Jay materialized back at the Baxter Building in a ripple of blue energy with a soft sound like displaced air.

  The conference room felt too small for the tension it held. Jay found himself facing the waiting faces that turned toward him immediately.

  Steve stood near the window, arms crossed. Natasha leaned against the wall, eyes sharp. Clint sat with his feet propped on the table, bow resting nearby. Fury dominated the center, fingers steepled. Maria Hill stood at his shoulder, tablet ready. Coulson hovered near the door, still looking faintly surprised to be alive.

  The silence stretched for exactly three seconds.

  "What?" Jay asked.

  Natasha pushed off the wall. "Spill."

  "The Power Broker himself moved to help some vigilante?" Clint's grin was all teeth. "That's something you don't see every day."

  Steve's expression softened with curiosity. "Spidey, you called him. You seemed to recognize him. Is he someone important?"

  Jay caught the eagerness in their faces. The way they leaned forward slightly. The hunger for information that defined SHIELD agents down to their bones.

  He gave them his classiest smile. The one that said absolutely nothing while looking perfectly pleasant.

  "All I'll say is this." Jay moved toward the conference table but didn't sit. Stood with his hands in his pockets, casual but immovable. His eyes found Fury. "Leave him alone. Let the kid have a life of his own without SHIELD breathing down his neck."

  Fury's jaw tightened. His single eye blazed with the familiar frustration of a spymaster being denied intelligence. "Jay, if there's a powered individual that could pique your interest operating in New York..."

  "Then that's his business." Jay's tone stayed light, but something underneath it wasn't. "Not SHIELD's. His."

  "We have protocols for ..."

  "Fury."

  Just the name.

  Flat and final.

  The director's mouth snapped shut.

  But Jay could see it. The way Fury's fingers tapped once against the table. The slight tension in Steve's shoulders. The calculating look in Natasha's eyes. They'd listen to him now, in this room, with him standing here. But the moment he left? SHIELD would do what SHIELD always did.

  Investigate. Catalog. Try to recruit.

  Steve's expression shifted. Understanding, maybe.

  Fury said nothing. Which was its own kind of answer.

  Jay smoothly redirected. "So the Hydra mission. You're launching a coordinated attack in a month, correct? Give everyone time to deal with the Chitauri aftermath properly first."

  Steve nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "A month gives us time to coordinate with international agencies. Ensure we hit every cell simultaneously."

  "Xavier will have the complete list by then," Coulson added. "Every name, location and financial connection."

  "Good." Jay stretched, his body still protesting despite the healing. "Because after this, I'm done with the on-call hero thing. You want cosmic-level intervention, call someone else."

  The room went very quiet.

  Clint's feet came off the table. Natasha's eyes sharpened. Even Steve looked surprised.

  "What he means..." Hill started.

  "I mean exactly what I said." Jay's voice stayed level. "I helped with Loki because the situation was critical. Mass death and world stability threatening. But I'm not joining the Avengers. I'm not becoming SHIELD's go-to for enhanced threats. Find someone else for that."

  "Like Carol Danvers?"

  The words came out before Jay could stop them.

  Bitter. Sharper than he intended.

  The temperature in the room dropped.

  Fury's face did something complicated. Red crept up his neck, and for once, the legendary spymaster looked genuinely uncomfortable. "She was part of a classified mission in '95. You know that's ancient history."

  "Ancient history that showed up here demanding the Space Stone," Jay said. Each word deliberate and controlled. "After the invasion ended. After twelve hundred people died. Where was she when we needed her? When the Chitauri were tearing through Manhattan, and its civilians?"

  Coulson stepped forward, his diplomatic training kicking in. "Captain Marvel was needed off-world when the invasion began. The communication delay meant she couldn't..."

  "She couldn't make it in time. I know. I heard the bullshit excuse." Jay's eyes fixed on Fury. "But she made it in time to question my teacher. To antagonize Domino. To demand access to something that's none of her business."

  The room had gone deathly quiet. Even Clint looked uncomfortable.

  "Where is she now?" Jay asked. "Still off-world? Still too busy with alien problems to deal with Earth?"

  Coulson's expression remained diplomatically neutral, but his voice carried careful weight. "Captain Marvel detected increased Black Order activity in the Andromeda sector. She felt it was urgent enough to investigate personally. She mentioned something about Thanos's forces being more active than usual."

