Inheritance of ash

Fault Lines

Within minutes, they were ready to move out. Only Pepper, Valkyrie and Yelena would remain behind in the tower. And no one—not even Natasha—said anything about it.

⸻

In the Quinjet, the air felt heavy with that familiar, pre-mission stillness — the kind where everyone's mind was split between the briefing and their own silent calculations.

Steve's voice carried over the low hum of the engines. "We don't know what's inside. We don't know if HYDRA's holding civilians or if this is just another storage site. No hero moves unless you're sure — understood?"

A chorus of nods and mumbled "Yeah"s followed.

Kate leaned back in her seat, arms crossed, legs bouncing ever so slightly. She was sitting next to Clint, deliberately mirroring his posture just enough to annoy him. Her jaw was set, eyes sharp, like she had already decided she would not so much as stumble. Proving herself wasn't just about showing Clint — it was about showing everyone that the conversation from last night didn't define her.

Vicky was wedged between Peter and Bucky on the opposite bench. Bucky, relaxed in that casual way that made him seem almost out of place on missions, leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "If we don't go to a pancake place after this, I'm starting a riot."

Vicky tilted her head, smirking. "That's your big plan to defeat HYDRA? Threaten them with brunch?"

Peter grinned under his mask. "I'd join the riot. But only if there's whipped cream."

Bucky gave him a disgusted look. "Whipped cream on pancakes is just wrong."

"That's it," Peter shot back, mock-offended, "I'm switching teams. I'll fight with HYDRA before I take that slander."

Steve's sharp "Eyes forward" cut the banter short, his gaze a laser. Bucky smirked faintly, then pressed on just to be annoying.

"You know, it's hard to keep 'em forward when you're this pretty, Stevie."

Steve gave him a firm glare, let out a heavy sigh and then turned back to Natasha. But a small smile played on his lips anyway.

From across the cabin, Tony leaned back in his seat, hands drumming against his thigh. "Alright, in case I die in some fiery blaze of glory —"

"This again?" Sam muttered.

"— someone please, for the love of all things Stark, make sure Pepper does not name our kid Gertrude. Or Samantha. Or anything with a silent Q."

Vicky raised her hand solemnly. "I swear on my life I won't let it happen."

Tony gave her a two-finger salute. "Good kid."

Meanwhile, Pietro had decided this was the perfect time to show Wanda his "new technique" — essentially speed-punching the air in a blur so fast it made a small draft. Wanda didn't even flinch anymore; she just adjusted her hair, gave him a small, unimpressed smile, and murmured,

"Still sloppy with your left hand."

Steve wrapped up the briefing, emphasizing the importance of communication, and Vision, ever calm and precise, chimed in with a quiet, "That is a sound approach, Captain."

Natasha, who'd been silent the whole ride, finally spoke, looking first at Wanda, then at Vicky. "Stay by me. No wandering." Her tone left no room for argument.

Steve turned his gaze to Peter and Pietro. "You two are with me."

Peter gave a thumbs up. Pietro groaned but didn't protest — too much.