’s underground and its champions, even she recognizes the so-called Man Without Fear – Daredevil, the vigilante that took down Wilson Fisk’s criminal enterprise a few years ago. She doesn’t recognize the others – the bored looking woman in the leather jacket, the slim, topless, masked guy with the massive dragon tattoo on his chest, or the black man with the bright yellow shirt.

Through another portal behind the Centipede soldiers, a man seemingly made of cracked sandstone emerges, mouth twisted into a gleeful grin. Beside him, a walking pyre of a person sneers at the assembled mercenaries. Dozens of soldiers bearing S.H.I.E.L.D. insignias pour out of the other portals, Kara’s step-sister, Alex, chief among them.

Behind them, the final portal spits out a tall, bearded man in strange, luscious blue robes, adorned with a flowing red cape, his gloved hands ringed with amber designs that seem to match what the portals are made of – and beside him, the small, almost frail frame of Doctor Bruce Banner shyly waves at them.

“Sorry I’m late, guys.” –he apologizes. “I would’ve come alone, but Fury insisted I bring some guests.”

“Robert Bruce Banner, you beautiful bastard.” –Tony cheers, as the Iron Man suit finally pops open and he steps inside. Lena can almost hear the mercenaries trembling at the sight. “What do you say we bash some skulls?”

“Me? Not much.” –he admits. “Hulk, on the other hand...”

Lena watches, enthralled as the brilliant scientist trails off, his body seeming to burst into the massive, musclebound green creature known as the Hulk. Any dread she might’ve felt evaporates, as the jade giant roars. “HULK SAY SMASH!”

Chapter Text

“Continuing our coverage of the Avengers’ recent exploits, several financial experts have raised concerns over Stark Industries’ hasty acquisition of OsCorp’s Manhattan-based operations, following the joint S.H.I.E.L.D.-Avengers mission that uncovered and shut down its secretive and potentially illegal underground laboratories. Pennsylvania Senator and longtime Stark critic Howard J. Stern called the purchase a ‘thinly veiled hostile takeover’, which earned him a scathing rebuke from Stark Industries’ CEO, Virginia Potts.

In a statement, Ms. Potts reminded Senator Stern that, quote, ‘though he continues to contribute his genius in the design and production of our companies’ many advanced technologies, Tony Stark has long divested himself from his company in any administrative capacity’. According to Ms. Potts, Mr. Stark ‘has little patience or time for stuffy boardrooms and quarterly reports, preferring to spend his time improving and employing the technology the Avengers need to adequately counter threats such as the one OsCorp’s clandestine operations posed to the American people, and potentially, the world at large.’

Though the Avengers have earned widespread acclaim for uncovering massive, alleged wrongdoing so soon after the Chitauri invasion, a growing number of voices are beginning to question giving potentially undue power and authority to, what some consider, a ‘group of glorified vigilantes’.”

Kara grimaces, grunting softly as she wakes and the news report ends, the TV turning off on its own. She blearily opens her eyes to the same medical room Sue was kept in, though she notices that the power dampeners are offline. She feels...sore, which is something of a novelty. Ever since she landed on Earth, she’s all but forgotten what pain and exhaustion feel like. It usually leads to quirky situations where she forgets to mimic the humans around her, but there’s nothing funny about how heavy her arms and legs feel, or the dull ache running through her abdomen.

Rao, she almost died.

Her throat feels very dry, so she looks around for water, which leads to a mild surprise, in the form of Lena’s sleeping form sat beside her. She looks a mess, her eyes bruised with worry and insomnia, but Kara still sighs in relief. It feels like a lifetime ago, but seeing her bleed from stray debris, and knocked out cold by that red bolt of light was terrifying. It enraged her, almost beyond reason – and, if she’s honest with herself, it made her careless. If she’d been more vigilant, enjoyed herself a little less while taking down Doctor Doom...perhaps this could’ve been avoided.

The frosted glass door to the room slides open, revealing her sister. Alex looks like she’s sprinted all the way here, her cheeks red and her eyes wide. “Kara!” –she breathes out. She strides to her left, opposite of Lena, and hugs her tight. “Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re okay...” –she whispers, sounding like the weight of the world’s been lifted off her shoulders.

“H-hey, Alex...” –she croaks out. Kryptonian or no, her throat complains from the sudden exertion.

Alex immediately lets go, concern plain on her expression. “What is it? Did I hurt you?”

Kara shakes her head. “No, I...I think I’m back to normal. I’m just a little sore, still.”

“Normal as in ‘Girl of Steel’ normal, or what?” –she asks, dubious.

The blonde nods. Her eyes glow with the beginnings of heat vision, just to prove she’s not bluffing. Alex sighs, relieved. “I guess Tony’s idea panned out, after all.” –she grudgingly recognizes.

Kara raises an eyebrow. “Since when are you on a first name basis with Iron Man?”

“Since we’ve all spent a week trying to figure out if you’d wake up or not.” –Lena chimes in, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t wanna interrupt your moment.”

Alex snorts. “Too loud?”

“Too loud.” –Lena confirms. Her drowsy scowl softens. “Hey, Kara.” –she says, exhausted, taking Kara’s right hand between her own. “It’s so good to see you awake.”

Kara purses her lips. “Oh, dear. Was it really that bad?”

“Well, you lost almost half of your blood volume before we could get the sword out, so yes. And it’s not like we could find you a donor, or like we could’ve done a transfusion if we had, impenetrable skin and all.” –Lena rambles. “It was...touch and go, for a day or two.”

Alex glances between the two, knowingly. “And then Tony got the bright idea of moving you to the top floor and knocking down part of the roof, so you’d get some direct sunlight. Even came up with a ‘solar absorption suit’, but we vetoed it.”

Kara tilts her head. “Why’s that?”

Lena blushes. “It, uh...it was skin-tight.”

Alex snorts. “Hell of an understatement, Luthor. It was practically a gimp suit made out of flexible solar panels. Would’ve had to vacuum you in and everything.”

Kara’s ears suddenly get a little too warm. “Oh.”

“It was a genuinely good idea – the technology would’ve amplified the amount of sunlight your system could take in, sped up your recovery tenfold. But you were already stable and it really was quite lurid, so we decided against it.” –Lena explains, embarrassed.

“I see...” –Kara hums. “Well, I made it. We all did, right? We won?”

Alex sighs, leaning back into her chair. “Centipede lost this one, for sure, but I’m not so sure that means you guys won.” –she says.

“We’ve got the Serum, the armor, the data, and that damn sword.” –Lena counters. “All things considered, I’d call that a victory.”

“A growing portion of the public wouldn’t. Not to mention the governments and corporations growing concerned that you guys straight up co-opted about a third of OsCorp International.” –Alex says, then shakes her head, turning to Kara. “But we’ve been over this already. We shouldn’t bum you out when you’ve just woken up.”

Kara frowns. “No, I wanna hear it. What happened after I got beat?”

The sliding door opens again. Doctor Helen Cho walks in, holding a tablet. “I see Agent Danvers continues to be the only one of you three with any common sense. I expressly forbid any work talk until after I evaluate my patient, ladies. Now, off you go, Miss Luthor. Family only.”

Lena doesn’t look very happy about it, but she rises from her seat. She gives her hand a little squeeze before she files out. “I’ll let everyone know you’re up.” –Lena says. “Assuming you’re cleared, they’ll all want to see you...and you do need to catch up. There were more than a few developments while you were out.”

She, too, exits the room. Doctor Cho rolls her eyes. “’Assuming you’re cleared’, she says. You’re an extraterrestrial lifeform who just miraculously recovered from a fatal wound in just over a week. If it were up to me, I’d keep you in observation until we can understand just how the hell your body healed so quickly. But it isn’t, so I won’t.” –she laments. “Not that I could examine you to my heart’s content, anyway, but it seems like you’ve become something of a hero, Supergirl. People need you, out there.” –she smirks.

Kara chuckles. “S.H.I.E.L.D.’s Index evaluators always complained about me. My skin’s so impenetrable I can’t even get an X-Ray.” –she recalls, amused, then sighs. “Or...I guess it was.”

“I can hardly imagine.” –Helen says, as she monitors her readings. “If it helps at all, this is extremely unlikely to happen again. The blade you were wounded by is heavily secured, and seems to be unique, if S.H.I.E.L.D.’s spectrometric sweep of the globe is to be trusted.”

The blonde takes a hand to her abdomen, feeling the rough, tilted scar left behind by the sword. It doesn’t hurt at all, but something in her core clenches at the memory of the blade sliding through her with ease. “Just what was it? What was that sword made out of?”

Alex purses her lips. “A highly irradiated, extraterrestrial mineral.”

Doctor Cho pipes up. “Its radiation doesn’t seem to have any short or medium term effects on humans – though it does behave very similarly to gamma radiation – but it almost seems designed to annihilate Kryptonian biology, specifically when it’s powered up. The blood we recovered from the scene...it all showed signs of intense, accelerated cellular degradation. Even if this Doctor Doom character hadn’t decided to stab you with it, you would’ve died within fifteen, maybe twenty minutes of continued exposure to the sword. Though fortunately, there are some caveats to this.”

She sets the tablet aside and pushes the monitors away, instructing Kara to sit on the bedside for a check-up. Alex stands beside her, face full of concern. “The mineral’s potency decays exponentially as you get farther away from it. I could place it in the corner and you’d only feel some moderate nausea. Put it outside this room, and you’d barely feel a thing.”

Alex sighs. “Being so close to von Doom, there was nothing you could do when he pulled the sword, but now, you and your team know better. Even if he somehow manages to produce another sword like it, he won’t be able to pull the same shit again.”

Kara shakes her head as the stethoscope settles on her chest. “I just...I don’t understand. How do you know so much about it already? How could Doctor Doom figure all of this out? Heck, how could Fury?”

Doctor Cho’s hand stills. Alex purses her lips. “JARVIS, is the room secure?”

“From everyone but me. You may speak freely, Agent Danvers.” –he quips.

“What’s going on?” –Kara frowns.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but...Victor von Doom didn’t find the shard. He stole it, from one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s experimental tech vaults.” –she says. “They call it Kryptonite. It...would appear that it accompanied you on your trip here.”

Kara pales. “You mean...you mean that thing is a piece of Krypton?”

“Fury is the only one who knows all the details, and he’s refused to share everything.” –Alex says, chagrined. “But yeah, the crystal is a small sliver of your homeworld – probably igneous material that rapidly cooled in the vacuum of space, if I were to guess.”

Kara takes a hand to her forehead. “But...that can’t be right.” –she says. “They showed me everything they recovered from the crash, and there wasn’t anything like that crystal in the wreckage.”

“Think about it, Kara.” –Alex says. “You started showing off superpowers almost as soon as you were exposed to sunlight. You proved invulnerable to everything they could throw at you. You know how reactionary we can be against potential superpowered threats.” –she admits. “S.H.I.E.L.D. found the shard among the wreckage. While you were adjusting to your new powers, they examined your vessel, and they discovered that the Kryptonian tissue – hairs and dead skin cells – left behind by you and your parents had been charged by our sunlight, and subsequently corrupted by the Kryptonite fragment. They had a way to take you out, if needed. Why would they ever tell you?” –she asks, rhetorically, then chuckles, bitterly. “Why would we ever tell you?”

Kara’s lips press tightly together. “Did you know about this, Alex?”

Her step-sister quickly shakes her head. She looks utterly enraged. “No. Trust me, Kara. If they’d told me, I would’ve quit on the spot. The only reason I haven’t put in my resignation yet is because I’ve barely left this room.”

“No, Alex, please don’t quit yet.” –Kara urges. Alex looks bewildered. “I know this is a major breach of trust, and they don’t deserve you, but...between what we’ve uncovered so far, and this Kryptonite business, I can’t help but think there’s someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. who wants me dead, and we need to find them.”

“Kara, you’re...you’re asking me to work with people who came up with a way to kill you. I don’t even know if I can stomach obeying Hill, now, let alone Fury.” –she winces. “Besides, I think...I think the Avengers might already be putting some kind of plan in motion.”

Doctor Cho sighs. “I don’t enjoy being proven wrong, Agent Danvers.” –she chides. “I said ‘no work talk’ and I meant it – the Kryptonite reveal was arguably too much already. Even if I empathize, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave until I finish the examination. You may resume your plotting afterwards.”

Alex purses her lips, but nods. “You’re right, Doctor, I’m sorry. I’ll let you finish.” –she says, then turns to Kara. “I’ll bring you some clothes. We’ll probably be at the briefing room when you’re done.”

“Okay. Thanks, sis.” –the blonde says. Alex leaves with a final worried glance.

“I’m sorry, Kara.” –Doctor Cho says. “I’ll let you go ASAP.”

“It’s okay, Doctor. You’re right, I should take it easier for a while.” –Kara admits.

Cho hums. “Be sure to do so. In weirdly morbid but perhaps more interesting news, I wanted to ask for your permission.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “What for?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. collected roughly four pints of your blood from the underground facility. They would’ve kept it, but your teammates raised enough of a fuss that Fury ordered it surrendered to us.” –she says.

Kara tilts her head. “I’m assuming you can’t just...put it back in.” –she jokes.

Doctor Cho snorts. “No, but you wouldn’t want me to. Let’s just say it’d fail the ‘five second rule’ test.” –she smirks. “More to the point, your body replenished this volume days ago, thanks to whatever healing factor your already incredible power set has also seen fit to give you.”

“Right. So what do you wanna do with it?” –Kara asks.

“Research and understand the full potential of Kryptonian genes, of course.” –she says, giving her a devilish smile. “Tony Stark may have hired me on to be the Avengers’ physician, but my true passion and expertise lies in genetics. In Doctor Doom's haste to destroy you, he could’ve inadvertently given us – or rather, you – the means to understand and unleash your full potential. To master your current powers...and perhaps even discover ones you didn’t even know you had.”

Chapter Text

Kara finally gets a good look at her brand new scar, changing into the clothes Alex brought her. It’s pretty impossible to miss – a gnarled, diagonal line of hastily reknit tissue, some two or three inches long, just above and to the right of her belly button. There’s a smaller but matching scar on her back, where the tip of the blade broke through. She briefly considers getting a tattoo to make something beautiful out of her injury, like Alex did with her old gunshot scar, but she’s pretty sure no needle on Earth can pierce her skin.

Just the one sword, of course.

She sighs, and finishes dressing up. Someone’s left her cape on her bed, entirely unharmed, neatly folded and washed clean of her blood and other such detritus from the battle. A quick query with JARVIS confirms that the rest of her suit, minus the synth-vibranium symbol of the House of El, is a total loss. As sad as she’ll be to see it go, she asks that the new iteration forego the skirt – all it really does is get ripped up or torn off, anyway, but beyond that, it almost feels a little too...innocent. Cute, no doubt, but maybe more appropriate for the Supergirl who hadn’t yet tasted bitter defeat. She hopes Pepper will forgive her.

The mood in the Tower is tense; S.H.I.E.L.D. has more or less invaded, occupying three or four floors under the top section dedicated to the Avengers and their support staff and facilities. It’s not just field agents, either; scientists, engineers, analysts, and even administrative personnel emblazoned with the ever-present eagle logo have also set up shop throughout Avengers Tower. She even recognizes some agents from the Index program, but they all avoid her gaze – in fact, everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. garb seems to be avoiding her.

She wonders just how widespread the whole ‘Fury had a weapon made to kill Supergirl’ idea might be, a week after the fact.

“Over here!” –Alex calls out, waving her over at the elevator.

Kara was too groggy earlier to realize just how weird her sister looks out of her service uniform; it’s been so long since they just...hung out and talked, between Alex’s dedication to her duties in the agency, and Kara’s half-hearted attempt at clawing her way into the journalism world, that the image of Alex in her head has almost morphed to that of an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. first, and her older sister second. She shudders to think that she could’ve died thinking of her this way – but if there’s a silver lining to her brush with death, it’s that she has a chance to rectify this, and any other things about her life that she’s taken for granted.

Alex hugs her tightly, unprompted – rather uncharacteristically, which tells Kara that her sister might be on the same page. Kara holds her hands afterward. “What did Doctor Cho say?” –Alex asks.

Kara glances around, eyes narrowed with distrust. “I got a clean bill of health.” –she says, vaguely.

Her sister seems to get the idea. “Come on, then. Your friends will be happy to see you.”

The elevator doors close. The digital panel scans them both, and grants them passage to the upper levels – which makes Kara raise an eyebrow, as Alex’s name and picture pops up filed under the Avengers’ logo, same as hers. “Did you...sign onto the team?” –Kara wonders.

Alex snorts. “Not the way you did.” –she says. “I’m no superhero, Kara. I’m...’support staff’, I think Stark called it? I’m here for you. I know your body healed right back to normal, but what you went through? Speaking from experience, that’s not so easy to shrug off.”

Kara purses her lips. “I’m okay, Alex. I promise.” –she says, though she doesn’t really buy it herself. Neither does Alex, from the looks of it. “You got the Kryptonite back, right?”

“Yeah, we’re keeping it here for the time being.” –she says, then realizes that might not be what Kara wants to hear. “Don’t worry; it’s locked inside a lead-lined steel box and monitored by JARVIS 24/7. It can’t affect you at all. You ask me, it should’ve been destroyed already, but...I think the Avengers wanted to ask you what should be done about it.”

The Kryptonian’s first instinct is to toss the thing into the sun; simply knowing there’s a rock out there that’s deadly to her – and only her – is almost too disturbing to consider, especially considering how easy it apparently was for Victor to steal it from S.H.I.E.L.D. However, logic wins out over her instinctive fear – Kryptonite is exactly what the Avengers would need to stop her, should she ever go rogue or become compromised. She definitely doesn’t think anyone needs a whole dang sword made out of the stuff, but having enough to give them a fighting chance might be ideal.

She can only imagine Bruce would kill for something that could stop the Hulk’s rampages as quickly and easily as Kryptonite stopped her.

“I think I have an idea.” –she says. “But that can wait. I want you to catch me up on everything that happened while I was out.”

Alex exhales, mildly overwhelmed. “What didn’t?” –she asks, rhetorically. “No joke, I think taking on the the all-American institution that is OsCorp might’ve gotten the Avengers more headlines than the actual alien invasion you guys stopped.”

“That bad, huh?” –Kara winces.

“Some, yeah, but it’s not all bad.” –Alex reassures her. “There was a purge at OsCorp, but most of the jobs not related to the underground facilities were kept intact after the Stark Industries takeover.”

“Oh, I heard something about that when I woke up.” –Kara remembers. “How did that happen?”

Alex hums. “Well, after the news broke and Wall Street reacted to the whole illegal human experimentation business accordingly, the OsCorp board couldn’t get rid of their shares quickly enough. It was Pepper’s idea to snatch them up and fold OsCorp’s NYC branch into Stark Industries, turning it into a new biochemistry division and a headquarters for the company on the East Coast, all at the same time. S.H.I.E.L.D. pulled some strings so the FTC would let the merger happen without a hitch – they figure it’d be a lot easier to investigate just what the hell Centipede was up to under the SI banner than if Norman Osborn was involved.”

Kara frowns. “And what, Osborn just let Stark Industries gobble up half his company? That’s not really like him, even if he is on his death bed.”

Alex shrugs, though she does look somewhat concerned. “His legal reps put out a statement for him in support of a full investigation into the company’s wrongdoings. But he’s claiming complete ignorance, and he’s obviously not taking this takeover lying down – he still owns half of the company’s shares, and all of OsCorp’s remaining facilities and operations around the globe, and they made sure to note that in the statement.”

“I feel like that’ll come back to bite us in the ass, somehow.” –Kara says, sarcastic.

“That’s a safe bet.” –Alex agrees. “But we’ll be ready. I know it’s only been a week, but everyone’s been hard at work trying to make sure that the Avengers won’t be caught unprepared like that again. A lot has changed while you were sleeping.”

Almost on cue, a gust of frigid air and a bright blue glow burst out of Tony’s workshop. Kara raises an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “What’s going on in there?” –she wonders.

“Don’t look at me, I’m a bio-engineer. Whatever shenanigans Stark gets up to, they’re bound to be outside my field.” –she says, then tilts her head. “Then again, that didn’t stop Lena.”

Kara enters the workshop; she doesn’t have to wonder for long about what Alex means by ‘shenanigans’, as it seems Tony, Lena, Winn, and Peter are in the middle of an experiment – lab coats, safety glasses, and all. Stark is wearing a new gauntlet, from the looks of it – a sleeker, more life-like design, more reminiscent of a normal human arm than bulky armor to be worn. The other three seem to be monitoring the data collected from the experiment on a nearby holotable.

“Well, if it isn’t Miss Sunshine and Rainbows herself!” –Stark grins, lowering his gauntlet. “How’re you feeling, Goldilocks?”

“Great, actually.” –she smiles. “Those ancient Kryptonian gene-smiths really knew what they were doing, I guess. I healed right back to normal.”

Winn snorts. “’Ancient Kryptonian gene-smiths’, she says. I swear, I can’t believe we were arguing over pizza toppings just a month ago. What have our lives become, even?”

“Nothing but exciting opportunities to put ourselves at risk of grievous bodily harm.” –Lena notes, sarcastically.

Kara frowns. ‘Ourselves’?, she thinks to herself. “At least the tech is cool.” –Peter shrugs.

“Speaking of which, watch this.” –Tony says. His gauntlet whines with power, and four panels just behind the wrist slide back. He makes a fist, and points it at the target – the head and torso of a broken down HAMMER drone, probably from the battle above OsCorp. The gauntlet fires four identical lasers at the drone’s dented chest; nothing happens for a second, but then the panels start gyrating around the wrist, and the lasers coalesce into a beam that instantly freezes the target. The freeze ray turns off after a second or two, leaving behind a faint trail of hoarfrost, almost like an afterimage, that swiftly evaporates.

Kara only realizes her jaw is wide open after the demonstration ends. “And that, sisters Danvers, is my brand-spanking-new Freon Beam.” –he boasts, grinning like a madman.

“I keep telling him that calling it that will land him in legal hot water.” –Lena says, sneering at him. “’Freon’ is a trademark, and even if it wasn’t, it’s a greenhouse gas that’s been prohibited worldwide for ages. Greenpeace will have your head, Stark.”

“I voted for Frost Bolt.” –Winn pipes up.

Stark narrows his eyes at the contrarian pair. “I told you, it’s not a bolt. It’s a series of projected laser beams that supercool whatever’s in their path by blasting particles with photons and reducing their energy state, and thus their temperature, to near-absolute zero.”

“...and so you should call it a Bose-Einstein Condenser, after the physics concept you’re putting into practice.” –Lena drawls, long-suffering. “You should be giving proper credit, anyway.”

“Technically it’d be the ‘Cornell-Wieman Condenser’, since they’re the first ones who successfully created a Bose-Einstein condensate using the technique Mr. Stark is using in 1995.” –Peter helpfully supplies, then blushes, once he notices everyone looking at him. “But ‘Freon Beam’ definitely sounds a lot cooler!”

Tony points an armored finger at Peter. “See? Pete knows his stuff. Rule of Cool wins.”

Kara chuckles. “What’s this...scientific brotherhood you guys have got going on? I wasn’t down that long, was I?”

“Lena was mad that I made a glorified gimp suit to help you absorb sunlight better.” –Tony rolls his eyes. “Nevermind the fact that no one but Doctor Cho and maybe your sister would’ve seen you in it, or the significant efficiency boost it would’ve given you. So we dared each other to come up with something better – side note, still working on that – which spiraled off into multiple different collaborative projects, and that expanded to include everyone here plus Bruce.”

“He’s doing his morning yoga routine.” –Peter adds.

Winn rubs his hands with glee. “We’ve since donated all but eight or so hours of sleep to the noble cause of scientific advancement.” –he jokes. “And we’ve come up with a few fun toys for the Avengers to play with.”

Alex shakes her head. “I’ll go wrangle everyone else for a meeting. You guys have fun in the meantime.” –she says, giving Kara a meaningful look.

Tony shakes his head after Alex leaves. “Your sister turned down Science Bro membership, by the way. I know she’s technically unrelated to Maria Hill, but you couldn’t tell on account of how identically the two manage to suck all the fun out of a room.”

“You watch what you say about my sister, Iron Man.” –Kara jokingly warns. “Besides, I’m sure you’d say that about most sensible people.”

“This is known.” –Stark bows his head, sagely. “So, on to the subject of toys.”

The genius engineer presents her with several holographic blueprints. Among them, Kara spots a new Quinjet design, a new Iron Man suit following the sleeker design philosophy of the gauntlet he just tested, an updated version of Titanium Man’s armor, her new suit (already sans the skirt, as requested), and what looks like an Iron Man suit on copious amounts of anabolic steroids. “Again, I was only down for a week.” –Kara says, baffled. “How did you guys manage to do so much?”

“The power of teamwork and caffeine, I guess.” –Winn says. “Seriously, though, ever since S.H.I.E.L.D. took over Avengers Tower, we kind of holed up in here and avoided them as best we could.”

“Fury’s pissed off about almost everything that happened before, during, and after our little tussle with Centipede.” –Tony says. “Because we acted unilaterally, because we’re consorting with vigilantes, because we won’t surrender the Kryptonite to S.H.I.E.L.D., etcetera.”

Lena snorts. “It’s something of a useless gesture, anyway. The Avengers have been co-opted by S.H.I.E.L.D., have they not?”

Kara frowns. “What do you mean?”

Tony sheds the gauntlet, which retracts into itself, forming a vaguely cylindrical object the size of a closed fist. He looks entirely fed up with the situation Lena’s mentioned. “You know that bit of operational freedom Fury gave us to start with? Well, that particular leash has gotten considerably shorter.” –he says, bitterly. “He’s created a new S.H.I.E.L.D. division named S.T.R.I.K.E. – Special Tactical Reserve for International Key Emergencies, because we have to have stupid acronyms – and folded the Avengers into it.”

“It’s supposed to be a ‘command and support’ structure built around the team so you guys don’t go around clobbering Fortune 500 companies.” –Winn explains, sardonic. “...but in practice, it really sounds like they’re trying to turn you into Fury’s personal hit squad.”

“Rhodey’s in the Middle East right now, on a joint S.T.R.I.K.E.-Air Force op.” –Stark says, thoroughly annoyed. “Trying to take down some kind of new terrorist cell under this fancy new jackass calling himself the Mandarin.”

“Captain America just got back from a black market bust in Brazil yesterday.” –Peter adds. “He...didn’t look very happy about it.”

“…and Barton’s just shipped out to Russia. Something about a few loose ends Romanoff left behind when she was summoned for the Tesseract debacle.” –Stark sums up. “Even if we give Fury the benefit of the doubt about his ‘command and support’ bullshit, it kinda feels like he just doesn’t want us all to stick together.”

Kara scoffs. “What is he thinking? What if there’s a huge emergency, and half the team is on the other side of the planet?” –she pinches the bridge of her nose. “And just after Doctor freakin’ Doom proved that there’s people out there who can take us on, even as a team? What if he randomly decides to pop by the Tower and snuff a couple of us out, huh?”

The assembled science siblings all look at each other, and then back at her. “Well, uh...worry not, he can’t – our new wizard pal placed a bunch of wards that prevent him from doing just that – but, more importantly…you wanna talk about it?” –Stark wonders, a worried frown twisting his features.

The blonde plops down on a nearby rotating stool. “What’s there to say? He came in and kicked our collective butts – mine, worst of all. I guess I drank my own Kool-Aid, after all.” –she mutters. “I…I really thought I was invincible for a while, there.” –she admits.

“I think that was the point, Kara.” –Tony muses. “Think about it; if he really wanted you dead, he could’ve just decapitated you, or stabbed through your heart, or any number of surefire ways to kill a person. Hell, he could’ve killed all of us before the cavalry arrived.”

Lena rolls her eyes. “What Stark is blundering his way through saying is that everything he did was non-lethal, in a manner of speaking.” –she clarifies.

“But why do it in the first place? So he could, what, prove a point?” –Kara balks.

“He said he’d judged us and found us wanting.” –Stark recalls. “That we weren’t worthy of our powers and weapons – that we didn’t fight as ‘one force of justice’, whatever that means, and that when all else failed, we turned to you.”

Kara sighs. “’Unaware of just how fragile she really is’.” –she glumly mutters. “I remember.”

“Frankly, he’s in no position to judge. He wants to talk about being worthy, he should take a good, long look at himself – no one wielding the kind of power he does, the way he does, is worthy of anything but scorn.” –Lena sneers.

“Still made his point, didn’t he?” –Kara sighs.

“Maybe.” –Tony shrugs. “But honestly, so what? Like Luthor here said, if Victor von Doom truly cared about making sure Earth has the best defenders available, he’d be here, helping us – not beating the shit out of us and putting our heaviest hitter in the ICU. Whatever his intentions are, whatever priorities he claims to have? They’re overshadowed by his burning desire to be a massive dick.”

Lena gives her a tired smile. “If you think this horrible ordeal has taught you anything of value, then by all means, learn from the experience.” –she says. “But don’t let it be on his terms. Don’t let his ghost hang over you. No one that cruel and sadistic gets to define what a hero should be like.”

Kara hums. It’s not that easy, of course – even if her thoughts didn’t stray every so often to the image of Victor’s soulless eyes staring carelessly at her as he plunged the Kryptonite blade into her abdomen, the fact that he’s out there, free to strike again at his whim, will probably keep her up at night for a very long time. But knowing he’s out there is its own silver lining – she knows the kind of threat he poses, now, and she can strive to prepare as best she can for the next time they come face to face.

And there will be a next time; even if Victor decided to retire from being a supervillain to a cozy little cabin in the Latverian wilderness while she was out, they now have a score to settle. Her mother would doubtless urge her to forgive and forget, as was the way of the House of El, but in this particular instance, she’s willing to be a bit more like Astra – that is to say, to hold a grudge, and wish for revenge.

But that’ll be then, and this is now, so she settles for a brave face and a reassuring smile. Lena holds her hands, and at least for the moment, her thoughts settle on the present – on the precious warmth between her palms, and the soft, emerald gaze searching her own azure orbs.

The men in the room all stare at each other, knowingly. Thankfully, they know better than to break the spell.

Unfortunately, Bruce Banner doesn’t; he comes bursting into the workshop, looking more excited and energized than Kara’s ever seen him. “Tony, I’ve got it! Nerve agents! We can put dispensers in Veronica’s wrists!” –he rambles, then stops in his tracks. He looks back and forth between Lena and Kara, and blushes, rubbing the back of his head. “…oh dear. I, uh…interrupted something, didn’t I?”

The pair laugh nervously. They separate a bit, all too conscious of their closeness now, but Kara gently insists on holding one of Lena’s hands. She clears her throat. “Hey Bruce.” –she greets. “So, um…’Veronica’, huh? Who’s the lucky girl?”

Chapter Text

The ‘lucky girl’, as it turns out, is a one-and-a-half ton modular weapons platform – as it can scarce be called a suit – lovingly and specifically designed to take down the Hulk.

“You named the Hulkbuster ‘Veronica’?” –Kara questions, baffled.

“It’s just a nickname.” –Bruce shrugs, mildly embarrassed.

Tony puts his arm around the scientist’s neck, grinning like a madman. “If Betty was the salt of the earth, girl-next-door kind of gal in Brucey’s life, then Veronica is the take-no-shit, stone cold badass meant to take him down a peg when he’s gone a little green – and of course, when you’re not around.” –he explains. “Seriously, though, the ‘Mark XLIV Orbitally Deployed Modular Superhuman Interdiction System’ doesn’t exactly roll of the tongue.”

Kara’s eyebrow raises, examining the holographic blueprint. She can see the system in theoretical motion; the Hulkbuster is kept disassembled in orbit, within a satellite tasked with tracking Bruce’s position at all times. When needed, the satellite launches the platform planetside, which in turn hovers in midair at a safe distance from the theoretical fight and launches the armor pieces, which unfold and interlock into the massive suit around the already powerful Iron Man. Just at a glance, Kara can see no less than eleven current-gen synth-vibranium arc reactors powering the armored behemoth, two massive repulsor cannons on each palm, rocket boosters capable of achieving escape velocity, hydraulic battering rams on each fist, prehensile restraining gauntlets, shoulder-mounted hypersonic amplifiers, a battleship’s worth of missiles and high caliber ammunition…basically, enough firepower to single-handedly take on NATO – or in this case, a rampaging Hulk.

The blonde shakes her head, awed by the sheer engineering prowess on display. She wishes, more than ever, that her parents could see this – could see that a planet they’d charitably consider primitive would be capable of technological marvels that might even give the mighty children of Krypton pause. “This is incredible. And ‘Mark XLIV’, that’s…a lot of iterations, isn’t it?”

“In fairness, the numbering system includes all of my previous suits and the specialized modular systems designed to mix and match with forty-two.” –Stark says, nodding at the blueprint for his latest Iron Man suit – the prehensile, sleeker design the Freon Beam prototype he just tested is a part of, designated Mark XLII, and nicknamed the ‘Prodigal Son’ for its robust pilot seeking capabilities. “But yes, we’ve been pretty busy lately.”

“No kidding.” –Kara says.

“Insane though he might be, Victor kind of lit a fire under our asses.” –Tony admits. “I thought we were at the top of our game, but…clearly, we have lots of growing pains left to go through. It’s not just the tech, either; we’ve been trying our best to design contingency plans so we don’t have to get bailed out by the cavalry next time. We may not be able to plan for every superpowered jackass out there, but we can damn well give it our best shot.”

Kara can’t help but feel equal parts excited and guilty. As cool as the showcase is, it really does seem like the Avengers were forced to shift gears into overdrive because she’s so potentially fragile all of a sudden; obviously, there’s many more factors at play, so it’s not as simple as that, but she figures she bears at least a little bit of the blame. The others would probably argue against it, though, so she keeps quiet.

Which is just as well, as Natasha chooses that moment to open the door to the workshop.

She looks a little worse for wear; her left arm is wrapped in bandages and held in a simple sling, and she seems to be wearing a sort of harness or flexible corset around her ribs. She isn’t in her Kevlar catsuit, for once, instead clad in simple black yoga pants, pink ballet flats, and an oversized S.H.I.E.L.D.-issue sweatshirt – conspicuously embroidered with the name ‘C. F. Barton’.

“Kara. Gotta say, looking a lot better out of a hospital gown.” –she notes, with a small but genuinely relieved smirk. “Everyone’s ready for the meeting.”

“Go ahead, Kara.” –Tony says. “We’ll finish up here and join you in five.”

Kara glances at Lena, who smiles and gives her hands a reassuring squeeze. She nods, following Natasha out of the room. Kara notices then that she’s limping, too. “I’m fine, Kara.” –the redhead reassures her, surely having noticed her constant worried glances. “Victor did a number on me, but I heal quickly. The Red Room made sure of that.”

Kara tilts her head. She knows precious little about the Black Widow’s past, much like everyone else except Barton, Fury, and the late Agent Coulson. “What’s the ‘Red Room’?”

Romanoff glances at her. “I suppose my dossier is full of black bars.” –she muses. “The Red Room was a Soviet spin-off of HYDRA’s superhuman enhancement program, in turn their attempt to replicate Erskine’s Serum, which gave Steve his abilities. They booted the program back up after the War, when they captured some of the HYDRA scientists working on it, and made us into Black Widow operatives – only the Kremlin used us for espionage and assassination, not frontline fighting. Cold War gold foil variant, you understand.” –she says, sarcastically.

Kara winces. “Vaguely. The United States and Russia held the Earth hostage with nuclear weapons for decades, or something like that? I was never much of a history buff, even on Krypton.”

“That’s more or less the gist of it. Might wanna give it a second look, though, if you’d like to understand why S.H.I.E.L.D. is the way it is. Best way to get ahead of your enemies.”

The blonde tilts her head, surprised. “Oh? We’re at enemies, now?”

There’s a dangerous edge to Natasha’s scowl. “Don’t get me wrong; Fury gave me a second chance. If not for him…well, I’d be dead by now. Clint chose to spare me in the moment, but Fury let me truly survive – kept me safe from the Red Room and the other Widows, giving me S.H.I.E.L.D.’s full protection. But…he’s also partly to blame for your injury. If we’d known about Kryptonite beforehand, we might’ve been able to protect you from it. Not to mention S.H.I.E.L.D.’s general incompetence in handling such a dangerous weapon.”

“Well, to be fair, Kryptonite is only really lethal to me. And Doom used some kind of magic to steal it, right?” –Kara reasons.

“You really don’t need to defend them, Kara. Even if they picked you up after you crashed and gave you a family, you’ve given back more than enough.” –Natasha gives her an odd look. “But…I suppose you’re right. I just feel…angry, on your behalf. Fury almost treated me, a remorseless assassin, like his own daughter, and then he goes and makes an actual sword designed to kill the best of all of us.”

It’s not exactly the lightest subject matter, but Kara still manages a knowing smirk. “Wow, I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”

“About anyone, probably. Don’t let it go to your head.” –Romanoff snorts. “At any rate, the Red Room made us into perfect assassins and sent us on our merry, murdering way. The only thing I can thank them for is giving me a minor healing factor – I’ll be back to normal in a week or two. Doesn’t really balance out the rest of the horror they put us through, but it’s…something.”

Kara hums. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re okay, too.” –she says. “It was terrifying, seeing him take us down so quickly and easily.”

“I guess I’m glad I can’t see, then.” –a man says, behind them. Kara recognizes the soft-spoken voice, turning to face Matt Murdock. He looks very different, in his lawyer’s attire; he wears a somewhat ill-fitting dark gray suit, a red tie that matches his opaque round glasses, and a black shirt – the better to conceal his oft-bleeding injuries, Kara figures. Safe in the Avengers level, he’s folded up his walking stick, which tells Kara he’s shared his identity with the group. “Judging by the stench of blood at the scene, it can’t have been pretty.”

“Murdock.” –Romanoff greets, coolly.

“Miss Romanoff.” –he retorts, polite as can be. “I take it our sparring session will have to wait a little further, then?”

Natasha smirks. “Not too long, d’yavolenok.”

Kara doesn’t speak Russian, but she gets the gist. “I really, really missed a lot, huh?”

“A few things, yes.” –Matt says. “We’ll get you up to speed, soon enough.”

The trio enters the briefing room, a fancy-looking space dominated by a massive, elongated table, shaped like a very lengthy oval. The Avengers logo boldly marks its very center in brilliant crimson. Kara counts twenty comfy-looking chairs around the steel table, but it’s so large that she could easily see it fitting ten more.

There are five people already inside; from closest to farthest, she sees Steve, Alex, Sue Storm, and Skye. A tall, unidentified man with a goatee stands in the opposite corner of the room, looking out at the city through blast proof glass. He looks a little bit familiar, but Kara can’t quite place him, yet – even though his choice of attire, a perfectly fitted designer suit and an odd-but-fashionable red sash around his torso, is pretty distinctive. Everyone stops talking as she files in – and then they immediately erupt in relief and cheer to see her back on her feet.