  Maria's voice was steady, professional. "According to Captain Danvers, she got her powers from the Tesseract. She has a... connection to it. She wanted to ensure its safety after the invasion. That's all."

  "That's all?" Jay repeated the words flatly. "She felt entitled to an Infinity Stone because she absorbed some of its energy decades ago. Felt entitled to march in and make demands. And you're defending her."

  "We're not defending anyone," Steve said, his Captain America voice in full effect. "We're explaining the situation."

  "No. You're making excuses for someone who wasn't here when it mattered." Jay's control slipped, just slightly. "Twelve hundred people died, Steve. I brought them back, but they still died. They still experienced death. And your cosmic heavy-hitter couldn't be bothered to show up."

  Fury's hands pressed flat against the table. "Danvers is handling threats that would make the Chitauri look like a warmup act. She's protecting Earth by stopping problems before they reach us."

  "Is she." Jay's voice had gone cold. "Or is she avoiding Earth because she's more comfortable with aliens than humans?"

  The accusation hung in the air.

  Natasha spoke for the first time since the Carol topic started. "You're angry."

  "I'm tired."

  Jay corrected. Then took a breath. The room watched him wrestle his composure back into place.

  "One month," Jay said finally. "I'll help with Hydra because it needs to be done properly. After that, I'm out. Find your own cavalry."

  He turned toward the door.

  Behind him, Fury's voice carried quiet intensity. "Jay wait."

  Jay stopped but didn't turn around.

  "Thank you," Fury said. "For everything. For the people you brought back. For stopping Loki."

  He paused.

  Jay looked back over his shoulder.

  "You're welcome," Jay said. Then, softer. "But don't expect me to make a habit of it."

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  He walked out.

  The door closed behind him. The room stayed quiet for a long moment.

  "Well," Clint said finally. "That was fun. Who wants to bet Fury runs a full investigation on Spider-Kid before the week's out?"

  Fury's glare could have melted steel. "Stand down, Barton."

  "That's not a no, boss."

  Steve moved to the window, looking out at the Manhattan skyline. "He's right, you know. About Carol. About us expecting too much from people who show up to help."

  "Doesn't matter," Fury said, standing. "We've got one month to prepare the largest coordinated strike in SHIELD history. Get to work."

  But as the team filed out, Fury remained at the window.

  --------------------------------------------------

  Jay found Domino, Reed, Sue, and Franklin in the common area. The baby was fussing, that particular cry that meant tired but fighting sleep. Sue rocked him with the practiced motion of a new parent running on three hours of rest.

  The goodbyes took longer than expected.

  Most of it was Franklin.

  Jay held the baby for the third time that day, the tiny weight solid and real in his arms. Franklin's crying quieted almost immediately, his small body relaxing against Jay's chest. Those unfocused blue eyes blinked up at him.

  "You take care of your parents, little man," Jay whispered. "They're going to need you."

  Franklin's small hand wrapped around Jay's finger with infant strength.

  "He always calms down for you," Sue said, watching them.

  "He's special," Jay said.

  Reed moved closer, his expression serious. "Jay, about the spaceship designs. I've compiled the preliminary schematics. The theoretical framework, the propulsion systems, the hull composition." He pulled out a data chip. "It's all here."

  Jay took the chip, turning it over in his free hand. "How long?"

  "A month if everything goes perfectly. Six weeks realistically." Reed's voice carried his scientist's honesty. "The materials alone will be challenging to source. And testing the systems before you take it into deep space... that's non-negotiable. I won't send you out there in something that might fail."

  "A month, huh?" Jay processed that.

  Jay nodded slowly. He handed Franklin back to Sue, the baby immediately protesting the transfer with a whimper before settling against his mother's familiar heartbeat.

  "Thank you," Jay said, pocketing the data chip. "For everything. For the ship. For being..." He struggled with the words. "For being family."

  Sue's eyes went bright with tears. She shifted Franklin to one arm and hugged Jay with the other. "You are family. Don't forget that."

  Blue energy gathered. The familiar sensation of space folding around him and Domino, reality bending to his will.

  Space folded.

  They vanished.

