As the dust settled and the last echoes of combat faded into the distance, the atmosphere shifted from tense to downright casual. It was like flipping a switch—the adrenaline-induced high of battle giving way to the familiar, easy camaraderie that the Avengers had mastered over the years. Hawkeye was already sidling up to Harry, his face wearing that trademark smirk that said I'm about to ruin your day with a joke.
"Hey, Seidr," Clint said, his voice oozing sarcasm, "next time you're pulling out something as cool as that lightsaber of yours, give us a heads-up, would ya? I mean, I thought I had a monopoly on cool weapons, but now we've got a glowing sword. Really? What's next? Are you gonna start levitating?"
Harry shot him a look, his grin never faltering. "Consider it my secret weapon," he replied, swiping a hand through his hair in that casual way that made it look like he didn't just finish mowing down a dozen HYDRA agents. "Keeps the enemies on their toes."
Before Clint could make another snide remark, Tony's voice crackled over the comms, impossibly smooth and dripping with mock disbelief. "Hold up," Tony interrupted, the hint of sarcasm thick in his words. "Did I just hear that right? We've got a Jedi in the squad now? And here I thought I'd seen every variation of cool."
Harry couldn't help but laugh. Honestly, who wouldn't? The team banter was what made all the life-threatening missions and near-death experiences worth it. "Sorry to disappoint, Stark," Harry shot back, his voice practically oozing playful confidence. "Maybe next time, I'll give you a private demo. Lightsaber show and tell. You can bring popcorn."
Tony's laughter boomed through the comms, deep and genuine. "Oh, I'm so there for that," he quipped. "In fact, I'm already drafting up plans for a brand-new lightsaber-proof suit. You know, just in case."
JARVIS, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with his usual deadpan tone. "I'm afraid, sir, that none of your current designs include protection against laser swords or anything resembling them. Perhaps it's best you let Mr. Potter handle that... for now."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, JARVIS," Harry said dryly, enjoying the mental image of Stark trying to create a lightsaber-proof suit—something that would no doubt involve a ridiculous amount of tech and even more sarcasm. "But I'm pretty sure I can handle this particular brand of danger."
Clint leaned in, his voice lowering as he gave Harry an exaggerated once-over. "You're definitely handling it, man. Can't say I wasn't impressed." He shot a glance toward Natasha, who was still methodically disarming any remaining HYDRA agents, her sharp eyes scanning for any threats. "Though, I'm not sure you've outdone her yet."
Natasha, as usual, wasn't fazed by the banter. "I think we've all learned by now not to trust the pretty ones with weapons," she said, giving Clint a pointed look as she flipped a knife from her wrist holster and effortlessly pinned the last of the HYDRA goons to the ground.
"Ouch," Clint muttered, rubbing his chest as if she'd shot him with an arrow. "Not cool, Nat."
"Guess that makes me the pretty one now, huh?" Harry said with a wicked grin, crossing his arms and enjoying Clint's discomfort.
"Hey, I'm not arguing that," Clint replied, winking at Harry. "I'll let you be the pretty one... for now."
Meanwhile, Steve's voice cut through the comms, calm and commanding. "Focus up, people. We're not done yet. HYDRA's still got a lot to answer for, and we've got a long way to go."
"Yeah, yeah, Captain Killjoy," Tony muttered, though you could hear the faintest edge of concern in his voice. "We'll get it done. But first—Harry, can we talk about that whole glowing sword thing later? I think the world might be ready for a new Avengers recruit."
"Don't worry, Stark," Harry replied, already turning his attention back to the mission at hand. "I'll make sure you get a front-row seat when I show off my full range of magical abilities."
Natasha shot him a raised eyebrow. "Full range? You mean the stuff you haven't shown us yet?"
"Oh, you have no idea," Harry teased. "But let's save that for the real grand finale."
Clint let out a dramatic sigh. "I swear, we're like a dysfunctional family," he muttered. "And I'm the one stuck babysitting the shiny new guy with the fancy sword."
"Yeah, well, somebody's gotta make sure you don't shoot the wrong guy," Harry shot back, his grin widening at Clint's deadpan expression.
Clint shot him a finger gun. "Touche, Potter. Touche."
With a final, sweeping glance at the battlefield, Harry felt the familiar weight of the mission return. The lighthearted banter had worked its magic, distracting them for a moment, but now it was time to finish the job. HYDRA was still out there, lurking in the shadows, and Harry wasn't about to let them get away with it.
