𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎 || 𝘋𝘶𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘩𝘢

WHAT WOULDN'T JAXON DO FOR A LIFE BESIDES THE ONE GIVEN TO HIM.

This wasn't a question he posed to himself, but a rhetorical statement he could answer instantly. No sense of pondering such a question. The acknowledgement that he wished for something more often made him pose an actual question.

Why won't I go for it then?

Now, that question left him at a loss. Although it might be what he wanted, could he leave this life behind? Could he go live in a big house with a white picket fence? With a wife? A kid? A dog? A normal 9 to 5 job that didn't put his life at risk?

He doesn't think so. This then placed him in a spiral of confusion and ill attempts at reasons that could normally pose as justified. But he knew this life was made for him when he came into the world. Past threads of this life were still untied and that dream life he wanted wouldn't be achievable until he tied off the loose ends.

But even with the reassurance that it could be achievable, Jaxon didn't feel any better about what he saw and what he did. They were illusions, he knew and understood that. It still didn't help comfort him whenever he looked at Natasha. Flashes of the wounds appeared across her body before reverting. No matter how many times he saw it and thought his body had gotten used to it, he still felt the churn in the pit of his stomach.

There was no real way to combat it besides not looking at her. Never make eye contact with her and just wait until the shock and flashes of the illusions were gone. But that alone was still a mystery to him as he wondered how long these illusions would affect him.

After the lengthy flight which no one spoke, they finally arrived at the supposed safehouse Clint had promised. While most of the team grabbed their essentials and moved toward the house, Jaxon continued to sort through the Talon gear.

"Jax, let's go." Steve's voice sounded from behind him. Nonetheless, it didn't enable the man to move. Still, he kept his eyes focused on the multitude of familiar and prototype gear supplied by his mentor.

And even when Steve's footsteps approached from behind him, Jaxon made no move. It was when Steve grabbed his shoulder. "Jaxon, you need to rest-"

He inhaled sharply at the knife that pressed to his throat. The cold steel was enough to send chills down his body as the blade's edge pressed further against his skin, splitting it a faint bit.

Jaxon pursed his lips, exhaling shakily, unmoving as Steve grabbed his wrist. He was carefully pushing the knife from his throat, trying to swallow the lump that seemed to come from nowhere. "It's me. Jaxon, it's Steve." His words could cut through the heavy fog of frustration and mangled coherent thoughts.

Exhaling heavily, Jaxon pulled the knife away and slid it into its sheath. Glancing at the man for a moment, he said, "Sorry, Cap. I..." He stopped himself, clearing his throat. "I need to sort through this. Make it easy for us when we go for Ultron next time instead of fishing through crates."

Despite his nerves having gone haywire, Steve rubbed his throat. Feeling the warm trickle of blood slide down his throat. The pain was barely noticeable. Reduced to a mere sting that the supersoldier could mistake to be a faint pinch of his skin.

"You need to talk to, Nat." That made Jaxon look up, eyes slightly widened in alarm. But he should know Steve was intuitive of his surroundings. And primarily of his team that looked to him in times of need. "I'm not going to act like I know what you saw because I don't but. But I know it connects to her."

Jaxon scoffed, brushing the back of his hand under his nose and glanced over his shoulder at the man before he began to move the crates. "Is that what you think?"

"I know it is," Steve answered resolutely. "I saw the fear in your eyes whenever you looked at her. Wanda put something in your head that isn't real, Jax."

The heavy clunk of the crate responded to Steve's claim as Jaxon exhaled heavily. He peeled his head mask off and ran a hand through his hair. Turning to the supersoldier he considered close to a grandfather considering his relationship with his grandmother, he collapsed onto the box and braced his hands on his knees.

His right hand hovered slightly, motioning around the side of his head as his face scrunched up, like something was gnawing at him. "It isn't as simple as you think, Steve. I... I had to see Nat and Leah..." He exhaled heavily, clenching his hand.

Swallowing the lump in the back of his throat, Jaxon stood to his feet and began to peel his gloves off. "We handle our problems differently, Cap. I bottle mine and mull them over. It gives me time to access all the options and act accordingly." Tucking the gloves around his utility belt, Jaxon glanced at the man before making his exit. "Leave me to my ways."

"Even if it affects, Nat?"

Stopping at the bottom of the ramp, Jaxon pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. Exhaling a huff with a short laugh as he turned halfway to supersoldier. "You don't get to talk to me about the after-effects when you left my grandmother to mourn your disappearance."

Steve, at a loss for words, shifted his weight between his legs. "That was different-"

"You tell yourself that, Steven. You lie and say that what you missed out on doesn't keep you up at night. Or you don't think back on the people you hurt for your decision," Jaxon spat. "Unlike you, I'm not going to jeopardize other's happiness because of my decisions."