  ---------------------------------------------

  The Savage Land base materialized around them. Tropical heat replaced New York's autumn chill. The familiar hum of climate control systems filled the silence.

  The living quarters were exactly as they'd left them a week ago. Warm lighting that mimicked sunset. Comfortable furniture that looked out of place against the high-tech walls. Their bed. Oversized, with pillows Domino had insisted on and blankets Jay ran hot enough not to need but kept anyway because she liked them.

  Jay made it to the bed before his legs gave out.

  Domino caught him, her enhanced reflexes making it look easy. But Jay felt the strain in her arms. The way her breathing quickened slightly. He was heavier than he looked, and catching dead weight took effort even for her.

  "Whoa there. Easy, babe."

  "Sorry." His voice came out rough. "Thought I had a few more steps in me."

  "You're exhausted as hell." She steered him the last few feet, and they collapsed onto the mattress together in a controlled fall that was half-sit, half-collapse. Jay ended up flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

  Domino on her side, pressed against him.

  His body felt heavy. Like he was wearing a suit of lead. The week in a coma had taken more out of him than he'd admitted.

  So much had happened.

  Meeting the Queen of Nevers and Lady Death. Waking from a week-long coma. Kamar-Taj negotiations with Thor. The trip to Asgard and that tense confrontation with Odin. Fury actually saying thank you. Meeting Spider-Man himself.

  The memories blurred together. Fragmented. His mind kept jumping between moments. Frigga's magic binding him, Peter's terrified voice asking "how do you know my name," Thor's weak sense of a fair deal and The Ancient One's approval over his growth.

  "Hey." Domino's voice pulled him back. Her hand settled on his chest. Right over his heart. "You're doing that thing where you disappear into your own head. Stop."

  "Sorry," Jay's voice sounded distant even to himself.

  He lost the sentence. Couldn't hold onto it.

  "Let me feel your heartbeat," she said softly. "It's been a whole week. Just... let me check you're really here."

  She stopped.

  Her fingers found his necklace. The chain he'd worn since she'd known him. Her hand moved along it, checking each trinket with the careful attention of someone confirming reality.

  The deformed bullet. The vibranium piece from the museum she stole it from. The...

  She stopped.

  The quarter was gone.

  Domino pulled back slightly, her fingers still on the chain, feeling the empty space where the quarter should have been. Her eyebrow raised in silent question.

  "Jay." Her voice was careful. "Where's the quarter?"

  Jay smiled. The expression of someone caught doing something they weren't supposed to.

  "Oh, the quarter. Yeah. I gifted it to someone."

  "You what?" Domino sat up properly, and the movement jolted Jay slightly. "But Jay, you... you were obsessed with that thing. You checked it every morning and took it everywhere." Her voice rose slightly. "Even after we got together. Even when you had me."

  Jay's mood dipped. The smile faded. His eyes went distant, seeing something that wasn't in the room.

  A fifteen-year-old kid standing on a rooftop, terrified and brave and so damn young.

  Too young for any of this.

  Then he smiled again. Softer this time. Sad around the edges.

  "I gave it to someone who needed it more than me."

  "And who the hell might that be?"

  "A kid who's gonna be the Poster Boy of superheroes."

  Domino's expression shifted from confusion to understanding. "Spider-Man. You gave it to Peter Parker."

  "Yeah."

  "Why?" She wasn't angry. Just trying to understand. "That quarter... Jay, I know what it meant to you. The luck. The symbol. Why give it away?"

  Jay closed his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

  "Because he's fifteen. Fifteen years old with powers he didn't ask for and a hero complex that's going to get him killed. His family almost died because he was out playing superhero. And he's going to do it again. I saw it in his eyes. The guilt. The need to prove he can save everyone."

  He opened his eyes, looking at Domino.

  "I couldn't help myself. He reminded me of..." He stopped. "He needs every advantage he can get. And I can make my own luck now. I have you."

  Domino studied him for a long moment. Then she lay back down, pressed against his side.

  "Well, I guess that was inevitable. You wouldn't shut up about Parker luck when you were telling me his story. And after seeing those videos of him helping civilians..." She trailed off. "I get why."

  "But I told him not to be a hero," Jay said quietly. "At least indirectly."

  "Did the kid listen?"

  "No."

  Jay's laugh was bitter.