“I hope it’s not too old fashioned of me to say, but…thank God you’re okay, Kara.” –Steve says, standing up from his seat.

“Personally, I’d thank Rao.” –Kara jokes. “But seriously, I’m…glad to be back. It’s honestly kinda nice to know I have a bit of a failsafe going on, in case my invulnerability fails.”

“Even I take a little while to heal. Haven’t seen anything like it since the War.” –Steve notes. “Only ever known one other person to heal that quickly, and he wasn’t nearly as personable.”

Kara tilts her head. “Oh?”

“Yeah…no matter how hurt he got, he’d be back up and at it in seconds. Saw him take a bullet to the head and the only thing he complained about was the blood throwing off his aim.” –Steve shakes his head, reminiscing. “Odd fella by the name of Logan. Canadian, I think? Something of a lone wolf the Howling Commandos worked with for a few months. Not much of a soldier, really – honestly, I think he just wanted to kill Nazis. Good drinking partner – Bucky hated him though.”

Romanoff narrows her eyes. “I feel like I’ve heard about someone like this before.”

“Well, you know us old people. Repeating ourselves and whatnot.” –Steve shrugs, coyly. “At any rate, I’m glad you were able to bounce back so quickly.”

“Aren’t we all?” –the man she doesn’t recognize says, sauntering towards them. “We’d be rather hard-pressed to defend the Earth without our Supergirl, after all.”

Kara manages a confused smile. “I’m sorry, have we met? You seem…familiar.”

“I suppose I might be, even if I’ve not been in the public eye for some time.” –he muses. He bows, slightly, and introduces himself. “Doctor Stephen Strange. One-time foremost neurosurgeon in the field, current Sorcerer Supreme.”

The blonde snaps her fingers in recognition. “Oh! Yeah, I remember you now. I…thought you were dead. The Bugle published your obituary, and everything.”

Strange snickers. “Did they? I’m not surprised. I left New York for a long time, after the accident that took my hands.” –he says, holding up his horrifically scarred extremities. Even if they weren’t, the constant shaking and extreme stiffness are evidence enough of the terribly traumatic injury. “And I have been something of a shut-in since my return.”

Kara hums. “I see. So, ‘Sorcerer Supreme’, huh? Are you the ‘wizard pal’ Tony mentioned, then?”

The man rolls his eyes. “While I am the man Tony mentioned, I am no mere wizard. Just as the Avengers have been implicitly charged with the protection of the mortal world, the Sorcerer Supreme is tasked with defending Earth from perils of a magical nature, be they from within or beyond the borders of our reality.”

The Girl of Steel ponders the Sorcerer’s rather grandiose mission statement; magic had all but died on Krypton by the time she was born, but her people knew it to exist and be respected, even feared. Even through Krypton’s isolationist policies, towards the end of the empire, she had known other species to have their own gods and branches of sorcery. She’d been surprised upon arrival to find that humans, too, believed in gods and the supernatural – when, to all appearances, there seemed to be little to no concrete evidence to prove its existence on Earth.

Until now, apparently.

“I rather feel like I must apologize, Miss Danvers.” –Strange purses his lips. “Your injury at the hands of Victor von Doom could’ve been prevented, had I been more vigilant.”

Kara frowns. “What do you mean? You know Victor?”

“No one better.” –he admits. “But the story is complicated, and there is much else to discuss beforehand. I’ll wait for my turn, if you don’t mind.”

She hums. She does mind, a little, but she can hear the rest of their group coming, so she bides her time. Moments later, they pour in; Tony leads the way, and everyone sits down. If there’s a pattern to it, she can’t tell, but she’s sat between Alex and Lena, probably for maximum emotional support. Sue switches sides and moves to the other side, looking distinctly uneasy amidst the Avengers. Kara shoots her a reassuring glance, which the oft-invisible woman returns, if a little bit more unconvincing.

“Should we be discussing our evil plot to bring about the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. with not one, but two spies in our midst?” –Tony asks, shit-eating grin in full display.

“Har-har.” –Alex grumbles. “I can and will smack that grin off your face, Stark.”

Tony shrugs. “No points for originality, Danvers. I get that one a lot.”

“Can you guys just not?” –Kara requests. “I hear there’s a lot to talk about, so let’s get to it.”

“Agreed.” –Steve says. “Plenty of time for pettiness later. We need to discuss the state of this team and our modus operandi going forward. Not to mention, pooling our findings on Centipede and Victor von Doom.”

“Such a ridiculous name.” –Lena mutters. Agreement sweeps through the room.

“But first, Kara.” –Rogers turns to her. “What’d Doctor Cho say?”

Kara tries her best not to shrink under everyone’s gaze. “Obviously, she had a little trouble examining me – impenetrable skin and all – but she gave me a clean bill of health. As far as anyone can tell, all the damage caused by the Kryptonite blade was repaired and there don’t seem to be any lingering physical repercussions.” –she reports. “She…also said she wanted to study my blood, potentially help me understand my powers better.”

Steve nods, serious. “She said as much to us, too. Much like the Kryptonite dagger, we want you to be the one to decide what to do with it. They affect you more than anyone else.”

“Right. About that.” –Kara takes a deep breath. “I gave Doctor Cho the go-ahead, and…I’d like to keep the Kryptonite.”

Much like she expected, everyone starts to protest – Alex and Lena loudest of all, of course – but she swiftly shuts them down. “I’ve already mulled it over, and I don’t wanna argue about it. Fury has a lot to answer for, but the idea of keeping something that could subdue me if I went rogue isn’t without merit. Bruce gets the Hulkbuster; I get the Kryptonite. Snap off a small shard, and destroy the rest. Polish the edges away, and keep it somewhere handy and well protected – and don’t tell me where it is. I’ll trust you all not to use it unless the situation calls for it.”

Alex balks at her idea. “Kara, that’s…it’s such a risk, you can’t be serious!”

“Look, I may not want to be treated like one, but S.H.I.E.L.D. is right to call me a walking WMD.” –Supergirl reasons. “I don’t wanna hurt anyone that doesn’t deserve it. I’ve seen enough death and destruction in my life – I won’t be the cause of any more, not willingly. So, if someone were to somehow override my will and use my powers for ill, I want you – all of you – to do whatever it takes to stop me. That includes exposing me to Kryptonite, no matter how painful it might be. And if I can’t be snapped out of it? You let that damn green rock poison me until I can’t hurt anyone anymore. That’s my final decision.”

Her sister remains worried beyond belief, but she can see the strange mixture of awe, pride, and respect staring back at her. She glances at Lena, who seems to be experiencing every aforementioned emotion plus unfathomable rage – and perhaps, a bit of honest-to-goodness love.

Steve, mostly proud, nods approvingly. “I promise to honor your request.” –he says, solemnly, and turns to Strange. “Doctor, if you will?”

Strange tilts his head, and waves his beleaguered hands, which become encircled by complex geometric designs, glowing amber with what must be human magic. Before him, a sphere sprouts into existence, containing the Kryptonite blade. Something in Kara’s core clenches at the sight of it, but she forces herself to stare at the weapon – if nothing else, the process is fascinating. She looks on as the dagger completely disintegrates, inch by inch, until only a jagged fragment the size of a cherry remains. The crystal then reshapes itself, following Strange’s hypnotic hand motions, into a perfectly polished sphere, which vanishes along with his magic.

“Done.” –the Sorcerer Supreme reports. “We’ll discuss a good location for safekeeping later, but know that it is beyond Victor’s reach – though frankly, I doubt he’ll ever try to find or use Kryptonite again.”

“How could you know that?” –Kara wonders.

“Because he doesn’t need it, now that he’s proved his point.” –Strange admits. “From what I’ve gathered, your prodigious strength and indestructible body are no more resistant to the whims of magic than any of ours – barring any protective spellwork, of course.”

Kara frowns. “What? Really?”

“You were paralyzed by the simplest of curses.” –Strange says, deadpan. “There is far more powerful magic out there. Victor certainly knows some.”

“You keep hyping up the bastard, Stephen.” –Tony says, frowning. “Are you finally spilling the beans, or are we in for another week of your cryptic bullshit?”

Strange smirks. “Come, now; being cryptic is practically in the job description, Tony. But I’ll get to it as soon as you lot are done.”

Tony grimaces. “Ugh. You aren’t even British, man.” –he mutters. Strange ignores him.

“I suppose Centipede is next in the order of business, then.” –Lena pushes the conversation forward. She taps the table, which lights up in response, like a touch screen. Overhead hologram projectors display a plethora of information – data they’ve gathered on Centipede over the prior weeks.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. wants to take point on the investigation going forward, but I think I can speak for all of us when I say we can’t possibly drop this.” –Steve says. “Even if they hadn’t all but made it personal, Centipede isn’t a one-off threat; they’re still out there, and even though we’ve dealt them a decent blow at OsCorp, all signs point to the conspiracy being far larger and more dangerous than we thought. Too dangerous, I think, even for S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Not to mention the moles at S.H.I.E.L.D. we’ve started to suspect.” –Alex says, coldly.

Kara shifts, uncomfortable at the notion. “You guys are suspicious too, huh?” –she says. “I thought something was up the minute Titanium Man called me a Kryptonian. Doctor Doom, too.”

Romanoff snorts. “I can’t believe we’re really calling him that.”

“He does have several PhDs.” –Bruce muses.

Rogers’ lips press thinly together at the ongoing efforts to derail the conversation, conscious or otherwise. “The fact of the matter is, Centipede knew we were coming. Even though our mission was planned just a few hours ahead, they had enough personnel to keep us busy until their reinforcements arrived. If our good Doctors Banner and Strange here hadn’t brought in the cavalry when they did, we would’ve been hard pressed to defend. Maybe even to survive.”

“Not to play Devil’s Advocate,” –Matt says, smiling cheekily at his own turn of phrase, “but there are many groups attached to this conspiracy – even some whose members, masters of stealth and subterfuge, might be capable of infiltrating S.H.I.E.L.D. and stealing their secrets. While I wouldn’t recommend disregarding the idea of moles within the agency entirely, it might not be the agents themselves we have to worry about.”

“Besides, it wasn’t hard to find out what you guys were up to. All I had to do was snoop in on the lovebirds’ DMs.” –Skye says, looking a little too proud of herself. Lena and Kara both blush, embarrassed, but they don’t argue the point.

“Did you guys figure out where the reinforcements came from?” –Kara wonders. “What do we know about them?”

“They were led by a man named Edison Po.” –Natasha drawls. “Former marine, fell off the grid four years ago. He’s not talking.”

“The mech suits were old. HYDRA designs from ’45 they never got to realize, thanks to Aunt Peggy and the Commandos.” –Tony says. “They ran out of resources back then, but I guess someone managed to fund a few. They don’t have much in the way of weaponry – they were intended to field Tesseract-powered blaster cannons – but their bulk is dangerous enough, I guess.”

Steve nods. “JARVIS, if you would.” –he requests. The AI shifts the hologram to showcase a map of New York and the surrounding areas. “Centipede’s reinforcements came from a hidden depot upstate, about twelve miles northwest from the Cold War-era bunker. The facility was abandoned by the time S.H.I.E.L.D. raided it, but it used to belong to HAMMER Industries, before they sold it to a Silicon Valley tech start-up called AIM. Neither company admitted to being aware of the buildings true purpose; the sale is recent, so it’s possible that AIM was indeed unaware, but considering the upgraded HAMMER drones at the battle, we must treat Justin Hammer and his company as a potential threat. Hammer himself has claimed deniability, since he’s on parole and under strict surveillance.”

Tony snorts. “Don’t believe a word that little worm says. Greedy little bastard.”

Peter stares at the image of the bespectacled man in question with something almost approaching anger in his eyes. Kara wouldn’t have thought it possible from such a sweet kid, but...well, his parents did die at the Stark Expo, presumably at the hands of Hammer’s failed drones. No one could fault him for a little well-deserved hatred.

“Don’t worry. Between the drones and the woman wearing the Whiplash harness, we can be reasonably certain they’re involved.” –Natasha says. “We’ll find the evidence.”

Kara crosses her arms. “What happened with her, by the way?”

“She’s in custody.” –Alex pipes up. “Being interrogated by S.H.I.E.L.D., not that they’ll get much out of her.”

“How come?”

“She’s been Enhanced with some version of Centipede’s serum.” –Rogers says, grim. “It granted her strength and agility, sure, but the cocktail also made her prone to hallucinations and dissociation. Not to mention it destroyed her vocal chords, along with several other such soft tissues.”

“It’s horrific.” –Lena says, hotly. “And she didn’t deserve any of it. Facial recognition places her as a homeless addict named Sasha, in Moscow. She was abducted off the streets three months ago; now we know they turned her into a mute killing machine.”

Kara winces. “Rao, what a mess.”

“She’s one of the lucky ones, too.” –Stark leans back. “From the data Skye gathered, we know the process isn’t always successful. And when it fails, well...it ain’t pretty.”

“They burn to death, from the inside out.” –Winn clarifies, knowing her well enough that she’d rather have the full picture than be left to imagine the possibilities. “Their cells become so incredibly charged with energy that their integrity fails. It’s like trillions of tiny napalm bombs going off inside you. Only one in ten survive.”

“That’s why they needed this.” –Lena nods at the hologram, which shifts to display the segmented fluid container she took from them. “A Chitauri techno-organic fluid regulator. For the aliens, it contained everything they needed to survive – nutrients, water, nitrogen to breathe, etc. For Centipede’s soldiers, it serves to administer controlled doses of the serum on the fly, and as needed. The conversion will be slower, of course, but nearly guaranteed to be successful and render a much less damaged product.”

“Add to that the fact that this is their most stable cocktail yet, and...well, you can see why the really wanted it back.” –Tony says, glaring at the alien device.

Kara crosses her arms. “I don’t get it. How could they know this obscure component from an alien race nobody knew would invade would be the thing they needed to perfect their human super soldiers?”

“We don’t know.” –Romanoff admits. “But if our ‘mole’ theory holds up, they could’ve easily gleaned that information from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s earliest research into Chitauri anatomy. They were producing data just hours after the invasion.”

“Or, perhaps, Victor simply told them.” –Strange suggests. “He seems to be involved with them at the highest level, and he would have undoubtedly known about the Chitauri before any of us.”

“Stop teasing, you little shit.” –Tony hisses. Strange shrugs, but Kara can tell he’s doing it on purpose.

Steve sighs, long-suffering. “Whatever the case, we have more than enough leads to go on. And while we may be subject to STRIKE missions now, we will do our best to chase them.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing anything for STRIKE. Fury can’t make me.” –Tony waves, dismissively. “Which is why I’m pursuing our biggest non-magical lead, thank you very much. I’ll be going back to Malibu for a spell – visiting an old friend, Maya Hansen. Her old research – not that I remember too much of it, honestly – bears a few too many similarities to Centipede’s. She’s been receiving some funding from AIM, too, so I figure it can’t hurt to pay her a visit. Plus, I’ve been invited to SFIT’s admission project showcase, and I just love seeing tiny nerds in action. Maybe I’ll take Pete, let him see what his future competition’s looking like.” –he says, lightly punching Peter’s shoulder. The kid lights up at the prospect.

“I’ll uh, try and see if I can’t reverse the effects of the Serum.” –Bruce awkwardly proposes. “If nothing else, I can at least try and stabilize it so any others we find aren’t liable to spontaneously combust.”

Rogers nods. “Natasha and I will take STRIKE teams to several probable Centipede-affiliated paramilitary bases. They’ll likely start clearing out and shuffling their forces around once they figure we have some of their locations, but we need to put the pressure on them, nevertheless.”

“I’m like, not a superhero? So I think I’ll try and track down other Centipede facilities for y’all to knock on the door. Maybe sleuth out any potential S.H.I.E.L.D. moles, too.” –Skye says. “Winn and I are nearly done with the Guardian’s revamped OS, anyway.”

Kara tilts her head. “What’s the ‘Guardian’?”

The hacktivist winces, looking at Kara’s maybe-girlfriend. Lena puts a hand on hers. “I’ll tell you after the meeting.” –she promises. Kara narrows her eyes, but doesn’t push for an answer.

“Everyone else will help Doctor Strange track down and stop Victor von Doom, whatever it takes.” –Steve says, gravely. “That includes you, Kara, if you’re certain you feel up to it.”

Kara nods, resolute. “I’m game.”

“Be warned; Victor could be one of the greatest foes this Earth has ever faced.” –Strange says. “Once we find him, we will need to strike decisively.”

Rogers’ arms cross. “Tell us what you know, Doctor.”

Strange hums. “I’ve only met him once.” –he begins. “One week into my tenure as Sorcerer Supreme, following the death of my predecessor, as I searched for the missing goddess Hecate. But once was enough – enough to know he is from beyond our reality.”

The wizard manifests an image of the Earth, in all its beauty, in the center of the room. “This is our world as you know it. Planet Earth, cradle of humanity, centerpiece of our solar system. As the Chitauri’s presence has hinted at, there is a universe full of life out there – some hostile, some neutral, and thankfully, most friendly. I imagine, in the coming years, we will meet many of their kind, as Loki’s invasion has elevated our little blue orb’s notoriety in the galactic consciousness.” –he muses. “But beyond the borders of our realm – beyond the limits of our very universe – lie other realities, both familiar and strange.”

Bruce narrows his eyes. “Are you talking about Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation?”

“I’m talking about the Multiverse.” –Strange corrects. “Our reality is one of many, yes, but the scientific theory you’ve mentioned posits the existence of an infinite number of dimensions stemming from each and every one of our individual choices. The truth of it is far more complex.”

Earth shrinks, becoming a small sphere within a stream of sand. “Say I’d become fed up with Tony’s very existence, and I considered snuffing him out.” –he muses, earning him a glare from the billionaire. “In that moment, I would have a choice; to stay my hand, or satisfy my deadly impulse. Such a major decision – and more importantly, its many consequences – would indeed split our reality in twain.”

The stream becomes two, one golden and one black. “Loathe as I am to admit it, Tony Stark is a very important character, in the grand scheme of things. His influence is felt all throughout the globe, and his choices affect many. Such is his nature throughout many of the other Earths in which he exists – and the same goes for every person, to some extent, but is most intensely true of the people who bear the most power and responsibilities. His death, for example, could prove catastrophic in the face of mounting, oncoming threats. The reality I’d create by slaying him would then be considered an aberration, as it deviates from the common pattern so harshly that the end result, after the consequences have unfolded, would likely be unrecognizable.”

He stares at the darkened representation of Earth. “Aberrations are dangerous things, in the Multiverse – they are unpredictable, unstable, and they can spread their effects to become a new norm. Entire regions of the Multiverse have withered away from errant events as abhorrent as the Nazis winning World War II, the earlier discovery and abuse of atomic power, and the unchecked spread of viral disease.”

Winn meekly pipes up. “I feel like this should be more shocking? Why isn’t it more shocking to know there’s a bunch of alternate versions of us out there?”

“If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say many of your doppelgängers are already aware of the existence of the Multiverse.” –Strange says. “There’s the smallest bit of overlap between you and them – something you’ll have likely noticed as déjà vu, or perhaps, through the most realistic of your dreams.”

Steve stares long and hard at the magical display. “I thought the existence of gods and monsters was a lot to take in, but this is...” –he trails off.

“Quite a bit more.” –Strange agrees. “Know that this changes little, in your day to day life. The existence of other versions of your selves doesn’t diminish your own in any way, and interactions between dimensions are rare, as it takes a great deal of power to breach the dimensional barriers for most. I only explain the Multiverse so you can better understand the foe we’re facing.”

Tony groans. “Alright...so, like, thanks for breaking my brain – and using me dying as an example, super classy of you – but what’s this have to do with Victor?”

Kara rubs her chin. “I...I think he’s saying is that Doctor Doom isn’t from this dimension.”

Strange nods. “Precisely. When I met Victor, I was able to sense – among a host of other things – that his dimensional frequency didn’t match our own. He’s come from an alternate reality.”

“Which one?” –Kara asks.

“I don’t know. I was unfortunately hampered at the time by visions I could glean of him slaying other versions of me in magical duels.” –Strange admits, soberingly. “Finding his home among the Multiverse will be our key to victory, however; I will only be able to banish him once we discover his point of origin.”

Steve sighs. “Then we better get to it.”

Strange tilts his head, then, staring out into the city. “Oh...I fear it’ll have to wait just a little longer, Captain. It appears you’re about to be needed.”

Before anyone can ask why, a rainbow in the shape of a powerful beam blasts down from the heavens, directly onto the Tower’s helipad. The Avengers all rush to the window, just in time to see a figure descend and land in the midst of the multicolor vortex. He grins and raises his hammer at them in greeting, as what can only be the Bifrost vanishes and leaves behind its distinctive glowing runes.

Thor, Norse god of Thunder, has finally returned to Earth – and if the missing prince’s prior visit is any indication, Earth will be needing its champions again, indeed.

Chapter Text

Steve leads the way down to the helipad, where the Odinson awaits – surrounded by tense-looking S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, their weapons pointed at the ground, but only just. The god of thunder looks amused at the agents’ bravado, his mighty hammer idly hanging from his belt in an unmistakable gesture of contempt.

“Ah, my friends!” –Thor greets, grinning so widely he could give Kara a run for her usual sunshine-and-rainbows money. “It warms my heart to see you still united – and grown in numbers, too!” –he notes.

The Thunderer takes a fist to his armored chest. “Greetings, new companions! I am Thor, Lord of Thunder, Prince of Asgard, and Protector of the Nine Realms.” –he says, then turns to Steve. “And hopefully one of the Avengers, still?”

Steve smiles. “As much as any of us, pal.” –he drawls, clasping Thor’s forearm in a warrior’s greeting. “Good to see you again, Thor. We didn’t expect you back for a while yet.”

“Ah, the Allfather was able to complete the Rainbow Bridge’s reforging much earlier than anticipated! In no small part due to your sensibility in returning the Tesseract to Asgard’s Vaults, too.” –he explains.

“So I have Odin to thank for my brand-spankin’-new helipad getting an Asgardian tattoo, huh?” –Tony narrows his eyes.

Thor smirks. “If you wish for retribution, my friend, I’m sure our coffers are ample enough.”

“So are mine, Point Break.” –he shrugs. “It’s fine. Kinda metal, I like it. Gonna have to convince the FAA to look the other way, though.”

“I thought you said you’d be fighting people all over for a long time.” –Natasha says, raising an eyebrow.

Thor nods, somberly. “Aye, I have been. Most of the Nine were thrown into chaos upon the Bifröst’s destruction – among other things, Asgard’s peacekeeping endeavors getting cut off from the other Realms and news of Loki’s attempt at taking Midgard for himself inspired a great many bandits and power-hungry warlords to seize the chance they saw in the power vacuum, but we have made great strides in beating them back to obscurity.”

“And the latest stop on your magical ass-kicking tour is Earth, I take it.” –Tony says.

“Indeed. I wish my visit were purely social in nature, but alas, Midgard is to come under siege once more.” –he says.

Steve crosses his arms. “So we’ve heard.” –he says. “What do you know?”

“All-Seeing Heimdall bore witness to a massive battle, just beyond Midgard’s borders, scarce minutes ago.” –he says. “A vessel of alien nature tearing through a blockade of sorts, above the planet. The warship is known to Asgard as the Chimeran Hammer, an old dreadnought under the command of an infamous interstellar warlord named Vilgax.”

“Sounds like a brand of bug spray.” –Tony mutters, sarcastically.

Thor hums. “He is rather more squid-like in nature, I believe.” –he muses, entirely missing the point. “We must make haste; he will make landfall in a matter of minutes. Somewhere within the land you call ‘California’.”

Steve nods. “JARVIS, scan for this ‘Vilgax’ and prep the Quinjet. I want us in the air ASAP.”

Tony snorts. “Uh-huh. I’ll see you slowpokes when your slow-ass bird gets there.” –he retorts. “You up for a race, Thor?”

“A tempting challenge, my friend – but alas, I must meet with the Lords of Olympus.” –he says, like he’s talking about a coffee date. Thunder rumbles in the distance, despite it being a bright and sunny day. “I’ve already trespassed on this world twice without acknowledging their sovereignty. It’s rather bad form. I’ll join you as I’m able.”

Kara blinks. “The Lords of what, now?”

Most of the Avengers look weary at this. “Yeah, it’s a thing.” –Tony mutters. “Gods, monsters, magic…the whole nine yards. As fascinating as the existence of actual gods is, the atheist in me couldn’t be more annoyed.” –he laments, then turns to Thor. “It’s your loss, Norse Lundgren.”

The disparate pieces of Mark XLII zip by them, attaching themselves to Tony and extending to cover his body. Within seconds, Iron Man stands in their midst. “I’ll try to save you guys a few aliens.” –he says, and blasts off, bursting through the sound barrier before he even leaves their line of sight.

“I’ll show you the way to Olympus, Odinson.” –Strange says.

Thor raises an eyebrow. “Come now, Sorcerer. Surely I can find my way to their divine mountain, having visited in my youth?”

Strange snorts. “As amusing as it would be to see you travel all the way to Greece and futilely search every mountain peak in the Mediterranean, you do have a battle to join. The Greek gods have moved since the last time you were here. Fortunately, they’re not far.”

“Ah, I see.” –Thor acknowledges. “Lead the way, then.”

“You won’t be joining us, Doctor?” –Steve asks.

Stephen shakes his head. “I apologize, Captain, but the duties of the Sorcerer Supreme don’t allow for that kind of detour. Unless you face a powerful magical foe, or the world is truly on the brink of destruction by this…alien warlord, I’m afraid I must focus my attention elsewhere.”

Rogers nods, albeit looking a little disappointed. “Understood.” –he says. Steve turns to the others. “Avengers, gear up.”

“You’re not coming, Sue?” –Kara wonders, clasping on her cape. It’s not too surprising – apparently Ben and Johnny are trying to track down a few leads on their missing fourth, but since Sue’s still around, Kara figured she might’ve wanted to help.

The blonde shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but…I’m not like you, or the other Avengers. I’m not a hero.” –she admits. “I’m just a really unlucky astrophysicist.”

Kara purses her lips. “Is it the fighting? You don’t actually need to fight, if you don’t want to, but your powers could really help us keep people safe. I hear you did a great job against Centipede last week.”

Sue manages a faint smile. “I…managed it. For you. I had to pay what you did for us forward.” –she says, then rubs at her arm. “But being on a battlefield again was torture. I felt like Centipede was testing us again, throwing everything they could at me just to figure out my limits. Maybe it’s selfish, but…the bullets, the blood, the dying men…I can’t do that anymore.”

The Kryptonian’s expression softens. She places a comforting hand on Sue’s shoulder. “Hey, it isn’t selfish. The powers we have…it comes with certain responsibilities for some of us, but your first priority should be making sure you’re okay. If being a hero isn’t what you want to do, then we’ll all respect it, I promise.”

“You mean it?” –Sue wonders.

Kara nods. “Definitely. And please, Sue. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to put yourself in that situation for me, or any of the other Avengers ever again.”

Sue hums. “Well, never say never, I guess. Like Doctor Strange said…if the world’s about to end, I’ll, um…” –she trails off.

“Manage it?” –Kara suggests.

Sue chuckles, sad. “Yeah. Good luck, Supergirl.” –she whispers, disappearing from view.

Kara sighs, looking at herself in the mirror, waiting for JARVIS’s summons. The new suit...it makes her look more the part of a Kryptonian, now, nearly identical to the underarmor worn by Kryptonian soldiers. She wonders what her parents, so vehemently against the violent life of Krypton’s military class, would say if they saw her now. Lena walks up to her after a few moments, a twinkle of wonder in her eyes. “I like your new suit.” –she says.

The Girl of Steel hums. “I’m gonna miss the skirt.” –she admits. “It was very…Kara. But this is a better look for Supergirl, I think.”

“Maybe you can have variants.” –Lena suggests. “That’s a thing in comic books, right? I think Stark was thinking about producing some winter gear, maybe some underwater equipment, too.”

“That’s going a little overboard.” –Kara reposes. “For me, at least. I don’t mind the cold. And I can move underwater just as easily as I can in the sky.”

“Well, Stark’s entire MO is going overboard, I’ve found.” –Lena says, sarcastically. “Not that his entire public history suggested otherwise.”

Kara chuckles. “Still not a fan, huh?”

Lena sighs. “We’ll always disagree about some things. But I have grown to respect the man, now that I have the whole story. He’s so relentlessly dedicated to using his money and brains to protect people – to the point of obsession, even. Every life lost, every mistake, every little thing he fails to foresee…he doesn’t see it as a natural part of being a superhero – he sees it as a personal failure. I can understand that mentality.”

“You kinda have that mentality, if I recall correctly.” –Kara raises an eyebrow.

Lena agrees, though she doesn’t look too pleased about it. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.”

“Is that why you’re commandeering Titanium Man’s armor?” –Kara asks, giving her a meaningful look.

The ravenette looks surprised; Kara simply shrugs. “I caught a glimpse at the blueprints when Tony was showing me everything you guys developed while I was out. I thought he’d just recovered the wreckage, but when Skye talked about the ‘GUARDIAN OS’, I put two and two together.” –she explains. “A quick review of JARVIS’ footage of the fight confirmed my suspicions.”

Lena gives her a calculating look. “You’re not surprised? Or angry?” –she wonders.

“I’m worried.” –Kara corrects. “But I’m not too surprised, no. You’ve always wanted to make a difference. Always wanted the Luthor name to be more than a reminder of a family that didn’t want you.”

“I thought heading OsCorp was the answer, but…clearly, I was blinded by my own ambition.” –Lena says. “They only got away with their cruelty for so long because I was too proud of myself.”

“Hmm. But being an Avenger, Lena? Is that really what you want?” –Kara asks, searching her eyes.

Lena chuckles. “I don’t know that ‘want’ has any bearing on what I feel I must do.” –she says. “And maybe piloting a four-thousand pound titanium exoskeleton isn’t exactly the best way to go about it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.” –she says. Lena looks back at Kara. “What do you think?”

Kara pensively nods. “Well, it’d be rather hypocritical of me to try and convince you out of the life. I don’t think I can stop worrying, but I’ll support you as long as you want.” –she says. “Just…please, be safe. Alex was right – we good guys aren’t the only ones growing in numbers and power.”

“Oh, I’ll be safe. Unlike some people, I’m actually keeping my identity a secret.” –Lena teases.

Kara snorts. “We’ll see how long that lasts.” –she drawls. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the Avengers are notoriously terrible at secret identities.”

JARVIS chimes in over them. “The Quinjet is performing pre-flight checks, Miss Danvers.”

“Be right there, Jay.” –she says.

“I wish I could join you.” –Lena laments. “I have it on good authority that alien invasions are good for debuting as a superhero. The suit just isn’t ready yet.”

Kara smirks. “Next crisis, then.” –she says. In a moment of daring, she leans down, and kisses Lena’s cheek. She’s rewarded with an intensely blushing Irish woman, sputtering as she rushes toward the landing pad, the Avengers filing into the aircraft.

Peter really, really wants to come with, for some reason.

“New York needs their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.” –Kara gently reminds him. “With the Avengers out of town, we’re depending on you to hold down the fort.”

“But it’s an alien invasion! You know I can help with those.” –he pouts.

“In New York, yeah.” –Romanoff says, walking towards the pilot’s seat. JARVIS could do the job, but Natasha insisted, broken arm and all. Something about being bored out of her mind for a week. “The town we’re going to has literally no buildings tall enough for you to swing around. Sorry, Pete, but you’d just be swinging face-first into pavement every time.”

Peter visibly deflates. Matt puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, Peter. Frank’s back in town and someone needs to keep his usual trail of death and destruction to a minimum.” –he says, sarcastically. “I’ll even let you have the first swing at him, if he starts going off the chain. He’s gonna be so annoyed.”

The teenager perks up a little. The Quinjet’s controls chime ready; Skye, Lena, Peter, and Matt step back as the hydraulic bay door seals with a hiss and the rotors roar to life. In just a few moments, they’re given clearance by air traffic control, and they zoom out of the city.

Steve secures his helmet on a nearby rack as they reach cruising altitude. “What’s our ETA?”

“Hour and a half.” –Romanoff reports. “Would’ve been more, but President Ellis pulled out all the stops. All flights are being redirected out of our way and away from California, and Hill authorized us to, and I quote, ‘burn the hell out of that bird’s engines’. Stark should be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“And the situation there?”

The redhead shakes her head, dour. “It’s...bad. A single enemy warship, but it appears to have an endless supply of troops – probably fabricating them on the spot, since they all seem to be robots of some description. There’s a small S.H.I.E.L.D. research team holding back the tide with some local reinforcements, but they’ll be overwhelmed before we can get there. Maybe even before Tony gets there.”

Kara frowns, crossing her arms. “What do you mean, ‘local reinforcements’?”

“A handful of superpowered teenagers.” –Natasha says, sarcastically. “They’re the reason S.H.I.E.L.D. was there in the first place. Unregistered vigilante types – don’t really know what their powers are, or why they’re putting themselves on the line.”

“I know why.” –Steve mutters, concerned and approving in equal measure. Kara agrees with the sentiment.

Bruce sighs. He looks rather awkward in the oversized Chewbacca robe he’s borrowed from Winn to conceal the fact that he’s only wearing a pair of purple shorts, custom-made to fit him as both Banner and the Hulk. “So there’s no chance I can skip this one, huh?” –he says.

Steve shakes his head, though his gaze is understanding. “I’m sorry, Bruce.”

“S’alright. That’s what Code Green is for.” –the shaggy haired scientist mumbles. “And Hulk’s been a little antsy lately, anyway. Think he’s been missing his sparring partner.” –he says, managing a small smirk for Kara.

“Happy to oblige, though it looks like we’ll both get our fill of punching crap today.” –Kara says. “Maybe we can invite Thor to our next sesh.”

Bruce laughs nervously. “...Hulk does love punching and being punched by Thor.”

Kara hums. She wonders what it’ll feel like, to be struck by a god. Speaking of which...“So...the Greek gods are real, then?”

“I think the idea is that most myths are real, period.” –Natasha says. “Gods, monsters, magic. The Olympians just seem to be the most hands-on pantheon in modern times.”

“You certainly seem to have taken things in stride.” –Kara raises an eyebrow.

“I’m Russian, ex-KGB, and S.H.I.E.L.D.; I’ve seen my fair share of weird crap along the years.” –Romanoff shrugs. “Never seen a Minotaur before, but…it really wouldn’t surprise me by now. Cap here wasn’t so lucky.” –she teases.

Steve sighs. “I was raised Catholic. I still practice, too – go to Sunday mass every week, if the job doesn’t keep me from it.” –he clarifies, before Kara can ask. “Thor and Loki were already hard to reconcile with, but...honestly, almost everything out of Strange’s mouth in the last week has given me a headache.”

“He’s an asshole.” –Natasha says, deadpan. “Which makes sense, considering he ran in Stark’s ‘pre-Iron Man’ social circles. Tony says he used to be way worse, somehow, which would honestly be kind of impressive.”

“Doctor Strange is a very blunt man.” –Steve allows. “He’s a talented sorcerer, and he seems to know virtually all there is to know about magic – and he tends to makes sure you know it. But he is a hero. He’s seen things we could never imagine, and faced foes we couldn’t hope to defeat, for no reason other than mankind’s protection. I respect him, even if his attitude is a little...difficult to work with.”

Kara leans back on her seat. “’Sorcerer Supreme’ does kinda sound equal parts incredibly important and super conceited.”

Rogers chuckles. “True enough, though I think there’s an argument to be made that we’re all a little conceited. We call ourselves ‘superheroes’, after all.”

Romanoff rolls her eyes. “I think you’re getting in your head a little. It’s just short-hand for what we do, Rogers. We either have literal superpowers or superior abilities, and we put ourselves in harm’s way to protect people. That’d be the literal definition of a superhero.”

“I understand. It’s just…hard to think of myself as anything but another soldier. We didn’t have superheroes in the forties.” –Steve admits. “The heroes I grew up with were just regular people trying their best to push back against the bullies of the world.”

“People with powers have always existed.” –Bruce argues. “There’s evidence of superpowered beings going all the way back to the Neolithic. But I’m not surprised you find the concept of a superhero to be a little alien – after all, you were the first one. The ideal of a hero that most of us grew up with was you, Captain.”

Kara agrees. “Can confirm. I think Alex still has her Captain America lunchbox somewhere.”

“I’d say there was no love lost for the Sentinel of Liberty in the Soviet Union, but considering they tried making their own in Red Guardian, you gotta figure the notion was there.” –Romanoff says, sarcastically. “Like it or not, Cap…you’ve always been the best of us.”

Steve blushes a little. “I’ll respectfully disagree.” –he says, lightly bumping against Kara’s shoulder. “I just have a knack for surrounding myself with the best.” –he mutters, softly. “Just, uh…don’t tell Tony I said that.”

Aside from the groaning, speeding Quinjet – its myriad cries of alarm at performing well above its safety parameters having long been silenced by Natasha – the flight goes on in relative silence for the next twenty minutes. Widow reports that Iron Man has made it to Arcadia, and found the defenders mostly intact ten minutes into the flight. The Avengers present breathe a sigh of relief, but it only lasts a few minutes, as a pair of large, unknown high tech aircraft uncloak at either side of them. Kara immediately unbuckles herself from her seat, being their only flying member at present, ready to defend them if the need arises – even though she’s never been able to push herself past Mach 1, admittedly.

“Bozhe moy, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” –Romanoff hisses under her breath. “What the hell is S.W.O.R.D. doing here?”

Steve frowns. “S.W.O.R.D.?”

“S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quirky little sister.” –Natasha drawls. “A mostly independent spin-off dedicated to space exploration.”

“Oh, we do a lot more than that, Agent Romanoff.” –a woman says, over the comms. “I’m Abigail Brand, Director of S.W.O.R.D. Permission to come aboard?”

Steve purses his lips. “I…apologize, ma’am, but we’re in a hurry, alien invasion and all. No time to land.”

In their midst, a pair of figures coalesce from lightning and light. Thor grins like a madman, standing next to a woman in her mid-forties, leaning on a sort of futuristic looking cane, bearing an odd resemblance to the protagonist of the Alien films. “No landing necessary.” –Abigail Brand says, smugly. “And besides, I brought a friend.”

“Well met! Again!” –Thor says, like a kid who’s just gotten off a sick rollercoaster ride.

The S.W.O.R.D. planes immediately hit the boosters, speeding off and upwards, vanishing into the stratosphere. “You couldn’t have given us a ride on those? At this rate, we’ll be lucky if the Quinjet doesn’t break apart before we even make it to Nevada.” –Romanoff complains.

“Or teleported us to Arcadia, since you can apparently do that?” –Kara narrows her eyes.