Maybe when S.H.I.E.L.D. was being torn apart from the inside and Jaxon didn't have as many memories of his he would've been quick to act like Steve. Face the problems head-on unrelenting. But Jaxon wasn't Steve. Things were fine as they were. He and Natasha were figuring their problems out and he already had enough on his plate with Leah and Harry.

The last thing he needed was to scare Natasha or scare himself from the illusions that Wanda placed in his mind.

Jaxon stepped away before he could hear any rebuttal given by Steve. Passing by Tony as he went up the deck and entered the house to hear children giggling. A frown stretched across Jaxon's face as he saw two children hanging from Thor's extended arm, an amused grin stretched across the God's face.

But he couldn't make it far before a woman's voice alerted. "Oh, my God! Jaxon!" Jaxon snapped his head toward the voice and found the oddly familiar face.

His brows pinched together, cycling through his memories, trying to pinpoint the familiarities of the woman that he for sure knew, but couldn't put a name to. And perhaps his confusion wasn't as apparent as he thought since the woman still approached and captured him in a hug.

"It's been so long. When Natasha told me you were alive, I couldn't believe it," the woman said over his shoulder, squeezing him gently. Sighing, she pulled away and rested her hands on his shoulders, smiling up at him.

Jaxon's lips parted, glancing up at Clint stood behind his wife. Then he looked back down at the woman and swallowed the lump in his throat. "I-I'm sorry. I... I don't remember you."

The woman's expression slowly fell as he clenched his jaw, carefully pulling her arms from his shoulders and shifting past. Quickly making his way up the stairs, hopeful to avoid the confused look she gave him.

He ducked into the first room he could, unbothered by whom it provided a sense of peace for and whose space he was invading. Even when he heard the faint humming come from the bathroom door left a sliver open, steam bellowing from the opening, he didn't care. He was only focused on controlling his breathing and keeping his hand pressed to his chest, swallowing the lump in his throat.

As of yet, all his memories were still slowly coming back. He'd say he had a majority of them that mattered for work and to fuel his resentment for the past. But the tiny ones–Clint's wife for example–had still yet to return. And he didn't know if it was the guilt or the disfigured emotions that made it so hard.

At first, it didn't bother him so much. Frankly, he preferred the forgery of new memories to the old. But at some point, it simply switched. An unannounced switch being flipped and setting alight his burning heart and mind.

Echos revolves each inch of his mind when something reminds him of a past he hasn't entirely absorbed as of yet. His heart yearns to reach out and hug Clint's wife despite, in his mind, this being their first interaction.

These thoughts carried on way after the bathroom door peeked open with Natasha poking her head out. She'd been hearing soft mutters when she got out of the shower. Something telling her it might've been Bruce or Steve. But she hadn't expected Jaxon. Well, that's what she'd like to say. Some part of her had wanted him to be waiting for her or to come share the warm water with her.

But with his exhausted features and sluggish movements, she guessed something else gnawed at him. Much like most of the team.

"Wasn't expecting a visitor." Natasha watched in amusement as Jaxon flinched and whipped his head around to meet her gaze. Shock and a molecule of fear evident within, until he relaxed at the sight of her nightgown covering her naked body. The strings were ready to unfurl from the tie around her waist, and Jaxon took notice of how the puffy fabric did enough to accentuate each delicate, pristine curve of the woman's body. With everything floating around in his mind, the last thing he needed was the image of her naked beneath him.

The man ran a hand through his shaggy hair and sighed. "Water still warm?"

"Would've been if you had come sooner. Might've shared you some," Natasha commented with a smirk, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned against the doorframe. But it seemed her flirtatious and elicit bluntness didn't have the same effect as it once would've had on him. His eyes flickered around the room like his mind was trying to process what she said. "You wanna talk about about what happened?"

"Do you?" He asked, voice rising a slice in volume. It hadn't been intentional, but it seemed like the best to show his emotions of the matter.

Stripping himself from the suit, he tossed the article of clothing onto the bed and walked past Natasha toward the bathroom. Ready to do a deep plunge of cold water. He was willing to do anything besides have this conversation.

"I saw the Red Room. The training, the procedure... I relived it all over again." Jaxon's hand grabbed the frame of the doorway, stopping short and turning to the woman. The pain being held back by the brave expression was commendable and rather remarkably new considering how long it'd been since he'd seen her this emotional. And for her to come to him again about the Red Room, it was admirable. "I almost forgot that that part of my life existed."

If there was anything Jaxon had learned from the years of knowing Natasha and dating her, she never knew how to relinquish the cold, teasing, flirtatious mask. Facing the emotions for how they were or confiding in another was rare for her. At times, Jaxon couldn't understand why she even decided to share so much with him. Maybe out of fear or judgement, but Jaxon couldn't understand why that would be her outlook.

His fingers faintly tensed around the wooden frame and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "There's no shame in what happened in the past, Nat. That doesn't make your whole personality," he reassured. "If I can see that, then you should too."