But before he could say anything, Tony's voice echoed again, this time with a hint of something approaching genuine concern—which was rare for Tony Stark.
"Alright, I'm gonna be serious for a second. HYDRA's been getting bolder, and that's never a good sign. But we've got this, right? We've got you, Harry."
Harry gave a smirk, leaning back slightly as he adjusted the grip on his glowing sword. "Of course, you've got me. Who else could handle all this coolness?"
"Don't answer that," Natasha muttered, already moving toward the next objective. "Let's just get this over with."
And with that, the Avengers, united by banter and purpose, readied themselves for the next phase of the mission—prepared to wipe out HYDRA once and for all.
—
As the last of the HYDRA goons were getting carted off by SHIELD's cleanup crew—seriously, who had to mop up after these guys?—there was a sudden shift in the air. A loud thrum of engines pierced the silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of boots hitting the dirt with military precision. And just like that, boom, in walked the Sokovian Armed Forces Team, EKO Scorpion, led by none other than Baron Helmut Zemo. Because, of course, Zemo had to show up.
If you thought the Avengers were already a tough crew, adding EKO Scorpion was like upgrading your internet connection to fiber optic when you'd been using dial-up. The energy was electric. The HYDRA stragglers didn't know what hit them, and neither did the Avengers, at first. I mean, no one expected this.
Zemo, ever the dramatic one, strolled into the fray like he was walking the red carpet at the Oscars. He offered a crisp salute, the kind that probably came with a long speech in his head about honor and revenge. "Baron Helmut Zemo, at your service," he said with that practiced air of someone who could take over the world if given half a chance. "I must say, it's an honor to team up with such legendary heroes."
Tony Stark's voice cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter. "Another Baron? What, is this a royal collection now? Should I start collecting them? A Baron here, a Baron there, maybe throw in a Count for variety?"
Clint, ever the accomplice in Tony's snarky schemes, chimed in with a grin. "And don't forget about the Dukes, Tony. Got a few of those tucked away?"
Steve Rogers, who had already adopted his 'I'm in charge, but don't worry, I'm still the good guy' expression, gave Zemo a respectful nod. "Glad to have you with us, Baron. Here's the deal—we've cleared out most of HYDRA's grunts, but there are still some loose ends. We've got two bunkers up ahead. You and your team are taking one, the Avengers will handle the other. Any questions?"
Zemo straightened up, that leader-of-men vibe practically radiating off him. "Understood, Captain. EKO Scorpion is ready to roll." He looked over at his team, who had clearly been trained to move as one unit. If there were ever a team more prepared for this, I hadn't seen it.
"You hear that, guys?" Clint said, nudging Natasha as he adjusted his bow. "Ready to let the Baron play with his toys while we go and kick some HYDRA butt?"
"Try not to break anything, Clint," Natasha said, checking the load on her pistols with a cool, methodical precision. "We're here to do a job, not create more chaos."
Clint threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, sure, sure. What's a little chaos between friends?"
Harry, who had been monitoring the intel feeds from his side, smirked at the ongoing banter. "If you're looking for a real challenge," he said, tapping his earbud, "I've got some bonus intel on the bunkers. They're rigged to the teeth with traps. No biggie. You know, just your average Wednesday."
Tony's voice crackled in his comms, laced with curiosity and just a dash of that Stark humor. "Traps, huh? You don't say. I'm starting to think you might be overqualified for this mission, Harry. Do you want to stay in the van and I'll let you handle the whole 'disarm the world' thing?"
"I'd say yes," Harry replied with a snort, "but I've got too much work to do here. Besides, I'm sure you can handle it, Stark. You've got that shiny suit of yours to protect you. I'm just a guy with a glowing sword."
Clint groaned, his hand to his chest in mock offense. "I am not being outshone by some dude with a glowing sword! That's it, I'm getting a lightsaber. You've ruined me, Potter."
"Good luck with that," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "I'll even make you one, just to see how it feels to be me."
Captain America cleared his throat, bringing them all back to the task at hand. "Focus, people. We've got a job to finish." He turned to Zemo, who was already giving orders to his team with the precision of someone who had been born for command. "You handle your bunker, we'll take ours. We'll meet up after, clean up the rest of the mess."
"Got it," Zemo said, his tone clipped and professional. "EKO Scorpion will take care of the other bunker. Let's make sure Sokovia stays safe."