“Those MFE fighters are prototypes, and they can’t carry passengers. Thor and I had to hitch a ride in their bomb bays just to catch up with y’all.” –she reposes. “And I can only translocate three people at a time in a radius of three-hundred feet around this thing.” –she says, shaking her cane a little for emphasis. “I suppose we could theoretically leapfrog all the way to California, but I’m pretty sure it’d take longer.”

Director Brand walks over to the cockpit, and she jabs her cane into the controls before anyone can stop her. “This’ll be much faster.” –she assures them, as the black metal and green lines the cane is made of seem to seep out and fuse with the Quinjet itself.

“What the fuck are you doing?” –Romanoff demands, the Quinjet’s controls being wrenched from her, and absorbed into a sleek, alien interface none of them can make much sense of.

Kara and Steve step forward, trying to stop her – and even Bruce looks a little green around the gills – but Thor holds up a hand. “Patience, my friends. Let the blade work its magic.”

Sure enough, once the black and green have fully consumed the aircraft around them, the engines whine with power, and a sudden, monstrous boost nearly topples all of them, the upgraded Quinjet zooming off into the horizon.

“Okay.” –Kara blinks. “So, like…what the heck just happened?”

“We got a new ETA, for one.” –Natasha frowns. “Twenty minutes or so. I guess that thing really is magic. Where the hell did you get that?”

Director Brand sighs, limping over to Kara – clearly, the cane isn’t just for show. “It was a gift from an old friend. It’s not actually magic, it’s alien technology – Galvan, to be precise. My cane can upgrade most technology it touches. The process is imperfect, and it’ll most likely end up destroying this bird the moment I take my cane away, but it’ll get us to California a lot quicker – maybe even quickly enough to make a difference.” –she explains. She manages a tired smile, offering her hand. “It’s…a pleasure to finally meet you, Supergirl.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, miffed at having the controls taken away from her. “’Finally’?”

Abigail takes a seat next to Kara. “Yes, finally. You have no idea how different Kara’s life on Earth nearly was, because of S.W.O.R.D.” –she laments.

Kara tilts her head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, as Agent Romanoff said, S.W.O.R.D. is the foremost human agency in charge of exploring our solar system and beyond, but we’re also responsible for maintaining diplomatic relationships with the various political entities of the Milky Way, and we handle immigration proceedings for the few extraterrestrial refugees who choose – or are forced – to make Earth their home.” –she explains. “As such, we were very nearly in charge of handling Kara’s transition into life on our planet.”

Director Brand turns to Kara. “Had your pod come in from space like a normal spacecraft instead of through an interdimensional portal in-atmo, you would’ve been our responsibility. Instead, you popped in out of nowhere – and Fury couldn’t claim you fast enough. Beat us to the punch, unfortunately.”

“Wow.” –Kara mutters. “I had no idea.”

Abigail shrugs. “Fury probably wouldn’t want you to know. S.H.I.E.L.D. and S.W.O.R.D. don’t cooperate much. We are both overseen by the World Security Council, but our operations rarely overlap, and we are both very territorial, when it comes to our respective jurisdictions.” –she admits. “And we have a very different approach to securing the continued existence of the human race.”

“Diplomacy isn’t always enough, Director Brand.” –Romanoff says, narrowing her eyes.

“No, it isn’t. But neither should it be our last resort, the way Fury seems to think of it.” –Brand shoots back. “Especially when your potential enemies far outclass you in terms of power and influence. Even with all that we’ve learned and derived from the alien technology that’s reached Earth, we can only semi-comfortably move around our own solar system. Interstellar travel is still beyond our reach, let alone the ability to influence galactic politics or fend off major incursions, should we manage to piss off one of the major powers.”

Thor raises an eyebrow. “Ah, but Midgard has some of the greatest champions this galaxy has ever seen, does it not?” –he asks. “The Avengers, of course, but Heimdall has also regaled me with tales of the Supergirl’s valor and strength of late.”

Kara blushes a little. “Thanks, but…I mean, Director Brand has a point. If Tony hadn’t carried that nuke into the wormhole, I don’t know that we would’ve been able to cope with the Chitauri invasion. Not at the rate they were coming.”

“Not enough to prevent a massive death toll, if at all.” –Steve gravely agrees.

“Which S.W.O.R.D. didn’t seem to help prevent in any way, I might add.” –Bruce adds, scornful.

“Unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., we have no dedicated troops to speak of. Starship pilots and armed astronauts meant to protect our scientific expeditions are all that we have in terms of trained military personnel.” –Abigail defends. “We have four experimental spacecraft built for exo-atmospheric combat and a space station whose weapons are pointed away from Earth. If the Chitauri had invaded the traditional way, we might’ve been able to do something about it, but they obviously didn’t.”

Bruce seems unconvinced, but backs down with a grumble. His bias against any and all government law enforcement is alive and well, it seems, not that Kara can begrudge him for it. Far from it, considering the latest developments with S.H.I.E.L.D. “I wonder how different my life would be if you’d taken me in.” –Kara admits.

“Well, we wouldn’t have created a sword specifically to kill you, I can assure you.” –Brand says, sarcastic. “In all likelihood, you would’ve been raised on our home base of Excalibur, or at one of the various Garrisons around the world where our pilots and staff are trained. Perhaps I would’ve asked you to be our ambassador to the various peoples of the galaxy, to represent the best that Earth has to offer.”

“A Kryptonian representing humanity?” –Kara asks, raising an eyebrow.

“A Terran representing her home.” –Abigail corrects. “Humans may be the most numerous sapient species on the planet by far, but we’re not the only ones who call Earth home. That’s why we use the term ‘Terra’, which the galaxy at large knows our planet by. We’re all Terrans, no matter our species.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Pardon me for saying so, ma’am, but I don’t think this is the first time we should be hearing about these things. It’s our job to protect the world as best we can – being aware of threats coming from space could only help us do it better. The lack of cooperation only helps our enemies.”

“True enough, Captain. I apologize.” –she allows. “To be honest, I wanted to make sure you were more than just Fury’s personal hitmen. He’s dreamt of putting together a force like the Avengers for decades, and he finally managed it with you – you’ll forgive me if I couldn’t bring myself to blindly trust that you had our best interests in mind.”

Kara narrows her eyes. “I feel like there’s a lot to unpack there.” –she notes. “I thought the Avengers were more of a spontaneous thing?”

Natasha hesitates a little. “…in part, yeah. Thor wasn’t ever considered for the Initiative, for example. Neither were you.” –she says. “But it’s true that Director Fury has tried to put together a team like ours since the nineties.”

Abigail scoffs. “Oh, it’s been going on a lot longer than that.” –she says. “The Avengers Initiative proper exists since 1994, but Fury’s had the idea since he was a junior agent, somewhere around the seventies – and he definitely tried to make something out of it before, often to disastrous results. You ought to pay a visit to Hank Pym, one of these days.”

“Peggy sanctioned this?” –Steve frowns.

“For a time.” –Abigail agrees. “Director Carter knew all too well how valuable even a single Enhanced individual could prove on the battlefield – as you’d best know, Captain Rogers. But the project’s failures mounted, and good people were lost, so she eventually banned it altogether. Fury couldn’t do anything about it until she retired.”

A bit of relief softens the super soldier’s stiff shoulders. Natasha sighs, clearly troubled by the revelations. “Well, as…educational as this has proven, we just entered Nevadan airspace. We should reach Arcadia in just a few minutes.”

Steve grimly nods, grabbing his helmet from the rack. “Everyone ready up. We’re gonna hit the ground running.”

They almost do, in fact, literally hit the ground running.

Apparently, Director Brand can’t really control the so-called alien upgrade – which means that they can’t slow down as long as it’s applied. It’s a tricky thing, but they decide take the cane away a few dozen miles away from the battle, and hope the Quinjet holds together enough for a landing.

Almost immediately after removing the alien artifact, however, the bird starts shaking apart; the console all but explodes, the entire left wing rips away, and half of its drag surfaces are sheared off by the wind, like shingles in a tornado. The Quinjet plummets, half ablaze, towards the ground – thankfully far enough away from the alien warship in the distance to avoid its aggressive point defense systems. It’s a mad scramble to steer the ship into a crash-landing, away from any residential areas, but the aircraft is so damaged that they have to ditch it. Abigail grabs onto Rogers and Romanoff, teleporting them out, leaving Kara to punch through the bay door, Thor haphazardly carrying Bruce out of the VTOL behind her before it crashes and explodes, moments later.

The Avengers regroup, taking stock of their situation; they’re just outside of town, southeast of the main battleground. It’s kind of a misnomer, though – the defenders have been pushed too far back, so all they can see is the unimpeded march of an alien drone army, slowly occupying Arcadia. Above them, a dogfight of sorts is unfolding – they can see Iron Man flitting around a massive alien creature, itself chasing around a vehicle that looks like a flying motor home.

It’s…odd.

“Widow, get in touch with Hill and figure out where they’re at with the evacuation.” –Rogers orders. Natasha nods, taking Director Brand’s offered hand, and the duo teleport away. “Bruce, I need the Hulk to stop that march. Don’t let them reach the town, but don’t wreck it either. Can you do that?”

Bruce sighs. “Yeah, alright. See you at the after party, guys.” –he mutters, letting the transformation overtake him. The Hulk roars in glee, taking immediate advantage of his newfound freedom by leaping onto the battlefield and wreaking havoc amongst the no doubt confused drones.

“The rest of us are on Vilgax duty.” –Cap says, then takes a hand to his earpiece. “Tony, is that the guy?”

Their comms crackle. “Oh, hey Cap – you guys sure got here soon. Yeah, the flying tentacle monster dude, that’s Vilgax.”

Kara cracks her knuckles. “I’m on it.” –she says, and takes off. It’s a simple matter, intercepting Vilgax; he’s not so much piloting the drone he’s hitched a ride on as much as he’s taking advantage of its flight path to pursue the flying RV, keeping Tony at bay by shooting omnidirectional lasers out of his eyes, twisting and turning to track the armored Avenger. As such, he doesn’t even see her coming, fists first, swiping him clean off the drone, and sending them both hurtling towards the ground.

The soil beneath them erupts upon their crash-landing. She flies away from the crater, surveying the scene; they’ve landed on a desolate part of town, reduced to rubble and flames. It’s hard not to mentally be on Krypton, surrounded by so much destruction, but she stubbornly reminds herself that she’s not helpless – not this time. Vilgax roars, defiantly, and she meets him in kind, yelling as she delivers a punch to his armored solar plexus. The metal dents, but to its credit, it doesn’t break – and neither does the alien warlord. Vilgax recovers from staggering, grabs the burning wreck of a car, and bats her away with it. It’s a decent attempt, but it only really serves to annoy her. He tries to do it again, but her heat vision bisects the car before it can hit her, leaving him clutching a useless car trunk, which he tosses aside.

Vilgax’s red eyes glow incandescent, and he blasts her with those zig-zagging rays. They hurt like a sunburn – mild, passive, still very uncomfortable – so she blasts him right back. Vilgax hisses as the thin beams cut one of his arms off at the elbow; for a moment, Kara fears that she’s gone too far, but the tentacles that make up whole body stretch out of the stump and grab onto the severed limb, fusing back with it.

Tony flies in then, repulsors blazing – the blasts sear off small sections of the alien’s flesh, but they heal almost instantly. It annoys the warlord, though, letting her sneak in a couple of devastating punches, but even as the power of her fists clears the smoke and dust from the scene, Vilgax manages to remain upright. The alien is clearly in pain, but his discipline is admirable – he intercepts Kara’s next blow, and lets her motion carry her into a throw that Iron Man barely dodges in time.

Unfortunately, throwing her was a feint, and Vilgax manages to jump and grab one of Tony’s legs, unceremoniously slamming him into the ground. Kara’s eyes widen – that was a bad hit, she realizes, so she charges in and sends the villain flying before he can attempt to finish Tony off. She searches the armor for damage, but the new suit seems to have held together just fine. “You alright, Tony?” –she asks, concerned.

“I’m good.” –he says, though he definitely sounds a little dazed. Kara offers her hand, and lifts him upright. “But Squidward here isn’t going down.”

“He sure can take a punch.” –Kara admits, but she nods at the sky above. “But we still have a few tricks up our sleeves.”

Thor hovers in place above Arcadia, spinning his magic hammer unimaginably fast. Storm clouds form out of thin air, lightning bolts drawn to the divine weapon, clinging to the God of Thunder’s body. Kara wonders if Zeus is a little bit jealous – or, perhaps, even helping Thor out a bit, boosting him just a smidge further than whatever counts as normal for the Norse God. Satisfied, Thor throws himself at the ground, hammer first, and a massive lightning bolt with a god at its core strikes Vilgax. She has to cover her ears as the ensuing thunderclap booms all around them.

But Vilgax isn’t done; even charred to a crisp, and covered in Lichtenberg scarring, he roars defiantly, backhanding the Thunderer away with tremendous strength – not that Thor looks anything but excited to match strength with the alien warlord.

Steve jogs towards them, shield in hand and already covered in oil and grime from the battlefield. Tony’s helmet retracts. He’s sweaty and frazzled, but thankfully not even bleeding. “Hey Cap. Ready to take your turn on the Cthulhu-themed alien bucking bull?” –he asks, shit-eating grin on full display.

Kara snorts, and the Captain rolls his eyes. “I’ll pass, thanks.” –he says, deadpan.

“Where’s Bruce?” –Tony asks.

Steve points back at the battlefield, where the Jade Giant’s roars can be heard. “Wreaking havoc among the enemy forces. They were getting too close to the town, so I asked him to take a brief detour before taking on Vilgax. It, uh…it took some convincing.” –he admits. “But truth be told, I don’t think power alone is gonna get us through this one.”

Thor joins them. “I agree; I can sense some dark magic about him. It sustains him, well past the point that he should perish, let alone remain conscious.” –he says. Kara frowns; she’d figured Vilgax just had a really freakin’ good healing factor. What kind of magic could do something like that?

“Then we restrain him.” –Steve says. “And hope we can figure out a way to put him down after.”

Tony hums, keeping an eye on the regenerating Vilgax. “Yeah, the kids probably know something.” –he mutters.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “The local vigilantes?”

Tony shrugs. “I don’t think ‘vigilantes’ is the right word, having spent some quality time with them, but yeah, those guys. Baby’s First Eldritch Abomination here is attacking because they have something he wants.” –he explains. “A device called the Omnitrix.”

The Asgardian seems surprised at the news. “Surely you’ve misheard, Stark? The Omnitrix is a myth.”

Kara tilts her head. “So are you, Thor.” –she points out.

The warlord finally moves, the last of his injuries healing as he stumbles towards them. He looks pissed, even though all they can see of his expression is his narrowed red eyes. “So…the rumors are true.” –he purrs, in perfectly live-translated English. That’s odd; she would’ve expected to hear Kryptonian, the way translator implants usually work. She wonders what that says about her…or if, perhaps, Krypton has already faded into galactic obscurity. “I’ll admit, I did not believe it, hearing it when I finally awoke after my defeat.” –he continues. “Terran champions, powerful enough to resist the Black Order…however briefly.”

Tony steps forward, never one to take a challenge lightly. “I think you’ll find that we can do a lot better than briefly.”

Vilgax sneers. “The Asgardian among you, perhaps. But you Terrans are famous for being…” –he trails off, waving all around them, at the destruction his forces have caused. “…easily broken. Tell me: how is it that you were able to fend off the Chitauri? How did you survive, where so many others have perished?”

A cold pit settles in her stomach; she didn’t know the Chitauri were a widespread problem, one that evidently many throughout the Milky Way fear. It’s a sobering thought – she knew they were on track to be overwhelmed by the alien invaders before Tony delivered the nuke, but she couldn’t have imagined how close they apparently came to joining what appears to be a growing genocide.

“Maybe we’re tougher than we look.” –Steve retorts. “Are you sure you wanna try us?”

For a split second, it looks like Vilgax doesn’t. But he soon covers it up with a mad, villainous cackle. “You say that like there’s any other choice, human.” –he claims. “No…the Omnitrix will be mine soon. I will have my revenge, and the galaxy will bask in my victory!”

Beside her, Tony rolls her eyes at the warlord’s claims before replacing the helmet over his head. It’s a bit much, she agrees, but the conviction in the alien’s voice is genuine. Loathe as she is to admit it…it reminds her of Doom.

The wrecked torso of one of the larger drones slides, sparking, into view, right between Vilgax and them. Hulk roars, leaping onto the field, drenched in the synthetic blood of his robotic enemies. “NO MORE TALK! SMASH SQUID MAN NOW!”

She can’t help but chuckle a little. The Hulk clearly has no time for banter. “Sounds like a plan to me.” –she says.

Hulk charges forward; Vilgax meets him halfway, and the rest of them leap into action right after. It’s a strange sort of organized chaos, what follows – perhaps they’re still too early into their life as a team to be a well-oiled machine, but their teamwork has definitely improved. They keep the warlord guessing, taking every chance they get to sneak in a repulsor blast or a sweep of her heat vision – and they know they can reflect both with Cap’s shield, so they don’t even need to have direct line of sight sometimes. Hulk’s game plan is mostly to wrestle the alien down, immobilize him enough that Thor can deliver a mighty blow with Mjolnir, or Kara can fly up and land a decent haymaker.

Vilgax gives as good as he gets, though; his massive size makes his sweeping blows difficult to avoid, and when he does manage to hit back, he demonstrates he’s no slouch in the strength department. He may not have the raw strength she and Hulk have been gifted with – and indeed, it seems like Thor might edge him out, too – but he’s got very good technique, even disoriented from being attacked on all sides. His omnidirectional laser blasts help, too; he soon learns that Cap is (technically) their weakest link, so he tries to focus the worst of his attacks on the Super Soldier, who’s forced to stay on top of his game in order to avoid a fatal blow. There’s a couple of times where only the timely repositioning of his shield manages to protect him from getting fried.

The fight is something of a stalemate; Vilgax can’t match their teamwork, but they can’t finish him off, either, and just as much as they learn his patterns and weaknesses, so too does the warlord begin to adapt. He even unfurls a few of the tentacles in his arms, using them as whips to keep Tony and Steve at bay, and as vines against her, Thor, and Hulk, to latch onto their arms and legs and limit their motion.

A few chaotic minutes pass, and Vilgax grows tired of the stalemate; he explodes his tentacles outward, forcing them all to back off, and when they reform into his arms, the cylinders that run along their length punch into his flesh, causing the limbs to swell dramatically, crackling with crimson electricity. Hulk tries to smash him, but Vilgax holds up one of his engorged arms and easily blocks the blow, and with his right hand, he uppercuts the Emerald Titan, sending him flying straight into her.

Both of them are tossed miles into the air, with such force that neither of them can make sense of their surroundings – even as they punch through the dreadnought’s hull and come out the top. Kara finally manages to stabilize and reorient herself, grabbing onto Hulk’s leg.

“Did Hulk see…?” –he trails off, upside down and mildly disoriented.

“…the flying RV from before and a bunch of people diving out of our way about six decks deep inside the ship?” –she completes for him, equally befuddled. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Weird fight.” –Hulk surmises. “PUNCH SOME MORE!”

Kara smirks. “You got it, buddy.”

They fly back to the battle, but almost as soon as they arrive, the underside of the alien dreadnought starts exploding – they must’ve damaged something critical as they pierced its innards, Kara realizes. Hulk doesn’t really care, immediately leaping towards Vilgax again, but she knows enough about astrophysics and starship engineering to know that this is a much bigger problem than the heat and pressure that reaches them a few seconds after; a ship that size can’t be held aloft in-atmosphere by its maneuvering thrusters alone – it probably houses a vast array of anti-gravity projectors to reduce the stress on that system. The explosions wracking the warship are spread throughout exactly where she might expect to find those anti-gravity projectors, and that means that the vessel won’t be able to hover much longer.

“Well, that’s not good.” –she manages.

Tony’s helmet retracts. He looks appropriately grim. “A hundred million tons free-falling half a dozen miles isn’t good by any stretch of the imagination, no.” –Tony agrees.

Hulk and Thor keep Vilgax occupied as they evaluate the situation. “Can you stop it?” –Steve asks, hitting his shoulder against a nearby semi-intact wall. It must’ve gotten dislocated while they were flying.

“I can lift a couple hundred tons, Cap.” –Tony snorts. “Kinda falling short of the tonnage of an entire alien warship.”

Rogers sighs. “I was talking to Kara.” –he clarifies, distinctly unimpressed.

She winces; she was afraid this was coming. “I…honestly don’t know.” –she admits. “I’ve never tried lifting anything remotely as heavy as that.”

The heaviest thing S.H.I.E.L.D. had her successfully lift (and only for a few seconds, at that) was a decommissioned Nimitz-class aircraft carrier – a mere hundred thousand tons or so, less than one percent the weight of the falling alien ship, if Stark’s scans of it are accurate. She honestly doubts that she could manage it – but the vessel has very obviously started to lose altitude, and judging by the explosions still rocking its hull, the situation isn’t getting any better.

“It looks like you’re gonna have to try.” –Rogers confirms her fears.

The warship lurches forward, its main thrusters roaring to life and propelling it away from the town – the team inside probably knows there’s no helping the fall, so they must be trying to crash it away from civilization, minimizing the damage.

“Go talk to the kids.” –Tony suggests. “Maybe you don’t have to lift the whole thing. And if you do, they’ll probably be able to tell you the best way to do it.”

She takes a deep breath, nervous but resolute. “Got it.” –she nods. “You guys good with Vilgax?”

Hulk sails over them, cackling like a madman even though he’s been absolutely decked by the warlord. Another thunderbolt strikes Vilgax, who howls in pain in the distance. “I think we’ll be fine.” –Stark says, sarcastically.

Supergirl shakes her head, and takes off as fast as she dares to. The ship’s descent is slow, so it takes her only a half-minute or so to catch up; she punches through the hole she and Hulk made, following it until she encounters the hallway she saw the flying RV at, ever so fleetingly. Tire tracks lead towards the heart of the ship, which she follows – along with the trail of wrecked bots, until she finds a destroyed blast door, inside of which the people she’s looking for are frantically trying to keep the warship from falling.

“Supergirl!” –the violet, crystalline one says, awed.

“That’s me.” –she smiles reassuringly. “How can I help?”

The blue and bloody one scoffs, derisively. “Unless you can somehow lift millions of tons on a whim, there’s nothing you can do.”

She doesn’t appreciate the alien’s tone, but she also has to admit that she’s not entirely sure. “I mean, I haven’t tried yet, but…it’s a solid ‘maybe’.” –she shrugs.

The boy in the white and black shirt with the alien wristwatch – the fabled Omnitrix, no doubt – pipes up. “Supergirl is strong, Hala. Like, incredibly strong.” –he tells the blue alien, apparently named Hala. Kara wonders if she might not be Kree, like Hawkeye and Widow told her about. “If anyone can do it, it’s her.”

He looks at her in wonder as he jogs over, offering his hand in greeting. She shakes it, careful not to break it. She doesn’t get to thank him for his confidence, though, as the Omnitrix’s inner green glow suddenly becomes yellow, and its faceplate starts spinning rapidly. “Uh…is your watch supposed to do that?” –she asks, frowning.

The teen looks equally befuddled, shaking his head. “It’s never done it before…but I’m sure it’s fine?” –he tries to reassure them both. The problem is, the amber light spills out of the Omnitrix, consuming his entire body. Her hand is stuck in place, and indeed, she feels like she can’t move for a few seconds; the kid’s body starts changing, becoming taller, more filled out…and decidedly feminine. The yellow light turns green, and she can finally let go, taking a step back as the emerald light bursts out and finally subsides. Where the boy once stood, now stands a young woman.

No, that’s not quite right. It’s not just any young woman – it’s her, her own face and body identically replicated, except for the boy’s short, wavy brown hair and bright green eyes replacing her own, and the white leotard she wears instead of her suit. The shield of her House is gone, replaced by nothing but a wide oval cut out of the leotard’s chest; instead, the Omnitrix’s symbol adorns her left shoulder, and a black belt sits at her waist, but that’s all she wears – she doesn’t even have shoes.

Kara can’t help it; she covers her mouth in horror and confusion. She barely even hears the newcomer yell ‘Power Girl!’ as she strikes a heroic pose, fists at her hips and chest puffed out the way Kara herself has been known to announce herself. The others are no less surprised, if less horrified to see a clone of her stand in their midst. “Wh-what just happened!?” –she demands. “Why is there another one of me!?”

“And why does she have a boob window?” –the long haired young man mutters, earning him an elbow to the ribs from the crystalline woman.

The Kryptonian blushes despite herself. Her doppelganger does too, when she looks down and sees what she’s wearing. “Oh my gosh.” –Power Girl says, and if Kara thought she’d be less freaked out, she’s swiftly corrected when she hears her own voice come out of her lookalike. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t pick the suit!”

Kara scoffs. “The suit? What about my voice? What about my face!?” –she asks. “What in Rao’s name is going on here?”

The Omnitrix symbol on Power Girl’s shoulder glows, and the projected hologram of a tiny little frog man, stands sternly beside her head. “No need to panic…huh, Kryptonian, eh? Never heard of your kind before.” –the minuscule amphibian notes. Obscurity it is, Kara thinks to herself, though it still doesn’t make sense to her. Krypton was a massive empire, once, after all. “I simply took the liberty of having the Omnitrix scan your genetic profile, fill a gap in its database – and perhaps allow young Ben here to aid you in keeping Vilgax’s flaming, misshapen lump of metal from wiping out half a continent.”

Power Girl scowls. “Jesus, Azmuth, didn’t you ever hear of consent? Haven’t you learned anything since Tetrax?” –she shakes her head.

The frog man, Azmuth, scoffs, though he seems to have the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Berate me if you must, Tennyson – after you stop the Hammer from crashing.” –he retorts.

The ship’s innards groan as more explosions rock its structure. “Whatever it is that you two can supposedly do, you must do it now.” –Hala urges. “The warship is about to lose all vertical lift.”

She knows that, though it’s no small ask to expect her to just accept Power Girl’s sudden existence without a second thought. Still, they have much more pressing matters to worry about, so she decides to suck it up until after the fight. “I’m not gonna lie. This is…extremely weird.” –she admits, sighing. “But I know this isn’t your fault, erm…Power Girl. And besides, they’re right – we need to keep this ship from crashing, no matter what.”

Power Girl nods, determined. “Alright. How do we do this?”

The way they do it is admittedly a bit unorthodox; Gwen, the young woman seemingly made of a flexible, amethyst-like material, is an alien of the Anodite race. Kara hasn’t heard about them before, but the way their powers work keenly reminds her of the Green Lantern Corps – she can create magical energy constructs in any shape she wants, and they’re as durable as she wills them to be. She proposes creating a series of tethers tied to the strongest points of the dreadnought’s superstructure, evenly spreading the ship’s weight, and tied to Power Girl and Supergirl above and below the ship, respectively pulling and pushing it up. She’s volunteered to be on the bottom; Power Girl assures her that their abilities are exactly the same, but Kara isn’t about to let anyone else bear that (literal) weight.

If they fail, she’ll be the one crushed under a hundred million tons of metal. It’s not exactly a pleasant prospect, but at least there would be another part-time Kryptonian out there to take her place, right?

Right.

Hala identifies all the strongest spots, and a few extra in case the ship is too damaged. Then, they exit the vessel, heading to their respective positions, and wait as the Anodite forges the energy tethers, and when they’re ready, they get to work.

She almost gives out instantly; the weight is...indescribable, beyond anything she’s ever experienced – and hopefully beyond anything she’ll ever experience. Every single muscle in her body (and her bones, and her tendons, and probably her organs, too) protests, the load she bears pushing her to her absolute limit. She hates to admit it, but she’s not sure she could’ve done this alone; perhaps Thor could’ve helped, if push came to shove, but she has to begrudgingly appreciate the turn of fate that created Power Girl, because without her...well, she’d rather not think about it.

The vessel does climb, though. It’s not the fastest method, of course, and Earth’s gravity fights them for every inch, but the Chimeran Hammer flies further and further up into the atmosphere. She’s drenched in sweat, her eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of their sockets, her scars stretch uncomfortably wide, and she’s pretty sure she won’t be able to move her arms for a whole week, but she’s doing it. After a few minutes – during which Tony comes to check on her before going up and meeting Power Girl – the warship is high enough that its maneuvering thrusters can take over, and the Hammer begins limping to a stable orbit.

Kara drifts a bit as she lets go of the makeshift platform above her, itself disintegrating into pink particles. Her cheeks are stained with tears from the sheer effort she exerted, and her spine, neck, shoulders, and arms are screaming at her in pain. She wonders if this is what Atlas might feel like, should he get a break from holding up the sky – maybe she should ask him, now that she knows the Titan most likely exists somewhere. Facing and losing to Doom may have been more terrifying, but this is, by far, the hardest thing she’s had to do as Supergirl.

Still, there is a sense of contentedness in her accomplishment. The dreadnought cruises away from the vibrant curvature of planet Earth, extending all around her. She’s not so high up that she can’t breathe – does she even need to? She doesn’t feel like she’s asphyxiating – but the air is so thin here that if she shouted, it’d come out as a murmur. She’s technically in freefall, but she’s so far from the surface that she’s got a good few minutes before she actually feels like she’s falling.

She realizes, in a sobering moment, that she’s never been here, at the edge of space – never tried to leave Earth, even just to see if she could. It’s tempting now, technically within reach, but she fears the consequences. Ever since she came to this planet, ever since she developed her powers, she’s always feared them.

Then again, she did just shatter her weight-lifting personal best, a thousand times over.

The flying RV winks in the distance, glinting with the unfiltered sunlight. It flies up to her, Power Girl and Iron Man clinging to each side of the makeshift spacecraft. For now, she turns away from the void that beckons her – there’s still a job to finish, after all, a warlord to defeat, and a city to save. But she can’t help but glance back as she grabs onto the vehicle’s roof and they take off towards Arcadia for the final confrontation.

Something tells her she’ll be back, sooner or later.

Chapter Text

“Didn’t take you for an astronomy buff.”

Kara looks up, mildly startled, from the incredibly detailed hologram of the Milky Way she’s feverishly examining, readjusting her glasses and pushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face. Lena’s at the door, leaning on the frame with an expression equal parts amused and concerned. “I’m not. Not really.” –Kara retorts. “Just going over the files Director Brand gave me access to.”

Lena comes inside and pulls up a swiveling chair from the desk on the corner of the room. “Right, S.W.O.R.D.” –she says, sarcastically. “Secret international agencies and their stupid acronyms, I swear.”

Kara shrugs. “They make for memorable names, I guess.”

Lena hums, non-committal. She nods at the map. “So…what’re you looking for?”

The Kryptonian sighs. “My home. What’s left of it, anyway.” –she admits. “I’ve been looking for Krypton on the most up-to-date star charts S.W.O.R.D. has – which are themselves derived from the Kree Empire’s current galaxy map – but I can’t seem to find it.”

The ravenette winces. “I know it’s gone, Lena.” –Kara says before Lena can comment. “Saw it with my own eyes. Felt the pressure wave from the explosion rattle my bones, even through the pod’s hull and protective shielding.” –she says, bitterly. “But…well, look.”

She expands a section of the map, relatively close to the icon labelled ‘Earth’. The diagram of a solar system manifests – inaccurate in regards to planetary distances, but to scale when it comes to the size of the celestial bodies themselves. “This is supposed to be Rao.” –Kara says, pointing at the star at the system’s core, an aging Red Dwarf by the looks of it. “Humans call it LHS 2520 or Gliese 3707, depending on the labelling system. It matches the sun I grew up under – a small red star, cooler than most, less than fifty light years away from Earth.” –she says.

Kara points at the planets orbiting Rao. “This is Boron. Pretty similar to Mercury – really tiny, blasted by the sun, utterly lifeless. Then there’s Phalon, which resembles Mars, though much smaller and devoid of any water, past or present. Next is Thalon, a water world, fully covered in oceans and thunderstorms, the barest hints of protozoan life sprouting beneath its waves.” –she explains. “And Krypton...Krypton should be right here.”

Lena can see the problem; in the place of the orbit where the planet Krypton should be is an asteroid belt, much like the one between Mars and Jupiter. She winces. “I’m sorry, Kara, but…isn’t that Krypton?”

Kara shakes her head. “I know how it looks, but…asteroid belts don’t form that quickly. Because of the way time works inside, I’m not entirely sure how long I spent in the Phantom Zone, but it couldn’t have been more than a few decades, judging by the state of my pod. Plus, there’s not nearly enough mass in this asteroid belt to account for even one of Krypton’s moons, let alone all four, plus the sister planetoid Daxam, plus Krypton itself. It just doesn’t make any sense.” –she explains, then points at the final planet in the system, a ringed gas giant resembling Saturn. “And yet here’s Haron, right where it should be. I don’t understand.”

The blonde waves her hand, and the hologram dissipates. “Coupled with the fact that Director Brand has apparently never heard of Krypton, or the Kryptonian Empire, and…well, it’s almost like it never existed to begin with.”

“Maybe your bumpy ride here jumped you forward in time.” –Lena suggests. “So much so that Krypton’s existence has faded from memory. And…well, I’m no astrophysicist, but given how violent Krypton’s destruction was, maybe that asteroid belt is all that’s left, at least at its former orbit.”

Kara hums, unconvinced. “Maybe. I don’t know, Lena, something feels off.” –she muses, then shakes her head. “But I guess I’ll have to figure that out later.”

“I’ll help.” –Lena promises. “But yes, I did come here because the, uh…package is finally being off-loaded. Rogers wants you around, just in case.”

“Well, one does not refuse a call to action from Captain America.” –Kara nods, sagely. “Come on, let me show you the alien I helped beat up.”

Even knowing that she could probably toss him into orbit, Vilgax still cuts a very intimidating figure, encased in the multi-ton block of Petrosapien crystal as he is. Thor is carefully carrying it off the back of a fresh Quinjet, Steve guiding him down the ramp.

“Are we entirely sure that this is the best idea?” –Romanoff asks, frowning at the frozen warlord as she sits atop a S.H.I.E.L.D. crate - eating a bowl of Froot Loops, oddly enough. She must’ve missed her breakfast. “If this thing breaks free in the middle of New York, it’s gonna be a nightmare on several levels.”

“He can’t.” –Bruce reassures her. “This crystal completely impedes the passage of time for whatever’s encased within it – his entire being, down to the atoms that make up his cells, is stuck at the moment he was encased, and not a nanosecond later. Look!” –he says, excitedly bringing up a wristwatch surrounded by the same material. Sure enough, the watch is frozen, the hands on its face completely motionless.

Natasha narrows her eyes. “Maybe the batteries ran out.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “Please, Agent Romanoff, I’m not an undergraduate. I ran the pertinent tests myself.” –he says.

“So we can blame you when it does break free, then?” –the redhead teases.

The scientist sighs. “Given my track record, isn’t everyone?”

“Not to worry, Doctor Banner.” –Lena says, walking into the room alongside Kara. “I’m sure Mr. Stark’s massively overfunded PR efforts will absolve you before people even think to blame you.”

“You won’t think they’re overfunded when they get people to ignore all the property damage your enormous tin can is gonna cause just by walking around, Luthor.” –Barton drawls, leaning on a nearby wall, his bow at the ready, just in case.

Lena raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Ah, Agent Barton. Impressive posture, but...you do realize it took the might of a Norse god to subdue the new paperweight, yes?”

“Oh, don’t do him like that. He’s sensitive about the bow.” –Romanoff says, smirking.

“Is it because it’s a few centuries out of date?” –Lena asks, innocently.

“You’re gonna eat those words next time the Captain sets us up for a training exercise, Luthor.” –Clint says, miffed.

Kara shakes her head at the mild bickering, walking over to Thor. “Need a hand?” –she asks the Asgardian, a bit sarcastically.

He chuckles. “Good one, friend!” –he says.

She rubs the back of her head. “Yeah, I figured you had it covered, but I admittedly don’t know how strong you actually are.” –she admits. “I haven’t really sat down to read all the dossiers yet.”

“Eh, neither have I.” –he easily shrugs, despite the massive load he’s carrying. “I prefer to discover such things through combat; the S.H.I.E.L.D. scribes are much too wordy in their descriptions. Their archives are a rather dry read.”

“Not quite as exciting as the boastful tales you’re used to, I take it?” –Steve says, behind the crystal block.

Thor grins. “Indeed!” –he says, setting Vilgax down a few feet from the ramp, which closes, the Quinjet beginning to take off and away from the hangar. “Oh, you should visit my home sometime soon, my friends. The golden halls of Asgard would surely sing of your valor in no time at all!”

“Looking forward to it.” –Steve says, glancing at their macabre trophy. “Alright: Stark says he’s prepared a sort of vault for dangerous artifacts we can put this guy in for the time being.”

“Indeed, Captain. Mr. Stark calls it the ‘Trophy Room’.” –JARVIS supplies. “It is an isolated, lead-lined titanium vault powered by its own arc reactor, able to be detached and expelled from the Tower in case of emergency.”

Kara raises an eyebrow. “’Expelled’? How?”

A couple of holographic projectors above them light up, showcasing a diagram of the Tower. An entire floor in the midst of the Avengers section is highlighted. “The Trophy Room occupies an entire floor of the Tower. In case of emergency, the elevators are sealed off, titanium security panels replace the windows and paneling, and the whole structure is detached from the building. It is subsequently held aloft by Repulsor thrusters and ejected from the premises, to be sent anywhere within its five-thousand mile operational radius, including lower Earth orbit.”

Steve whistles. “Damn. He really went all out.”

Kara hums, impressed. “No kidding.”

“I must introduce him to the Dwarves of Nidavellir.” –Thor muses. “There is much they could learn from each other.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “What are they like?”

“Ah, fantastic craftsmen! The most talented smiths and inventors in all the Nine Realms, to be sure – they invented the Oculory that focuses Bifröst’s magic and allows us to travel between the Realms, and they forged my trusted Uru warhammer, Mjolnir, at the heart of the dying star they call home.” –he explains.

The Captain nods along, though he looks a little disappointed. “So, not quite like Tolkien described, then?”

“You read The Lord of the Rings, Cap?” –Kara wonders.

He shrugs. “I read The Hobbit. The others came out a little after my time.” –he admits. “I couldn’t afford the book, but Bucky gave it to me after he was finished with it. Still haven’t found the time to read the rest of Tolkien’s works, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps you could introduce me to these folk tales, Captain.” –Thor suggests. “I could tell you how they compare to the Dwarves I know and love.”

“Ooo, I think I’m hearing Lord of the Rings movie night, gentlemen.” –Kara smirks. “Well, nights. They’re really long movies.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Hmm. I guess that could be a good team-building exercise, if we have the time.”

Kara rolls her eyes. “It’s not about team-building, Captain, it’s just watching a movie. Team dynamics need not apply to eating buttery popcorn and gasping in terror at the Nazgûl.”

Thor hums, approvingly. “That does sound like a fearsome name.”

Steve shakes his head, amused. “We’ll see.” –he says, non-committal. “Let’s get our guest into his quarters first.”

