" So who do we talk to about this? "
+
*5 years later*
"Yeah, we boarded that highly suspect warship that Danvers pinged."
A few of the Avengers stood in the middle of the compound, their holographic forms staring straight at Natasha who sat anxiously at her desk, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich resting on a plate beside her.
"It was an infectious garbage scowl." Nebula adds on to Rocket's comment.
"So, thanks for the hot tip." The talking raccoon glares over at Captain Marvel who responds with a tedious smirk.
"Well, you were closer."
"Yeah. And we smell like garbage."
Natasha turns to Okoye, "you get a reading on those tremors?"
"It was a mild subduction under the African plate." The Wakandan warrior responds.
"Do we have a visual? How are we handling it?" The red-head retorts.
"Nat, it's an earthquake under the ocean. We handle it by not handling it." Okoye answers.
The woman turns to Captain Marvel, "Carol, are we seeing you here next month?"
"Not likely."
Rocket turns to her, "what, you gonna get a new haircut?"
Carol, her face contorting to a look of irritation, speaks, "Listen fur-face, I'm covering a lot of territory. The things that are happening on Earth, are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets."
"That's a good point. That's a good point." The animal murmurs.
"So you might not see me for a long time." Danvers adds.
"Alright. Uh, well. This channel is always active. So, anything goes sideways... anyone's making trouble where they shouldn't... comes through me." Nat states.
Then, after a goodbye, one by one the superheroes all leave the chat until the only person left was Rhodey. He frowns as hensees Natasha let out an aggravated sigh, plopping down onto her desk chair. The woman smiles slightly as she notices the man staring at her.
"Where are you?" She questions.
"Mexico. The federales found a room filled with bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys. Never even had the chance to get their guns off." Rhodey responds.
"It's probably a rival gang." Black Widow murmurs.
"Who knows?" James Rhodes shrugs, watching on as Natasha tears up, stifling her sobs with a bite of her sandwich.
"Have you seen her lately?" She questions, her voice cracking.
"No. I'm keeping tabs on her, though. She's doing fine, living down in California, right by the beach." A ghost of a smile appears on Rhodey's lips as he thought of the girl he's known since she was young.
"Will you visit her? Ask her to visit?" She asks hopefully.
"Nat.. she's still-"
"Please."
"Okay." And with that simple statement, Rhodes cuts off, and the dread immediately setting in as Natasha breaks down, her head in her hands as she cries her heart out for the fallen.
"You know I'd offer to cook you dinner but you seem pretty miserable already." Steve, slumped against a bookshelf, speaks up with a subtle smile as he watches Nat brush tears from her face.
"You here to do your laundry?" She questions sarcastically.
"And to see a friend."
"Clearly, your friend is fine." The red-head retorts, an obvious lie.
"You know I saw a pod of whales when I was coming up the bridge." Steve walks over to her desk, a small smile tugging at the corner's of her lips.
"In the Hudson?"
"There's fewer ships, cleaner water." He adds.
"You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side. Um... I'm about you to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich." Her lips upturn into a half smile, Steve's doing the same.
"Sorry. Force of habit." He responds, throwing down his jacket before sitting down on another empty chair. "You know, I keep telling everyone they should move on and... grow. Some do. But not us."
"If I move on, who does this?" She gestures towards her cluttered desk.
"Maybe it doesn't need to be done." Steve replies gently.
Natasha, deep in thought, speaks, "I used to have nothing. Then I got this. This job... this family, I raised a little girl. And I was... I was better because of it. And even though... they're gone... I'm still trying to be better."
"We both need to get a life." The blond man chuckles.
She smiles, "you first."
Then suddenly camera footage pops up in front of them, showing Scott Lang with his Quantum Realm Van behind him. "Uh... Hi. Hi! Is anyone home? This is Scott Lang. We met a few years ago, at the airport? In Germany? I got really big, and I had my mask on. You wouldn't recognize me."
Steve, glancing at the security camera with furrowed browns, questions, "is this old footage?"
Natasha, peering as well, "it's at the front gate."
-
"Scott. Are you okay?" Steve Rogers questions the quivering superhero beside him as they had rushed him inside to confirm it wasn't some fever dream.
"Yeah. I'm fine." He seems hesitant, almost as if trying to muster up the courage to ask a question. With a few stutters and a sigh, Ant-Man finally blurts out his dilemma, "Have you ever studied Quantum Physics?"
"Only to make conversation." Nat retorts sarcastically.
"Alright. So... five years ago, right before Thanos, I was in a place called the Quantum Realm. The Quantum Realm is like its own microscopic universe. To get in there, you have to be incredibly small. Hope, she's my... She was my..." Scott trips over his next words, treading carefully on their labels, "She was supposed to pull me out. And then Thanos happened, and I got stuck in there."
"I'm sorry." Apologizes Black Widow, "That must've been a very long five years."
"Yeah, but that's just it. It wasn't. For me, it was five hours."
The two original Avengers share a bewildered glance, skeptical of Scott's rushed banter. "See, the rules of the Quantum Realm aren't like they are up here. Everything is unpredictable. Is that anybody's sandwich?" He points towards the half eaten meal on Nat's desk before grabbing ahold of it, "I'm starving."
"Scott, what are you talking about?" Coaxes Cap.