With that, they split into two teams, heading toward the bunkers with the weight of the mission hanging over them. The tension was palpable, but at least they had a plan—and more importantly, they had each other. Because when you've got this much firepower, why worry?
As they moved out, Tony's voice broke through again, lighthearted but still with that undercurrent of serious business. "Hey, guys, just a quick check-in. Do you all have your fancy SHIELD gadgets for this mission? I've got the latest upgrades for everyone. Clint, don't worry—I made sure to include a super high-tech arrow holder for you."
Clint raised an eyebrow, "Uh, thanks? What exactly does that do?"
Tony's voice turned smug. "I'll let you find out when you're shooting things. You're welcome."
Steve shot Tony a look. "We're really doing this now?"
Tony just chuckled. "Captain, lighten up. We've got a Baron on our team now. The royal treatment comes with the territory."
As they approached their respective bunkers, everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they found the real trouble. But until then, they'd fight together, crack jokes, and maybe—just maybe—manage to save the world without blowing everything up along the way.
And with Harry leading the charge, no one was going to bet against them.
—
Tony Stark's fingers hovered over the keyboard, his brow furrowing as he worked through a mountain of encrypted data. His usual cocky smirk was gone, replaced with an expression that could only be described as "slightly disturbed with a side of 'please tell me I'm wrong.'"
"Uh, guys?" Tony's voice was surprisingly small, like someone who'd just been told the earth was actually flat and they were the last to know. "You might want to sit down for this."
The Avengers, who were scattered around the room like the dysfunctional family they'd grown into, froze. Steve, Clint, Natasha, and Harry all turned their attention to the screen, a collective silence hanging over them like a thick fog.
Tony's fingers flew over the keys in a flurry, pulling up a series of images and text that seemed to scream "bad news" in every language possible. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some of his usual snark but failing miserably. "So… we knew HYDRA was trying to play Dr. Frankenstein with human subjects, right?" He shook his head, still processing what he was reading. "But this… this is next-level messed up. Like, the kind of messed up that makes you want to throw up and take a long, hot shower."
Natasha leaned in, her eyes narrowing. "What are you saying, Stark?"
Tony didn't sugarcoat it. He never did. "These sickos were experimenting on people like they were lab rats. And not the 'let's see if we can make them immune to toxins' kind of experiment. Oh no, this is the 'let's see if we can turn them into walking nightmares' kind of experiment." He paused for effect, and when he saw the shocked looks on their faces, he added, "Like, we're talking human guinea pigs turned into whatever the hell HYDRA thought was 'the next stage of evolution.' They were breeding nightmares. Literal, literal nightmares."
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. The kind where everyone just stood there, frozen, processing the horrifying implications of what Tony had just said.
Steve Rogers was the first to speak, his voice low and steady, like a blade being drawn from a sheath. "We can't let these horrors keep happening," he said, his jaw tight. "HYDRA has been running experiments like this for years, but this? This is too far. We have a duty to stop them and make them pay for what they've done."
It was like a switch flipped. The room went from stunned silence to a razor-sharp focus. Every Avenger—whether they had been standing around idly or, in Clint's case, practicing his archery moves—tuned into the mission with a newfound sense of purpose.
Harry, always the one to make a dramatic entrance (sometimes literally), broke the silence with a heavy sigh. "Okay, so... we're all on the 'let's stop HYDRA from turning people into twisted science experiments' bandwagon, right?" He leaned over the console, eyeing the disturbing images Tony had pulled up. "Because, to be honest, I've got a lot of different ways to blow up their entire operation. The tricky part is deciding which one's the most fun."
Clint, who had been on the receiving end of more than one of Harry's "over-the-top" moments, didn't miss a beat. "Yeah, because fun is totally the word I'd use here. But hey, if Harry's in charge of the explosions, I'm in. As long as I get to keep my arrows."
"Please, please, no more explosions," Natasha muttered, shaking her head. "Last time we let Harry 'take the lead' on the whole blowing things up thing, half the East Coast was looking for new real estate."
Tony, now leaning back in his chair with a drink in hand (because why not?), looked at Natasha with a smirk. "Not true. It was more like—what—two-thirds of the East Coast? We're talking about controlled demolition, people."
"Controlled?" Clint raised an eyebrow. "Sure, if by 'controlled' you mean, 'let's see how high we can make the smoke go.'"