A short ride on the large service elevator at the core of the building later, they arrive at the so-called Trophy Room. It’s a wide space, set up almost like a museum installation, with exhibit like pods lining the walls and smaller pedestals interspersed among the support pillars.

Kara’s surprised to find that there’s already a few things on display; for the most part, it’s battle-damaged Iron Man armors, likely the actual suits Tony has used in his own personal skirmishes. Unlike the replicas at the quote-unquote Avengers museum in the Tower’s base levels, these don’t have brief-yet-vague summaries of their capabilities and usage beside them, but rather a comprehensive evaluation of their performance in battle – strengths and short-comings, determined by Tony himself, to be improved in further models. Kara approaches one of the more heavily damaged armors; a thinly armored suit designated Mark V – the one he used in Monaco, a portable, lightweight variant only meant for emergencies, lacking the ability to fly, as well as any further weaponry than the standard repulsor emitters at the palms and soles of the boots.

“I watched the footage of that fight.” –Steve says, next to her. “If I’d watched it live, I don’t know that I would’ve expected him to survive.”

“Yeah, his evaluation of it basically boils down to ‘convenient but paper-thin’.” –Kara notes, after reading the text beside it. “That’s Tony for you, though. Stubborn as all hell. Wouldn’t be surprised if he outlives us all.” –she says, then turns to Thor. “Well, maybe not all of us.”

“Nay, but the sentiment rings true.” –Thor acknowledges. “Angry as I was at the time, I found it amusing that this nameless human chose to stand in my way. I held back my full might, of course, but he soon proved an opponent worthy of my respect – and an ally now, worthy of my friendship.”

“I’d advise you all refrain from praising Mr. Stark so much when he’s around. Poor Miss Potts and I will never hear the end of it.” –JARVIS chimes in from the ceiling.

Rogers snorts. “Good point.”

There’s other curiosities worthy of attention, such as Whiplash’s original harness (also used at the skirmish in Monaco), the unfinished prototype of some kind of composite shield resembling Cap’s, various pieces of Chitauri technology, and even some sizable fragments of warped metal from the Asgardian Destroyer – Thor raises an eyebrow at these, but ultimately shrugs, saying something about Uru being impossible for mortals to work with, which should render these fragments harmless.

Steve doesn’t seem too convinced – and Kara, too, thinks it’s a little naive to think Tony’s only keeping the debris around as a trophy – but they both refrain from commenting.

Vilgax is placed in one of the main ‘exhibits’, barely fitting due to the warlord’s awe-inspiring size. Kara gives him a last wary glance as a series of scanners begin analyzing the crystal coffin, and a transparent barrier rises from the floor to keep anyone from getting too close. “I will devote a portion of my local processes exclusively to monitoring our new guest. Rest assured, I will notify you at the first sign of trouble.” –the AI reassures them.

“Thanks, JARVIS.” –Kara says.

The trio exit the Trophy Room, then, headed back to the common area, where the others await them, comically crowded around a very small box. “You, uh, got something while you were busy.” –Bruce tells Kara, pointing at the tiny object like it’s some kind of interloper.

Kara tilts her head, confused; it’s a minuscule gift box, like one might expect for a cheap ring or earrings, with a similarly small bow on top. It’s also surrounded by soot, like a tiny explosion went off around it. “Who’s it from?” –she asks, grabbing it.

“Considering it spawned from thin air, I imagine it’s from Doctor Strange.” –Lena says, witheringly.

The blonde opens the box, adjusting her glasses; inside lies a small ticket, like you might expect from a machine at an arcade. The ticket has a message; it says, in the typical typewriter font, ‘Valid for Admittance: Kara Zor-El + 2’. She doesn’t even have time to wonder what the hell is going on before a familiar portal appears in front of her.

Kara almost blasts into it with her heat vision, no questions asked; logically, she knows from watching footage of the battle she missed after getting stabbed that this kind of portal isn’t exclusive to Doctor Doom, but seeing the circle of sparks still triggers her fight or flight response a little.

“You alright, Kara?” –Lena asks, concerned.

Kara hums, snapping herself out of her reverie. “Yeah. Just...bad memories.” –she says. “You’re right, it’s from Strange.”

“He must be antsy to get the hunt for Victor underway.” –Steve says, raising an eyebrow.

She nods. “Yup. This is an invitation – for myself and two people.” –she reports. “So...who wants to come?”

“Pass. I’m gonna veto any magic-related bullshit for at least a few months.” –Barton drawls.

“Busted arm. Sorry.” –Romanoff points at her sling. “Have fun with the wizard, though.”

“Unfortunately, I have to take off in an hour.” –Steve grouses. “Fury wants me to give the World Security Council an earful for their choices regarding Arcadia and New York.”

Kara shrugs. “That’s alright, Cap. Do me a favor, though, and give Fury himself an earful for me, yeah?” –she says, scornful. Steve nods, very much of the same mind.

“I’ll join your merry band, of course!” –Thor says, clapping Kara’s back and offering a wide grin. “I haven’t been on Midgard of my own accord for centuries! I’m eager to see what it has to offer now.”

“I guess it’s down to your or me, Lena.” –Bruce says, visibly apprehensive.

Lena winces. “I’m afraid it’s actually just you, Doctor Banner. The GUARDIAN armor is almost ready for a field test; I’ll be joining Skye and Winn at Stark’s facility upstate as soon as I get the call.” –she says, then turns to her. “Sorry, Kara. I wish I could join you.”

“Yeah, no worries.” –Kara says.

Bruce looks rather chagrined, so she crosses her arms. “I can probably call Peter, see if he’s available.” –she offers.

The Hulk’s alter ego sighs. “No, it’s fine. I just hope you don’t expect me to do any fighting. I don’t think the people of New York would forgive my tendency to cause massive property damage a third time.”

Kara offers a reassuring smile. “I’m sure there’ll be none of that.” –she says, as confident as she can manage. “Though...maybe wear your stretchy pants, just in case?”

“Unfortunately for any future romantic prospects, I always wear a pair, these days.” –Bruce admits, a humorless smirk decorating his face.

Seeing that Thor is already in his princely regalia, Kara thinks that she should probably grab her suit as well. No sooner does she think this, though, is she suddenly through the portal, Thor and Bruce right behind her – and looking down at herself, she’s somehow already wearing her suit.

“Oh, this is gonna be a long day, isn’t it?” –she sighs.

Chapter Text

The trio of Avengers is greeted with the interior of a rather stately looking manor, of sorts, shelves full of books and pedestals topped with strange artifacts everywhere around them. At first glance, the place looks relatively normal, if slightly eccentric – like the retirement home of the richest librarian in the planet, perhaps – but looking a little longer makes it clear that this is, indeed, a place of magic.

It’s the floating red cape that does it, really. It hangs in mid-air inside a glass casing, turning to them and waving one of its golden clasps as if to say ‘hi’.

Of course, it’s not just that. It’s the massive orb representing the Earth in the atrium before them, flanked by staircases, lit up like a Christmas tree by pinpricks of golden light all over the globe, floating unaided. It’s the lineup of enchanted weapons – a purple, spectral bow, a bronze trident awash in a torrent of water, a wooden staff topped with the biggest ruby she’s ever seen, wreathed in flame…and a very old revolver, also on fire, just to name a few. It’s the skeleton of an honest-to-goodness griffin, posed in flight, pouncing on what is apparently a Manticore, given the plaque beneath them both, hanging over a tapestry depicting all sorts of mythological creatures, from goblins to actual, real-life dragons.

“This is...” –Kara trails off.

“A lot?” –Bruce mutters.

“It’s magic, my friends.” –Thor smirks. “And only but a taste.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” –a young, exhausted sounding voice comes up behind them. The trio turn, and a dour-looking young man waves at them, half-heartedly. His hair is long, unruly, and pitch-black. He wears an old aviator’s jacket over what looks to be an Ancient Greek-style breastplate, made of dark metal and engraved with deathly motifs. The breastplate fits him perfectly, but the jacket and his ripped black jeans are a little ill-fitting, overly loose on him, owing to his lanky physique. A short sword hangs from a scabbard at his waist, and an ornate skull ring adorns his left hand. “Doc Strange said you were coming. He’ll, uh...be a moment. He’s at the London Sanctum right now. What’s left of it, anyway.”

Bruce blinks. “How on Earth is he gonna ‘be a moment’?”

“The Masters of the Mystic Arts can open portals to any location a sorcerer has been to before.” –Nico explains. He glowers. “Sure could’ve used something like that while I was hauling a forty-foot tall statue of Athena across the Atlantic a couple years back, but I digress.” –he says, sarcastically.

Kara purses her lips, trying to parse through the bevy of new terms. “Right. I guess introductions are in order, then.”

“Eh, I know who you guys are.” –he drawls, waving her off. “Not really one to keep up with the news, but even then, it’s kinda hard not to know about the Avengers.”

“Then you have us at a disadvantage.” –Bruce points out.

He sighs. “Nico di Angelo. Demigod, of the Greek variety.” –he says, like he’s been through this a lot.

“Son of…Hades?” –Thor asks.

Nico smirks sardonically. “What gave it away? Was it the skulls? I bet it was the skulls.”

“Oh, no, it’s the general aura of death around you.” –Thor shrugs. “Your presence feels quite like the stilled air of Helheim.”

“Right. Forgot you guys have your own death realms.” –Nico admits. “I don’t think human souls go to those much…at least, not anymore.”

“Not since I was young, no.”

“Christianity, huh? We know that song and dance.”

Bruce shoots them both a withering look. “Can we postpone the afterlife discussion for another day? I don’t think I have the mental bandwidth for more than a couple of earth-shattering revelations today, and I’m betting Strange will have some doozies in store for us.”

“Safe bet, Doctor Banner.” –Nico acknowledges. “I’m not one for small talk, but do you have any questions? Most people do, when confronted with the existence of the son of a real life god.”

He doesn’t look like he’d enjoy the questionnaire, but Kara can’t really help herself; the existence of the Kryptonian gods was debatable, even among those few who wielded magic and truly believed in their power, but Nico is as tangible as proof gets that the Olympian pantheon was more than a figure of myth and worship for the Ancient Greeks. “Are there more of you?” –Kara asks.

“Mmm, many. The gods have hundreds of children, and tens of thousands of direct descendants – legacies, we call them – spread throughout several communities all over the world.” –Nico says. “Though if you’re asking if there are any more demigod children of Hades, the answer is no; my father is quite faithful to Queen Persephone, all things considered. I have a…half-sister, I guess, but her father is Pluto, Hades’ Roman counterpart.”

Thor tilts his head. “Is that not the same god as Lord Hades?”

“It doesn’t really work that way. Same entity, different person, if that makes sense.” –the teen shrugs. “Pluto wouldn’t recognize me as his son, and Hades wouldn’t think of Hazel as his daughter. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t hang us out to dry, either way.”

“Who’s the Doctor a son of?” –Kara wonders.

Nico seems to find this funny. “A couple of mortals, I’m assuming.” –he says. “He’s not a demigod, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s just a regular human being, though admittedly a pretty dang powerful one that’s definitely mastered the kind of magic available to mortals. I’m the newcomer to the Sanctum, here; we’re putting together a team to tackle magical threats, kind of inspired by you guys.”

Kara’s not sure if she’s all that happy that Nico’s yet another underaged superhero, but she can’t exactly talk, since she’s encouraged both Peter and Ben’s team. To be fair, she’s only coming up on twenty-one, herself.

“So…what, you’re saying I could learn magic if I wanted to?” –Bruce asks.

“I doubt you’d have the time as an Avenger, but I see no reason you couldn’t physically master the Mystic Arts.” –Nico says. “Though... you’ll forgive me if I’m a little apprehensive about the prospect of a magically empowered Hulk.”

“No, no, that’s…sensible.” –Bruce winces.

Thor snorts. “Nonsense – I’d welcome the challenge!”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re a god, alright.” –he mutters.

“What about other pantheons? Other gods?” –Kara asks. “Heck, what about gods on other planets? Have you ever heard of Rao?” –she asks, hoping against hope.

The demigod tilts his head. “I’ve heard of Ra, but…no, not Rao, sorry. The gods don’t have any power or influence beyond the confines of the Earth, and I expect the same is true for the gods of other planets.” –he explains. “As for the other pantheons, it’s a case by case basis; some pantheons, like the Olympians, managed to survive – and even thrive – despite their active worship practically stopping altogether. Others faded away into obscurity, as their people took on other beliefs. Some were even actively shunned – most of the Egyptian gods were eventually deemed too dangerous to directly interact with humanity, and banished to the deepest depths of their magical realm.”

“I remember Midgard had a great many deities.” –Thor says, narrowing his eyes.

Nico shrugs. “Most of them are still around, in some form or another. But the big religions – and atheism, for that matter – are so massively widespread that they’ve either suppressed or absorbed many of the quote-unquote pagan gods.”

“You say that, but Hinduism is full of gods and the third largest religion on the planet.” –Bruce points out.

“Right. And the rest of the world couldn’t name three of their gods.” –Nico crosses his arms. “Some cultures keep their gods private. Others don’t, but the divide between cultural regions practically keeps them that way unless you purposefully go there and do your research. I can’t speak for what the Hindu gods are like, to be perfectly honest, or the gods of China and Japan. They exist, but...that’s really all I know.” –he says, apologetic. “Maybe a question for the Doctor, though given how annoyingly cryptic he usually is, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

A portal appears, Strange floating through it. “Sounds about right.” –he quips. “Gentlemen, Mademoiselle. Welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum. I imagine young Mr. di Angelo’s given you the tour?”

Kara shrugs. “Not so much, actually. We were too busy discussing this planet’s gods to see much of anything.”

“Right, well. To your right, you’ll see a small sample of the Sanctum’s magical artifact collection, including the Trident of King Namor, the Staff of Bellroc, and a 19^th century Hellfire-infused revolver donated by some Spirit of Vengeance or another.” –he says, sounding like he’d rather be doing anything else than playing tour guide.

Bruce snorts. “It’s alright, Doctor. We can get on with our business, plenty of time to look around afterwards.”

“Hmm. Assuming Victor von Doom doesn’t unmake the fabric of reality in the near future, I suppose you’re right.” –Strange says.

The Sorcerer Supreme waves his hands, and suddenly, they’re somewhere else – still in the Sanctum, but in a study of sorts, overlooked by a massive, circular window with a strange seal that looks like a messed up tic-tac-toe grid. They’re all seated – except for Nico, who’s nowhere to be seen – around a large desk, behind which sits the Doctor.

“On to the matter at hand, then.”

“Do you know where Victor von Doom is?” –Kara asks, no nonsense.

“Not at the moment.” –he says. “But thanks to you, I can find out. You were struck by one of his spells, correct?”

She nods. “Some kind of paralysis magic. It didn’t hurt me, but I couldn’t move a muscle.”

The Sorcerer hums. “The spell would’ve left its mark on you. I can use it to track down Victor’s magical signature.” –he explains, then narrows his eyes. “Interesting that he would be able to employ Hecate’s magic; typically, magic wielders don’t mix and match their sorcery. They pick a school of magic, and stick to it.”

“It kinda felt like Doctor Doom had an answer for everything we could throw at him; tech, magic…even a bit of martial arts.” –Kara recounts.

Strange nods. “He is nothing if not prepared.” –he says. “While I can’t speak for his technological or martial prowess, I have looked into his magical training. It’s rather odd; despite his rather public profile as ruler of Latveria and the many powers he wields, I have found scant evidence of him coming into contact with any of the various magical communities on Earth. He wields a wizard’s power, for example, but he’s received no formal education from the various wizarding schools. He can summon and control Hellfire, but no demon recalls ever dealing with him.”

“You said he’s killed other versions of you out in the Multiverse, right?” –Bruce points out. “Maybe he learned on other Earths.”

“Quite possible, though there are some hurdles he would’ve had to overcome.” –Strange says. “Magic is a fickle thing, Doctor Banner; spells don’t necessarily translate one-to-one from universe to universe, and some magicks will simply refuse to work beyond their source, so to speak. It would take a tremendous amount of time and effort to master such techniques across various universes – and the mental fortitude required to command magic in such a way…it’s simply unheard of in a human.”

 Kara rolls her eyes. “Great. I guess we’re complimenting the supervillain, now.”

“Underestimating a foe will do you no favors, my friend.” –Thor points out.

“Yeah, yeah. Learned that one already, thanks.” –Kara retorts, her hand automatically resting over the scar on her abdomen. She turns to the Sorcerer, ready to move the conversation along. “You said you fought him, right?”

Strange sighs. “Briefly. Stupidly.” –he admits. “I’d only been the Sorcerer Supreme for a week – defeated Dread Dormammu, ruler of the Dark Dimension, and saved the world from being absorbed into his domain. The gods of Olympus had sought my aid in searching for the goddess Hecate, who has been absent since the end of the war against Gaia and her Giants.”

Bruce withers. “I’m sorry, I, uh…think you’re gonna have to take that one from the top, Doctor.”

The Sorcerer grumbles. “Short version: the Sorcerer Supreme gets to protect Earth from a great many magical threats, the being known as Dormammu perhaps chief among them. A rogue sorcerer attempted to gain the secret to immortality for humankind in exchange for our eternal service to Dormammu, and killed the previous Sorcerer Supreme, known only as the Ancient One, before I could put an end to his plans.” –he explains. “As for Gaia…”

He snaps his fingers, and Nico is suddenly standing beside him. He appears to have been about to start having lunch, as he holds a McNugget in one hand and a bottle of ketchup in the other. “Styx, would it kill you to make up your goddamn mind about including me or not?” –the demigod complains. Thunder rumbles in the distance, despite the day being perfectly sunny and clear. “What do you guys want now?”

“Something about Mother Earth and some Giants?” –Bruce prompts.

Nico sighs. “It’s not a pretty story.”

“So tell it quickly and be done with it.” –Strange urges.

“Fine, whatever. The Olympians have been more or less the top dogs among the various pantheons for thousands of years. Their predecessors, the Titans, weren’t particularly happy about it, and tried to overthrow them about five years ago. We managed to stop them and slay their ringleader – Kronos, the Titan of Time.” –he drones on. “Then his mother, Mother Earth herself, tried to capitalize on our losses, and brought back some of her other children, the Gigantes, pretty much what you might call the anti-gods. I think they wanted to start Earth over, wipe the slate clean, if you will. It was a close call, but we also managed to stop them.”

Bruce blinks. “…so you’re telling me there were at least four apocalyptic events in the past five years? The Titans, the Giants, this Dormammu business, and the Chitauri invasion?”

“Five if you count Vilgax.” –Kara reminds him. “His ship probably would’ve wiped out half the country if it’d crashed.”

“I just…it’s nuts, isn’t it?” –Bruce wonders. “It’s not just me? How is the world so close to being destroyed so often?”

“The threats our planet faces are as powerful as the people defending it.” –Strange says. “And not to sound conceited, but we are pretty damn powerful. It’s to be expected.”

Kara snorts. “That’s one way to put it, I guess.”

“And how is it even possible that people don’t know about half of this crap? The aliens I get, that took everyone by surprise, but how do these gods and monsters survive to be a problem all the way to the twenty-first century?” –Bruce wonders.

“The same way wizards and witches survived the dark ages, Doctor Banner. The same way people ignore hundreds of ghost attacks in Amity Park, Minnesota, or an interdimensional dream demon turning the small town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, into his personal hellscape for a day or two.” –Nico explains to his very confused audience. “Hell, it’s the same reason some people can believe that Thor is an alien but won’t buy that he’s the same deity worshipped by the Vikings a thousand years ago; there’s a mystical layer to reality that keeps mortals who aren’t in the know blissfully ignorant.”

“Most call it the Mist.” –Strange supplies. “That freak storm system that swept through the country five years ago, for example? Typhon, Greatest of All Monsters, making his way to Olympus and shrugging off the gods’ attacks.”

Kara does remember that; she also remembers feeling like she’d lost the day before the storm dissipated for no reason, almost like she’d slept through the whole thing.

Something tells her the two events are related.

“It didn’t always exist.” –Thor raises an eyebrow. “Or at least, not to the extent it appears to now. The mortals I knew when I first visited Midgard were quite aware that I was an Asgardian god, and they saw the Jötnar we slayed for what they were.”

“True enough. The Mist was sparsely used through much of antiquity, typically only employed to obscure the worst of magical conflicts; the people knew for a fact that their gods existed, that it was possible to encounter what we consider mythical creatures as easily as one might run into a bear in the woods.” –Strange agrees. “It was only during and after the Dark Ages that humanity began to fear and hate the unknown so much that they tried to destroy it.”

“Mortals call it the Dark Ages because societal progress stagnated and illiteracy ran rampant.” –Nico says. “The magical communities have a better reason; magical creatures were hunted down, to extinction in many cases. Satyrs run through by knights, Centaurs shot dead by crossbowmen, witches burned at the stake. What was once a sprawling magical world retreated into the safety of the darkest corners of the Earth, or attempted to hide amongst the mortals.”

“Toss in a few centuries of witch hunting, rampant colonization, and religious hegemony and you get the modern magical landscape: a few hidden magical groups and a massive amount of mortals completely unaware of their existence, outside of pop culture.”

Kara rubs her chin. “But it’s changing, isn’t it? S.H.I.E.L.D. is aware of their existence now. Fury’s working with you. And there’s been an increase in reports of cryptids and other such mythical creatures in the past few months.”

“Since the Chitauri invasion, yes.” –Strange nods. “There’s always been a scant few people naturally able to see through the veil of the Mist, but for most people, being asked to believe that modern day demigods exist would be a step too far.”

Nico crosses his arms. “At least, it used to be. But then aliens started raining from the sky, and superheroes popped up to drive them back.” –he says, nodding at the Avengers. “It’s a lot harder for the Mist to exploit human disbelief when you guys constantly push the bar lower and lower. Is it that hard to believe in Olympus when Thor hurls lightning at aliens atop the Empire State Building?”

“Add in the disappearance of the goddess Hecate, caretaker of this magical barrier, and you’ll understand the situation that compels us to join forces with you and seek the assistance of other worthy champions: the mortal world is on the verge of rediscovering its arcane past, and none of us know precisely how they’ll react.” –Doctor Strange says.

Mass hysteria is the first thing that comes to Kara’s mind. Then again, Nico’s right; most people have taken her whole being – an alien capable of flying, seemingly indestructible and limitless in strength – remarkably well. The Avengers are fairly universally seen in a positive light – who’s to say that they wouldn’t accept the magical community, or at least the not-too-scary parts of it, just as easily?

“Right, so…appreciate the explainer, but how does this get us closer to Doctor Doom? If it relates at all, that is.” –Kara asks.

Strange leans forward. “Well, it just so happens that I believe all of these events are linked.” –he says, turning to Kara. “Stop me if this sounds familiar, Miss Danvers: while tracking down Hecate’s whereabouts, I am drawn by a powerful magical essence to a secluded underground lair in Latveria’s neighboring country of Sokovia. The place holds monsters captive; Greek Telkhines and Gorgons, Egyptian Serpopards – even a handful of Norse Wights, freshly dug up from their barrows.” –he recounts.

“I am accosted by several dozen armed mercenaries, whom I defeat with ease. After I make my way through the facility, ensuring that all the monsters are banished to their respective underworlds and places of power, I’m attacked by a group of Egyptian magicians led by a Greek demigod – a daughter of Hecate, to be precise. She is formidable, but inexperienced, and I am able to swiftly defeat her and her entourage – only to come face to face with none other than Victor von Doom, in turn the source of this magical signature, and briefly duel the man.”

He frowns, his pride clearly insulted. “Victor easily overpowers me, practically toys with me. I sense echoes of past fights he’s had with other versions of me. He taunts me with this knowledge, mocks my weakness. Defeats me, if I’m honest, but before he can deliver the killing blow, he stays his hand and urges me to grow stronger – to become worthy of the title of Sorcerer Supreme. The next thing I know, I’m here, in the Sanctum, safe and sound and, I suppose, properly humbled.”

Kara scowls. “I guess I can pick up a few similarities.” –she admits.

“Indeed. Given our combined experiences, I believe, when it comes right down to it, that Victor is trying to prepare a generation of powerful heroes in order to defend the Earth from an incoming threat of colossal proportions.” –Strange says. “I believe he is trying to harden the population of Earth as a whole, to provoke the appearance of more and more champions by sponsoring supervillains by revealing the monsters and other such supernatural creatures that the Mist has kept hidden for centuries as potential threats to mortalkind.”

Kara pales, and turns to her fellow Avengers. Thor doesn’t seem too impressed, but Bruce is similarly shocked; he might not have been around to hear Doctor Doom’s little monologue, but he was still told by the others.

“This…incoming threat.” –Kara mutters, her mind spinning with so many revelations, her thoughts straying to Thanos and his Black Order. “What did he say about it? What do you know?”

“He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I told you at the Tower that he knew about the Chitauri before they’d invaded. Among his richly detailed memories of killing my Multiversal selves, I managed to steal a memory he didn’t mean to show me: his younger self, without any armor or powers, looking up at the sky as a seemingly endless horde of Chitauri descended on his fellow countrymen, razing Latveria to the ground.” –Strange says, somber. “Whatever dimension he originally comes from, Loki and the Chitauri must’ve been successful – either defeated that world’s version of the Avengers, or were left unimpeded by their absence.”

“So he’s attempting a do-over?” –Nico ponders. “Try again, this time with gusto, in the form of…what, a few extra heroes, or something?”

A thought comes to Kara, unbidden; she wonders what other teams of Avengers look like out in the Multiverse. Does Captain Rogers always go down with the Valkyrie, only to be dug up from the ice decades later, just in time to lead the team? Does Tony always get kidnapped, forced to create weapons for terrorists only to invent the Iron Man suit and bust out instead? What about her? How many Avengers teams is she a part of? What if Kal had survived? Would he be a young hero, like Peter and Ben?

Is Krypton and her species always doomed to die?

Kara suddenly stands up. “Whatever it is, we need to put a stop to it.” –she says, resolute. “Victor could’ve chosen to lead us into whatever great destiny we’re supposed to confront; instead, he sponsors secret supervillain societies and beats superheroes within an inch of their lives. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t think his oh-so-noble intentions matter at all. He’s a menace, and we need to take him down.”

“Hear, hear!” –Thor cheers.

“Bravado and chest-pounding, hooray.” –Strange says, sarcastically. “On to the matter of tracking him down, then.” –he says, rising from the chair, and suddenly, they’re back at the floating model of the planet. Nico is, once again, nowhere to be seen – Kara’s pretty sure he hears an annoyed groan in the distance.

Strange waves his hands over her form, and pulls some kind of golden energy out of her. It congeals into...well, into her, mirroring her movements and everything. There are a couple of stains, so to speak, on her body; one on her chest, colored a brilliant white, and two on her knuckles, whose color reminds her of the Tesseract.

“When our bodies are affected by magical energy, they’re left with scars – sometimes physical ones, and others, such as this, a stain upon our immortal souls. They tend to fade away with time, but these are certainly fresh enough.” –he explains. “The white magic here is a full-body binding curse. The cyan on your knuckles, though...not entirely sure, but it resembles the energy of the Eye of Agamotto, one of our most powerful artifacts.”

“I punched Titanium Man, and he was protected by energy from the Tesseract.” –she supplies.

The Sorcerer blinks. “Well, I certainly appreciate the perspective. Suddenly, my day job doesn’t seem quite as weird.” –he quips. “At any rate, while spells and curses can be learned by anyone with the discipline, divine heritage, or unholy patronage, the caster will always leave their particular mark, which I can use in a tracking spell. I was in no position to pursue Victor after my first defeat, but now...”

He takes the white magic, balls it between his gloved hands, and tosses it at the model of Earth. It splashes like water, then scurries along the globe in wide, curving paths, before finally settling into a single spot.

“...well, that’s concerning.” –Bruce says, apprehensive.

Kara would rather call it terrifying; according to the tracking spell, Victor von Doom is in New York right now. Somewhere underground, not two miles from the Sanctum, in fact.

“Interesting.” –Strange mutters.

“Convenient!” –Thor says, overly eager.

Strange rolls his eyes. Bruce tilts his head, confused. “What, is he riding the subway?”

The Sorcerer shakes his head, and snaps his fingers. Nico once more stands in their midst, a chicken nugget covered in barbeque sauce falling from his hand, down his breastplate, and onto the floor from the sudden transportation. “...I think I actually hate you, Strange.” –he hisses.

“Nevermind that.” –he dismisses the demigod’s complaint. “It appears you and Ellie will be taking point on this one, Nico; Victor appears to have secured himself a portion of Daedalus’ ruined Labyrinth.”

Chapter Text

Almost as soon as he drops the bombshell, Doctor Strange bounces.

“If we’re to traverse the Labyrinth, we’ll need to fetch Ariadne’s String.” –he says, opening a portal to a hazy, golden vista that doesn’t seem to Kara like any human place she’s ever seen. “I’ll ask to borrow it, and be back as soon as I have it.”

“W-wait a minute.” –Bruce stammers. “What do you mean the Labyrinth? The one with the Minotaur?”

Doctor Banner gets summarily ignored by their hosts. “We don’t need the String, Doctor.” –Nico grumbles. “Any mortal with the gift of Clear Sight…”

“None of them have it, Nico.” –Strange says, nodding at the Avengers. “And we don’t have the time to go hunting for one – I doubt you want to burden Mrs. Jackson or Miss Dare with something like this.”

The demigod grunts. “…fine. But as the resident expert on the Olympians, I’d caution you against relying on the gods for help.” –he says, then winces as he notices Thor’s raised eyebrow. “Uh, no offense.”

Thor shrugs his truly massive shoulders. “You’ve never had this particular god to rely on before, young prince, so none taken.”

“Peachy. Talk amongst yourselves, people.” –Strange smirks, stepping into the vortex and closing it behind him.

Nico sighs, turning to Bruce. “Apologies for ignoring you, Doctor Banner – seeking help from the gods is something of a hot button issue for most of us demigods.” –he says, bitterly. “To answer your question, yes and no; the original Labyrinth was, of course, located under the island of Crete, but much like the Greek world of myth, it has projected itself onto the American continent as the gods moved on with Western civilization. That’s how you get Mount Olympus above the Empire State Building.”

Kara snorts. “Seems perfectly reasonable.” –she says, sarcastically.

The son of Hades sighs. “It’s a whole thing. They traded in being directly worshipped for gaining sustenance through the collective subconscious of whatever the most powerful group of mortals is at the time, and I guess that’s had them move West every few centuries, so now they’re here in the good ol’ US of A. The Old Places still hold power back in Greece and Rome, but there aren’t really any remnants of the travelling Greek world anywhere else…except for the Labyrinth.” –he says, apparently apprehensive to talk about the place. “It has grown non-stop over the centuries, and now it forms a second skin of sorts, just under the surface of the planet. As I told Strange, any mortal with Clear Sight – the ability to completely see through the Mist – could guide us, even let us traverse the world in a much shorter timeframe than we could on the surface, but…well, he’s right. Clear Sighted mortals are very rare.”

“Isn’t there like…a summoning spell or something?” –Kara asks.

Nico looks at her funny. “Uh…no? What do you think this is, Skyrim?” –he asks.

“Rao, sorry, I don’t know the rules yet.” –Kara pouts, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, fair enough.” –Nico relents. “At any rate, the Labyrinth is a malicious entity, so this will be dangerous. Even with the String, it will try to harm us, to say nothing of the monsters that make it home, or the traps this Doctor Doom character might’ve prepared.” –he warns them. “Be ready for a fight. Or, y’know, a comically large boulder rolling down a comically narrow hallway, maybe – the Labyrinth has a twisted sense of humor, from what I recall. I’m gonna call a friend, see if she can point us to the maze’s nearest entry point.”

He pulls out a large, gold coin from the inner pocket of his aviator’s jacket, and mutters something about where Strange might keep a garden hose, of all things. “Entertain yourselves, I’ll be right back. And, uh…don’t touch anything unless you wanna cause an early apocalypse.”

The demigod vanishes into what appears to be living shadows, slightly reminiscent of Claire’s shadow magic back in Arcadia. “Well, this has been…a lot.” –Kara says.

Bruce snorts, shaking his head. “No kidding. I think you had it pegged when we set out – this is gonna be a very long day.” –he laments.

“Ah, take heart my friends – I, for one, am eager to tackle this intriguing maze!” –Thor grins. “I merely heard the sordid tale of the Minotaur upon my first meeting with the Olympians, but alas, the Allfather denied me a visit.”

“For good reason, apparently.” –Kara says, narrowing her eyes. “How messed up does your mythology have to get that a maze can be described as malignant?”

“Wow, you guys really don’t know much about the supernatural, huh?” –a voice hovering above them says. The newcomer sheds their invisibility and turns out to be a young woman, maybe just shy of Kara’s own age. She wears a strange, two-piece gray and black jumpsuit, baring her toned abs, and most notably of all, her hair, held back in a simple ponytail, is the color of fresh snow, while her eyes glow an eerie, unnatural green.

Kara raises an eyebrow at the floating girl. “Uh…hi? Don’t believe we’ve met.” –she snarks.

She drops to their level, still hovering, and offers Kara a gloved hand. “I’m Dani Phantom! It’s so cool to meet the Avengers, I’m a fan!” –she says. “You can call me Ellie, if you want.”

“Kara.” –she offers, shaking her hand. It feels frigid to the touch. “So, do you like, live here or something?”

Ellie shrugs. “Just moved in, I guess.” –she says. “Nico recruited me for that so-far-nameless team he’s putting together for the Doc. Not a demigod, though – I’m a ghost!”

If Bruce was pale before, he’s blanching now. Thor narrows his eyes. “Pardon me for saying, young one, but you don’t feel particularly dead.”

The self-proclaimed ghost blushes – but instead of a soft rosy tone coloring her cheeks, it’s a rather sickly green. It almost looks like whatever passes for her blood is radioactive; and not that it was a high likelihood, but Kara’s glad she doesn’t suddenly feel woozy. Whatever it is, it isn’t Kryptonite. “Well, to be fair, I’m only half ghost. Lab accident with ectoplasm – er, not important!” –she waves them off, in a nervous, hurried tone that suggests that it is, in fact, very important. Kara opts not to pry, considering just how much new info she’s already had to parse through today.

The blonde hums. “So, if you just moved in, where are you from? Some other dimension or something?”

“Nah, I’m from Minnesota.” –she shrugs. “Well, technically Wisconsin, but I barely lived there at all. I’ve been the protector of a town called Amity Park for years, fighting nasty ghosts and, uh, running from ghost hunters myself.” –she explains, a little embarrassed. “But…I guess you haven’t heard of me, huh?”

Kara winces. “Sorry, no.” –she says. Bruce and Thor similarly shake their heads, apologetically.

“Eh, it’s alright.” –she says, though she does sound a little sad. “I haven’t exactly done anything as big as stopping two alien invasions, after all.”

Clearly, the young hero could use a bit of a pick-me-up. Kara’s pretty good at those, if she can say so herself. “Well, not yet.” –she corrects. “But I hear those are becoming a bit more common nowadays, so who knows? We might be fighting alongside you on the next one.”

Ellie’s eyes widen. “Whoa...you mean that?”

Kara shrugs. “I mean, we’ve already teamed up with Spider-Man and the Alien Force; I see no reason we couldn’t fight alongside Dani Phantom someday.”

The half-ghost purses her lips. “Well, it’s just...you guys are celebrities, now. We superheroes have been around forever, sure, but...everything has changed since Tony Stark outed himself on national TV.”

“Maybe it looks that way to people, but there’s really nothing glamorous about what we do.” –Kara argues. “At the end of the day, we fight bad guys. Maybe we haven’t fought any ghosts yet, but there really isn’t a difference between what we do.”

Ellie snorts. “Well, not completely true. You guys have a budget.”

“Yeah, that’s Tony for you.” –Bruce acknowledges. “I bet he’d be happy to help you out with your, um, ghost problems, if you let him in on the details.”

The snowy-haired teen hums. “Eh, it’s fine. We’ve managed alright so far. Eight years and we’ve apparently managed to avoid everyone’s notice, occasional ghost invasion and all.”

“Eight years?” –Kara balks. “Rao, I was barely crash-landing on this planet back then. How old were you when you started?”

Ellie purses her lips. “It’s, uh...complicated. To be fair, I’ve only been at it myself for six years. I was...thirteen, I guess?”

“Jesus. That’s too young.” –Banner mutters.

“You don’t know the half of it.” –Ellie sighs. “Anyway, I’ll, uh...consider it. Amity Park is pretty well used to ghost attacks by now, but I’m sure we could use whatever Tony Stark comes up with for fighting ghosts.”

Kara crosses her arms. “How do you fight ghosts, anyway? We didn’t have those on Krypton, but from what I understand, they’re like...incorporeal, no?”

Ellie chuckles. “Well, apparently, there’s several kinds of ghosts! The ones I fight – which make Nico really mad because ‘ghosts shouldn’t fight at all, Ellie, you’re giving me a headache’ – are pretty much walking blobs of ectoplasm.” –she says, mocking Nico’s voice and letting her fist take on a glowing green glow. “So we fight with it – beams, explosive orbs, energy waves...y’know, cool anime shit.”

“You can obviously fly, too.” –Kara notes. “Do you know how fast?”

“Eh, not as fast as you, I don’t think. It’s more rapidly levitating than actually flying.” –she says, mildly embarrassed. “Last time I clocked it, I could do about 150 miles an hour.”

“Hey, nothing to scoff at.” –the blonde reassures her.

Her whole body turns invisible. “I can also disappear,” –she says, then reappears, but her frame is completely translucent, almost like she’s made of cyan-tinted flexible glass. “…turn intangible,” –she continues, then sheds the intangibility and splits in half like a cell during mitosis, becoming two Ellies. “…and make a duplicate of myself! Just the one, though.” –she admits.

Thor pokes her double...or her original? It’s hard to tell. “Corporeal clones? Hah! Loki would be jealous!”

Ellie merges back into herself, blushing green with a bit of pride. “Thanks! I can also overshadow people, sense when ghosts – or, apparently, sufficiently magical people like demigods – are around, I can lift around 10 or so tons, and heal a lot quicker than your average human.” –she lists off.

“Wow. You, uh, lucked out at the superpower lottery, huh, kid?” –Bruce raises an eyebrow.

Kara agrees – it’s an impressive array of powers, almost as flexible as Tony’s modular armors or Ben’s various alien forms. She figures it has to be, if she’s been able to fend off ghost attacks for years by herself, or at least without the assistance of other superheroes, let alone S.H.I.E.L.D. “You sure we can’t tempt you with a spot in the Avengers?” –Kara smirks. “You’re of age, right?”

“Hey, hey, no teammate stealing!” –Nico pipes up, walking up to them out of another shadow portal. There are minute water droplets all over his hair and jacket, for some reason. “Get your own half-ghost hero.”