"What I'm saying is, time works differently in the Quantum Realm. The only problem is right now, we don't have a way to navigate it. But what if we did? I can't stop thinking about it. What if, we could somehow control the chaos, and we could navigate it? What if there was a way to enter the Quantum Realm at a certain point in time but then exit at another point in time? Like... Like before Thanos." Explains Scott, looking hopefully towards his hero companions.
"Wait, are you talking about a time machine?" Questions Steve.
The raven haired man shakes his head, "No. No, of course not. No, not a time machine. It's more like a... Yeah, a time machine. I know it's crazy. But I can't stop thinking about it. There's gotta be some way... There's gotta be...some w... it's crazy."
"Scott," starts Natasha with a small smirk, "I get e-mails from a raccoon, so nothing sounds crazy anymore."
"So who do we talk to about this?"
It's a feeling all too natural for Rowan; the sudden displeasure erupting in the depths of her gut, twisting her organs and knotting them in a giant clump of nerves. Walking back to her Santa Monica home, hair matted with salt water, a mess of chestnut brown that's grown way too long, a surfboard tucked snug under her arm and skin subtly kissed with the years of surfing taken up; she felt it. That feeling. One she hasn't felt in five years.
Treading lightly, eyes darting around for any sight of danger, she makes her way up the sandy path that conveniently lead to her million dollar home that was so generously paid for by her father; a surprising deal deeming as he was further than happy to be five thousand miles from his eldest daughter, but nevertheless greatly appreciated.
Her breath remains steady despite her rapid heart beat, the girl knowing that if she were to panic, it would only egg her intruder on; the smell of fear practically leaking from each pore as she approaches the entrance of her home to spot an unfamiliar black sports car parked in front of it. She sets her board down on the ground, feeling quite vulnerable seeing as she'd just come from a round of surfing; a mid-sleeve wet suit top and a black bikini bottom not seeming like the best combat attire at the moment.
Before she could take another step, the doors of the car open. Rowan jumps back slightly, her powers taking a second to emerge as they'd been stowed away for a good half of a decade as she immediately holds up her palms for a quick energy burst. But, when the three intruders finally reveal themselves; the faces of whom she hadn't seen in a long time, she hesitates. Rowan gulps, knees trembling, heart soaring with an ache she hadn't felt in a while; a sudden burst of overwhelming joy that consumes her whole being, the nauseas knot suddenly untying itself with a release of pure bliss.
She laughs happily, a smile upturning her latter scowl. The three returning the gesture, the blond and the red head seeming to light up at the sight of their little girl all grown up. The Stark runs over, arms open wide, as she engulfs Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff in a tight hug; longing and happiness embedded in the gesture.
"What are you guys doing here?!" She cries happily, nodding her head at the man standing meekly behind her two guardians, "Scott."
"Rowan." He coughs awkwardly, shuffling slightly, feeling like the odd man out. "you look uh... tall."
"It's been what? Five years?" Rowan returns her attention to the two heroes in front of her. "How are you guys? Bruce? Thor? Is Clint doing okay?"
The two original avengers steal a knowing glance at each other, Steve letting out a sigh as Rowan raises a brow questioningly.
"You know that's anatomically, physically and mentally impossible, right?" Rowan Stark peers at the three who sat around her dining room table. She dries her hair with a towel, wiping down her uv ray kissed skin before tossing it aside, "the only reason Lang came back was because of some cosmic fluke. It's a billion to one chance and you're really willing to risk all of our lives for some sort of... leverage?"
"It's not leverage, Row-" begins Steve, "it's a chance to go back and get the stones before Thanos has the chance to even think about them."
The brunette scans the three, her doe browns landing on the specific superhero who's most likely responsible for this fiasco of open hopes that'll only end up in crushed dreams. "What do you got to say for yourself, hot shot?"
"I uh- I mean, I came back... and I'm still alive and well... for the most part-"
"And that's where I'm going to stop you." The twenty-three year old brunette silently walks over to the kitchen, grabbing an apple and holding it up. "You see this apple?" The three superheroes watch quizzically as she turns towards a blender sitting on her counter. She drops the fruit into the machine, turning it on, and watching her friends as its red flesh turns to mush. "Yeah. That'll be us when we're sucked and smashed by trillions of cosmic particles moving as a mile a second."
"Rowan-" begins Natasha with a sigh, "I know you have a lot to risk right now. You're living the bachelorette life, worried about nothing, you've got your dad and your little sister, but this is our chance... our chance to get our friends... your boyfriend back."
Rowan flinches at the mention of the boy of whom captured her heart those five years ago, a memory still so fresh in the front of her brain; a happy nostalgia that crushes her heart with each reminder that he's no longer by her side. A twinge of longing stirs up a frenzy in her gut, the possibility of reuniting with the boy she loves igniting a spark in the depths of her belly; a spark just catching the corner of the dull leaves, the beginning to a huge brush fire that'd soon burn acres.
The Stark grips the granite countertop, a thick silence hanging over the quartet as the three older heroes await her answer. Rowan shakes her head, a frown downturning her full lips as she faces the two she loves most in this world. "I wish you guys came under any other circumstances. But, it just won't work and we know it. You three are more than welcome to stay and make yourselves at home, but I'm sure you have a long drive back."
And with one last glance, ignoring the protests from Steve, she walks away.