"Right," Harry said, grinning like he'd just been handed a Christmas present. "Controlled chaos. And by the way, I'm thinking a mix of magical and tech-driven explosions. It'll be like the 4th of July meets Lord of the Rings."
"Please don't," Natasha muttered again, though there was a slight smile tugging at her lips. "Anyway, are we all clear on the plan? We stop the experiments, take down HYDRA, save the world. Got it?"
"Yep," Steve said, standing up straighter, his voice unwavering. "HYDRA's been a threat for long enough. We're not letting them get away with it."
Tony tapped his finger on his empty glass, his expression turning more serious. "And just to make things interesting, there's a twist. They've got their hands on some tech that could make the super soldiers we've been worried about look like toddlers with water guns. And by toddlers, I mean the worst ones from that daycare I visited last year."
"You're telling me we're dealing with more than just HYDRA's usual weird science projects?" Clint asked, eyes wide. "Because I'm starting to think we should've brought backup, like a lot of backup."
"Well, Clint, let's just say there are a few new players in the mix. HYDRA's not just experimenting with bodies anymore. They're experimenting with weapons—the kind that could make the Hulk look like a walking piñata." Tony raised his eyebrows. "Are you really in the mood for that?"
Clint grinned, pulling his bow back into his grip. "Well, if there's piñatas involved, I'll be there."
Harry just rolled his eyes, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You guys are real downers. Anyway, let's stop talking about piñatas, before Clint gets any ideas, and actually get to work. I'm pretty sure we've got a lot of dangerous, unethical science experiments to ruin today."
And just like that, the Avengers were back on track. With Tony cracking jokes, Clint looking for a fight, Natasha keeping everyone grounded, and Steve giving that 'I'm Captain America and I'm going to kick your butt' stare, they were ready to march into the belly of the beast and take down whatever horrors HYDRA had left behind.
Because when you've got a squad like this, there's only one thing left to do. And that thing is: destroy everything HYDRA's ever touched.
—
The Avengers, along with EKO Scorpion, moved through the dark corridors of the HYDRA bunker like they'd been trained in stealth by a bunch of ancient ninjas with way too much time on their hands. It was so smooth, it might as well have been choreographed by a Broadway director, only with less jazz hands and more tactical gear.
"Alright, people, keep it tight," Steve Rogers muttered, his voice steady as ever. He might have been the symbol of all-American decency, but right now he was the very definition of military precision. "No distractions. No mistakes."
"Hey, Cap, I'm not distracted," Tony Stark quipped from the front, his voice dripping with sarcasm as his suit made a soft whirring sound. "I'm just a little concerned we haven't been attacked yet. Usually, I can't make it five steps without some maniac in a weird helmet trying to blow me up."
JARVIS, ever the calm voice of reason, chimed in through the comms. "Sir, according to my calculations, the likelihood of encountering resistance in the next fifty meters is… high. I suggest you continue at your current pace."
"Thanks for the pep talk, JARVIS," Tony muttered under his breath, but you could tell from his tone he was already too deep in tech mode to be fazed by anything.
Meanwhile, Clint and Natasha were already in perfect sync, slipping through the shadows like they'd done this a million times. Clint, ever the smartass, shot Natasha a look as they paused behind a corner. "Hey, Nat, bet you can't hit that guy's head with an arrow while blindfolded."
She raised an eyebrow, and without missing a beat, said, "Bet I can't. Too easy."
"Well, you can't call yourself an Avenger if you're not up for a challenge," Clint grinned, nudging her with his elbow as she rolled her eyes.
With Steve leading them like the all-American bulldog he was, they finally reached the heart of the bunker. No red carpets, no applause—just a mess of confused and slightly terrified HYDRA agents.
"Showtime," Tony said, cracking his knuckles in preparation.
And just like that, the hallway turned into a symphony of destruction. HYDRA agents started pouring out from every doorway, and the air filled with the sound of gunfire and energy blasts. The Avengers didn't miss a beat. Steve raised his shield to deflect a barrage of laser fire while Tony launched an array of missiles from his armor. Clint let out a soft "pop" as an arrow whistled through the air, striking a HYDRA guard right in the shoulder. Natasha wasn't far behind, effortlessly dispatching enemies with precision and flair.
But, honestly, the real chaos was happening in the back. Harry, with his wand—sorry, his ridiculously powerful magic—was creating enough havoc to make a sorcerer blush.