“Can’t imagine those are in high supply, but fair enough.” –Kara says, nodding at him. “What’s the news?”

“Well, we’re in luck.” –he says, visibly relieved. “The Labyrinth all but collapsed when Daedalus died for realsies a few years back after evading death for over two-thousand years using bronze robot bodies – long story, don’t ask, Thanatos is still mad about it – and then it got zombie’d back to  some semblance of life by the sorceress Pasiphaë during the Giant War. It’s been in ruins since we defeated her, so it’s hard to find intact entry points, but there’s apparently one just two blocks south of here.”

“What’s the catch?” –Ellie asks, before Kara herself can get to it.

Nico purses his lips. “The entrance is inside the ruins of an old wizard dwelling.”

Kara shrugs. “Doesn’t sound too bad. We’ve already met one wizard today.”

“Well, you’d think so.” –Nico says. “But it’s not that simple; Strange has been teaching me about the history of the various wizarding communities – America’s was something of a failed colonization attempt, British wizards and witches attempting to set up some kind of magical USA or something. The details are hazy, but after a few tumultuous decades, the whole thing came crashing down in the 1920s. Almost everyone died, and those that didn’t fled back to Europe. Said the land was cursed, or something – though to be fair, Strange says there’s no evidence of that.”

Strange’s own circular portal opens again, and a ball of what appears to be simple red yarn shoots through it, straight at Nico. The demigod’s reflexes are way too fast for it, though, and he catches it just before it hits his face. The Sorcerer Supreme walks through the portal. “Nice reflexes.” –he says, sardonically. “What have I missed?”

“The Avengers and I met, Nico found the nearest entry point into the Labyrinth, and he was just telling us about some colonizer wizards who got McFlippin’ annihilated back to England, apparently.” –Ellie recounts. “So y’know, same old, same old.”

The Sorcerer smirks. “Of course.” –he says, turning to Nico. “Where?”

“124 Macdougal Street.” –Nico reports.

“Ah. I know the place.” –Strange mutters. “Well, I have further complications for you all; the goddess Ariadne has warned me that the String may not be 100% reliable. Since Pasiphaë’s meddling, the Labyrinth has taken on something of an undead life of its own, and its cursed magic will interfere with the String’s more than ever before. It will still guide us, but we’ll need to be extremely wary.”

Bruce frowns. “I thought the story went that Theseus used the string to mark where he’d been, not where he was going.”

“Originally, yeah. It was just a really long, really sturdy thread.” –Nico agrees, holding the crimson yarn ball. “But Ariadne’s String has become so heavily associated in the human subconscious with the very concept of finding your way through a maze that it magically gained the ability to do so. It’s a pretty powerful artifact now…not that it looks the part, I suppose.”

Strange claps, and the glass case that holds the floating cape opens, its oddly lively occupant swiftly hanging itself over the Sorcerer’s shoulders. “Well, no time like the present.” –he declares, then shouts at the ceiling. “Wong, you’re in charge till I’m back!” –he yells. Someone upstairs grumbles in response.

“Uh...shouldn’t we have a little bit more of a plan before we go?” –Kara asks.

“Even the finest crystal ball couldn’t tell us what awaits us in the bowels of Minos’ maze.” –Strange says, giving her a half shrug. “It is pointless to plan for it. But fear not – you are guests of the Sanctum, and so you are under the protection of the Sorcerer Supreme.”

124 Macdougal Street turns out to be…well, nothing much; it’s a dingy, narrow alleyway home to a couple of dumpsters and not much else. Undeterred, Strange guides them forward, up to a broken down brick wall whose only notable feature is a faded, torn poster barely hanging onto the brickwork. It’s hard to tell, but it might’ve once depicted a rather scandalously dressed woman.

“The entry mechanism is broken.” –Strange mutters, narrowing his eyes.

“What’s that mean?”

The Sorcerer Supreme hums. “Most wizarding dwellings are hidden from the prying eyes of regular mortals. Unlike groups like demigods, their larger numbers and, er…ineptitude for blending in with mortal society means the Mist is less effective at hiding them.” –he explains. “This bar used to be hidden behind this poster, but much like the bar’s owners and patrons, the magic is gone.”

Strange waves his hands, and a series of thread-like structures appear all around the dilapidated wall, almost like they’re meant to hold everything around it together. “Thor, if you would?”

“Gladly!” –he says, and tosses Mjolnir at the brick wall. The divine hammer easily punches through the wall, which comes apart in a shower of dust, debris, and faint blue sparks – the remnants, Kara assumes, of the magic that once powered the so-called entry mechanism. Fortunately, the surrounding buildings are undamaged, thanks to Strange’s magical bracers.

Mjolnir loyally returns to its master’s hand. Ellie grins like mad. “Oh, I like your style.”

“Thank you, young draugr! “ –he says. “Be on your guard, friends – I sense a foul presence ahead.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” –Strange says. He makes an orb of pure light between his palms, and tosses it inside the ruin.

‘Dilapidated’ would be a generous descriptor; there’s broken down furniture – tables, stalls, stools, and so on, as one would expect from a bar – covered in a thick layer of dust and ancient cobwebs, glass bottles with murky contents strewn about, and even some paltry, dry vegetation, like it grew in decades ago and then died off, for the most part.

Kara steps inside, leading the party. She regrets it immediately though, as she nearly steps on what can only be a desiccated human arm. “What in Rao’s name!?” –she hisses, stepping back.

Nico kneels beside her, completely unafraid of the corpse, mostly hidden beneath the remains of a table. “It’s a wizard.” –he reports, taking its non-existent pulse. “Dead for…almost a hundred years, I wanna say?”

“Sounds about right.” –Strange nods. He waves around them, and almost two dozen more bodies are magically highlighted. “I expect that every ruin that was part of the magical community will be like this.”

Bruce winces, nudging a nearby one with his foot. “But…why, though?”

“And why leave the dead where they fell? Did these people not have funerary rites?” –Thor wonders.

“They did.” –Strange says. “There just wasn’t anyone left to perform them. The American wizarding community fell apart overnight, over a hundred years ago; the few that survived fled for Europe and never looked back.”

“Nico told us that they figured this place was cursed.” –Kara recalls.

“It’s more complicated than that.” –Strange says. “The community here was…fragile. The European wizarding world is very old, tracing its roots back to cultures like Ancient Greece and the Celts, but the American wizards only came here in the mid-1600s. Much like their fellow non-magic colonizers, they were understandably met with resistance from the magic-wielders who already lived here – and after this cataclysm, the European wizards believed the Natives to have cursed them out of the land in retribution.”

Kara winces; she’s only recently started to learn the truth about the atrocities committed during the conquest of the American continent, so this isn’t exactly surprising. “So…did they?” –Kara asks.

Strange sighs. “There was certainly some conflict on the magical side of things. Blood was shed on both sides – though you’d be correct in assuming the invaders provoked the worst of it. Personally, I don’t think they were involved here. By the early twentieth century, the Native magic-wielders of America had all but sequestered themselves along with their non-magical compatriots into the territories and reservations they live in to this day.” –he explains. “I don’t know what happened here, as my predecessor did not see fit to intervene, but as you can plainly see, this was all them. Wizards killing wizards.” –he says, pointing at the corpse by her feet.

A corpse that, a mere moment later, reaches out and grabs her boot.

Kara screams, and kicks it away on reflex – it’s not like she can even feel it, but there’s something extremely unsettling about something moving that has no business doing so. Of course, given her Kryptonian strength, the mummified remains are thrown all the way across the room, crashing into the opposite wall and crumpling into a motionless pile of twisted limbs and broken bones, oozing a pitch black, oil-like substance. All around them, the other corpses rise – and unlike the zombies she’s seen in human films and games, there’s no telltale moaning, or even that typical swaying, shambling walk. They rise and walk forth with a purpose, despite their gaunt flesh and paper-thin eyelids being sealed shut, grabbing at the nearest living person.

Thor immediately brandishes his hammer, batting away a leaping corpse that nearly bursts from the overwhelming force. Nico stabs another with his blade, a wicked looking shard of black metal that glows a faint purple – the zombie he pierces seems to have some kind of energy sucked out of it by the sword before crumbling to ashes, which immediately sets Kara on edge. Ellie forms a vertical, rectangular shield out of some kind of green energy – the ectoplasm she mentioned, she’d wager – to protect Bruce, who’s trying his best not to unleash the Hulk in such a reduced space.

Doctor Strange, meanwhile, simply frowns. “Inferi?” –he wonders, his hands becoming wreathed in those mandala-like designs. “What are they doing here?

Kara holds one of the corpses at bay with one hand, unwilling to obliterate it like she accidentally did the first. It punches and scratches at her, but it’s no stronger than an average human – which is to say, it might as well not be doing anything to her. “You know these things?” –she wonders, perturbed at the grim work of dispatching these monsters going on around her.

“Indeed.” –Strange says, blasting the one she’s holding with a beam of bright yellow light. It falls to the ground, like its strings have been cut, once more resigned to the peaceful slumber of death. “They are called ‘inferi’, and they’re the telltale sign of a dark wizard’s presence.”

She frowns. An inferi jumps her, and she drives it into the brittle wooden floor, wincing as she fells the thing’s fragile chest cavity collapse under her palm even though she’s trying to hold everything back. “Doom?”

Strange shakes his head. “No. This curse predates him.” –he says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if whoever did this also caused whatever cataclysm destroyed the American wizarding community. Still, Victor probably saw them as a useful obstacle for anyone trying to pry into his business.”

He forms a large circle with the motion of his hands, and pushes it towards the ground. Once there, it expands to encompass the entire room, and whip-like energy tendrils sprout from the geometric designs and latch onto the few inferi still standing. Thor blasts lightning from his hammer at Strange’s magic, and the tendrils conduct it, reducing the living dead to oily ashes in an instant.

Bruce peeks from behind Ellie, his eyes slowly losing their perilous green hue. “Well...that was unnecessarily disturbing.” –he says.

“Apologies, Doctor.” –Strange says. “My other duties have kept me far too busy to check out what I thought was a minor, unimportant location.”

Kara sighs. “Let’s just keep going. The sooner we’re done with this, the better.”

“Agreed.” –Nico says. “Look for the Greek letter delta – that’ll be our entrance.”

Thor blinks. “And what would that look like, Son of Hades?”

“It’s a triangle.” –Ellie helpfully supplies.

Strange raises an eyebrow. “How do you not know what a delta looks like when you spoke Ancient Greek at our meeting with the Olympians?”

The God of Thunder shrugs. “I speak the All-Tongue, Sorcerer. All learned Asgardians do.” –he says. “You will hear from me whatever language you expect and understand.”

Nico frowns. “You speak Ancient Greek, Doc?”

Strange shakes his head ‘no’. “I had a translation spell going. Odd, how the magic interacted.”

“I think I found it.” –Kara calls out, kneeling behind the bar. The Greek delta is crudely etched into the wood behind where the bartender would’ve stood, as if by a knife. She reaches out and touches it, but nothing happens. Nico walks up to her, and presses on the symbol like it’s a button – and being born of magic, the way opens for him. The rotting wood panels and rusted beer taps forcibly rearrange themselves into a triangular entryway, crushing ancient bottles and shooting splinters everywhere, the magic of the Labyrinth clearly not fully compatible with the ruins of this wizard dwelling.

“This doesn’t bode well.” –Bruce points out.

And damned if Kara doesn’t agree.

Chapter Text

“So...ghosts are kind of a crapshoot.” –Ellie asks, floating at the back of the group. “What about...vampires?”

“All but extinct.” –Strange says, at the front of the group, holding the loom in front of him. The red string chases after the correct path like an excited puppy. “They were systematically exterminated throughout the centuries by monster hunters, and they practically lost the quote-unquote war when Professor Abraham Van Helsing destroyed their king in the late 1800s.”

“...wait, so Dracula was real?” –Bruce asks, baffled.

Strange hums. “Real indeed, and quite a bit more dangerous than the novel named after him would suggest. Professor Van Helsing sacrificed his life in a final confrontation with the vampire lord, however, and the others were either hunted down or killed each other in a bid for the vacant throne. There remain only a few ‘families’ hidden around the world, if you can call them that, and they are obligated to hold themselves to certain laws in order to be allowed to live in modern society. The vast majority of modern vampires primarily drink animal blood, too, so you don’t really need to worry about running into one.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “What, like in Twilight? Do they shine in the sun, too?”

Strange blinks, utterly confused. “What...is Twilight?”

The son of Hades snorts. “Bet no one’s ever asked that question in the Minotaur’s Labyrinth before.”

Kara steps over the legs of an ancient human skeleton, randomly shackled to a nearby wall. “Speaking of Twilight, what about werewolves?”

“Depends what kind of werewolf you’re asking about.” –Strange says. “For some, lycanthropy is a curse. For others, perhaps a blessing. Werewolves are quite a bit more varied than the stories would have you believe.”

“But are they hot?” –Ellie asks with a cheeky grin.

Strange shrugs. “I believe their body temperature is significantly higher than a human’s, yes.”

“No, I meant-” –she begins, then sees the smirk on the Sorcerer’s face. The half-ghost narrows her eyes. “Oh, wow, you do have a sense of humor. Could’ve fooled me.”

“And me.” –Nico adds.

Kara has to agree with the teens. Strange rolls his eyes. “Regardless, werewolves are among the more common monster archetypes, and perhaps the most difficult to keep track of, considering their many types and the fact that they are only arguably a danger to society during a full moon.”

“So vampires, werewolves, and zombies.” –Kara lists off. “Three for three on the monster archetype list.”

“Those weren’t zombies we faced back there. As I told you, they were inferi.” –Strange reminds her. “Zombies are actively controlled by a necromancer, inferi are left with instructions. Besides, there are no zombies anymore – they were outlawed decades ago.”

Ellie hums. “I did notice they were pretty distinctly not, y’know, rotting and stuff.”

Strange rolls his eyes. “You’re thinking of Romero zombies, from movies and TV shows. Real zombies don’t rot. They’re not contagious, and they don’t moan or seek to eat brains – unless, of course, they are commanded to. You could even hold a conversation with one, if you wanted to. The soul is held hostage by a necromancer, their minds controlled to do the dark mage’s bidding. An inferius, on the other hand, is nothing but a corpse enchanted to perform a task – little more than a macabre, fleshy marionette. There is no life in their bodies, no force of will but that of their master.”

“Am I the only one who thinks it’s kind of bizarre that there’s some sort of magic bureaucracy that can outlaw zombies?” –Bruce asks.

“There are several governing bodies for the various branches of magic on Earth.” –Strange says. “Some are akin to mortal governments, such as the International Confederation of Wizards. Others, like the Olympian gods and the magical laws that bind them and their world, are a bit more...esoteric. But they all work in concert to ensure a tentative peace between each other, and between the mundane and magical worlds.”

Kara steps on a loose tile, and the stone ceiling suddenly drops. She catches it easily, though, before anyone can get crushed. “...all things considered, your world seems kinda deadly.” –she notes, lifting it higher so everyone can continue without having to hunch over.

“No more dangerous than yours, Supergirl.” –Nico counters. “Ours is just a little more overt about it.”

The team continues on in silence, Kara holding the ceiling aloft as she goes on, leaving vaguely hand-shaped imprints in the stone, until they reach a columned archway, leading into a sort of rotunda, empty save for what seems to be a few hundred Greek jars. Once everyone walks in and she lets the ceiling go, Kara picks the nearest one up, adorned with those distinctive Ancient Greek stylized figures.

Pretty quickly, though, she realizes that it doesn’t depict some ancient myth or hero; the small man on her jar is dressed rather conservatively for Ancient Greece, and moreover, he doesn’t remain small for long – Kara watches in quiet awe as he is exposed to gamma radiation, and becomes a musclebound monster, feared and hunted by men with assault rifles.

Simply put, this jar depicts the story of Bruce and the Hulk.

She drops it, and it shatters. “Kara? You alright?” –Bruce asks, raising an eyebrow.

“What in Hades...?” –Nico mutters, before she can answer. “Thor, isn’t this you?”

The demigod holds up another amphora, which does indeed depict the Norse God – his miniature self holds the distinctive hammer aloft, calling thunder and lightning to him as he strikes a series of giant, bare-chested humanoids adorned with red eyes, long beards, and pointed ears.

Thor frowns as he sees the jar. “Aye, it is. My rampage on Jotunheim – the crime I was exiled to Midgard for. Not a moment I’m proud of, and certainly not one I’d want immortalized as such.”

Doctor Strange scowls. “We need to keep going. Every minute in this place gives the Labyrinth more of a chance to figure out how to kill us.”

“You realize this is kind of bizarrely specific, though.” –Ellie points out.

“This room likely draws upon our memories to torment us.” –Strange surmises. “Fortunately, and as Kara has already proven, these jars are eminently breakable.”

The Sorcerer Supreme claps his hands, and then projects a sonic wave that shatters every jar in the place. He then sweeps his arm as he turns in place, and the shards become nothing but sand. Strange looks smug, like he’s got one over the maze, but the sand then shifts and runs up the walls of the rotunda, painting a sort of glowing, golden mural on the off-white marble walls. Kara looks on in distress as Strange crashes his car and destroys his hands, Ellie steps off some kind of futuristic pod and begins to melt down into ectoplasm, and Nico looks on as a bronze giant collapses and kills a young woman that looks like him.

Her distress turns to outright panic as the mural shifts to depict her, twelve years old and running through the ruins of Argo City, dead and dying Kryptonians lying by her feet, her homeworld collapsing in on itself. “Oh, Rao.” –she mutters, dread filling her core. She blasts her heat vision at the walls, but this only succeeds in carving grooves into the stone underneath, the golden sand swiftly reforming and continuing the story, her younger self bawling as her mother forces her into the tiny shuttle that saved her life, and only hers.

“Kara.” –Strange says, softly. She turns to him, her eyes glowing in fury and sadness still. “We are not trapped in this room. We can leave at any time.”

She blinks the heat out of her eyes as he points out the exit. “R-right.”

Thor offers her a sympathetic shoulder pat as they exit the room, Krypton exploding once more behind her.

The next few rooms are largely uneventful; the first is rather silly, set up like an art gallery and containing about two dozen famous Ancient Greek sculptures, perfect copies of the originals but complete and colored like they would’ve been in ancient times. Ellie blushes green at most of them – they’re almost all naked and rather explicitly detailed, after all – which Nico teases her about.

The second room is the largest yet, and seems to contain an honest-to-goodness battlefield; skeletons of two different factions – Spartans and Athenians, according to Nico – in rusted out armors completely cover the floor of the room. Strange says that the remains are genuine, which means that, somehow, a skirmish from the Peloponnesian War made its way into the bowels of the Labyrinth of Daedalus, which in turn transplanted itself under America.

The implications are fascinating, but it’s not super fun to hear the ancient, brittle bones splintering with Thor’s every step. She floats through the whole room, thank you very much.

Room number three is a much smaller arena, which Nico actually seems to recognize; he says some guy named Antaeus held gladiatorial competitions here once, pitting monsters and demigods against each other in fights to the death. Nico himself never participated, but one of his friends did, and ended up killing the monster that hosted the competitions. It’s clearly been abandoned for some time, but skulls and bones from former competitors, human and otherwise, still litter the place.

No more dangerous than yours, Supergirl, Nico said. Right.

Eventually, they make it to a room that resembles an old Greek temple, columns and all. The place is already occupied – and judging by Nico and Strange’s tense stances, they probably won’t be too friendly.

To Kara, they look like normal humans; six of them look kinda like teenagers with cruel smiles, and another, a freakishly tall woman with a harsh, stony facade, seems to lead them. “The kids are storm spirits.” –Nico mutters. “And that’s a Manticore, I think.”

“Excellent assessment, Son of Hades.” –the alleged Manticore compliments.

“You realize you stand no chance against us.” –Strange claims.

“Mmm. A foreign god, a son of Hades, and the so-called Sorcerer Supreme himself.” –the woman recounts. “I can’t imagine we’ll last too long, no. But we don’t need to.” –she says, and much like Bruce’s transformation into the Hulk, she bursts out of her skin and becomes a monster with the face of the woman, the body of a lion, and a massive scorpion’s tail with multiple barbed stingers. She is easily twice as large as a normal lion. “We just need to buy some time for the boss.” –she growls.

Beside her, the teenagers also shed their human forms, becoming miniature storm cells that kick up the stale air in the room into gale force winds. Thor laughs in derision, holding Mjolnir up and countering with his own storm powers – though this only succeeds in making the winds all the more chaotic. The Manticore charges, roaring as she closes the distance; Kara rushes forward to meet her halfway, dodging a swipe of her fearsome claws and delivering a punch that would easily kill a man. However, the Manticore is largely unfazed – it’s the strangest thing, but it looks as if her jaw breaks, then instantly mends itself. It bats her away with her freaky scorpion tail, then launches a few barbs at her for good measure.

Kara almost rolls her eyes – she’s bulletproof, after all, what good could some fancy quills do against her? – but then the tips actually bury themselves into her skin. The shock wears off quickly, as the venom inside them courses through her bloodstream and sends her entire nervous system into overdrive, pain shooting through her whole body. The Manticore prepares to pounce on her, but Ellie swoops in, delivering an ectoplasm-charged punch and sending the monster hurtling away. The half-ghost then touches Kara and turns them both intangible, the barbs falling off her body and the venom ceasing its effect.

“Damn it...” –Kara pants. “What the hell just happened?”

“Well, you just kinda...stood there and took it, Supergirl.” –Ellie says, evidently confused.

“How did those things break my skin?” –she wonders, inspecting the small holes in her costume, the wounds beneath already sealed back up. “I’m not feeling woozy, so it can’t be Kryptonite...”

Ellie hums. “Well...maybe it’s like ghosts and electricity.” –she suggests. “Ghosts are immune to pretty much everything that isn’t ectoplasm-based, but strong electric currents will hurt a ghost, even if there’s no ectoplasm involved. Maybe your powers don’t work so well against magical creatures?”

Kara scowls. “Kinda wish I’d known that before I descended into a mythical maze filled with magic crap.” –she says, though on further reflection, she should’ve known; after all, Victor was able to effortlessly paralyze her with a spell that, according to Strange, was ‘the simplest of curses’. He spelled it out for her back during the all-hands meeting, honestly – she was just so eager to get the bastard that she completely blanked on her newfound weakness.

She does that a lot, doesn’t she? Charging in headfirst without much thought as to her next move, or the capabilities of her foes? She should probably stop doing it.

A bunch of barbs whistle her way once again, bringing her out of her reverie, but this time, Strange places a barrier in front of her that stops them. “Focus, Supergirl.” –he chides. “Raw strength will not kill these monsters, but creatures of magic are typically vulnerable to focused energy. Your strange eye lasers may suffice.”

The Sorcerer Supreme creates a shimmering blue circle of frost with his hands, and launches it at a nearby storm spirit; the circle washes over the monster, and it instantly becomes a lifeless pile of light, fluffy snow. Thor blasts powerful lightning from Mjolnir at a trio of storm spirits, but this only seems to make them angrier and stronger, so he instead absorbs lightning from them, and they’re reduced to nebulous, silver clouds, which seem to dissipate moments later. Nico fires at the Manticore with ethereal purple flames from the palm of his hand, but the chimeric monster shrugs it off with only minor burns, lunging at the demigod, who expertly dodges out of the way and even nicks the side of the Manticore with his cursed blade.

Kara sees her opening, and dives in, this time with a plan; the Manticore is clearly agonizing from the cursed cut on her side, so she doesn’t see Supergirl come from behind and grab her arachnid tail, careful to keep the barbs facing away from her body. The monster roars, trying to claw at her, but she easily keeps out of harm’s way, floating and lifting the Manticore so she’s helpless. She then blasts her heat vision at the base of the segmented tail, and though there’s definitely some resistance, and the Manticore thrashes desperately, the horrible limb is severed, sending the monster plummeting to the ground.

Nico gestures for her to hand the tail over; she raises an eyebrow but does as she’s asked. The demigod then takes the appendage and leaps on top of the dazed Manticore, stabbing it’s multi-pronged tip into the back of her mane-covered neck. The hisses and yowls of pain are, to be honest, kinda disturbing – a mix of human anguish and animal agony. But the monster is paralyzed, and Nico fearlessly kneels by her head as the last of the storm spirits are vaporized by Ellie’s ecto-rays and portalled out of the battlefield by Strange, respectively.

“...well, you guys did great.” –Bruce compliments, hiding behind a nearby column. “10/10, top marks for everyone.”

Kara shoots him a smirk as Nico levels his blade at the monster. “So, what do you think? Did you buy enough time for your masters?”

The Manticore shoots him a death glare, but doesn’t answer. “‘Masters’, so...more than one.” –Kara surmises. “Who do you work for? Doctor Doom? Who else?”

“I think she works for them.” –Strange mutters, looking ahead.

Kara follows his gaze, and she can almost hear boss music from one of Winn’s games starting to play in her head. At the exit of this temple-like locale, a large group has assembled; by Kara’s count, two dozen men and women in light, white robes with pharaoh-like masks wielding strange white staves, short wand-like instruments, and curved bronze swords.

But it’s their apparent leaders, standing in front of the small army, that she’s most concerned with; one is a woman that constantly shifts between three distinct appearances; a young, pale girl no more than ten years old with pitch-black hair and purple eyes, dressed in a simple white chiton with violet accents, a beautiful woman in her mid-thirties with dark skin, lush wine-tinted robes, curly, chocolate-colored hair, and toxic green eyes, and finally, an old, hunched crone, older than 70, with strange, transparent skin, faint wisps of white hair, a black shawl-like garment, and burning orange irises. All three of the female forms hold torches in each hand, and they’re accompanied by a large she-dog and a polecat at either side of her. An intense aura of eerie green light and ethereal shadows constantly surrounds their body, too.

And then there’s the tan, almost bronze-skinned man; he stands tall, about as tall as Thor and equally as chiseled, his bearded face like a solid, unforgiving sheet of stone. His curly, raven-black hair is close-cropped, reminiscent of the hairstyle on the marble busts of Roman emperors. He wears purple robes under a full set of Ancient Roman armor, sans the cape and helmet – and instead of a sword or shield, he wields a massive, wooden club with a leather handgrip, studded in bronze. The man oozes strength, in a way that seems to give even the mighty Thor pause.

Honestly, in a way that gives her pause.

The Manticore hisses a pained laugh as they take in their new foes, so Nico drives his sword into her chest. The monster is drained of all life, and crumbles into faded, golden dust. Still, the demigod looks, for the first time in this adventure, like he’s afraid.

“Who are they?” –she asks, readying herself for a fight.

“Hecate, Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, Necromancy, and Ghosts; Queen of Witches, and Keeper of the Mist.” –Strange replies, almost like a hymn, nodding at the shape-shifting woman. “And...” –he trails off.

Nico rises, his blade held nervously before him. “...and – Styx, I can’t believe it.” –he curses, shaking his head, far-off thunder betraying the power of their new foes. “That, Supergirl, is the greatest demigod of all time: Hercules.”

Chapter Text

Despite her solar-powered abilities, and her diminished need for sleep, Kara Zor-El could never be accused of being a morning person.

The light of Sol filters in through her bedroom window, waking her against her will. There’s something of a tingling in her core, photons filtering in through her otherwise impregnable skin and kick-starting the biological processes that make her the strongest woman on Earth. She opens her eyes, the sun’s rays trying and failing to burn the fiery orb into her retinas, and sighs – half in resentment at waking up so early, half in contentment at the life she’s managed to carve out in this foreign world.

“Hey, you.” –Lena says, somewhere behind her. “Welcome back to the world of the living.”

Kara turns, a pleasant warmth coloring her ears and cheeks as she drinks in the beauty of her wife. Lena’s sat on an armchair, clad only in her thin, gossamer night robe, the sunlight in the room hinting at the curves beneath. She’s drinking tea and reading a book she can’t make the title of without her glasses, adorned with strange, eye-like designs on its cover.

The blonde hums, turning in bed. “Ugh...I wouldn’t say no to five more minutes in dreamland, to be honest.” –she grouses. “How’d you sleep?”

“Well enough, considering I spent half the night editing that post-mortem on OsCorp’s failed attempt at superhuman enhancement.” –she shrugs. “I still cannot believe the crap Norman tried to pull.”

Kara barely recalls the nonsense Osborn and his inner circle tried to pull, stopped by her fellow heroes right in its tracks before it could get any innocents hurt. “That doesn’t sound too fun.”

Lena nods. “Mmm. I do so love filing paperwork, but...not for something like this, no. I’m only glad we stopped this Centipede business before they ever tested their serum on humans.”

A chime from the roof draws her attention. “Kara Zor-El, you have a diplomatic meeting in approximately fifty-seven Earth minutes. It is recommended you begin preparations for the day as soon as possible.” –a monotone voice drones in Kryptonian.

Kara groans. “Thanks, Kelex.” –she replies, rather insincere.

Lena raises an eyebrow. “I think I got...eighty percent of that, maybe?”

“Hey, I’ve had a translator for eight years and I still mess up English every now and then.” –Kara shrugs. “Eighty percent for a language no one else on this planet speaks is pretty dang phenomenal.”

“Still, not good enough for me.” –Lena grumbles. “I’ll never live down barely managing to stumble through our wedding vows after trying to memorize them for weeks.”

Kara coos. “Aww, it was just nerves, love.”

Lena puts down her book for the moment. “A Luthor? Nervous? Never.” –she says, leaning forward. Kara blushes, the thin robe hiding exactly none of her wife’s gorgeous body. “Now, shall I help you get ready, or must I summon one of Kelex’s little drones to zap you out of bed?”

The Girl of Steel floats out of bed, sufficiently chided. She kisses Lena, morning breath complaints and all, and heads off to grab a shower, half hoping that her wife will join her. She doesn’t, likely too enthused by the novel, so Kara instead focuses on the water’s inviting warmth – almost too hot for human skin, but merely a cozy boon for her superhuman physiology. The past week has been rather intense; between her duties as Krypton’s ambassador to Earth, and as a member of the Avengers, she’s barely had a moment to herself, to the point that she’s just now noticing a strange ache on her chest – probably a lingering blow from the last training match she had against Hulk and Thor.

It’s...odd. A stinging sensation, like she’s been freshly punched by a sufficiently powerful individual even though the latest blow she sustained in the area would’ve happened two days ago. It’s right under where the symbol of her House would go, too; a quick examination shows no sign of injury on her torso, aside from that scar by her belly button she...can’t quite recall getting.

A shiver runs through her spine. For some reason, and just for a moment, the whole bathroom smells overwhelmingly like blood. She shakes her head, as the sensation vanishes as quickly as it appeared; she hasn’t bled at all since she stepped foot on Earth.

The rest of the shower goes on normally, and she gets dressed for the day, picking a rich, red and black Kryptonian robe adorned with metal bands on her shoulders and along her arms. A silver circlet around her forehead completes the look, inspired by uncle Jor-El’s usual. She checks her phone to find a photo from aunt Lara of her young cousin Kal-El, wide-grinned and missing a front tooth. She smiles, fondly – and for some reason, wistfully – before heading downstairs to grab a bite and start the day.

One of Kelex’s hovering robot servitors hands her a tray with orange juice, coffee, assorted chopped fruits, and a huge croissant filled with bacon, egg, and cheese. She floats over to the terrace outside, where Lena’s already having her own – much leaner – breakfast. Her wife has donned a comfortable outfit, not expected to head into the office in the immediate aftermath of the Avengers’ mission at OsCorp, the Department of Damage Control crews still hard at work at clearing the rubble and securing any contaminants. She’s put down the novel for now, staring up at the sky above New York in well-worn disbelief.

“Still not used to it, huh?” –Kara prompts, sitting down at the outdoor table.

Lena hums, her eyes locked with the planet Krypton, dominating the horizon – the same distance away as the Moon but looking about five and a half times as large. “I know, it’s been years; I’m sure children in a generation will feel nothing strange about our solar system’s ninth planet.” –she muses. “But having grown up with only the Moon for company...well, having a sister world will take some getting used to still.”

“Tenth planet.” –Kara corrects, reflexively.

“Ninth. Pluto’s a dwarf planet, love.” –Lena reminds her. “It no longer counts.”

Kara crosses her arms. “Pluto meets the Kryptonian definition of a planet.” –she pouts.

“All well and good, but do recall you’re in our solar system now, my dear.”

The blonde sighs into her orange juice. “Boy, are we ever.” –she agrees. “I can’t even imagine what humanity’s first thoughts were when a planet half again as large as Earth suddenly popped into existence just two-hundred thousand miles away.”

“Panic, for the most part. You would not believe how many people claimed that Planet X was finally going to crash with the Earth.” –Lena says, deadpan. “Then confusion, as it became obvious the orbits in our solar system somehow weren’t being affected by a whole damn extra planet.”

“That’s what happens when you turn an entire interstellar empire’s economy into a new, artificial planet, a gravity manipulation engine, and a spatial translocation system in a desperate attempt to avoid extinction.” –Kara shrugs.

Lena tilts her head. “Well, it certainly worked. And I know more than a few vocal individuals aren’t entirely comfortable with the idea of sharing a solar system with your people, your father-in-law among them, but...” –she says, examining her wedding ring, a polished green stone on a simple silver band that suddenly makes Kara woozy, for no real reason she can identify. “Well, I’m not complaining.”

“I’d hope not.” –Kara says, sticking her tongue out and digging into her breakfast.

Half an hour of food and small talk later, Kara rises and heads back inside – giving the soft green glow of her homeworld’s atmosphere a last glance with a sense of rather unbidden melancholy, considering she can book a shuttle back to Krypton without too much issue these days. She’s hosting a diplomat at her home in just a few minutes, so she double checks for stray crumbs, brushes her teeth, and heads back out to await them.

“Kelex, who am I talking to again?” –she asks, checking her tablet for any relevant info.

“Apologies, Kara Zor-El. I have no data on your guest.”

Kara’s eyebrow raises. “Uh...how is that even possible? You’re hooked up to my office’s database.”

“Your schedule may have been tampered with; the information on this meeting seems to have been deleted.” –Kelex reports. “There is no record of any modifications, however.”

The Kryptonian winces as a sharp stabbing pain manifests under the scar in her abdomen.  She tries her best to ignore it, browsing through her tablet in an increasingly anxious attempt to find out who she’s supposed to meet. It’s strange; she’s usually fairly confident about meeting with people, even if she’s done little-to-no prep – a necessary skill when she might be fighting a supervillain one moment and talking to a delegate the next. For no real reason she can discern, this encounter is filling her with dread.

She shakes her head, trying to clear her mind. “It’s fine, Kelex. Just let him in so I can get it over with.”

...strange. Kelex didn’t tell her the diplomat had arrived, let alone their gender. Sure enough, though, the doors open, and a sharply dressed tall man steps inside – maybe ten or fifteen years older than her, his wavy hair a shade of brown so dark that it’s almost black, similar to his strangely unnerving eyes. His face is...familiar, but she can’t quite place it. He wears a pristine business suit adorned with a circular lapel pin featuring an emblem in green, red, and black of what looks like a small isosceles triangle squeezed in between a couple of lightning bolt-like shapes facing each other. The symbol looks to her like some sort of strange, angry mask.

“Good morning.” –she says, offering her hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met – Kara Zor-El, Kryptonian Ambassador to Earth.”

“Oh, we’ve met, in a fashion.” –the man says, shaking her hand nonetheless. “But I can’t exactly blame you for not recognizing me.”

Kara tilts her head. “How so?”

He shrugs. “He created this form so we’d be able to hold a civilized conversation.” –he says. “Subconscious to subconscious.”

The man turns away from her, and walks towards the windows. For no reason she can discern, his steps sound heavy and metallic. “Fascinating reality you’ve built for yourself.” –he says, his tone approaching praise as he stares up at Krypton. “A picture-perfect fusion of everything you hold dear; the woman you love, the home and family you lost, and of course, your work as Supergirl. I almost envy you.”

“What are you talking about?” –she demands. “Who are you?”

He scoffs. “Please. You already know, Kryptonian.” –he retorts, turning back to her. “But I suppose a sort of denial borne of trauma shrouds your eyes.”

The man doesn’t transform, but just for one second, they’re somewhere else entirely – an ancient looking underground stone dwelling filled with computer equipment and other such strange machines hooked up to a somewhat opaque sarcophagus, occupied by a tall figure. Beside it, and behind the ‘diplomat’, stands another figure, which barely turns to acknowledge her before returning his attention to the monitors.

Kara pales; she recognizes, of course, the armored man in the cruel mask and rich green robes. “You stand before Victor von Doom, King of Latveria.” –the man says, his horrid alter ego vanishing from view. “But that is him, and this is us. I am simply Victor – and we have much to discuss, Kara Zor-El.”

While the Labyrinth survived the death of its creator, and a subsequent attempt at resurrection, Nico’s not entirely sure it’ll survive the mythical brawl unfolding around them.

It happened way too damn fast; before Dr. Banner could even begin to transform, a figure clad in silver armor and green robes burst forth from beneath the ground, intangible like Ellie and carrying some kind of horrible alien plant; he attached it to Kara’s chest, which immediately rendered her unconscious somehow, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and took her with him back down through the stone floor.

Hercules wasted no time, charging forth even as Kara was forcibly phased into the floor, attempting to smash Doctor Strange into paste, but the Hulk’s gigantic arm caught the mace mid-swing, knocking all of them but the Norse god and the emerald giant back from the sheer pressure released. All hell broke loose after that; the masked magic users ran at them, wands, curved swords, and staves at the ready, and Hecate began to charge some sort of spell, forcing the heroes to defend themselves.

“This is nuts!” –Ellie shouts, barely turning intangible in time to avoid a chunk from a marble pillar, launched by the Roman god. She blasts an ecto-ray back at him, but one of the masked men hisses a word Nico can’t parse at this distance, and a clear barrier suddenly blocks the searing beam, the energy flaring out and coloring the room neon green.

Between the mortuary masks and the fact that their magic makes his blood boil, he’s pretty sure these are Egyptian magicians, like the Kane siblings. Nico doesn’t know a lot about them, even having met the Kanes and Anubis’ host; he knows they fight using some form of spoken magic, but that it’s fairly limited without them becoming hosts to one of the Egyptian gods, as they use their own life force to fuel the magic otherwise. Hercules smashes through his own ally’s barrier, barreling towards them, but Thor lands in his path, bringing down his divine hammer upon the Roman god’s head.

Nico’s no expert on Norse mythology, but he’s pretty sure no one should be able to shrug off a blow from Thor’s mighty weapon with only a grunt and a stumble.

Undeterred, Thor blasts the former demigod with lightning, but the son of Jupiter, while unable to control electricity himself, appears largely immune to the current; he takes it in stride, surging through the wildly flaring arcs and grabbing the Norse god’s neck, lifting him up and driving him halfway into the ground, no intangibility required.