"That doesn't change how I feel," she stated in an almost defiant way. But Jaxon could partially see what she meant. "I'm nothing more than what I was raised to be, Jax. You know it, and I know it."

Jaxon sighed, running a hand down his face with them falling to his hips. "Do you think I don't know how you're feeling? Not a day goes by where I don't think I'm good enough despite the things I've done for the world," he explained in exasperation. "But I know that it doesn't matter because all I have is this. This is my life. I work without the world's eyes on me, and I embrace the loneliness of it. There is nothing beyond my work at Talon and this endless fight. But you have something more important than any of that. You have a family, you have the Avengers, you have Bruce-"

"We don't have anything."

"But you could!" He exclaimed in a tone that was fractured by desperation and annoyance. A mixture of emotions grew more severe with their infestation in his heart. "Nat, I am a walking time bomb. Trust me, if I could, I would drag you to the nearest church and marry you. I would love to adopt Leah and have that life I've always dreamt of. But I can't have my worst fears coming true."

"But who are you to decide that for me or Leah?" Natasha questioned.

"Nat, I owe you this. I won't hurt you again," Jaxon emphasized. "And maybe this is me finally wanting payback for Santorini. But this is nothing but in your good interest.

"You don't owe me anything. It was my mistake for never telling the truth or going home when I should've," she reasoned. "And you won't hurt me. I know you-"

"You don't know that-!"

"I do!" The waver of her voice made Jaxon shift his weight. Jaw clenched as he squeezed his hands into fists with a sigh of exasperation. "I know that you wouldn't hurt me unless you had to. And even then, I know it wouldn't be what you want."

Avoiding the dream felt more prominent than believing anything Natasha had to say. "I can't be responsible for your guys' deaths."

Grasping his face, Natasha shook her head. "Our pasts don't get to be more important than what we have now."

She was a light in his life. An unprecedented act of kindness from whoever made this world place her in his path. Out of all the tragedies that he's been placed in front of, she was the one true blessing to come from this life.

But he felt like some ulterior part of himself–a polar opposite–was able to tell the facts he wished to disregard. Much like a shooting star, Jaxon was that refraction for Natasha. From shooting stars that had passed, none fulfilled her wishes. But Jaxon stood before her, willing to sacrifice everything for her.

So, she pinned hopes and dreams into his mind and flesh. Their meaning became more important than the wounds left behind. A hushed whisper in his ear. Lips glazing across his neck with an unspoken control becoming established. Each had been implanted in his very being with such a calculated and pristine method that they became everything to him. And in some unforsaken way, he found some beauty in it.

Jaxon would've been dead even if he did or didn't meet Natasha. At some point, the question of his existence and the meaning of it all would be raised. And he was sure he would've ended up putting a bullet in his mouth. But when Natasha fully indoctrinated herself into his life, then her dreams and hopes filled his mind.

And maybe it had been selfish for him to use her hopes and dreams to form some sort of meaning to his life. But was it so bad that he wanted a life beyond endless killing?

Any life beyond this line of work had been burnt or torn down by himself. His meaning of life had become Natasha and if that was taken away, he wasn't sure what he would do with himself. Pain would eventually find the backdoor. It was inescapable, relentless, and merciless with its impact. But Jaxon knew he would be fine as long as Natasha was around.

Grasping her wrists, Jaxon closed his eyes. "Bringing Leah into our lives is dangerous. She's already in enough danger being near either of us."

"And we'll protect her." She softly brushed a thumb across his cheek, smiling. "We're her best bet."

Jaxon wanted to believe that to be true. In every way and possibility, there's nothing else that he wanted more. But reality was a harsh adversary and its blunt honesty proved to be more truthful than what a human can be capable of. It didn't lie and it sure didn't withhold the dangers a human can harbor to the ones around them. At the end of the day, it was the person's responsibility to see the danger they brought with them.

That truth is something that took a while for Jaxon to accept. Still, some part of himself fought against the truth. But he knew keeping his distance from others would save them and himself pain. Best to leave the past in the past and not rehash old problems.

He shook his head. "You don't know that."

Natasha sighed as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Chin resting on the center of his chest, eyes staring up at him softly. "Well, even if I don't, that shouldn't determine what we deserve. And I know we deserve this, Jax," she replied endearingly. "I wouldn't want this with anyone else."

Everything in Jaxon's core told him to run. Turn away and tell her to stop living on hopeless dreams and desires. Because that's what this adoption whittled down to; desires to be a parent, and a chance at something normal. That wasn't fair to Leah and it sure didn't feel right with Jaxon. Then again, maybe his subconscious wanted him to think that considering his hesitance.

But for once, maybe he wanted to disregard the truth. Maybe he wanted to fall into his desires and ignore the repercussions until they were something of physical manifestation. Because the longer he stared into Natasha's eyes it became harder to reject those urges.