"Alright, let's turn this place into a haunted house," Harry muttered, flicking his wrist. Immediately, a dozen illusions sprung to life, making the HYDRA agents jump in every direction as ghostly figures and shadowy creatures appeared and disappeared in rapid succession. It was like a horror movie crossed with a laser tag match, only the agents didn't get points for "hitting" the monsters—they just got a blast of confusion.
To make things worse for the unsuspecting HYDRA goons, Harry sent a gust of wind through the bunker, knocking barrels and crates around like a hurricane had just rolled through. He might not have been throwing lightning bolts like Thor, but he sure knew how to mess with people's minds.
"I'll tell you what, if I had a dollar for every time an enemy tried to fight their way through one of my illusions, I'd be richer than Tony Stark," Harry said, grinning. "Wait—scratch that, I'd be the richest person in the world. Not bad for a guy who wears a hoodie to battle."
Tony, in the middle of a fight, shouted back, "Hey, less talking, more blowing stuff up, Harry! This isn't a magic show, this is the real deal."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, sending a massive illusionary boulder flying through the hall. "I got it, Mr. Stark. You're too busy being a shiny robot to appreciate the subtle art of chaos."
"I'm not a robot, I'm an enhanced human," Tony replied, clearly not getting the joke. "And I'm way more shiny than you'll ever be."
Clint, after taking out another agent, looked at the chaos unfolding in front of him. "I mean, this is fun and all, but I think Harry's getting carried away with the whole 'magical mayhem' thing. How are we supposed to finish this mission if we can't tell who's real and who's just a creepy floating shadow?"
"That's the point, Clint," Harry shouted over his shoulder. "You guys deal with the real ones. I'm handling the ones who want to take a walk through my 'Twilight Zone.'"
It was safe to say that HYDRA's morale was crumbling faster than the walls Harry was conjuring around them. Every step the Avengers took felt like they were crushing a whole new layer of the evil organization's plans. Harry kept a sharp eye on the surroundings, using his magical abilities to make sure no sneaky agents snuck up on them.
As the team closed in on their objective, Tony made sure to mutter, "I think we need a vacation after this. Maybe somewhere tropical. No magic, no supervillains, just me, a drink with an umbrella, and a chair that doesn't explode when I sit in it."
"Your vacation ideas are as terrible as your taste in fashion," Natasha commented, giving him a pointed look.
"Oh, come on, Natasha, you love my style," Tony shot back. "It's cutting edge. It's sophisticated. It's…well, maybe not sophisticated, but it's definitely cutting edge."
The banter, as always, was flowing freely as the Avengers stormed the HYDRA bunker, a group of well-trained, tech-enhanced, magic-wielding superheroes ready to give the bad guys a taste of their own medicine. And as the sound of their enemies retreating filled the air, Harry couldn't help but feel a little smug.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
—
The Avengers and EKO Scorpion had torn through the bunkers like a wrecking ball on a rampage—fast, furious, and with an alarming amount of style. If there was an award for "Most Destructive Teamwork," they would've taken it hands down. But now, with the dust settling, Captain America was standing shoulder to shoulder with Baron Zemo, who was looking unreasonably pleased with himself.
"Captain," Zemo said, as if he were delivering breaking news on the world's most exclusive talk show, "we've got the inside scoop. These bunkers are a disaster waiting to happen. Traps everywhere. And I mean everywhere—the kind that would make a haunted house look like a walk in the park."
Captain America, ever the stoic leader, tilted his head slightly. If anyone else had said this, it would've sounded like an exaggeration. But with Zemo, there was an air of legitimacy—like when Tony Stark tells you he's made something 'top-notch' and you know it's probably going to blow your mind (or at least your wallet). "What are we looking at, Zemo?" Steve asked, his voice calm, the kind of calm that makes people think he's already planning his next move, even when he looks like he's just thinking about lunch.
Zemo, standing just a little too smug, pulled up a holographic map of the bunker layout. It buzzed to life, showing a sprawling maze of corridors, traps, and what could only be described as extremely angry-looking HYDRA agents. "We've pinpointed the hotspots. There are a few key areas that need… special attention. Highly secure—highly dangerous."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Steve said, his voice flat. Like he was saying, 'Don't worry, I'm about to solve your mess like it's my 9-to-5.' He glanced over at Zemo with that expression that had convinced an entire team of super-powered individuals to follow him into battle. "We'll split the teams. Hit them from different angles. Keep it clean."