Hulk picks up the slack, tackling Hercules and driving him through several pillars as Thor recovers, shaking the bits of marble from his golden locks, looking excited about duking it out with this particular foe. One of the magicians shouts: “A’max!”, and a torrent of flame bursts from the mouth of her mask, seeking to envelop the god in magical flame. Strange is quicker on the draw, though, transmuting a block of marble above the pair into water and letting it fall atop the flames, dousing them on the spot.

Thor looks a bit annoyed by the help, now dripping wet – he probably could’ve shrugged off the fire, after all. He nonchalantly throws his hammer, and Nico winces as it hits the magician’s chest dead center and her sternum audibly fractures – she won’t die from it, he’s pretty sure, but that’s a hell of an injury to recover from.

Another of the magicians pipes up. “Ha-di!” –he barks, looking at him. His blood boils, like full-body heartburn, warning him of the power snaking its way to him, so he dives out of the way, the spell exploding the stone behind him and pelting him with heated fragments. The magician prepares to shout again, but he suddenly sinks through the floor up to his mouth, courtesy of Ellie, who then splits in half and sends a couple of his fellow magic wielders flying with quick, superhuman punches.

Nico rushes to join her, but he glances at Hercules grabbing the Hulk’s massive foot and using the jade giant’s whole body to try and crush him; he tries to throw himself backwards, but Strange manages to put up a large, mandala-like shield atop him, which the Hulk is slammed against. Hulk roars, slapping Hercules away like he’s a particularly annoying fly and using Strange’s shield as platform to jump from, slamming his fists down on Hercules’ chest just after he lands.

The whole Labyrinth seems to groan from the impact, dust and stone fragments exploding from the newly formed crater and falling from the ceiling. Concerningly, the walls separating the rooms and passageways around this temple-like structure begin to crumble, even partially collapsing in places – and Nico can feel as the magic within them starts to become erratic. Hercules, however, seems to take it in stride; he laughs, somewhere between joyful and cruel, and easily kicks the Hulk off of him. “Don’t disappoint me now, mortal.” –he says, dusting off his armor. “I hear your strength has no limits! The same has been said of my own; shall we prove the myths right?”

Hulk rises again – and to Nico, he looks even bigger and angrier than he did before. He takes a deep breath, and claps his hands.

Now, Nico’s been in the presence of many gods and other such powerful creatures, but in his experience, it’s very rare that any of them ever fight on a level beyond what mortals can reasonably achieve; there’s exceptions, of course, such as their battle with Typhon during the modern Titanomachy, but the gods seem to prefer keeping it relatively low-key. The Hulk has no such self-imposed restraint; when his hands make contact, a pressure wave goes off like a gods-damned bomb, shattering support columns and walls alike, and blowing the closest Magicians away before they can protect each other.

The same fate almost befalls them, but Ellie manages to turn him and Strange intangible in time, letting the force and debris pass through them unharmed, while the Sorcerer Supreme motions with his hands at the crumbling ceiling, which becomes reinforced by amber magic like he used at the entrance to the Blind Pig.

Ellie shakes her head, the intangibility wearing off. “Man, I think he’s gonna kill us before he kills Herc.” –she mutters.

“Hercules is immortal, so you’re objectively correct.” –Nico concedes the point.

As if to prove his point, Hercules laughs off a few hits from the emerald berserker, each powerful enough to shake the room. “I’m more concerned about New York above.” –Strange admits, blasting a couple of amber bolts from his hands that force a handful of magicians to summon those clear shields of theirs. Thor, out of nowhere, lands in their midst, lightning falling all around him, instantly downing two magic wielders and forcing the others to dive for cover – and out of reach of Mjolnir. Strange sighs at the violence. “The bones of the Labyrinth may be stronger than most any man-made structure, but even Daedalus’ marvelous engineering has its limits.”

Ellie snorts. “Do you always talk like you’re in a fantasy novel?”

The largest of the magicians suddenly appears out of thin air right in front of them, yelling “Sun-ah!”, then raising his curved blade at them. Nico manages to deflect the strike and its follow-up, then jabs quickly at the man’s mask with his sword’s pommel, which breaks it and sends him stumbling back. Bitter, he prepares to end the man’s life with a thrust at his gut, but he grins a bloody smirk. “Heh-sieh!” –he hisses, and Nico finds his sword pulled forward and then making a U-turn, headed straight at Ellie. The half-ghost heroine gasps, trying to turn intangible in time, but Nico can tell she won’t succeed; fortunately, a small portal opens and the Stygian Iron sword goes through...

...straight into Hercules’ back.

The god howls in pain, and Nico instinctively pulls the blade away as the portal closes. The golden ichor coating half the sword is consumed quickly – Nico can almost feel his weapon’s ravenous hunger for more. The momentary lull in the action doesn’t last long; Hercules turns towards him, enraged, and all but bitch-slaps the Hulk away.

“Oh, Styx.” –Nico swears, as the son of Jupiter charges. He prepares to dodge, but Strange opens a portal just in time, just in front of him and behind him, so Hercules passes like a speeding freight train, tackling the bulky magician that caused all this and sending him flying with a sickening crunch.

Hercules turns and tries to bring down his mace in an overhead arc, but Mjolnir comes in and sweeps him off his feet, just enough that Nico avoids imminent death yet again. “Oh, he’s pissed at you.” –Ellie smirks. As if to illustrate her point, Hercules gets tackled by the Hulk as he glares at Nico – the Roman god manages to toss Hulk away, trying to single-mindedly charge at him again. Ellie grabs him by the neck of his cuirass and flies him up with ease, which prompts Hercules to leap and try to grab them, only for Ellie to turn them intangible and let the former demigod pass through and into Thor’s awaiting hammer swing.

Nico takes a hand to his chest as his heart beats a mile a minute. “You say that like it’s a good thing to have a god wanting to kill you.” –he grouses, as Ellie lets him back down on the ground.

“It might just be.” –Strange says, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course it is! Look at him, he’s like a bull!” –Ellie says, nodding at Hercules, who barely fends off a couple of hammer swings from Thor before setting his rage-filled, bloodshot eyes on Nico again.

“I don’t particularly feel like playing the part of a bright red cape.” –Nico says, sarcastically.

“You may not have to do it for much longer.” –Strange tells him. He blasts a purple bolt at an approaching magician, and her staff suddenly becomes too heavy to lift, pulling her down to the ground and trapping her hands underneath. “Keep him busy, and I’ll prepare the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak.”

This one Nico does know about, from what little he’s studied of Strange’s brand of magic. Ellie doesn’t, so she snorts. “Your magic has such goofy names, Doc.”

“It does.” –Nico agrees. The spells sound like off-brand Magic or Yu-Gi-Oh! cards to him. “But I get where he’s going with it – the Bands are a restraint so powerful that even a god would be unable to escape them, at least for a while.”

Strange forms a bubble of interlacing concentric circles around him, sitting cross-legged in mid-air as he prepares to cast the powerful spell. “How many pharaoh dudes do we have left?” –Ellie asks.

“Five.” –Nico says, his battlefield awareness as sharp as ever. Then, one of the magicians attempts to stab the Hulk with one of those curved bronze blades, failing to even scratch the giant’s skin, and gets flicked by the annoyed superhero across the ruined room for his trouble. “...make that four.” –he says, darkly amused.

Ellie splits herself into two clones again. “Not sure how long we’ll be able to hold them off by ourselves.” –she warns Nico.

“Don’t worry. There are many benefits to being the Prince of the Underworld.” –he says, as lightning flares between Thor and Hercules, their respective weapons clashing. He thrusts his blade into the cracks between the marble, the white in his eyes turning black and his irises glowing purple. Skeletal hands burst through the soil, bones knitted together by dark, necromantic energy, and a dozen skeleton warriors in armor from various eras and cultures climb out of the temporary link between the Underworld and Daedalus’ Labyrinth. Two dozen empty eye sockets stare at him, expectantly. “I think we can stick it out for a while.”

“What the hell did you do?” –Kara grinds out, her eyes gaining the inner glow of her heat vision.

“So you do acknowledge reality.” –Victor reposes, with the tone of a scientist jotting down notes on bacteria observed through the microscope. “We were beginning to doubt it.”

Kara narrows her eyes, holding her temples. Her mind is split in twain at the moment, scenes from two very different lives alternately flashing before her eyes, each so real she can’t discern if they actually happened or not, but so different that some must be fake – thrown from kissing her wife at the altar to getting slapped by Lena in a college dorm room, from that first wondrous flight from Krypton to Earth to looking back as her homeworld dies a fiery, explosive death.

She does know something for sure, however: Victor von Doom is her enemy, whatever he chooses to look like. “Doctor Doom.” –she spits out. “I...I remember you.”

“I see he’s already earned the name. Much faster than usual, as expected of this particular iteration.” –he says, raising an eyebrow. “The moniker is misaimed, however. I am not nearly all that is Victor von Doom; the man you’ve met is rather busy at the moment; as a distilled mental construct of his knowledge and personality, as he was before ever donning the mask, I am to entertain you for a time. As I said, there’s much to discuss – I’m sure you’ll find me much more personable than the real person.”

A nearby glass pane cracks, and hairline fractures trace themselves all over her ceiling – all around Victor, in particular. “What are you doing?” –Kara demands.

Victor shrugs. “Testing the strength of this simulacrum. We’ve never seen its like before: a perfect mental simulation of a person’s idealized version of reality, without the need for any technological, magical, or psychic means to project it. This is biochemistry, pure and simple.” –he explains. He walks up to her, and takes the tablet she hadn’t noticed she’d dropped between his hands, examining it like a jeweler might a gemstone. “Perfectly solid. Remarkable.”

“Quit it with the damn cryptic stuff.” –Kara says, morose. “What are you saying? What do you want?”

“I’m saying this isn’t your reality, Kara Zor-El.” –he says, walking up to the cracked window and staring up at Krypton. “In more ways than one, at that. But let’s focus on the immediate.” –he says, pointing at her chest.

Kara gasps, as her torso is suddenly wrapped in what she can only describe as a mutant, tentacled rose bush, black and purple in color, its thorny vines encircling her chest, neck, and arms. “This is...” –she says, some semblance of recognition trying to put the word on the tip of her tongue. “It’s...”

“A Black Mercy, yes.” –Victor nods. “Krypton’s preferred method of executing its most heinous criminals. I’m not surprised you remember it: your aunt and uncle were offered this sentence for their crimes, but refused it in favor of eternal imprisonment in the Phantom Zone.”

The blonde is barely listening to him; she grabs and tries to pry the Black Mercy off, but a piercing pain in her chest almost makes her black out on the spot. “That would be ill-advised.” –Victor warns. “Forcibly removing a Black Mercy, physically or mentally, will kill its host on the spot – no matter how bulletproof she might otherwise be.”

Reluctantly, Kara lets the plant go – this fact, she does remember. “Why put it on me? And how did you get one in the first place?”

Victor hums. “It’s something of a fascinating dichotomy, isn’t it?” –he says, clearly ignoring her. “Execution without death; the plant will sustain its host for the remainder of their natural life, feeding on their hopes and dreams in a macabre mockery of a symbiotic relationship. Krypton’s Science Council found this punishment merciful, hence the name, but we consider it rather cruel.”

Kara grunts, conflicting images of Astra and Non being banished to the Phantom Zone and peacefully leading an ecological movement in present-day Krypton competing for her attention. “Because it gives you false memories?” –she manages, if only to buy time for her to figure her thoughts out.

“Bleeding heart that you have, your answer does not surprise me. No, we think it’s cruel for the rest of us, because it exposes our own reality for how thin and fragile it truly is.” –he says. “I should know; I’ve traveled to many of them, and not a single one feels any more or less real than this world you’ve unintentionally concocted.”

The blonde winces. “You’re not making any sense.”

Victor sighs, somewhat disappointed in her. “If we never interfered, and you were allowed to continue on with this illusion, you would not be able to realize that this world is merely a neuro-chemically boosted figment of your imagination. You eat, you sleep, you breathe, and love, and you have done so, as far as you can tell, your entire life – the fake years spent on this idyllic false world included.” –he explains. “Is that not what humans do, just one layer of reality up from this one? You’ve even managed to preserve your work as Supergirl in a world that should never have prompted it, a world where you are not nearly the last daughter of Krypton.”

The tears come in spite of her, as half of her memories start to slot in, one after another – Krypton’s destruction, the trip through the Phantom Zone, crashing on Earth and growing up a Danvers; befriending Winn, falling in love with Lena, working at the Bugle, the Chitauri invasion, taking on the mantle of Supergirl, and becoming an Avenger.

Realizing the truth, of course, means that the fake memories start to become more apparent.

She’s no diplomat on behalf of her people.

She’s not even in a formal relationship with Lena, let alone married.

And of course, Krypton – the world, her whole species, and her family – is gone.

“Is this not an equally valid form of living, then?” –Victor muses, uncaring of her ongoing crisis. “Perhaps even preferable, as you have some built-in measure of control over this ephemeral universe, however subconscious?”

“What do you even want from me, you bastard?” –Kara spits out. “Do you actually expect me to engage with your twisted little questions, or do you just enjoy torturing me?”

Victor shakes his head. “We take no pleasure in causing you suffering, Kara. But, as the King told you, these are necessary steps in the journey laid before you.”

Kara scowls. “You were vague about it before, and then you stabbed me.” –she says, caustically. “For your sake, I hope that this stupid little nightmare scenario you’ve placed me in isn’t your whole argument for getting me on your side.”

“So dramatic.” –Victor says, deadpan, like he’s one to speak. “You are on our side regardless of what choices you make, Supergirl. Answer the question, and we will see if you deserve to understand the full measure of your circumstances.”

She sighs. Victor is insufferable – she almost misses the cruel, no-nonsense man in the armor – but this at least seems like a way forward. Kara tries her best to parse through what the man – projection, construct, or whatever – has said so far. He claims this existence he’s ruined is equally as valid as their own reality, provided no one had interfered with it. The fact that she couldn’t tell her memories apart without his ‘help’ supports this argument, of course, but now that she does, she realizes how senselessly idyllic this fake life has been. Every problem smoothed over, every triumph emphasized – real life just isn’t like that, no matter how much she wishes some of these fake events were true.

“Maybe it’s valid in its own way.” –she says, voice strained by her splitting headache and the tightly wound alien plant around her torso. “But I think a reality that revolves around you like that, that only exists to benefit you at the expense of everyone else...” –she trails off, shaking her head. “You say that maybe it’s the same, but I don’t even know the full details of my own wife’s life; does this Lena even exist when I’m not looking at her? Does the city, the planet? Does this world exist when I’m asleep?”

“It exists within your awareness.” –Victor supplies. “But the rest of this simulated universe is not a simple void. It fills out around you, whatever it is that you choose to focus on. You have visited this version of Krypton in the past, in the memories supplied by the Black Mercy; should we go there right now, we would find it as you’d expect it to be, updated accordingly.”

“But it wouldn’t be real.” –Kara argues. “We both know that all that’s left of Krypton is the radioactive rock you stabbed me with.”

“Now that you’re aware of the illusion, yes.” –Victor concedes. “But I could easily wipe out the memory of this encounter. Obliterate the trauma we doubtless caused you, the very concept of Kryptonite from your mind. We could leave you to this existence, to a Krypton that continues on, in some measure – if you chose it for yourself, of course.”

“So you’re tempting me.” –she sneers. “That’s all this is.”

Victor smirks. “Your answer, Supergirl?”

Kara shakes her head. It barely takes a moment of deliberation. “No. I don’t want this.” –she says, the vines loosening slowly but surely. “As much as I’d like to hug my parents one more time, to wake up in the morning to my wife’s loving smile – to look up in the sky and see my homeworld, even more beautiful than I remember...” –she trails off, half of the vines becoming slack and withered. “Give me my truth. Give me the friends and family I’ve made, despite everything the world’s taken from me, and the prospect of a love I’ve earned, not a fairy tale I’ve been handed.”

“We will give you no such thing.” –Victor says, sternly, before nodding sagely, in what seems to be approval. “But you are certainly welcome to take it for yourself.”

Victor fades away, leaving her alone with her choice. The Black Mercy is nearly detached, by now, but Kara can tell that it could just as easily latch on again, if she changed her mind. She gives her fake home one last, sorrowful look – and feels the gaze of her false wife on the back of her head, tempting her one last time – and rips the plant off her chest.

Kara gives a pained shout, shooting upright on what seems to be a hospital bed. Looking down, the Black Mercy seems to be wilting before her eyes – not wanting to take any chances, she hurriedly slaps it away, which sends it flying into a nearby wall, splattering into dark goo and withered plant matter.

She sighs in sorrow and relief. The Black Mercy is no more.

The Girl of Steel examines her surroundings; she’s still in the Labyrinth, judging by the architecture, but this place is clearly one of Doom’s bases, considering all the tech and strange machines arranged around the sizable room. Doom himself – the real one, she assumes – stands where she expected him to be, working at a computer bank hooked up to a sarcophagus-looking contraption. Behind it all, a massive, hourglass shaped device, maybe three stories tall and hooked up to the ceiling, is connected to the coffin thing; instead of sand, the machine contains blindingly bright energy, which coalesces into a miniature singularity where the narrow pass for the sand on a regular hourglass would be. The energy flows up, and directly out of the sarcophagus’ occupant – a tall, olive-skinned woman looking no older than her mid-thirties and dressed in some kind of futuristic Greek-inspired garb, unconscious but clearly pained by the process.

Kara tries to fly up and rip the lid on the coffin open, but she only succeeds in stumbling out of bed and onto her knees. Doom turns, finally acknowledging her. “You will find your strength lacking for some time.” –the man cautions, his tone back to the cold, remorseless one from before, filtered through the hideous mask.

“Hiding behind Kryptonite again?” –Kara taunts, struggling to pull herself up by grabbing onto the bedframe.

The man’s eyes narrow. “Doom has no need for such supplements; Kryptonite was merely used to make a statement. Your fatigue is borne of the Black Mercy’s effect.” –he says. “You impress, Kara Zor-El; not many sapients have the strength of will to reject the paradise offered.”

“Maybe I would’ve taken it if it’d been offered by anyone but you.” –she says, sarcastically. She can feel her strength building, but she’s not yet ready to charge.

“You would not. You wouldn’t be yourself.” –the man says, matter-of-fact.

She scoffs. “Don’t pretend to know me.” –she spits out. “You have no idea what I’ve gone through, even if you took a trip into my psyche.”

“Doom pretends nothing. You are a known quantity because you’ve been monitored during your stay on this planet, and the trials you’ve survived so far only prove the hypotheses rendered from such observations.” –he explains.

“I told you already: quit it with the cryptic bullshit.” –Kara warns. “Tell me what you want, so I can tell you to go screw yourself and beat the crap out of you, already.”

Doom hums, perhaps slightly amused. “You are welcome to try. But you were promised an explanation for choosing correctly, and Doom honors his word, subconscious or otherwise.”

He turns around, and starts to manipulate some holograms projected from his computer. It’s the perfect time to strike, her strength seemingly back to normal, but...well, she does want to know what the hell he’s on about. In the interest of figuring out how best to stop the madman, she stays her hand.

The hologram projects a black void all around them, obscuring everything but the two of them. He motions with his hand for her to join him, and reluctantly, she does. Between them, a perfect projection of the Earth appears. “You are aware that you’re foreign to the planet Earth; a refugee from the dead planet Krypton, destroyed in a cataclysmic seismic event.” –he says. Mercifully, though the hologram displays Krypton beside Earth, it’s not shown exploding.

“Congratulations, you know about as much about me as S.H.I.E.L.D. does.” –she says, caustically.

Doom continues on, like she didn’t speak at all. “You travelled here through the Phantom Zone, and crashed on Earth after an indeterminate amount of time spent inside that temporally challenged dimension. You have spent the past eight years making a life for yourself here, which has led you on the path of becoming Supergirl.”

“We are officially caught up, and you haven’t made any more sense than before. Running out of reasons to care about what you have to say.”

“The blunt approach, then.” –Doom retorts. “For the past eight years, you have been under the impression that your journey was merely astronomical, a voyage through a glorified wormhole from point A to point B in the same universe.” –he says. “When, in fact, it was inter-dimensional.”

Krypton vanishes, and the hologram zooms out from Earth, the solar system, and the Milky Way, into what she can only imagine is the entirety of the universe – a dark, swirling mass of light, each dot a galaxy in its own right, each galaxy filled to the brim with billions of stars, and likely trillions of sapient beings. A label above it reads ‘Earth-199999’. “This is our universe, merely one of an untold number of alternate realities within that which we call the Multiverse...”

Earth is then cloned, but...not, somehow; the major landmasses appear largely identical, but she can spot at least a few differences; slightly different country shapes, new islands, or outright missing ones. Above the new planet, another label appears. “...and this, Kara Zor-El, is yours.” –Doom says.

The words glare back at her, as if daring her to deny it. Something shivers in her core, like she’s staring at forbidden knowledge, but it also clicks immediately – a similar feeling wonder and foreboding to the one you might get when fully realizing that a singularity of random factors in sequence have rendered you into a living, breathing being, existing at a certain point in time and surrounded by similar miracles of life, somehow arranged into a functioning society. She knows, at once, that Doom isn’t lying – she really isn’t from around here, in many more ways than just being the last daughter of Krypton.

The label reads ‘Earth-16’.

Chapter Text

It feels like the worst kind of eternity – standing there, staring at the glaring number sixteen as Doom stands across from her and the hologram, his cold, bloodshot eyes unblinkingly evaluating her reaction.

Her thoughts still scattered, she brings herself to ask the only question she feels she can. “Why?”

Doom hums. “A litany of factors.” –he says, waving his hand so a number of images surround this representation of her home dimension. She spots many eerily familiar costumed heroes, whose names she can’t recognize but feels like she ought to. “Chief among them the impact that your mere presence would have on our dimension, and thus upon Doom’s ongoing designs.”

Kara groans, completely fed up with his vague answers. “Stop wasting my time with your stupid cryptic bullshit, and tell it to me straight for once!” –she demands, taking a step forward, her fist clenched in anger and exasperation.

His eyes narrow. “You will take the explanation as it is given, Kara Zor-El, or learn nothing at all.”

“Well, then. I guess we’re done talking.” –she says, her eyes taking on a threatening glow.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Let’s not be so hasty, both of you.” –a third voice says, and the man it presumably belongs to steps in between them, holding his arms up and just over each of their chests, trying to stop them from charging at each other. He seems vaguely familiar; a clean-shaven, brown-haired man in a blue and black jumpsuit, about as tall as Victor himself, which is fairly notable in and of itself, a clean six-foot-two. Aside from that, there’s only one remarkable feature about this random, middle-aged Caucasian man; the sides of his hair are pure white – not bleached or dyed, yet so premature and specifically located that it can’t be a natural consequence of aging. “Please, Kara, hear us out.” –he asks, then turns to the armored man. “And Victor, I think hers is a pretty reasonable request; you know you can get kind of long-winded.”

Doom huffs and turns away, his emerald cape billowing behind him. “Coddle her as you will, Richards. The work will continue regardless.” –he says, walking out of the projection’s range, which drops the dramatic black void to show him stepping back to the monitor bank.

Kara frowns, keeping a glancing eye on the supervillain. “Wait a minute...Richards?” –she asks.

“Please, call me Reed.” –he says, extending his hand. “I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have sans Victor’s self-important tone.”

That’s it; that’s how she knows the man. This is Sue’s husband, the brilliant-yet-fringe scientist who led their spacewalk and accidentally got them doused in cosmic radiation, presumably according to Victor’s designs, who went missing after the other three members of the expedition were liberated from Centipede. It’s him, except... “You look...older than I expected.” –she notes, staring down at his hand and ignoring the gesture.

“Oh, you’re expecting the wrong Reed.” –he clarifies, awkwardly taking the hand back.  “The one you’re thinking of is, uh...very much not affiliated with us. Still missing, I believe; I expect Miss Storm and the others are still trying to track him down.” –he says, wistfully.

“So you’re...from some other dimension, then? Like me?” –she asks, bitterly.

“Yes and no.” –Reed winces. “Victor certainly makes it worse with the way he chooses to speak, but he’s not bluffing when he says there are a lot of factors at play, here. Feel free to ask, and I’ll do my best to explain.”

Kara crosses her arms, glancing back at the armored figure, working away at the computer banks. “Well…start with you, I guess.”

“Honestly, I’d rather start with you; you and your situation are much more interesting to me.” –he admits. “But, as you wish. Like I said, I’m not the Reed Richards of this particular iteration of the universe. I suppose you could call me the ‘original’, the one who initially existed in this dimension before Victor embarked on his quest to fix everything that went wrong in our version of the world.” –he says, a hint of bitterness to his voice, then shrugs. “Of course, it’s something of a crapshoot whether or not I’m actually the original Reed Richards of this dimension, or whether the powers that be reinvented 199999 before Victor ever started his own cycle, but I digress.”

Kara takes a moment, struggling to parse through his lofty explanation. “Wait...I thought Victor was from another dimension?”

Doom actually laughs, half in actual amusement and half in what Kara would call regular ol’ megalomania. “Is that what Strange told you? Is that what the Sorcerer Supreme actually believes? How charmingly self-important.”

“Pot calling the kettle black.” –Reed says, deadpan, turning back to Kara. “He’s not wrong, though; the Stephen Strange you know and indeed, every Avenger, and everyone you know – except for a very small pool of people in your immediate vicinity – is an iteration of an original set of people, who either shared our world before its ruin, or came from a world where they’re the originals themselves.”

“All of you are interlopers on our world, whether or not Doom specifically placed you here.” –Victor surmises. “Guests at best, pawns at worst; you all exist at Doom’s leisure, to the benefit of the plan – and only for as long as you’re useful.”

Kara scowls. “And when we don’t march to your tune?”

He gazes straight into her eyes, and Kara finds no soul staring back at her. “Doom...iterates.”

“If it helps at all,” –Reed supplies. “It’s not a painful affair. When we restart the cycle, everything starts over, dragged all the way back to the Big Bang for new changes to be…implemented.”

Kara pales; the scale of this cyclical loss of life baffles her, utterly incomprehensible. “We don’t actually kill them, Kara.” –he hurriedly says, seeing the blood drain from her face. “They’re...rewritten, recreated by the beings in charge of this universe to allow for a new and hopefully improved version of events to take place, accounting for the necessary changes.”

He manipulates the hologram, and Earth-199999 once again replaces her native universe. “We call this process ‘retroactive continuity’.” –he begins. “Whenever a new universe is created, either from scratch or as a derivative of existing dimensions – as 199999 is of Earth-616 – there is a loose framework that everything within it has to stick to. For example, the Earth will always form around the Sun, and humans will always evolve on it – and in our particular case, we will always eventually develop superhuman abilities and costumed identities, creating superheroes. The more a dimension deviates, however, the bigger the chance that its Creators will intervene – to remake or, in extreme cases, to eliminate the aberrant dimension.”

Around the image of Earth, scenes of what Kara assumes to be the original events start playing out; Tony building his first, makeshift armor in the cave, Steve’s shield frozen in the Arctic atop his comatose body, Thor rendered mortal, banished by Odin to Earth, and then all of the Avengers assembling to fight Loki and the Chitauri. Soberingly, she realizes that she isn’t present for any of it; the events continue on in a blur, notably showing her a swarm of skeletal, silver robots crashing like a tidal wave upon her fellow heroes, a clash between two groups of individuals mostly unknown to her led by Iron Man and Captain America themselves in what appears to be an airport, and a golden gauntlet, studded with multi-colored gems, suddenly being made to snap its fingers, unleashing an incomprehensible powerful wave of light and energy. She witnesses, in abject horror, as Peter dies, seemingly disintegrating in Tony’s arms on some ruined alien world.

All of it happens entirely without her input. She doesn’t exist – didn’t exist, at least, in that so-called original version. As far as she can tell, people like Ben, Nico, and Ellie are also explicitly absent.

“We force such deviations.” –Victor says, as if sensing her thought process. He approaches the hologram again, and extends his hand; on it, a small orb appears depicting a very young version of Ben Tennyson, perhaps ten or so, finding and wielding the Omnitrix. “Doom has scoured the Multiverse for its strongest champions, its bravest heroes, and its most powerful defenders. Those deemed worthy have been taken, or otherwise made to appear, in order to bolster the existing champions of this world – those who failed us when it mattered most, who allowed our world to fall to ruin over bruised egos and petty disagreements.”

Kara notes that Victor says this with much more vitriol than she’s ever heard from him; he’s usually boisterous, of course, larger than life, but his tone is usually dismissive when he talks about anyone other than himself; whatever the original Avengers did,  whatever their failing may have been, it’s clearly driven Doom into wrathful madness. He tosses the orb at the Earth, and the dimension number gains a subtitle: ‘Iteration 1’.

“There’s only so much flexibility a dimension gets to have with respect to its established framework.” –Reed adds. “If we merely, say, dropped the Omnitrix into our dimension, which originally lacked it, the change would ultimately have no effect; the device’s presence would be deemed an aberration, and it would find its way out of our universe somehow – a natural portal back home, perhaps, or maybe the device would simply break down into its molecular components as its atoms behave in a nearly imperceptible but fundamentally different way from ours. To make sure the change ‘sticks’, triggering the retroactive continuity phenomenon, we need power.”

“A very specific kind of power.” –Victor says, gesturing at the occupied sarcophagus with one hand, making a triumphant fist with the other. “The spark of Creation, trickled down from the Celestials who’ve forged the Multiverse to the divine creatures spawned from the union of sapient belief and our planet’s natural magic. The power of a god, forcing the universe to submit to Doom’s will!”

The hologram of Earth seems to momentarily glitch, and suddenly, some of the events depicted are modified to include Ben and his alien forms; the one he calls Diamondhead cleaves through hordes of those silver robots, and he later fights Vilgax alongside Thor and Hulk in his red-skinned, four-armed transformation. The process repeats, over and over, adding all sorts of people; she only really recognizes a few, like Ellie and Nico – apparently as foreign to this universe as she is – but she makes a mental note of trying to figure out who the others are when this is over. When all’s said and done, it appears that they’re currently on iteration #117 – the first one she appears in, crash-landing on Earth after escaping Krypton’s destruction.

“Maybe a tad overstated.” –Reed says, sarcastically. “But yes, we use the essence of a sufficiently powerful divine creature as a sort of catalyst. The Greek God of War Ares was the first – and nearly our last; we were young, and stupid, and we underestimated him. If not for Victor’s skill and quick thinking, he would’ve killed us both.” –he admits, taking a gloved hand to his neck, seemingly subconsciously. “But we managed to capture him, and drained most of his power to kick-start this cycle.”

“So the woman in there, she’s a goddess?” –Kara asks, nodding at the sarcophagus’ occupant.

Reed nods. “A fairly obscure one, yes. Our next modification, despite occurring on a galactic scale, doesn’t require quite as much power.”

Kara crosses her arms. “What are you going to change now?”

“Nothing you should concern yourself with.” –Doom says.

“Nothing on Earth, and nothing affecting the planet in the short term.” –Reed clarifies. “We, uh…probably shouldn’t risk any more major retcons, so we’re simply bolstering galactic society’s ability to combat the Black Order’s hordes, in turn reducing the numbers Earth and its heroes would have to contend with when the time comes.”

Kara narrows her eyes. “So you’re throwing innocent aliens at Thanos and his forces as cannon fodder.” –she scoffs. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, considering I’m one of those aliens, apparently.”

“I’m sorry, Kara.” –Reed says. “I know it seems callous, but the truth of the matter is that safeguarding Earth and the human race is objectively more important than protecting any other planet in the universe.”

“Is it, now?” –she says, unimpressed.

“You think this is Richards’ ego talking. Or Doom’s. It is not. We have proven that this Multiverse largely operates on the basis of human existence.” –Victor explains. “All sapient life and consciousness influences reality in physical and metaphysical ways, but humans are given precedence in the vast majority of the universes we’ve encountered.”

“We’re like an anchor; a nexus point, around which the rest of a given universe forms.” –Reed supplies. “We may be far from the actual center of the universe, but we’ve discovered that when we make changes, they always spread from our planet outward.” –he says, a shadow passing over his face. “And when humanity falls, and our planet is no more, the rest of the universe typically collapses, too.”

Kara purses her lips. “Is that what happened to yours?”

Reed sighs. “It’s what was happening. Thanos won. The Avengers were defeated, many of them even killed. And even though they managed to claw back some form of victory, years later…it wasn’t enough.”

“Half of all life in the universe, randomly eradicated in an instant. ‘Merciful’, the Mad Titan called it.” –Victor says, bitterly. “The trillions left behind would disagree. Their loved ones – gone! Every institution, from churches to governments, crumbling under the weight of a bureaucracy meant for double our numbers! Fields left to rot, cattle starving to death, cities falling apart from lack of maintenance!”

“Victor was king of Latveria then, too.” –Reed says.  “Thanos’ genocide was truly randomized; as far as we can tell, every lifeform in the universe had a 50% chance of dying, decided instantaneously to fulfill Thanos’ arbitrary quota. But this cosmic death wave didn’t consider anything beyond raw numbers; in practice, some countries lost a relatively small amount of people while others were…well, ‘harder hit’ would be an understatement.”

“Seventy-eight percent of my people, Kara Zor-El.” –Victor says, looming over her even though he’s not much taller. “Great Latveria, reduced to an emptied husk overnight.”

“And seventy-five percent of mine.” –Reed laments. “Sue, Ben, Johnny…all gone. Nothing any of us could do but watch.”

“All because those self-righteous heroes foolishly believed their scattered numbers were enough.” –Victor leers. “The Avengers had but to ask. Scores of champions, Earthly and otherwise, who could’ve helped, who could’ve prevented this travesty of a defeat from taking the lives of so many.”

“And not just from the Snap, either.” –Reed says, somberly. “Bus drivers, citizens speeding along the highways, airplane pilots, vanished as their vehicles went – what do you think happened to many of their passengers, Kara? People operating construction equipment, doctors in the middle of surgery, children and babies left without their parents for days, as the world reeled with the loss…and those are merely the ones we lost accidentally! Can you imagine, half of humanity falling to ashes around you? The tremendous survivor’s guilt that would entail?”

She can, of course, imagine.

Victor gives a bitter scoff. “Many took their lives as it became clear the tragedy was no accident, and not remotely temporary. And this picture, of course, repeated itself untold millions of times, as every surviving sapient took in the carnage. Thanos vanished, and left behind a half-dead universe that would only further decline as a bitter new normality took hold – like a mutilated limb, its wounds untreated, seemingly functional but merely awaiting inevitable death as the rot settles in and starts to spread.”

Kara winces. “I get it.”

“It took the surviving Avengers five years to collect the Infinity Stones and undo the Snap. Five years of pure, unfettered chaos, during which it became public knowledge that they were to blame for failing to stop Thanos.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m struggling to understand how you stop an evil so incomprehensibly powerful that it just kills half the universe at a moment’s notice.” –Kara challenges.

“Such failure of imagination is what falsely led the Avengers to believe they alone could challenge Thanos. In their rush to retaliate against his initial invasion, they spread themselves too thin and allowed the Deviant Eternal to systematically defeat them, collecting all of the Infinite Six as he went.”

It doesn’t escape Kara that this is pretty much how Victor defeated them, back in the OsCorp lab. It’s not hard to believe that Doom has done this song and dance over a hundred times – he’s obviously a practiced hand at defeating the Avengers, as much as he appears to be at propping them up.

“So why not team up?” –Kara asks. “You have all this knowledge, this whole damn mechanism that can rewrite the history of this universe, and still you act like a supervillain. Why not try to work with us?”

Reed sighs. “We’ve tried, is the thing. On the first iteration, we attempted to convince the Avengers to take the fight to Thanos before he could attack. Even with the evidence of our memories, they never bought it. So we laid a trap, and forcibly brought them to him…and got them all killed.”

“Iteration 2: we had the Mad Titan brought to Earth, alone. The Avengers were victorious, but the Black Order razed the Earth in retaliation.”

“Third iteration: Victor went and killed Thanos on his own. The Black Order realized he was human, traced him back to Earth, and destroyed the planet.”

“Iteration 4: through clever manipulation of the galaxy’s superpowers and strategically placed nuclear warheads, the Black Order was destroyed. Thanos miraculously escaped the carnage, stole the Power Stone from Xandar, and wiped everyone out.”

“And so it went. On and on, dozens of times.” –Reed says. “It didn’t matter what we tried; one way or another, Thanos won, and the best we could get afterwards was a pyrrhic victory. That’s when we started to wander the Multiverse – when we realized other dimensions suffered villains of similar scope and cosmic destruction, some of them with far better results.”

Doom waves his hand, and Earth-199999 is replaced with several others, whose events unfold before her eyes; the Omnitrix attaching itself to ten year-old Ben’s wrist, and subsequently him defeating several villains such as Vilgax as he ages; Nico as a much younger kid travelling and then battling alongside what she assumes are other demigods; a young, male version of Ellie getting zapped inside some kind of portal that turns his hair that familiar snow white, and then battling a number of ghostly foes – and eventually, surprisingly, Ellie herself, much younger and angrier than the one Kara knows.

But she sees others, too; a young, stocky boy with a pink gemstone in place of his bellybutton, a golden haired warrior goddess holding a gleaming sword aloft, a young, lanky man holding a sort of mechanical amulet that bathes his innocent face in a haunting blue light, a raven-haired teen girl suddenly bathed in pink light and transformed into a ladybug-themed masked heroine, and many, many others.

Kara’s pretty sure she even spots a couple of Spider-Man-type figures who aren’t the Peter she knows under the mask. A nerdy, timid kid. A cool skater dude with great hair. A laidback young Black boy. A blonde teen girl that eerily resembles Gwen, merely a hairstyle apart. A haggard man enveloped in some kind of monstrous black goo, like a twisted dark caricature of Spidey’s signature look.

Even if only half of these iterations have yielded major ‘retcons’, as they call them, that’s still dozens of universes forcibly stitched together into one. “How is this universe even in one piece?” –she wonders, baffled. “You’ve corrupted it so much, it just seems…completely unrecognizable.”

“Like I said, as long as we stick to the ‘script’, so to speak, we’re allowed to make these changes.” –Reed says. “I’m not entirely sure why the Celestials allow it in the first place…”

Doom scoffs, like they’ve had this argument before. “Because we are mere playthings to them. Our iterations have merely made the game slightly more interesting to Arishem and his kin.”

Reed rolls his eyes. “Even if I agreed with such a cynical worldview, why keep up the charade in that case? Why not take our idea and run with it? They certainly have the power to make these changes entirely without our input.”

“You know quite well that to do as we have would break their own self-enforced rules, Richards.” –he grouses, then turns to Kara. “And thus we turn to you, Kara Zor-El.”

Supergirl’s not entirely sure she wants to know anymore, given all that she’s learned – like taking a peek under the hood of reality and discovering it’s not quite as solid and stable as she’d like to believe – but she valiantly nods. “Go on.”