  Domino hummed, her hand still over his heart, feeling its rhythm. "It's still wild thinking in your world, people worship Batman despite him using child soldiers. Your reality has weird-ass priorities."

  "Yeah." Jay's smile was genuine now. "Yeah, we are."

  But Domino's eyes kept drifting to the empty space where the quarter used to be. Her fingers traced the chain, feeling its absence.

  The loss bothered her more than she wanted to admit. That quarter had been part of their story. A constant.

  And now it was gone.

  Jay noticed her fingers still tracing the empty space on the chain. The gesture spoke of worry, of loss, of understanding something had shifted and couldn't be taken back.

  He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her. The movement took effort. His muscles protested. But he did it anyway, needing the contact, needing to prove to both of them that he was still here.

  His lips found her ear, voice dropping to something low and intimate.

  "The quarter was lucky," he murmured against her skin. "But it was just a thing. A symbol." His arms tightened slightly. "Who needs it when I've got the lady luck whole to myself."

  Domino shivered.

  The good kind. The anticipatory kind.

  But also the vulnerable kind. The kind that came from being scared and relieved and exhausted all at once.

  Her hands found his face, turning him toward her. "You're terrible, you know that?"

  "You love it."

  "I really fucking do."

  She kissed him. Soft at first. Testing. Confirming he was solid and real and breathing.

  Jay kissed her back with the same gentleness. His body was too tired for anything more. Too heavy.

  But this... this he could do.

  They stayed like that for a while. Kissing slowly. Touching carefully. Two people who'd been apart for a week relearning each other's presence.

  "You scared the hell out of me," Domino whispered against his lips when they finally broke apart. Her voice cracked slightly. "A whole week. You just... you were there but not there. Kept waiting for you to wake up and you didn't and..."

  Her voice broke completely. Her forehead pressed against his, and Jay felt moisture on his cheek that wasn't his own.

  "I thought you weren't coming back," she whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."

  "I know." Jay's hands moved to her face, wiping away tears with his thumbs. "I'm sorry. I didn't... I didn't know it would take that long. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

  "Don't be sorry." She pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes were red, wet, fierce. "Just don't do it again. Don't leave me like that again."

  "Can't promise that." His voice was raw. Honest. "You know I can't."

  "Then promise me this." Her hands gripped his face, forcing him to maintain eye contact. "Promise that you'll fight to come back. Every time. No matter what. Promise you'll try."

  Jay's hands covered hers. "I promise. Always. I'll always try."

  Domino kissed him again. Harder this time. Desperate. Her hands moved from his face to his shoulders, gripping tight enough to hurt.

  "Come here," he said softly.

  Domino shifted, and Jay guided her to lie on top of him. Her weight settled across his chest, her head tucking under his chin. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close despite the fatigue making everything heavy.

  "I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "I'm right here. Feel my heartbeat. Feel me breathing. I'm here, Domino. I came back."

  Her hands fisted in his shirt. Her breathing hitched once, twice.

  Then she relaxed incrementally, her body molding to his, her ear pressed over his heart to hear its steady rhythm.

  "Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please. I can't... I don't know how to do this without you anymore."

  Jay's arms tightened. "I'm not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. I'm right here."

  They stayed like that. Jay's hands moving in slow, soothing patterns across her back. Domino's breathing gradually evening out as exhaustion and relief finally caught up with her.

  "I love you," she mumbled against his chest. Half-asleep. Vulnerable in a way she only was with him.

  "I love you too," Jay whispered back. "More than anything in this world."

  Sleep crept in around the edges. The exhaustion of the day finally catching up with both of them.

  Jay's breathing evened out first, consciousness slipping away.

  Domino stayed awake a bit longer. Memorizing the feel of him. The warmth. The solid reality of his presence.

  He'd kept his promise. He'd come back.

  She intended to make sure he always did.

  Her eyes drifted closed. The rhythm of his heartbeat lulled her toward sleep.

  Tomorrow they'd deal with the world again. With cosmic entities and alien invasions and whatever other insanity waited around the corner.

  Tonight was just theirs.

  The Savage Land base hummed its mechanical lullaby. Outside, the prehistoric world continued its eternal cycle.

  Inside, two people who'd found each other in a universe of infinite possibilities slept.

  Together.

  Safe and home.