Zemo made an exaggerated, almost dramatic gesture like he was presenting an award-winning idea. "Precisely. A multi-pronged attack. Not only will we minimize the risk of traps, but we can also catch the enemy by surprise. You'll be playing chess while they're stuck on checkers."
Steve gave him a brief, approving nod, but his face never lost that serious edge. "As long as no one gets left behind."
Zemo's smirk was back. "Of course, Captain. I believe I've proven my... usefulness." His tone practically dripped with pride, as if he was basking in the glow of a job well done. Or maybe it was the glow of a villain who'd turned a good guy's plan into his own personal chessboard.
But Steve wasn't having any of it. "Thanks for the help," he said, offering a hand to Zemo, looking more like a genuine gesture of camaraderie than an attempt to pat Zemo on the back. "But let's focus. We've got a mission to finish."
Zemo didn't hesitate. He grasped Steve's hand firmly, but with that slight twist of arrogance that made it clear he was the one calling the shots—at least in his mind. "Of course, Captain. Always a pleasure to assist in good causes. If you ever need further… expertise, do not hesitate to contact me. I might just have some additional tips for your next venture."
Steve's smile was thin, but his eyes never wavered from the task at hand. "I'll keep that in mind, Baron. We'll handle the rest."
With the plan set, Zemo turned his attention to the prisoners, giving a sharp order to his EKO Scorpion team. The prisoners, looking less like traitors and more like people who'd been on the receiving end of some very bad decisions, were herded off into custody. Meanwhile, Steve gestured for the Avengers to rally.
"Alright, team," Steve said, his voice taking on that "let's get it done" tone. "Next phase. Keep your eyes sharp. And for the love of all things holy, try not to step on anything that looks explosive."
"Because that's definitely our favorite thing," Tony Stark chimed in from somewhere behind him, his voice booming through the comms like an over-caffeinated professor who couldn't stop lecturing. "You know, the 'I might blow up today' thing? Very trendy." There was a faint hum as his armor clicked into place, clearly primed for the next round of trouble.
"You're an absolute delight, Stark," Steve muttered under his breath.
"Oh, I know. But you love it. Admit it, Cap. You can't resist my charm." Tony's voice came back with a lazy grin that you could practically hear through the static. "JARVIS, are we clear on that whole explosive situation?"
JARVIS's voice was cool and composed, like it always was. "All clear, sir. No traps detected in your immediate vicinity. However, please refrain from making any jokes that would prompt a building to explode."
"See?" Tony said, practically glowing with self-satisfaction. "Even JARVIS is on my side."
Steve rolled his eyes, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. It was just another day in the life of Captain America.
"Focus, guys," Steve said firmly, ready to head back into the fray. "We've got a job to finish."
As the teams prepared for the next phase, the pressure was palpable. The mission wasn't over, but the Avengers and EKO Scorpion had a plan, and with Captain America at the helm, no one was backing down. Zemo, for all his charm and slightly disorienting hero-villain vibe, had come through in a big way. But Steve wasn't about to let his guard down—not when there was still work to do.
"Let's move out," Steve ordered, and just like that, the Avengers, with their new ally by their side, were ready to face whatever came next. After all, they didn't call him Captain America for nothing.
—
The Quinjet rumbled to life as the ramp closed with a deep thud behind them, sealing in the tension and the uncertain future of their mission. The twins, unconscious and secured with the kind of precision usually reserved for a delicate science experiment, lay at the back of the jet. It was a relief they'd been subdued, but the weight of what they'd just done hung over the Avengers like a storm cloud on a sunny day.
Bruce, the team's resident worrywart (and also a walking, talking human science textbook), practically floated over to where the others were working, his eyes darting to the twins, his eyebrows furrowing like he was trying to solve a mystery only to find it was, in fact, more of a riddle wrapped in a science fiction novel.
"Are they okay?" Bruce asked, his voice carrying that familiar lilt of please don't tell me I'm going to have to fix this too. It wasn't just concern—it was like he was trying to patch up a wound with scotch tape and pure optimism.
Harry didn't even blink. "Physically, they're holding up," he said, all business, giving a glance at the twins as if they were just another part of the mission. "But mentally?" He gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. "That's a whole different kind of nightmare."