“We’ve made enormous strides since turning to the Multiverse for answers.” –Reed says, clearly elated. “We’ve already managed to defeat Thanos and the Black Order several times, even before the Snap takes place. By carefully grooming heroes and villains alike along the paths we desire, we’ve gotten to a point where the Avengers and their allies are powerful and coordinated enough to reliably win this scenario.”

“The collateral damage to Earth remains, however, entirely unacceptable. If our quest is to be considered successful, the Mad Titan and his forces must be defeated at little to no cost to our planet. Otherwise, we’ll run the risk of permanently losing the people we lost at the beginning of our venture – not to mention risking the stability of Earth dimension 199999.”

“We needed a trump card; a powerful champion who could serve as a symbol and rally the disparate champions of this universe, native or otherwise, even after the revelation of our machinations.” –Reed supplies. Kara gets the distinct impression that that bit doesn’t usually go over well. “Someone who came from a world that naturally evolved to the level of variety we’ve artificially provoked.”

Whose playthings are we talking about, now? Kara bitterly thinks to herself. “Are you talking about Earth-16 now?”

“Yes! What a wonderful world.” –Reed praises. “Threatened by such incredibly powerful forces, yet so united even its younger heroes have a major role in continually saving the world.”

Richards shows her glimpses of that world – it’s silly, but it almost feels taboo to look at them. Profiles for several heroes display alongside some of their battles – they scroll by too quickly for Kara to really absorb them, but she notes such names as The Flash, Wonder Woman, and Batman. Like the name ‘Earth-16’, Kara feels a sort of strange familiarity when she reads their monikers – a familiarity only exacerbated as she sees a Tamaranean princess called Starfire, several humans in Green Lantern uniforms, and finally, a man described as Superman.

Kara tears up on the spot; it’s like she’s staring at a younger version of uncle Jor-El, clad in such a similar uniform to hers that there can be no mistaking who the man could possibly be. “That’s…is that Kal-El?” –she asks, hoping against hope, her voice breaking even as she tries to rein in her emotions in the presence of her nemesis.

“Indeed. Clark Kent, the way you are Kara Danvers. The Man of Steel. The Last Son of Krypton. The Superman of Metropolis.” –Victor says, a surprising tinge of respect to his voice. “A paragon of truth and justice, the likes of which this universe almost entirely lacks. A perfect figurehead for the movement we have created.”

Kara narrows her eyes. “So, then…why isn’t he here?” –she asks, crossing her arms. “If Kal is the one you wanted, your so-called ‘perfect candidate’…why pick me?”

“Aside from the fact that he was a baby when you both escaped Krypton?” –Reed says, cheekily. “It’s because Superman is something of a load-bearing pillar of Earth-16, as he is for other such derivatives of Earth-1. If he permanently died, or was otherwise taken out of the universe, the reality would quickly spiral into chaos without him.”

“That’s insane. How is one person so important? And how does the universe exist before he’s born and after he dies? It’s not like Kryptonians live forever; Kal couldn’t be Superman for more than a few decades, could he? Can I?” –Kara balks.

“Such is the game the Celestials play. They wish for such icons to be players within it, and when they don’t, the game is ended – and with it, the lives of all who existed on such universes.”

Reed purses his lips. “We couldn’t take Kal-El out of Earth-16 without dooming that universe. And even if we could…we simply can’t gather the immense amount of power that’d be required to make his existence here possible. All the gods in the world wouldn’t cut it.”

“But you could do it for me?” –she asks, confused.

“For the most part, yes.” –Reed nods. “We weren’t able to bring you in seamlessly – you may have noticed Krypton’s absence, for example – but we could do it to begin with because you’re not one of those ‘cornerstone’-type people, Kara. You’re like the rest of us – as powerful as you can be, as influential on this reality as you already have been, your continued existence is entirely optional. Simply put, if you died today, the Earth would continue to spin. And as far as Earth-16 is concerned, that’s exactly what happened.”

Doom hums. “Regardless, it was a foolhardy bet. Even with the retcon phenomenon, Earth-199999 could’ve still rejected you – returned you from whence you came, or killed you outright. We fully expected the Celestials to decide that your inclusion was one too many, come from a universe that follows a fundamentally different, if similar pattern to our own.”

“Yeah. But the fact of the matter is, we couldn’t leave you behind.” –Reed admits. “I hate to say it, but…you were destined to die as you attempted to escape Krypton, Kara. Your pod was to be damaged by a fragment of the crust, losing speed and being consumed in the explosion as Kal-El sailed to safety. If not for Victor’s intervention, you would’ve died.”

“Once again, you needlessly coddle her, Richards.” –Doom says, then turns to Kara. “You did die with Krypton, Kara Zor-El. Only by Doom’s merciful hand was the moment reversed, and you were allowed to survive by escaping through a portal into the Phantom Zone, manipulated to bring you to this world.”

Doctor Doom takes an armored gauntlet to her chin, bringing it up for them to lock gazes – his, soulless as ever, hers, brimming with enraged tears. “I saved your life. And now, you will save the lives of everyone on this universe. Such is the purpose you were brought here for – that, and nothing else. Fail at this task, and we will simply excise you from this reality – return you to your own, to die as you were fated to.”

And thus, the other shoe finally drops; all the effort, what must’ve been years on end of going through these cycles for the greater good, sullied by the same ego, magnified into abject megalomania, that Doom so hated in the Avengers that failed him and his world. Even if his motives were entirely altruistic – and judging by his comment on ‘saving the originals’, likely at the expense of the ones in this particular iteration, she doesn’t buy it – Victor and Reed’s desire to achieve victory only on their own terms has ruined any chance of her joining their crusade in earnest.

So she expresses that, by blasting the supervillain with her heat vision.

Doom goes sailing, thrown through his computer banks. Reed gasps in shock. “What? But…Kara, I thought you would understand…”

“Oh, I think I understand just fine.” –she says, her eyes incensed. “And don’t you worry, Doctor Richards; when I put on this suit, I made a vow to myself to save everyone I could – to keep people from experiencing the loss I carry on my shoulders every day. And regardless of personal motives, I think I can say that the same driving force pulls on every hero I’ve met so far.”

She shrugs. “So thanks for your input, but I think we can take it from here.”

Supergirl charges forward, like she’s gonna punch the man; he dives out of the way, but she continues on, striking at her true target – the sarcophagus holding the unnamed goddess. The container offers surprising resistance, but not nearly enough to stop her inhuman strength, and the crystalline material shatters, killing the feed of power to the hourglass-shaped device – some kind of magical battery, if Kara had to guess, to hold and transfer the divine energy. She then slices across the power lines connecting everything with her heat vision.

The hourglass pulses, concentrating its collected energy into the singularity in the center; then it sends the whole thing upwards, all at once, and the container explodes.

Kara barely has enough time to grab the unconscious woman and fly out of the immediate blast range; it’s still powerful enough to knock her down and send the limp goddess sprawling, rainbow-colored light beyond the human spectrum swamping her vision for a moment. She shakes her head and reaches for her charge, but gets punched across the jaw by a gloved hand before she can reach her.

Supergirl turns, finding Reed staring at her in continued disbelief, his arm stretched all across the room. She knew about his power to stretch his body like it’s made of rubber, thanks to Sue, but this…isn’t that; instead, his arm appears to be a mixture of synthetic muscle tissue on a collapsible metal framework, a ‘skeleton’ of sorts. “He saved me too, y’know?” –he says, hollow, the arm retracting about halfway. “When we tried to grab Ares, I got careless; I don’t really feel pain since the accident that gave us our powers, but I sure felt it as his axe slid through my neck.” –he admits.

Richards’ body expands, to match his outstretched limb – his torso, his legs, his other arm, they all stretch to reveal similar synthetic muscle and metal. “He couldn’t save my wife or my friends, but he managed to pull me back from the brink. Dragged my soul back from the ether and gave it a body to inhabit.” –he explains, gesturing at himself. He smirks sadly. “One of his ‘Doombots’, you see. I think I’ve done a good job customizing it – I almost feel like myself again.”

“You don’t owe him anything.” –Kara tries. “You don’t need to go along with his madness just because he saved your life.”

“The thing is, Kara, I do. We all do.” –he says. “Everyone else celebrated when the Avengers brought back the victims of the Snap. Even I thought I should just count my blessings when my family came back, safe and sound. But Victor wouldn’t settle for the Avengers’ imperfect solution. And he knew that everyone we’d lost never should’ve died to begin with. Victor is the only person willing to fix everything.”

Reed shakes his head. “Don’t you see, Kara? That’s all we want. At the end of the day, all that lofty cosmic stuff about variants, iterations, and the Multiverse…it’s all just a means to an end: to set things right for a universe that was ruined by the machinations of a few. To give us the chance to save the world that the Avengers wasted, and stop Thanos from even coming close to winning, whatever the cost.”

“That’s just it, Doctor Richards.” –Kara says, forlorn. “You start ignoring the cost, and any solution starts looking affordable. This whole thing has spiraled so far out of control that you’re right back where you started: putting this whole universe’s existence at risk.”

“How can you say that? We gave you a chance, too; you were fated not to make a difference in your original home, but you’ve already made a huge impact here – both as a hero, and just as someone living in this world! If we hadn’t brought you here, so many of your loved ones wouldn’t be here at all.” –he says, clearly disappointed. “Jeremiah, Eliza, Winn, Alex…Lena; they never existed before you arrived, Kara. They don’t exist, back in Earth-16; can you imagine your life without them? Can you even picture a world where they were never born?”

Kara scowls. “That a threat?”

“It is a certainty.” –Doom says, having finally dug himself out of the rubble. “And a potential reality, should you continue to defy the plan laid before you.”

“For someone who should know everything there is to know about us, you sure don’t understand us as well as you think.” –Kara scoffs. “I know for a fact that none of them would be onboard with this stupidly convoluted plan of yours, and I know they’d all cheer me on for putting a stop to it.”

Reed sighs. “Oh, Kara. You didn’t stop anything.” –he says. “Messed with it a little, maybe, but…”

“The retroactive continuity event has already taken effect, Kara Zor-El.” –Victor says, gleefully. “And so the universe continues to bend to our will.”

Chapter Text

Nico knows something is wrong the moment they start winning.

It’s not usually this easy, is the thing – and sure, he could chalk it up to the Avengers’ aid, or the fact that, for once, he’s not a kid on a quest that all but requires that he blindly charge forth with only the barest of cryptic hints to guide him and his fellow stressed-out teen demigods, but years of adventuring (read: almost dying every two or three months) have left him with a finely honed sense of encroaching danger.

Still, he doesn’t get to mull on it too much, on account of the deadly showdown going on around him. He takes stock of the current situation; Strange continues to charge his spell, glowing scarlet runes forming around his dome like some sort of arcane progress bar, Ellie’s split into two copies, one projecting a glass-like rectangular ecto-shield from her palms and attempting to catch any projectiles headed for the Sorcerer Supreme, the other delivering a number of surprise attacks to the magicians by phasing into the cracked marble and upturned soil, coming up from the ground to knock people out, and Thor and the Hulk have forced Hercules on the back foot, defending himself from coordinated attacks where before he could easily take on the Avengers one on one.

As for himself, he’s doing his damnedest to maintain concentration, and thus control over his summoned warriors, as he crosses blades with a trio of magicians who must be too exhausted to cast their strange, life force-based magic.

“Die already, you filthy godling!” –the middle one says – a woman, and the most talented sword fighter of the bunch.

“Pretty sure I’ve heard that one before.” –Nico says, flippant. They lock blades for half a second, the Stygian Iron sword sliding uncomfortably off of the crescent shape of her bronze khopesh. Two other blades try to skewer him, but he parries one and has a skeleton block the other, the risen undead unbothered by a stab that gets stuck between its empty ribs. “Not from an Egyptian witch, though.”

“I’m a magician, you worthless waste of human genes.” –she hisses. “And one of the Faceless at that!”

He blasts chthonic magic at a very eager young man, shouting wildly and charging at him, sending him flying back in a smoking heap. “What, the creepy mask doesn’t count?” –he asks. He doesn’t actually care to know their history – it’s never much of a justification for the actions of people like these, in his experience – but distracting and unbalancing your opponent is always useful.

She thrusts and he barely deflects the blade in time, catching an elbow to the chin for his trouble. Still, he manages to turn on his heel and checks the three cuts she tries to capitalize with, then ducks under a surprise, blindside swing and brings the pommel of his blade down on the back of his ambusher’s head, who crumples like a sack of potatoes at his feet. The lead magician cuts through a skeleton’s torso, and the magic in the blade turns it to ash in an instant. “Insolence typical of a god-child.” –she pants, readjusting the grip on her khopesh. “Our death masks symbolize our departure from the disgraced House of Life! We follow the path of Faceless Akhenaten, struck from the record for being brave enough to reject the fickle whims of the divine!”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Y’know, zealots are usually for the divine.” –he drawls, twirling his deadly blade. “I don’t pretend to understand what your people’s relationship with your gods has been, but trust me, I know all about how fickle immortals can be. It doesn’t really make it okay to go and team up with a murderous supervillain, though.”

“Spare me your patronizing, demigod.” –she spits, like it’s a slur. He’s almost surprised that she doesn’t call him ‘half-blood’, which sounds even more like an insult. “Victor Von Doom has promised to give us a world without gods. It’s as simple as that.”

She yells, charging at him, but she doesn’t get a chance to cross blades with him again, as Ellie surges out of the ground between them and punches her hard enough in the chin for the mask to shatter. The woman grunts, trying to pick herself up, but falls back down, unconscious.

“Hmm.” –Nico tilts his head, somewhat disappointed. His shoulders slump, the tension momentarily gone as he walks up to and nudges the woman’s head with his boot to check that she’s really out. Her face is scratched up and bleeding lightly from the broken mask, but aside from that, she’s merely unconscious. “I don’t think these guys have any idea what a world without gods would be like.”

Ellie wobbles, her neon green eyes briefly flickering back to her human blue, a sure sign of exhaustion. “Do you?” –she asks, landing on her feet, her hands on her knees as she’s forced to recall her clone.

Nico shrugs. “No, not really. But given the fact that the gods personify and balance the forces of nature and even entire human concepts, I somehow doubt that’s a world they could even exist in. Or any of us, for that matter.”

She waves him off. “Don’t get me involved in your weird magic BS, dude. My kind of ghosts are strictly scientific.”

“I seem to recall something about human souls getting fused with sentient, neon green goo.” –he says, sarcastic. “What exactly would you say is ‘scientific’ about that, Eleanor?”

Ellie snorts at the off-beat nickname. “You really should’ve talked to the Fentons, buddy.”

Thor sails over them, followed closely by his hammer. If that wasn’t enough, an enraged howl draws Nico’s attention – Hercules appears to have disengaged his assigned Avengers, and he’s making a beeline for him. Nico blasts him with the dark power of the Underworld, but the Roman god barely slows down, crossing his muscular arms in front of him so he can keep charging; Ellie joins him, the glow of her eyes intensifying as she blasts Hercules with the most powerful beam she can muster, but it’s still not enough, so Nico has all of his remaining skeleton warriors try and hold him back, stabbing at his impregnable skin with their ancient weapons.

This, at least, annoys Hercules; he stops for a second, turning around even as he holds off the ongoing blasts with his palm to utterly pulverize Nico’s undead servants. He then turns, and in an instant, he surges through the beams and backhands Ellie, sending her the hard way through one of the walls of the Labyrinth.

Nico barely has time to react, thrusting his blade into the god’s side as he lifts him up by his throat. Hercules groans in pain, yanking the blade out of his torso and tossing it aside. Nico tries to shadow travel away, but Hercules is somehow able to hold the formless shadows that he merges into just as firmly as his flesh; he attempts to pry his fingers off his neck, even coating his hands in chthonic energy, but he might as well be trying to pry the sky off Atlas’ back – Hercules’ strength is immense, beyond anything he’s ever felt before, and likely ever will again.

“You know…” –Hercules grunts, the golden ichor from his wound slowly ceasing to flow as it heals. “I respected your father back in the day, Nico di Angelo. Hades, Pluto…he was the only god who neither tried to help or hinder me in life – he simply saw my task for what it was and gave me the chance to accomplish it on my own merits. It’s a shame his child so fails to impress.”

He tosses him aside, barely a flicker of his wrist. Spots dance in his blurred vision, but at least he didn’t just snap his neck right then and there. “When I was made a god, I found in your father a kindred spirit. The Olympians are a much too complicated family – and rarely is it ever worth the hassle.”

“I’m…sure…Lady Hebe…would just…love to hear you say that.” –he says, rubbing his neck.

“Perhaps she would; I wouldn’t particularly know, child, on account of getting stuck at the gates of the damned Old World for centuries.” –he spits out. “I haven’t seen my wife in more than five hundred years!”

Nico pants. “So, what, you trusted the guy named Doctor freakin’ Doom to get you out of it?”

Hercules sneers. “The thing is, he did get me out of it, princeling. He freed me of the bonds placed on me by Jupiter’s careless task with magic beyond my ken.” –he says. “But beyond that, this wicked mortal promises to wipe the slate clean – no gods, no Titans, no monsters…and no demigods cursed by their parents’ dalliances to a sad, short life full of violence and death. You should be thanking me.”

“Yeah, I dunno, Hercules.” –Nico says, slowly rising to his feet. “Hades kid and all, I don’t particularly want to die.”

“Standing up to me in your sorry state, Nico di Angelo…” –he grins, looming before him. “…I rather don’t believe you.”

Time to pull all the stops, he thinks. “Well, that’s what a hero does. I’d have thought you of all people would understand, but it seems we’re both getting disappointed today.” –he says, his eyes turning purple and black. “Since you’re so fond of my father, how about you go to Hades?”

The wrecked floor of the Labyrinth instantly opens under Hercules like a monstrous maw, attempting to swallow him whole – for a second, Nico allows himself to feel some satisfaction, but reality, as usual, spits in his face. Hercules’ entire frame glows gold, seemingly hovering in midair as the Underworld tries to consume him; it almost looks like the air beneath him has become plastic wrap, pulling and stretching as it becomes clear that the god simply cannot enter the realm of the dead. Though he looks somewhat pained, Hercules still cackles. “I’m a god, you dullard! You can’t kill me, and no Olympian may enter the Underworld without Pluto’s invitation!”

He flexes, and everything around him explodes in heat and golden light. Nico rolls into a shaky half kneel, getting lucky and grabbing his sword in the process. The path to the Underworld has already closed and Hercules approaches, his massive club lazily resting on his shoulder. “I take it that’s worked for you before, godling – did you think yours was permission enough, to override your Lord Father’s will?” –he says. “A brave final effort, but I’m happy to illuminate you otherwise – for as little time as you have left, anyway.”

Hercules charges one final time, and Nico prepares to go down swinging, but suddenly, all he can see is dirt – as in, he’s inside the ground, going down and then up through the surface again some distance away. He looks down at himself and sees the transparency of Ellie’s intangibility fade away.

“That was close.” –Ellie says, smiling but clearly shaken.

“Yeah, I’m…pretty sure I was starting to sense my own incoming death.” –Nico says. Technically, it’s not the first time – he could sense it too, though much more muted, during the death trance he was forced to enter back at the end of the Giant War. “That was…interesting.”

Hercules roars, once again grabbing their attention. He points at Ellie. “Ghost child! You’ve annoyed me for the last time!”

She smirks. “Y’know, Herc, it’s not as charming when you call me that. Besides, I’ve kinda outgrown the ‘child’ bit. Kind of a young adult right now.”

The god spits. “You’ll be nothing but splattered ectoplasm when I’m done with you!”

Ellie sneers. “Been there, done that. Hit it, Strange!”

The entire room erupts in scarlet light, as the Sorcerer Supreme appears above Hercules, wreathed in the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak, speaking in a demonic voice that does not belong to Stephen Strange. “HERCULES PANHELLENIOS, GOD OF STRENGTH – THE LORD OF THE CRIMSON COSMOS BECKONS YOU TO STILLNESS!”

The Bands shoot downward faster than the god can react, encircling every inch of his body save for his infuriated eyes in glowing red belts marked with runes invoking the entity’s name and power. Hercules struggles – and for a brief, terrifying moment, it seems like he might actually burst free – but the Bands fasten and then detach themselves from Strange, the free ends reaching towards the ground, the ceiling, and whatever nearby leftover columns they can find, like a thousand small anchors.

Strange hovers down and lands shakily, traces of the scarlet magic clinging to his body like a toxic miasma. His eyes are bloodshot, like he’s in a rage, his irises are blood-red, and the veins on his neck and forehead look just about ready to pop – leftover effects from channeling such powerful magic, Nico assumes. Thor lands next to him, holding his electrified hammer between them. “Wretched Crimson One! Begone from this mortal’s body at once!” –the Thunderer bellows, and the red energy is promptly expelled from his body.

“…thanks.” –Strange says, once he recovers. “But I had it.”

“Aye. And Banner and I had him.” –Thor says, nodding at Hercules, completely immobile save for his twitching eyes. “But I suppose your method was swifter; I am quite surprised that Midgard’s sorcerers would willingly consort with Cyttorak and his magicks, however.”

“How do you think us puny mortals have survived for so long?” –Strange asks, the question rhetorical. He turns to address the group – minus the Hulk, who’s chasing away the last two magicians standing. “The Bands won’t hold Hercules forever. We need to find Kara, stop whatever Victor is doing, and get the hell out of here, fast.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something? –Nico frowns. “What about Hecate?”

“Yes, what about Hecate?” –she says, ethereal. “What will the heroes do about the Goddess of Magic?”

They all look around, trying to pinpoint where the goddess’ voice is coming from. It seems to echo from the other side of the ruined temple, from above them, and most disturbingly, from right next to his ear. The Hulk roars in the distance, before suddenly getting cut off; they figure out why instantly, as he’s tossed towards them – shrinking, of all things, as he reaches them. Ellie rushes forward and catches him, now two inches tall and utterly harmless. The little guy tries to jump away, but Ellie makes a little cage with her hands that proves impenetrable for Tiny Hulk.

Hecate steps forward, a swirl of Mist and neon green magic surrounding her main, adult form. “So feisty.” –the goddess says, seemingly amused. “I’ve never known a mortal so filled with rage as to be left entirely bereft of thought.” –she says. “Though I suppose dear Hercules here came close to such a state once or twice in his sad little mortal life.”

Nico’s pretty sure Hercules’ eyes twitch with rage.

“Lady Hecate.” –Strange says, stepping forward. “We have no quarrel with you.”

“Oh, you can’t afford to, Sorcerer.” –Hecate points out. “You may not wield the power of the gods, but in my presence, the arcane defers to me. I could free Hercules with a thought, render your cloak inert, or keep the young princeling from travelling through shadows if I were so inclined.”

What about Thor? Nico thinks. He’s an alien, after all. “Are we at your mercy, then, Witch Queen?” –Thor asks, seemingly thinking along the same lines.

“Please. If you had joined your fellow heroes earlier, you’d know I’m not the one to fear here today, Northman.” –she says. From behind her, her childlike form runs up to the magician Nico defeated last, giggling as she kneels and pokes her face. “My presence here is strictly as a noncombatant. I am merely satisfying my curiosity.”

The Hulk roars, but it sounds like a yawning puppy thanks to his small size. “Seems like a little more than curiosity, your grace.” –Strange mutters.

She waves one of her torches. “The brute will return to whatever passes for his normal state eventually.” –she says, dismissively. “For now, we get to talk without him wrecking this place any further.”

“Okay, so spill it: why have you betrayed Olympus? Again?” –Nico asks, thoroughly annoyed.

Hecate hums. “You’re assuming I’ve betrayed them at all. Quite offensive, I think, given I only recently helped your half-sister defeat one of Gaia’s Gigantes.” –she counters. Her ‘crone’ form steps out from behind her, slowly walking up to one of Nico’s defeated undead warriors. “In truth, Nico di Angelo, this has little to do with Olympus; I came into contact with Victor von Doom simply because the man overflows with magic – much of it, mind you, that he should not be able to wield.”

“You kinda left your duties as keeper of the Mist behind for it.” –Nico says.

Hecate rolls her eyes. “What duties? Mortalkind regularly sees the impossible these days, thanks to all of you. How much longer do you think the Mist will be able to keep them from seeing centaurs and mermaids, as they did in ancient times, before you mortals decided to destroy the arcane?”

“It would last much longer with your influence, Lady Hecate.” –Strange points out.

“A matter of weeks, Sorcerer. No more than a year, at best. The blink of an eye for an immortal, but even for your ephemeral kind, the status quo is not long for this world, regardless of my intervention.” –she says. “Zeus knows this. They all do. It’s why they sent the little godling to you – to be their poster child after the inevitable reveal.”

Nico scowls at this; he already knew, of course, but he’s not quite over how unwise he feels it was to choose him of all people as some kind of representative of all demigods. “So that’s it, then? You left your post and your family behind just so you could check out some neat mortal?”

“Yes, at first.” –she freely admits. “You say it like there’s any love lost between me and the Olympians. I’m a chthonic goddess, Nico – you know we’re ill-liked on their golden realm, perhaps even less loved than minor gods like poor young Hercules.” –she says. “And then I met the man, and I realized just how little even we immortals understand of this plane of existence we inhabit.”

Something changes in the air, like a frigid northern wind briefly intruding on a hot summer afternoon. It feels wrong, in an intrinsic way he could never put to words. “You feel it, yes?” –she says, clearly excited. “I made sure you would.”

They all look at each other, confused – except for Strange, who pales as his eyes widen. “What the hell have you done?”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” –she says. “I’ll claim no credit for this one, Sorcerer Supreme. I merely wished to observe as Victor von Doom irrevocably changed the universe once again.”

Ellie looks to Strange. “Doctor?” –she asks, uncertainly.

“I-I was wrong.” –Strange says. He looks like he’s seen something he shouldn’t have, guilt and fear twisting his usual expression into a pained scowl. “I thought he was merely attempting to fix his own timeline, but…he’s shaping this entire dimension, iterating over and over, dozens of times, until he achieves his perfect vision for our universe…”

“Indeed he is. You are all mere characters in his story, rewritten to match his will.” –she says, amused. “Isn’t it fascinating? That a fragile human could hold such power? Puppeteer everyone alive to dance along to his whims?”

“That includes you, goddess.” –Thor points out, clearly disturbed by the revelation. “Why would you let a mere mortal dictate your fate?”

“Oh, Odinson. I was tempted to vaporize him, when I found out.” –she admits. “And yet, the glaring truth is that I wouldn’t exist as I am today without his intervention. Neither would Nico, Danielle, or Kara – or Hercules and these Faceless Ones, for that matter, just among us present. Would you not agree that this world is better for our inclusion?”

Doctor Strange shakes his head. “We need to stop him. Destroy his machine before he can use it again.”

“Hmm, I’d rather you not. The mortal promises a world free of petty conflicts between immortals soon, and I’m rather eager to see if he can deliver.”

Hecate snaps her fingers, and suddenly the Faceless Ones that her child form has been flitting around rise again, their life force fully replenished. Nico’s undead warriors, too, touched by the crone, reassemble themselves and form up as a protective line between the heroes and the magicians. And of course, because this wasn’t already a dire situation, the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak begin to loosen, their connection to the entity that powers them clearly interrupted by Hecate.

Nico holds his hands out, trying to assert control over his summoned skeletons, but they all ignore him. “Ah-ah-ah, I’m the Goddess of Necromancy, little godling!” –she reminds him, mildly amused. “Even your Lord Father would defer to me in this arena!”

Just to prove her point, she waves her torch and the skeletons get pulled toward the middle of their formation, crushed together into a roiling mass of blackened bone shards, then rebuilt into a single, towering undead golem with three giant heads and half a dozen clawed arms, wreathed in emerald flame. It roars with the all too familiar shrill, agonized howl of the damned.

Nico briefly wonders if this is how his enemies feel when they see him toss a bunch of angry skeletons at them.

“Hah! Not the wisest of moves, Witch Queen!” –Thor says, spinning his hammer. “A single foe will fall to Mjolnir even faster than the many spindly ones!”

He tosses the hammer forth, letting himself get pulled by the seemingly indestructible leather strap at its base. It takes him but a blink to reach the undead monster, blasting through its sternum and coming out the other side, bits of dark bone showering everyone…and then immediately pulling themselves back to fill in the gap led by the Thunderer. The golem retaliates, grabbing a nearby marble column and batting Thor up through the already damaged roof of the room. He comes back as quickly as he was thrown, but he hurls lightning bolts at it from a distance instead – it does about as much damage, which is to say none at all, but at least it keeps their foes busy.

She’s empowering the big guy, Nico thinks to himself, sensing the flow of chthonic magic from the goddess to the monster. “I think I should stab Hecate.” –Nico mutters.

“That’s a fair assessment.” –Strange says, casting a vertical, semi-circular wall of magic that halts a wave of incoming magical projectiles from the Faceless to give them a chance to strategize. “I’m surprised she’d buy into Victor’s promises; I thought she was one of the more caring godly parents, and I think we can safely assume demigods would have a very different existence, if they’d have one at all, if there were no divine conflicts or hostile monsters.”

“Maybe she’s hoping they’ll live longer lives in Doom’s new world.” –Nico says, bitterly.

“I’m more interested in the fact that Hercules got a different promise altogether.” –Ellie points out, wincing as Tiny Hulk punches her palms, glancing at Hercules, who’s still bound but starting to shake a bit. “I bet he’s pissed about that.”

“Good to keep in mind.” –Nico agrees. “Can you guys distract everyone else? I wasn’t kidding about stabbing Hecate – I think it’ll disrupt her connection to the skeleton monster long enough for me to banish it.”

Ellie just blinks tiredly at him, but Strange nods. “We’ll need the Hulk for this.” –he says, holding out his hand for Ellie to hand Tiny Hulk over, which she does. Strange encircles the former giant in a bubble of cherry red light, which briefly makes it look like they’re viewing him through a magnifying glass, and suddenly, the Hulk grows back to his regular size, looking understandably confused.

“You undid that spell way too easily.” –Nico says, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t, actually.” –Strange says. “I just made Tiny Hulk roughly fifty times larger. Do remind me to remove the spell before he resumes his normal size, or he’ll become…I wanna say four-hundred feet tall?”

Hulk grins at this, which is mildly unsettling, to say the least. He roars, pounding his chest, and jumps off towards the enemy, landing on the golem’s central skull and beating the crap out of it as the Faceless Ones scramble to try and take the superhero out.

Behind them, snapping sounds draw their attention; the Crimson Bands are starting to snap, dozens at a time. Strange opens a portal to right beside Thor. “Your dance partner’s coming back; would you mind keeping him out of the fight?” –the Sorcerer says, and Thor eagerly dives into the portal, headed straight for Hercules; the Roman god bursts out of the magical restraints with a wrathful roar, just in time to receive the mother of all hammer blows to the top of his head, driving him straight into the soil.

Then he does something that Nico didn’t expect: he places his mighty hammer on top of Hercules’ chest before he can recover, and walks away from the prone god.

Stephen tilts his head. “Clever.” –he praises, as Thor approaches, leaving Hercules hurling expletives in Latin, having realized he can’t escape this improvised imprisonment. “I suppose we ought to be thankful Lord Hercules isn’t worthy of your power.”

“Perhaps as the hero he once was, but no longer.” –Thor muses sadly. “Hercules has lost his way indeed.”

“Maybe another demigod should remind him.” –Ellie nods at Nico.

“Yeah, sure.” –Nico scowls. “Despite what Olympus seems to think, I’m not exactly the poster child for heroism.” –he says, sarcastically. “Tell you what: if my Hecate-stabbing plan fails, I’ll think about it.”

As one, they get to it; Strange drops the battered barrier, then crosses his arms and projects dozens of images of himself, all of them going on the offensive, Ellie and Thor jumping into the fray not far behind. Nico spares a look for Hercules – who’s starting to look more frustrated and fraught than furious – and wills the shadows to swallow him, spitting him out momentarily in cover of a crumbling pillar behind all their enemies. He catches a glimpse of the battle; true to her word, Hecate dodges everything thrown her way and doesn’t fire back, but she does seem to be continuously replenishing the Faceless Ones’ magical reserves, and even shielding them from particularly deadly blows. Strange has become a force of nature, twisting reality around him and blasting powerful magic that the Faceless Ones barely manage to protect themselves against, while a visibly tired but determined Ellie blasts away at the skeleton monster, protected by Thor and Hulk. Nico notices that her ecto-rays seem to actually do some lasting damage to the undead creature; it isn’t much, but the glowing green energy actually chips away at the mass of bone, and the fragments remain inert once blasted away, seemingly unable to fly back into place.

Still, he believes there’s a more expeditious solution; he waits for an opening, and when the Hulk forces Hecate to dodge too far back to be surrounded by her allies, he melds with the shadows again and attempts to do on purpose what he did to Hercules before…only to find the tip of his blade buried deep in the chest of a Faceless One.

“Oh gods…” –he mutters, as the man gives one last, strangled gasp and visibly shrivels up beneath his robes. It’s a small comfort, that he’s wearing a mask – seeing the life and soul get drained from his face would be haunting, even for him – but he’s still just killed a man he truly didn’t mean to. His corpse crumples to dust at his feet.

“Hmm. Yet another life taken by the son of Hades.” –Hecate says, behind him. Nico tries to swing back at her, but the shadows that transported him have turned against him, holding him in place. “The shadows obey me too, Nico; they told me you were coming. It’s a shame, really – your plan truly could’ve worked.”

The battle rages on around them, but Hecate seems to have made it so they’re ignored by everyone else. “You have to stop this.” –Nico urges. “You’re betraying everything we’ve worked to protect!”

Hecate sighs. “I have no love for mortalkind, princeling. They have rebuffed my gifts as the centuries passed, and only a dwindling few remain who honor me as their ancestors did.” –she says. “My only loyalties are to myself and to my children, and I’ve more than made up for my failure to safeguard them in the New Titanomachy by helping your Roman sibling defeat Gaia – helping this mortal will ensure my children suffer no more for the petty conflicts our extended family so loves to mire themselves and our world in.”

“That’s not what Hercules was promised.” –Nico notes.

The goddess sighs. “Frankly, I’m unsure whether or not he realizes that he, too, would cease to exist if he got his wish.” –she muses. “Perhaps that is what he truly wants, despite his boisterous claims – it’s so very difficult for a god to die. In any case, Hercules and the Faceless Ones’ hope for a world without gods and monsters is moot – the mortal much prefers to add on to our universe, not take away from it. He simply told them what they wanted to hear.”

“Then you can’t possibly trust that he’ll honor his word.” –Nico points out.

“I don’t. I trust his actions, Nico.” –she says. “As soon as he revealed his plans to me, I was able to remember every previous cycle I’ve lived through – just as I simultaneously exist as Hecate and Trivia, so too have I been the same entity through all his modifications, ever since our world of origin was merged with this universe. A benefit to being divine, I suppose.” –she explains. “With every cycle, our victories become more decisive and our defeats less costly; Nico, I only lost a handful of my children to the Titan War this time, as opposed to the scores wiped out in the original version of events.”

It’s a tempting prospect, he can readily admit. There’s just one glaring problem he can instantly identify. “But you still joined Kronos and got them killed in this version, Hecate! Can’t you see? You’re still just following the bastard’s script!”

Hecate pauses, narrowing her eyes. Nico can’t quite tell if she’d deduced that for herself already or not. “The mortal is powerful indeed, but don’t fool yourself – he can’t enact this kind of change by himself any more than I can deny the resentment that drove me to join Kronos in the first place. We are all beholden to the whims of greater gods – Victor merely steers their choices towards a better world than they originally intended. I, for one, shall align myself with the outcome that most favors myself and my own, as I always have.”

Nico shakes his head. There’s no changing Hecate’s mind this time. “We’ll stop this, goddess. All of us, together…we’ll stop Doom from messing with reality any longer.”

“By all means, do try and prove me wrong – demigods have always been good at that sort of thing.” –Hecate tilts her head, almost fondly. “But know this, son of Hades: the people of this world are fast approaching a crossroads from which there is no turning back…and whatever the path chosen, they’d be best guided through by Victor von Doom.”

Hecate flicks him away, and suddenly he’s right beside Hercules, still pinned down by Mjolnir. The god reaches for him, but Nico rolls away to a half-kneeling stance. “…no gods, no Titans, no monsters, huh?” –Nico offers a mirthless smirk. “Hate to say it, cousin, but I think you got duped.”

Hercules growls. “I should’ve known the witch would betray me…” –he grinds out. “Every malakas immortal is the thrice-damned same!”

“You’re one to talk.” –Nico says. “Seems to me like godhood has made you forget about your heroic duty to protect mankind from people like Victor von Doom.”

“I forget nothing.” –he sneers. “Not the heroism, not the gods-damned labors, and certainly not the cruel life I endured for the simple act of being born of one of Zeus’ many indiscretions.”

“Hey, news flash, Herc: all demigods live through crap like that.” –Nico says. “Maybe we weren’t made to kill our spouse and kids, or died covered in Hydra venom, but none of us went through the same kind of pain and sacrifice just so you could decide we’re better off not existing. I’d sooner spend a decade in Tartarus than live a life without my half-blood friends and family, and you and I both know they’d reject your stupid plan, too.”

“Brainwashed fools, the lot of you.” –Hercules spits.

“Maybe. But you’d know about that, wouldn’t you? You could’ve killed me at least two or three times today and you didn’t. You could’ve wrecked the Argo II as the Seven escaped your island, and you didn’t. Styx, you’re not as limited as the other Olympians; you could’ve just assumed your divine form and killed all of us in an instant, save for maybe Thor and Hulk, and risked little to nothing in the way of punishment…and you didn’t. Maybe you’ve lost your way, as Thor says, but…I think you’re still a hero at heart.”

Hercules scoffs, but Nico can see it in his electric blue eyes, so very much like his father’s – he’s reached something beneath the jaded, resentful mask he’s worn for thousands of years. “Just jab that toothpick of yours into my heart, already. I’d sooner lose my physical form for a year or two than be forced to keep listening to your worthless preaching.”

Nico shrugs. “Nah, I don’t think I will. Consider it my way of thanking you for not snapping my neck like a twig a few minutes ago.”

He shadow travels away before Hercules can protest again, standing next to Ellie, who’s clearly trying to keep her transformation up, hiding behind some rubble. “So, the Hecate stabbing plan didn’t work.” –he drawls.

“I saw. We’re not doing much better.” –Ellie admits. “Most of the Faceless Ones are down, but that golem is still a problem – my powers seem to be the only thing that can actually hurt it, but I’m kinda running on empty, here.”

As if to prove her point, her glow momentarily fades, her hair turning black and her eyes blue for just a second before she regains her ghost form. “If only you could get a boost like those magicians got from Hecate…” –Nico muses.

