Inheritance of ash

Fault Lines

Morning came far too early for everyone. The tower was buzzing in that strange, pre-mission way—half an odd sort of family breakfast, half military staging ground. Despite everything from the night before, HYDRA wasn't going to wait for their drama to settle. The kitchen felt almost claustrophobic with so many bodies moving around, the low hum of overlapping conversations and the sharp clinks of cutlery filling the space.

Tony was at the stove, actually cooking—well, sort of. Most of the counter was taken up by an alarming spread of Pepper's pregnancy cravings: pickles, chocolate-covered pretzels, a jar of olives, and something suspiciously like a peanut butter and jalapeño sandwich. Pepper sat nearby with a look of pure amusement and mild concern as Tony tried to plate things like it was fine dining.

Clint and Kate were at it in the corner, voices just loud enough to cut through the room. Clint had one hand on the counter, leaning in, trying to make his point stick.

"You're not in the right mindset," he said for what had to be the third time.

Kate crossed her arms, fire in her eyes. "And you think sitting here sulking is better for me? I'm fine, Clint."

"You're not fine," Clint shot back, his jaw tight. "I'll stay here with you."

Kate's expression darkened. "No. Yelena doesn't get to take this from me. Neither do you."

The tension between them was sharp enough to cut, and even Thor—who normally thrived on noise—slowed his chewing to watch.

Steve stepped in before it could escalate further, his voice calm but carrying that "final word" weight. "Kate comes," he said, looking between them. "But she sticks to either you or me. No exceptions."

Kate's lips pressed into a thin line. "Deal."

Vicky noticed how Kate's posture shifted almost immediately after—shoulders squaring, chin lifting. Like she'd decided that whatever storm was in her chest, it wasn't going to drag her back into the ghost she'd been when Yelena left. Wanda, however, didn't take her eyes off Kate, watching every flicker of her expression like she was ready to step in at the first crack.

Vicky didn't want to crowd her, so she drifted toward Peter instead. He was leaning against the fridge, hair sticking up like he hadn't quite finished waking up. She teased him about it until he rolled his eyes and offered her the last slice of toast in his hand.

Across the room, Natasha was a ghost of herself—present, but quieter than usual, her eyes a little too shadowed. She hadn't touched her coffee. Everyone knew Yelena was still in her old room and that she wasn't coming on this mission. Nobody said it out loud, but it hung there in the air, unspoken and heavy.

Bucky crossed to Natasha, his steps slow, and leaned in so only she could hear. "Is she okay?"

Natasha's voice was low and flat. "I don't know."

Before the quiet could settle too deep, Thor broke it, booming with excitement about the mission. "Another glorious battle to be had!"

He slapped Steve on the back hard enough to make the Captain shift his stance.

"Quiet down," Bruce muttered from behind his mug, not even looking up.

Final checks started happening naturally—gear being adjusted, weapons inspected, the sharp clink of buckles and zippers cutting through the background noise. Everyone was sliding into their mission selves, the energy in the room changing from messy domestic chaos into something sharper, more focused. They said goodbye to Pepper, Tony kissing her belly and offering a smug grin. She rolled her eyes and kissed him good luck.