Bruce frowned, his hands twitching as if he wanted to start poking the twins with a stethoscope or, more realistically, his preferred neurochemical analysis kit. "We'll need to keep an eye on them. Trauma like this? Doesn't just fix itself over a weekend marathon of Netflix."
Steve, standing nearby with that look of "I'm all about tactical calm, but on the inside, I'm definitely calculating how many seconds it would take to throw a shield through a wall," nodded in agreement. "We'll make sure they get the care they need," he said, looking like the most responsible guy at the superhero PTA meeting. But there was something in his eyes—was it doubt? Or maybe just the aftermath of what they'd been through?
Tony Stark, sitting a few feet away and clearly already calculating how to sell the rights to this disaster for a movie deal, threw his two cents in. "Oh yeah, because nothing screams 'mental health recovery' like putting them in a room with us. Maybe we should've brought them a bag of popcorn too."
"I'm sure they'll appreciate the gesture," Natasha said dryly, adjusting her black leather jacket like she was about to jump into the next mission, even though they were technically already en route. "You've really thought this through, Tony."
Tony flashed her a smile that could melt steel (or at least annoy a few interns). "Well, Natasha, someone needs to lighten the mood around here." He glanced at Clint, who was eyeing him with a look that suggested he had a quiver full of sarcasm just waiting to be launched. "Clint, back me up here. Should we get them, I don't know, a personalized welcome basket?"
Clint didn't look up from cleaning his bow, muttering under his breath, "We could get them something special. Like a one-way ticket to a supervillain rehab center."
"I like it," Tony said, raising an imaginary glass to Clint. "Not enough arrows in the world to stop that idea."
JARVIS, who had been silently keeping an eye on the systems of the Quinjet, chimed in with his usual British charm. "Sir, might I suggest we focus on ensuring the Quinjet's safety during the flight rather than planning welcome home parties for your 'guests'?"
"Always such a killjoy, JARVIS," Tony replied, tapping his fingers on the armrest. "But I guess that's why we keep you around."
Bruce, who'd clearly had enough of this banter, nodded toward the twins. "Can we get back to them? They're the ones who're, you know, unconscious and probably have a million things going on in their brains right now."
Steve shot a glance at the twins, his face serious, the weight of their mission pressing down like a steel beam. "We can't afford any more surprises. Whatever's going on with them, we handle it carefully. No more playing around."
"Right, Captain," Natasha said, folding her arms. "We've got a long flight ahead, and it's not like we've got time for a nap."
"Good," Steve said with a slight nod, the command in his voice carrying through the air. "Let's make sure we're ready for anything when we land. We can't be caught off guard again."
Harry, sitting in the back of the Quinjet, crossed his arms and stared out the window, watching the city grow smaller as they sped into the clouds. It felt like a moment of reprieve—but only for a second. After all, the twins were just one piece of the puzzle, and there were still plenty of pieces missing.
As the Quinjet sailed on, Clint's voice broke through the quiet, the sarcastic edge creeping back in. "So, what's next? Do we take these two to SHIELD, or are we just tossing them into the dungeon and seeing what happens?"
"I vote for a dungeon," Tony said, tapping at his holographic screen. "It's more vibe."
Bruce, not having any of it, shot them both a warning look. "No dungeons. We handle this with care. They might be our enemies now, but that doesn't mean we have to treat them like we're all mad scientists."
"That's exactly what you are, Bruce," Tony quipped. "But sure, let's be all 'careful with the trauma' and 'don't break the prisoners.'"
Harry smirked from the back, his voice cutting through the chatter like a knife. "You guys are adorable. But I'd prefer we just keep it simple—fix the problem, move on. No need for emotional baggage with our guests."
Steve nodded, the team's unofficial captain. "Right. We do what we need to do, and we move forward. No distractions."
And so, as the Quinjet sliced through the skies toward Avengers Tower, there was a sense of quiet resolution among them. They were a team—not just because they had the power to fight, but because they understood that sometimes, the toughest battles were the ones that didn't involve punching. They weren't just fighting for victory. They were fighting for something bigger.
And if they had to deal with a couple of traumatized prisoners along the way, so be it. The mission wasn't over, and they weren't going to stop until they'd fixed it.
JARVIS's voice broke the silence again, as the Quinjet approached its destination. "We're almost at Avengers Tower, Sir. I suggest you prepare for the next phase of operations."
Steve didn't respond immediately, but the look on his face said it all. They were ready.
No more playing around.
---
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