Biting his bottom lip, swallowing the cement lump in his throat. "Ok." Natasha's arms tensed around him, staring at him closely in either suspicion or confusion as to what he meant. Yet, all she was met with was a soft smile that formed on the man's lips. And even though he didn't further elaborate, Natasha understood wholeheartedly.

WHEN JAXON FOUND FURY MAKING HIMSELF A SANDWICH WITH THE REST OF THE TEAM WATCHING, HE DIDN'T EXACTLY KNOW HOW TO REACT. After his fresh shower, he'd hoped to get in contact with Harry and give him a sitrep. Maybe even lay down and catch up on some sleep that he desperately needed. But with the entire team's presence (except Thor who had left without another word) Jaxon felt compelled to at least be in attendance. Even if he had no intrigue in whatever Fury had to say.

"Ultron took you folks out of play to buy himself time. My contacts all say he's building something," Fury explained with his attention half distributed to the team and the sandwich he was making. "The amount of vibranium he made off with, I don't think it's just one thing."

"What about Ultron himself?" Steve inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, he's easy to track. He's everywhere. He's multiplying faster than a Catholic rabbit," Fury said. "It still doesn't help us get an angle on any of his plans, though."

From the back of the kitchen, Tony tossed a dart at the dartboard. "Is he still going after launch codes?"

"Yes, he is," Fury confirmed. "But he's not making any headway."

"I cracked the Pentagon's firewall in high school on a dare," Tony confessed, using the comparisons between himself and his creation.

Jaxon, who sat beside Natasha, shook his head with a hum. "I still don't think this is about killing the entire human race. I mean, this guy thinks of himself as a prophet or god, right? Why commit genocide if he is to be the ruler of Earth?" He asked aloud, glancing amongst the group. "Nukes are going to be a power move if anything. Force himself into power and force people in line for whatever he has planned next."

"Well, I contacted our friends at the Nexus about that," Fury said, peeling pieces of ham and placing them on the bread.

Steve looked up, frowning. "Nexus?"

"It's the world internet hub in Oslo. Every byte of data flows through there. Fastest access on Earth," Bruce explained.

"So, what did they say?" Clint asked, inspecting one of the darts.

"He's fixated on the missiles. But the codes are constantly being changed."

"By whom?" A heavy thunk sounded at the impact of Clint's dart hitting a bullseye and flying past Tony's face. He looked at the dart and then Clint, glaring. Clint could only shrug, a smirk etched on his lips.

"Parties unknown," Fury answered.

"Do we have an ally?" Natasha asked.

"Ultron's got an enemy. That's not the same thing," Fury corrected. "Still, I'd pay holding money to know who it is."

Fury grasped the door frame from the back, pursing his lips. "I might need to visit Oslo," he announced. "Find our unknown."

Natasha sighed. "Well, this is good times, boss, but I was kinda hoping when I saw you, you'd have more than that."

"I do. I have you," Fury announced. "Back in the day, I had eyes everywhere. Ears, everywhere else. You kids had all the tech you could dream up. Here we all are, back on Earth, with nothing but our wit and our will to save the world. Ultron says the Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And whether or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this, laid in a grave. So stand. Outwit the platinum bastard," Fury encouraged, sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Natasha looked at Steve, smirking. "Steve doesn't like that kind of talk."

Steve raised a brow, the edge of his lips curving. "You know what, Romanoff?" The response only made her smirk widen in amusement.

"So, what does he want?" Fury asked aloud, glancing around at the team.

"To become better," Steve answered. "Better than us. He's keeps building bodies."

"Person bodies. The human form is inefficient. Biologically speaking, we're outmoded. But he keeps coming back to it," Tony speculated.

Natasha looked between Banner and Tony. "When you two programmed him to protect the human race, you amazingly failed."

"Although that is true,

"They don't need to be protected. They need to evolve." The team looked to Bruce who stared down at one of Lila's drawings of a butterfly. He looked up at them. "Ultron's going to evolve."

"How?" Fury asked.

Bruce thought for a brief moment before looking amongst the team. "Has anyone been in contact with Helen Cho?"

When no one answered, Jaxon groaned. "I'll get in contact with Harry. See if he can pull together a QRF for her location."

"The risk isn't worth it." Fury's response made Jaxon look up at him with a frown. "Our assumption is Ultron's going to be tapping in everywhere. He's waiting for us to make a move."

Jaxon couldn't contain the low laugh that fell from his lips. Shaking his head and glaring at the older man. "Fury, my men know the risks. My task force knows the risks. If they didn't, I wouldn't be suggesting allied forces," he stated.

"Even if it ends up with blood on your hands?"

Sniffling, Jaxon shifted in his seat and stared up at the man with pursed lips. "The cost of war, isn't it?"