The air in the room changes then; Nico risks a look, and sees that Hecate is projecting some sort of vaguely purple aura across the whole room, erasing all of Strange’s copies, which distracts Thor and Hulk, who get thrown towards them by the golem. Something in his core stills, too, as the goddess of magic smirks wickedly. “I hope you had your fun, Sorcerer Supreme.” –Hecate says, gesturing around her. Only a couple of her allies remain standing, and Nico can feel their bodies straining to their breaking point to try and continue channeling Hecate’s power. Perhaps it’s the fact that they’re not Greek, or that the human body is not meant to wield so much magic in so little time, but the goddess’ aid seems to have been a double-edged sword. “You’ve taken away almost all of my little troops, so I’ve leveled the playing field – no hostile magic may be cast in my presence henceforth.”

Strange tries anyway, but whatever spell he tries fizzles out in his palms. Nico tries, too, but that stillness in his chest apparently means he can’t wield his chthonic abilities. Practically speaking, he’s down to his sword and his shadow travel, but he knows the latter is too risky to use against Hecate. “Do you like it?” –she asks. “In trying to slay me, the giant Clytius taught me something new.” –she says.

“My magic remains unaffected, Witch Queen!” –Thor says, lightning arcing across his body.

“Ah, but without your mighty hammer, how will you ever reach me, Odinson?” –she smirks. “Or shall you chance releasing Hercules?”

“Don’t.” –Strange warns Thor, who simply nods, all business. “Hulk, keep the monster busy.”

The Jade Giant huffs at being ordered around by Strange, but jumps towards the skeleton golem once more. Strange and Thor join the younger heroes behind cover. “So, here we are again.” –Ellie notes, amused.

“Clearly, we need a new plan.” –Strange agrees. “I can still cast magic, but only defensive spells, and my Sling Ring still works.”

“I’ve got my sword, but she’s obviously onto that plan.” –Nico reports.

“I remain as mighty as ever, but without Mjolnir, my mobility and range are much restrained.” –Thor admits.

“I’m kinda sounding like your last hope, guys.” –Ellie says.

“Maybe not the last, but certainly our best.” –Strange says. “Your ectoplasmic abilities appear to affect undead creatures, and without that monster, we should have a much easier time defeating the goddess.”

“Makes sense, I guess, but like I told Nico, I’m actively struggling not to transform back.” –she says. “Unless you can give me a boost, I won’t last long.”

“Perhaps I could give you that boost, young Phantom.” –Thor muses. “From what I gathered during my brief tussle with Stark before the Chitauri invaded, it’s possible for Midgard’s inhabitants to make use of my lightning to boost their own abilities.”

Ellie snorts. “I mean, sure, but I don’t have whatever capacitors or batteries that guy’s armor probably has. If you zap me, I’m definitely gonna feel it.”

Strange hums. “You have me.” –he says. “I can channel Thor’s lightning and transmute it to ectoplasmic energy – the spell used is not intended for combat, and so it shouldn’t count as offensive magic. I’m not sure how long the goddess will allow it, however.”

“I’m willing to try if you are.” –Thor says.

Ellie narrows her eyes. “If we’re gonna do this, I’m gonna need to go all out. I’ve done it before, but…I think I died in the process.” –she says, turning to Nico. “Just…knock me out if you start seeing green bubbles coming out of me.”

Nico nods, fully aware of her alternate timeline self’s death – and the consequences of failing his promise to Ellie’s friends and family to keep her safe. “Will do.”

Ellie turns to Strange. “Do it.”

Thor closes his eyes, perhaps meditating for a moment. Nico smells ozone and hears thunder in the distance, as if the sky above wherever they are in the Labyrinth has suddenly turned to a roiling thunderstorm. The Norse god opens his eyes, and they now shine an almost white shade of blue, as lightning completely envelops him, deadly arcs tracing closer and closer towards them. Strange catches them just in time, his pointer and middle finger extended like a lightning rod, taking the energy into himself – a process that clearly pains him, visibly gritting his teeth and clenching his muscles beneath the robes he wear. Using his left palm, he projects a sort of liquid light, neon green like all of Ellie’s powers, that envelops her body.

All of a sudden, Ellie stands bolt upright; her fading glow returns, her eyes blaze with emerald light, and her hands become wreathed in green plasma. “Arrrgghh…!” –she grits out, holding her head, her voice taking on a haunting ethereal tone. “Power’s…overwhelming…!”

“So let it loose!” –Nico urges.

Ellie waits no longer, floating up. Hulk must sense something amiss, because he jumps out of the way, as the half-ghost heroine screams.

Nico’s never heard anything quite like it; even the Pits of Tartarus are quieter, the suffering of its tortured inhabitants less mired in despair. It sounds like the anguished howl of every soul that ever lived, vocalizing their every torment in life, their every lament in death, a billion voices crying out in unison to destroy everything in their path. For a moment, Nico’s…afraid of the Phantom – almost like he can picture her eradicating the men who experimented on her even as her mangled body consumed itself, like he can imagine Danny’s dark, future self killing everyone who opposed him.

The Ghostly Wail sweeps through what used to be the temple-like structure, razing everything still standing to the ground. Hulk barely avoids the onslaught, waves of sound given emerald form and enough power to disintegrate the skeleton monster on contact. Nico catches the briefest glimpse as Hecate’s eyes widen and she conjures shadows to transport the defeated magicians away, then puts up a shield to protect herself, but it instantly shatters, and the ectoplasmic energy engulfs her, too.

For a moment, Nico worries – gods can’t truly die except for very specific circumstances, but their physical forms can be destroyed, sometimes to the point that it can take a very long time for them to exist again in the material plane. He can feel as Hecate’s form degrades, a form of death unto itself, so he reaches out to maybe stop his friend, but her exhaustion beats him to it; the Wail swiftly dies down, and bright rings of light wash over Ellie’s top and lower halves, returning her to a human form. He catches her before she hits the ground – she’s out like a light, but thankfully, he spots no glowing green bubbles. She won’t melt down into ectoplasm again.

Hecate groans in pain, covered in ash from the golem, her once regal clothing torn and burnt. The heroes approach her, but a massive black hound and a polecat appear from nearby shadows, standing protectively between them, growling and barking as an obvious warning. “It’s over, goddess.” –Strange says.

“You’re the Sorcerer Supreme. You know better than that.” –Hecate hisses. “This is merely the beginning.”

“Perhaps. But your part to play in it is done.” –Strange declares. He closes his eyes, and a golden omega symbol blazes in the middle of his forehead. “In the name of Zeus, King of Olympus, I compel you to return to your duties as Goddess of Magic and Keeper of the Mist!”

A large sigil with the same omega rune at its core appears underneath Hecate’s prone form, and she’s enveloped in a pillar of blue and golden light, but the banishment is short-lived – interrupted, as the entire floor of the cavern crumbles at once, already weakened by the titanic fight between Hulk, Thor, and Hercules, and seemingly irreparably damaged by the Phantom’s Wail. Nico holds on tight to Ellie, still unconscious, waiting for the inevitable crash with the floor below, but the Hulk catches them both and shields them from the debris when they land, maybe thirty feet down.

“Regrettably, the goddess of magic will not be going just yet.” –the morbidly familiar voice of Doctor Doom says. “Doom yet requires Hecate’s services.”

Nico looks around; they’re in some sort of wrecked laboratory, grafted onto what used to be a sepulcher of sorts, by the looks of it. A very haggard-looking Kara seems to be protecting an unconscious woman; the Kryptonian’s uniform is torn in places, her forehead bleeding, alarmingly enough, and her thigh sporting a nasty magical burn. Victor, too, appears to be protecting an ally of his own, a man in a blue and black jumpsuit with what seems to be stretchy limbs, currently tied in a painful looking knot. The King of Latveria is looking a bit worse for wear as well, his armor and robes sporting fairly deep burn marks that can only have come from Kara’s heat vision.

Doctor Doom raises his hand, as blazing scarlet runes light up all around the room. Nico vaguely recognizes them – they, too, seem to invoke the power of Cyttorak, though the setup is different, and so are the effects; they’re all enveloped in a scarlet aura, slowed down to a crawl except for the gods, seemingly unaffected by the lesser spell, and Doom himself, along with his defeated partner.

The son of Hades watches as Doom blasts Hecate with a vaguely familiar beam of energy – something he knows he’s felt before, deep within the bowels of the Underworld. The goddess trembles briefly, and her body turns a brilliant white before collapsing into a miniature singularity, which floats over to Doom’s palm.

Hercules roars, then, exploding from beneath the rubble. “MORTAL!!!” –he howls. After the fall, his left hand is now trapped beneath Mjolnir – and if Nico’s eyes don’t deceive him, the divine hammer seems to be budging just a little bit as he tries to rush Doom. “Unhand the goddess, or face the wrath of Hercules!”

Thor must see the turn in the Roman god’s attitude too, because he summons Mjolnir to his hand, releasing Hercules, both gods vaulting over to smash Doom to bits. The sorcerer makes a split second decision; he tosses the orb that contains Hecate to his companion, who yelps as he barely catches it, falling into an awaiting Sling Ring portal, which closes just as Hercules and Thor bring down their godly might upon their very much mortal foe.

The runes deactivate pretty much instantly, letting them all move again. When the dust settles, Hercules and Thor rise over their foe’s body – or what should’ve been, as the mangled remains reveal nothing but machinery underneath that imposing suit of armor.

“Well…unless Victor has been a robot all along, the bastard’s still out there.” –Kara says, bitterly.

“Indeed. And he is now armed with a most valuable hostage.” –Strange says pursing his lips.

Kara shakes her head. “Damn it, we’re back to square one!” –she says, frustrated.

“Not so, my friend.” –Thor counters. “We’ve destroyed one of his bases, forced him to retreat, and now we know exactly how he operates. We shall rescue the goddess Hecate and stop Doom yet!”

Nico snorts. “Y’know, the man is despicable, but his name does make for some amusing puns.”

Kara sighs, sparing a tired smile for the demigod. “At least you guys are okay.” –she says, then looks down at Ellie. “…she’s okay, right?”

“She’ll live.” –Nico reassures her. “We really did do some good here today, Supergirl, don’t doubt that.” –he says. “Bad guys running away for a later, climactic encounter is pretty much par for the course, when it comes to being a hero.”

“Aye, and Hercules pulled through in the end!” –Thor says, bumping (read: punching) the Roman god’s shoulder. “I knew you still had it in you!”

Hercules crosses his arms. “Don’t count me as one of your little triumphs, Odinson. I didn’t do it for you. My need for revenge against the Witch Queen and the mortal that betrayed me simply overwhelmed my hatred of heroics for a moment.” –he says, turning to Nico. “And…I suppose I also had a kindness to repay.”

Nico rolls his eyes. “You keep telling yourself that, Herc.” –he drawls.

The god huffs, but he sounds just a little less despective than before. “I will leave you all to your delusions of heroism.” –he says, turning to Strange. “Sorcerer, I will visit your Sanctum in one week’s time and tell you all that I know of the mortal’s plans.”

“I don’t know that we have that kind of time.” –Kara urges, uncertain of Hercules’ attitude adjustment but willing to work with it for the moment. “He has Hecate, he could make another change to the universe whenever he wants.”

Hercules shakes his head. “He will require some time to make his next move, Kryptonian.” –he claims. “Take this time to rest, heal, and prepare – your next clash with Doom may not be so easily overcome.”

Chapter Text

There’s a brand new Ancient Greek archaeological dig site a few miles south of Albany, New York, now.

It’s more than a bit bizarre, Kara thinks, surveying the scene from above. It’s nighttime now, and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s ever efficient quarantine teams have taken over, setting up a perimeter around the former battlefield, the ceiling of which caved in shortly after the battle – probably on account of Hercules bursting through it and as far away from them as possible. It’s the strangest thing; the temple-like hall and what remains of Doom’s lab underneath are no longer connected to the Labyrinth – almost like they were forcibly ejected by Daedalus’ monstrous creation to keep what lackluster integrity it has left intact. There’s no way back in, at least from here.

Kara’s fine with it. If she never sets foot in that mythical place again it’ll be too soon. Even discounting the revelations about her heritage, the twisted torture of the Black Mercy, and having to face Victor again, the Labyrinth kinda sucked, all on its own.

Alex whistles for her attention below, so she floats down to meet her. Her sister is back in S.H.I.E.L.D. fatigues, begrudgingly following Kara’s advice. “You guys sure made a mess of this place.” –Alex notes, crossing her arms.

“I know, I know. But Doom forced our hand.” –Kara says. “Still, considering Thor and the Hulk fought actual, literal Hercules here, this place is remarkably intact.” –she points out.

“True enough.” –Alex admits. “So, what was he like? I take it he wasn’t the lovable dork Disney sold us.”

Kara scrunches her nose. “No, not at all. He was this bitter, stone-faced ancient Roman guy. I didn’t really fight him, but he almost killed Nico and Ellie without batting an eye.” –she shakes her head. “It’s gonna feel really weird when I watch that movie again.”

“Ah, it’s not really his fault.” –Strange says, walking over to them. He’s out of his sorcerer’s robes, clad in a stylish blazer and wearing that flying cape of his as a lengthy scarf. Whatever else she can say about the Sorcerer Supreme, his fashion sense is impeccable. “Hercules’ mortal life was harsh and unforgiving, and the treatment he’s received as a god by his divine peers has been less than respectful. I don’t condone his actions, of course, but…I understand his reasons.”

“I don’t know, Strange. I’ve heard a lot of tough origin stories these past few months, and I can’t say I see any of them attempting to crush a teenager to paste with a weapon fit for a caveman.”

Strange smirks. “You should ask Nico; all things considered, this was one of his safer adventures.”

“You realize that’s worse, right?” –Alex says, deadpan.

“Take it up with the Olympian gods, Agent Danvers.” –Strange says. He turns to Kara. “I realize S.H.I.E.L.D. must have evaluated you already, but as a former doctor myself, I need to ask: are you feeling well, Kara? I understand your confrontation with Victor turned violent quite quickly.”

Kara shrugs. “I’m fine. I still have that magically inflicted burn on my thigh, but it doesn’t hurt too bad, and the medics said it should go away in a day or two.” –she says. “I was more disoriented by the fact that we spent a couple hours inside the Labyrinth and came out to find we’d been gone for two days.”

Strange winces. “Yes, I…probably should’ve mentioned that before we delved inside. Time and space, both, typically function quite differently in the presence of powerful magicks.” –he explains. “Many demigods and other such adventurers have taken advantage of the Labyrinth’s space-time dilation properties in the past as a ‘shortcut’ of sorts – a very deadly one, of course, but most useful when a quest takes you back and forth across the country. Nico himself can attest to that.”

The blonde grunts. “I’ll take your word for it, Doc.” -she says, then nods at the dig site. “What’s the news? Did they find anything of value yet?”

“Indeed they have. Shall we?”

The trio heads towards a large tent pitched right beside the dig site, which serves as a temporary command center. Various computer banks and pieces of scientific equipment Kara can only vaguely identify fill the room, operated by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. In the middle of the tent, three familiar figures are examining what’s probably the most relevant items salvaged from the wreckage – the mangled remains of the robot that served as Doctor Doom’s stand-in for the entire scenario, and what little survived of his workstation.

Maria Hill, Winn (of all people…), and Nick Fury himself ponder the Doombot, studying the readouts projected by the high-tech mortuary slab apparatus the ‘corpse’ is laying on. It’s the first time Kara’s seen Fury for more than half a second since she found out about the Kryptonite dagger – her first instinct is to deck him on the spot, but she figures they won’t exactly get much work done if she shatters the man’s jaw right now.

The remains of the robot have been cleaned up as much as possible; most of the clothing it wore was incinerated by the gods’ massive blow, and much of the armor is damaged, either by blunt force or heat. The robot looks kinda like a burn victim, with Doom’s scowling mask making his face appear to be stuck in some kind of cadaveric grimace. If this were Doom’s actual body, she might feel some sort of pity or regret – if nothing else, she’d find the imagery too reminiscent of the dead lining the streets of Argo City, a fate she wishes on no one, not even Victor – but knowing that this is simply a robot, all she can feel is contempt.

All the horrible things he put her through, and he couldn’t even be bothered to actually be there to inflict them. Was he even present back when he stabbed her?

“Doctor. Kara.” –Fury greets. “Hell of a find.”

“Yeah…lots of that going around, huh?” –Kara says snidely. She can’t help herself.

Fury holds his hand up. “We’ll talk, Supergirl. Business first.”

She sighs. “Make it quick, then.”

“Agreed.” –Steve says, joining the meeting with Romanoff not far behind. “Victor took an important defeat today. We need to press the advantage.”

Fury simply hums. “Anyone care to take a guess on what we’re looking at?” –he asks, surveying the room.

“A robot, of course.” –Alex says. “More complex than any I’ve seen, at least at a glance.”

“And capable of wielding magic, I guess, as Kara’s injury can attest to.” –Romanoff adds.

“Wrong on both accounts!” –Winn says.

“Hmm. Inaccurate, more like.” –Strange chides. Winn’s enthusiasm is completely unaffected.

Fury rolls his eye. “The point being, there’s quite a bit more than meets the eye, here.” –he says. Hill winces at the pun, intentional or otherwise. “This robot is no ordinary bucket of bolts – this is a Life Model Decoy, a type of robot designed by Howard Stark in collaboration with S.H.I.E.L.D. in the mid-to-late 60s, following the Kennedy assassination. It’s a robot designed to perfectly mimic a subject’s behavior and appearance, in order to fool would-be attempts on their life – taking the shot for a VIP if necessary.”

“They were mostly used to temporarily replace indisposed politicians for important public engagements, though, to be honest.” –Hill says, clearly annoyed.

“Also, while extremely impressive, even by today’s standards, the LMDs’ positronic CPUs decayed rapidly, as the strain of mimicking human thought proved way too much to handle long-term for the hardware available, even to S.H.I.E.L.D., in the 70s and 80s.” –Winn supplies. “You’d be lucky to get a year out of them before the logic errors piled up to the point the LMD either went full Terminator or started sucking its thumb and babbling like a baby.”

“We phased them out in 1989.” –Fury says. “Howard’s obsession with finding Captain Rogers here had long since caused him to lose interest in the project, and the Cold War was on its last legs, so assassination attempts had become much less common, turning the project obsolete. We’ve kept them mothballed at a secure location since.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably at the mention of Howard. Kara crosses her arms. “So, Doom stole this thing from you.” –she concludes. “Again.”

“Yes and no.” –Hill says, conflicted. “We’ve determined that Von Doom did steal one of the original prototypes, but that’s not what this robot is; he seems to have reverse-engineered the technology, instead, and improved upon it.”

“‘Improved’ is putting it mildly!” –Winn says, excitedly. “I’ve only scratched the surface, but I can confidently declare that this is the most advanced robot on the planet. I knew Latveria was one of the top names in robotics, but this is next level.”

“That it might be, but…much more worrisome is its ability to wield arcane powers.” –Strange interrupts. “This robot should be unable to harness the ambient magic around us, as it possesses no life force that could resonate with such energies; it bears no mark of patronage from a higher being, and it obviously lacks the bloodline it would need to cast divine magic, and yet we’ve seen firsthand that it is indeed most capable of it.” –he says. “Moreover, technology tends to be affected by the presence of magic – and the more complex the device, the more likely it is to break down or malfunction. Simply put, this construct is so advanced it should’ve fried or exploded the moment a spell was cast in its presence. And yet, not only did it survive unscathed till the Gods of Thunder and Strength struck it down, it cast the spells itself.”

Widow frowns. “You said that was ‘inaccurate’, though.”

“That’s where Victor’s brilliance comes in.” –he says. He points a slightly shaky, scarred finger at what looks like silvery chainmail, underneath the warped armor plates. “It’s difficult to tell now, in this state, but the robot’s innards are meant to be insulated from magic – the material in this protective layer is promethium, a magic-resistant metal found only in the liminal realm of Limbo, which would easily prevent the delicate electronics within from being affected. The magic cast by the robot flows through the armor instead – see the runes inscribed underneath?”

Kara does, in fact, see a bunch of weird, tiny golden squiggles inscribed on the underside of the individual armor plates. The runes are arrayed in a specific pattern, with the largest ones encircled and connected to each other by lines. “Flows from where?”

“From Victor himself.” –he says, looking suitably impressed. “When this robot fought, it used its creator as a magical battery over a very long distance – all the way from Doomstadt, Latveria.”

“Could you use this thing to track him, then?” –Rogers promptly asks.

Strange shakes his head. “Not anymore, unfortunately. The connection was shattered when our divine allies destroyed the robot, so I can only tell you where the real Victor was at the time. Perhaps if we encountered another…” –he trails off.

“I guess it’s likely, but it’s not something we can depend on.” –Romanoff notes.

“Even if it was, if it points us to Latveria, we can’t actually do anything about it.” –Hill says. “The country rejects S.H.I.E.L.D.’s authority, and even if we just sent your team in, Von Doom would claim the Avengers are too intrinsically tied to our agency and Western interests in general as grounds for forcefully expelling you from the country. So far, the UN and its member countries have been willing to let you operate unrestricted – that’s not an envelope we want to push.”

Kara narrows her eyes. “Doesn’t Doom present himself as some kind of young, charismatic industrialist? Surely we could use something like that to expose him for the monster he really is.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s obvious that he knows S.H.I.E.L.D.’s playbook too damn well.” –Fury says. “He’d just use the excuse we intended for Stark before he blew his goddamn secret identity to kingdom come – that the Doctor Doom persona is a guardian of sorts he’s created to defend Latveria. He could even pop one of these things open for the public and claim it’s been a robot all along.”

“We must have some kind of footage we could use to counter that, though. Doesn’t Stark stick our suits full of monitoring equipment? Cameras, microphones, biometrics?” –Romanoff suggests. “They’re basically privacy nightmares.”

“Sure, but LMDs are no joke. One of us could be an LMD, and 99 times out of 100, you wouldn’t be able to tell.” –Hill says. The Black Widow mutters something along the lines of speak for yourself. “He could even claim he invented the tech, and S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t be able to contradict him – we’d risk admitting to a whole lot of shady crap if we did.”

Kara snorts. “What else is new?” –she drawls. Fury narrows his eye at her.

Rogers crosses his arms. “You’re saying we have nothing to go on.”

“I’m saying we don’t have much.” –Fury retorts.

“Hercules did tell us to rest and prepare for the next bout.” –Strange chimes in. “It’s typically unwise to disregard such direct advice from a god.”

Kara notes that Steve looks markedly uncomfortable about the prospect of acknowledging Herc’s divinity. “Sure, but we can’t just sit around and wait for him to strike, either.” –she says. “What about his computers? Did you get anything from that?”

“We’re still parsing through the data.” –Hill reports. “What little survived, anyway. But…well, we were able to glean and confirm some things. Mostly about you, Kara.”

Kara scowls. It’s not particularly a topic she wants to discuss, especially with S.H.I.E.L.D., but there’s no way around it. “Don’t hold back on my account.” –she says. “I’m sure everyone here’s read the debrief by now.”

“We know now that not only are there untold numbers of universes out there, Victor von Doom has the ability to freely travel between them, ‘recruiting’ people and integrating elements from other realities that he believes can improve our planet’s chances of survival in some inevitable future confrontation with the sponsor of Loki’s attack on New York.”

“Thanos, the Mad Titan.” –Strange says, soberly.

“Right. There’s that name again.” –Rogers notes.

The non-Avengers in the room seem curious, so Romanoff clarifies. “The alien that recently invaded California was trying to steal a powerful artifact in order to take him on, or so that Tennyson kid said.”

“I have peered at Thanos through the Eye of Agamotto, and I’m afraid I see nothing but death and destruction in his future – in our shared future, to be precise.” –he says, fairly disturbed. “He’s no immortal deity, and yet his cosmic presence is akin to that of a God of Death.”

Kara purses her lips. “I think I saw what you mean.” –she says. “When Victor showed me his world – the original version of this one, I guess – I saw endless hordes of aliens commanded by him invading the planet, killing indiscriminately. And not just civilians who couldn’t fight back…I saw him kill heroes, too. Avengers and otherwise.” –she admits.

“Who?” –Romanoff asks, a harsh edge to her tone. Kara thinks of Peter dying in Tony’s arms, crumbling to ash and blowing in the wind of an alien world, and finds she can’t articulate the words.

Steve seems to notice. “I don’t think we need to know, Romanoff.” –he says, gently. “Despite his horrible methods, Victor and this…original Reed Richards are working to prevent that future as much as possible.”

“Captain Rogers is correct.” –Strange says. “The future Kara saw no longer applies to us. In fact, now that I know what to look for, I suspect I’ll find that our universe has experienced a great many changes since that dour original.”

Fury leans forward. “But some things haven’t changed. Thanos came then, and he will come for us, eventually. And clearly, the Avengers have been a fixture from the start, and most likely still humanity’s best bet against him – otherwise, Doom probably wouldn’t be so obsessed with challenging you and potentially bolstering your numbers or providing you with allies.”

“I almost wish we hadn’t found out about that.” –Kara mutters. “I feel like now I’m gonna second-guess every friendly hero we meet.”

“Don’t look at it that way. That may be Victor’s plan, but I highly doubt he goes around and asks people to join us – he just creates circumstances that might lead to that.” –Steve surmises. “That said…do you think he intended for us to find out?” –he asks Strange.

The Sorcerer Supreme narrows his eyes. “I’m not quite sure. There are benefits to both approaches.” –he muses. “If we never found out, his plans would most likely be able to unfold largely unopposed. But now that we know, we can prepare for what’s coming, likely a number of years ahead.”

“I think he does want us to know. It’s not just the speech he and Reed gave me – that could’ve been a spur of the moment decision.” –Kara says. “Centipede, which we know to be connected to Doom, sent out Sue and her family to attack a Damage Control vehicle in broad daylight, fairly close by for the Avengers to intervene. He kicked our butts and stabbed me, but chose not to kill any of us. And when I was under the Black Mercy’s spell, I…it was all a big experiment for him. Maybe he’s kept us – or, uh, you – in the dark in other iterations, but he definitely wants us in the know for this one. Heck, judging by the way he acts, he likes us knowing.”

Strange hums. “Perhaps, but at the end of the day, Victor is still human, same as the rest of us.” –he says. Kara isn’t, obviously, but the spirit of his statement stands. “He’s not infallible, and he can’t predict every eventuality. This, right here, is evidence of it.” –he says, gesturing at the broken robot. “The destruction of this Doombot was a sacrifice play; he didn’t expect that Nico would be able to nudge Hercules back to heroism just enough for him to be forced to stay behind so Richards could escape with Hecate’s divine essence. Now that we know what he’s been doing – the broad strokes, at least – we know what the stakes are, and we can fight accordingly. The task is more daunting than ever, but I believe we can prevail with this information.”

A report on the retcon phenomenon appears on a nearby screen, built from Kara’s debriefing and the information they’ve managed to salvage so far from Doom’s databanks. “No wonder he’s three steps ahead and fully capable of kicking the collective asses of Earth’s mightiest heroes; he’s been doing this same song and dance for the equivalent of centuries.” –Hill continues. “He must’ve fought dozens of previous versions of you.”

“And if he gets something wrong, he gets a cosmic do-over.” –Fury says, with the tone of someone who would really like to have that power, too. Kara leers at the man, who pointedly ignores her.

“It’s not quite so simple.” –Strange reassures them. “As someone intimately familiar with manipulating time through magical means, I can almost assure you that Victor has to pay a hefty price for his meddling with the natural unfolding of events. I imagine he has to actually live through much of his life all over again, if not all of it, whenever he changes something. He likely has to personally orchestrate certain events such that they happen as he wishes them to, and risk his life to procure the power he needs to achieve this ‘retroactive continuity’ effect.”

“Maybe I’ve just had a really crappy life, but I feel like that would drive me insane.” –Winn comments.

Kara snorts. “I mean…isn’t he?”

Strange tilts his head, conceding the point. “That being said, and knowing Victor – as well as he’s allowed me to, apparently – it would be safe to assume that he’s minimized the risks as much as possible, and created workarounds for some of these…operational hazards. While I doubt his ego would allow him to miss every battle, these robots of his are probably intended for just such a purpose.”

“We should try to do that, too.” –Rogers crosses his arms. “If we’re not able to press our advantage by taking the fight to them yet, then we have to focus on finding out as much as we can about Doctor Doom, his accomplices, and their plans – he’s been able to blindside us twice, and we cannot afford to have that happen a third time. We need to know everything we can about Thanos, as well.”

“S.W.O.R.D. will provide us with everything they have on the Black Order.” –Fury promises.

“Don’t stop there, Nick.” –Romanoff smirks. “Don’t you have a team of some of your top agents investigating Centipede right now? Letting the people who’ve actually faced them in on the case would probably be a big help for them, don’t you think?”

Fury looks somewhat miffed about this rebellious gesture – not that the Avengers weren’t already aware that S.H.I.E.L.D. had taken over the Centipede investigation, of course, but it is kind of suspicious that Fury won’t allow them to work together.

His excuse is the same as before. “You’re right. You have already faced those bastards, and more than proven that your sledgehammer of an approach isn’t the way to go. If the investigation turns up anything relevant for you, I’ll forward it to you myself.”

“Keeping secrets isn’t the way we win this, Director.” –Rogers admonishes.

“Maybe not for the Avengers, Captain, but it is for S.H.I.E.L.D.” –Hill counters. “Always has been.”

“You know what? No. I’m calling bullshit on that one.” –Kara says, scowling.

Romanoff raises an eyebrow, amused. “Oh, here we go.”

“Your secrets didn’t keep Doom from stealing gods know how much technology from S.H.I.E.L.D. Your secrets didn’t stop Centipede from taking your little Iron Man replacement project and throwing it against us with a fresh coat of paint and a remorseless mercenary at the controls.” –she hisses. “And, oh yeah, your goddamn secrets almost got me killed!”

Fury stares at her for a moment, then sighs. “I think we’re done for today.” –he says, but what he really means is everyone out. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents around them immediately get up and leave the tent, barely even slowing down to save their work; Hill and Winn go along with them – her friend shooting her an apologetic smile – but her fellow Avengers and Alex don’t move at all. “You’re dismissed, Agent Danvers. Stand by for further orders from your superior.” –he says, pointedly.

Alex looks like she wants to argue, but Kara holds up a hand. “Go, all of you. I can handle him on my own.” –she reassures them. The three of them leave, after a moment’s hesitation, Alex nodding at her begrudgingly and shooting a murderous glare at her boss’s boss.

Fury sits at one of the computer banks – he looks…tired, for once. “Do you know how old I am?” –he asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

Kryptonians lived about half again as much as humans, but she’s been on Earth long enough to more or less accurately guess. “Late fifties, early sixties, I guess?” –she says. Her anger remains, but she’s willing to bide her time for a minute or two.

“I kind of look it, but no.” –he says. “I’m eighty-two. Born in Huntsville, Alabama, on the fourth of July, 1930. Cap and I actually share a birthday, just…twelve years removed.”

Kara blinks. “…you’ve aged remarkably well.”

“Definitely not as well as Rogers.” –he says, mildly amused. “I was exposed to an artifact that cut my aging rate in half when I was twenty – one of the Red Skull’s wicked little treasures, secured by the SSR after the war. I should look just a hair over fifty, but…well, the job takes its toll.”

Kara takes in his appearance – the wrinkles, the scars, and yes, of course, the eyepatch. No one could doubt his commitment to the job, she doesn’t think. “Your point being?”

“I’ve seen a lot of shit during my time.” –he shrugs. “More than any one human should, even by their eighties. I’ve seen the worst, most destructive, bloodiest things humanity has done, publicly or otherwise. And all of it – all of it – pales in comparison to what I saw when we found you.”

The blonde frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“That little starship you arrived in.” –he says. “After we rescued you, we studied its technology, hoping to replicate it and improve our own – we couldn’t use much, not without the extraterrestrial materials it was made of…and all things considered, it was a very simple craft.”

“My dad and my uncle put it together with minutes to spare.” –Kara says. She sounds defensive, and she’s not exactly sure why. Fury’s right – the ship was pretty much a glorified escape pod.

“I know. I saw.” –Fury says. “I studied the starship’s databanks myself. I watched Krypton’s destruction.”

Something twitches in Kara’s gut, underneath her scar. Fury leans forward. “Probably goes without saying, but…I’m not shaken easily. I’ve seen humans killed in just about every way you can imagine, and a few you probably can’t.” –he says, tone carefully kept neutral. Kara believes him. “But seeing entire cities crumble to the ground, only to get violently blasted into space along with continent-sized chunks of rock and cooling lava?”

Fury shakes his head, but Kara’s a little zoned out to care. She remembers what Fury’s describing all too well, herself; the kick of liftoff against her chest as her pod blasted upwards, the skyscrapers of Argo City collapsing under their own weight as Krypton’s unstable gravity well violently fluctuated, and a final death rattle before the incomprehensibly powerful explosion that obliterated her homeworld. Kara remembers looking back and seeing entire oceans vaporizing in seconds, what were once canyons and valleys briefly shooting past the tallest mountain peaks, and the atmosphere spontaneously igniting from sheer pressure and friction.

Not a single living creature on the planet could’ve survived.

“That kind of shit changes a person.” –Fury continues. “Until you dropped out of the sky, my biggest worry had been the Cold War coming back for a much shorter, much hotter sequel, but even if nuclear apocalypse razed our civilization to the ground, some scattered pockets of humanity would survive, in all likelihood, and eventually thrive. Once I saw what happened to your planet, I realized our spot in the universe was a lot more fragile than I thought it was.”

“Krypton exploded because we mined the planet’s core with obscenely powerful gravitational engines that permanently destabilized its gravity well; humanity hasn’t even been able to drill more than a handful of miles into the Earth.” –Kara counters. “I don’t think you need to worry about anything like that for at least a few thousand years, and even then, only if your descendants make some really stupid mistakes along the way.”

“I think it’s been well established that we’re fully capable of making really stupid mistakes.” –Fury says, sarcastically.

Kara sighs. “Good point.” –she says. “I hope that’s not your attempt at an apology, though, because I will break your jaw if that’s the case.”

Fury snorts. “I’m not going to apologize for having the Kryptonite dagger made, Kara.” –he says. “Given the option, I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I think you already knew that, and I think you get why.”

She scowls once again. Fury really brings it out of her. “Because it worked, right?” –she says bitterly. “Because even though I’m practically invulnerable to everything else humanity can throw at me, that stupid green rock can kill me in seconds.”

“There’s that.” –Fury admits. “But that’s not what I meant. I think you get it because, even though the dagger almost killed you, you chose to keep it around.”

“I didn’t keep it around for you.” –she spits out. “I kept it for myself. For my own peace of mind.”

He shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me what your reason is, honestly. The important part is that you realize it’s necessary.” –he says. “And I consider everything I’ve done at the helm of S.H.I.E.L.D. to be the same, whether it was successful or not.”

“Yeah, sure; the problem is that when you’re not successful, all you’ve really done is some shady crap that we’re left to pick up the pieces for.” –Kara says, narrowing her eyes. “Face it, Nick, your methods and S.H.I.E.L.D.’s general modus operandi are getting left behind; this isn’t a spy’s game anymore! You can’t stop an alien invasion with a few bribes and a well-placed sniper! You can’t defeat a supervillain by throwing regular people with little pea-shooters at them! Rao, you can’t even protect your top-secret weapons and tech because some armored scumbag with a god complex could just open a magic portal and reach into your stupid, fancy vaults!”

She slams down her hand on a nearby steel desk, which bends to her strength like it’s made out of modeling clay. Kara half expects several squads of troopers to come into the tent, guns blazing, but no one comes – definitely not standard protocol with S.H.I.E.L.D. VIPs, which means Fury explicitly ordered against it.

He must really trust that she won’t hurt him, which…she’s not entirely sure what to think of.

Fury doesn’t comment on her outburst, nor does he react in any way other than holding her gaze. “I was terrified when Krypton was destroyed, too, but I’ve had years to come to terms with it. You know what I still can’t get over?” –she says, looming over him, feeling the heat in her eyes rise. “Victor’s cold, unfeeling eyes staring at me as he runs me through with a jagged piece of crystal.” –she hisses. “The twinge in my gut – of my scars – every goddamn time he’s mentioned, and feeling my life slip through my blood-soaked fingers as I get to watch my friends looming over me, looking at me like I’m on my deathbed.”

A red spot appears between Fury’s eyebrows – her heat vision getting away from her a little bit. To his credit, Fury seems entirely unfazed. She closes her eyes, and forces herself to take a few deep breaths, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You were on your deathbed. You very nearly died that day.” –Fury admits. “If not for Miss Luthor’s intervention, the kryptonite would’ve done it.”

“Hah. Did you feel triumphant, knowing your weapon worked?” –Kara sneers.

“Not in the moment. All I could feel then was regret.” –Fury muses.

Kara scoffs. “Oh, come on. Sell it to someone who’s buying, Nick.”

Fury rises, brushing past her. “You’re not getting it – your tendency to assume the best in people, I assume.” –he says, coldly. “I admit, you’re right about one thing: the world is only getting more dangerous, and S.H.I.E.L.D. is falling behind. Like you said, secrets and lies just don’t cut it anymore. So, let’s get honest – we’re not here to make friends, after all, we barely need to be allies to take out evil bastards like Doom and get the job done.” –he says.

The blonde rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve never considered you to be much more than a necessary evil.”

“Good. We understand each other, then.” –he says. “The truth is, any regret I felt that day was because you were going to die before you realized your full potential, Supergirl.”

The man grabs a walkie-talkie from his belt and clicks it twice. Suddenly her phone buzzes; she’s been sent a rather sizable file labelled ‘PROJECT Kr’ from an unknown number. “…what is this?”

He clasps his hands behind his back and turns to her. “You’re holding yourself back, and you don’t even realize it.” –he says. “You remember how we told you our equipment couldn’t analyze most of your biology when we tested you back in the day?” –he asks. She nods, uncertainly. “We lied. Or rather, we left out a very important detail; human technology couldn’t make sense of you, but Kryptonian technology certainly could. Part of what little equipment we could salvage from your craft was a bio-monitor, with which we were able to analyze your entire genetic makeup, mods and all, without drawing a single drop of blood.”

Kara’s eyes widen. “…that’s why you let us keep the blood I lost that day, isn’t it?” –she realizes. “You already had all the data you needed.”

Fury shrugs. “We could always use more, but that’s right.” –he says. “You’re already one of the strongest people on the planet, obviously, but the data showed us that even the most impressive benchmarks you’d set were far, far below a Kryptonian’s full capabilities.”

Kara huffs. “I get it, I hold back a lot. Tony already ran the tests when I brawled with the Hulk.”

“I’m not talking about strength, here – though you’re right, the only time you’ve used more than a fraction of it was when you kept that ship from wiping out the western seaboard.” –he says. “I’m talking about practically everything else. The flight, the speed, the goddamn freeze breath. And now that we know more about where you truly came from, it all makes sense; you’re built to take on a universe that’s a lot more dangerous than ours seems to be.”