𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝘍𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘋𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴

"OH, ARE WE HAVING A LITTLE SLEEPOVER?"

Tony's voice hadn't been what Jaxon expected to wake up to. But he hadn't also expected the soft giggles to come from Leah as he peeled his eyes open. Sniffling as he squinted from the blinding light of the morning sun peeking through the blinds. His grasp on Natasha's leg still held as he looked at the girl with markers in her grasp, who was sitting opposite him. And Tony stood near the end of the bed, an impressed look on his face.

And it took a moment, but Jaxon frowned. "What'd you do?"

"Oh, nothing. Just encouraged the girl's interest in art. After witnessing what she's capable of, you'd be impressed honestly."

Jaxon groaned, reaching into his pocket, pulled out his phone and turned on the camera. The mere sight of himself nearly made the urge to plunge from the window a tempting resolution than dealing with marker sketches across his face. Leah had been so kind to draw him a twirly mustache, stars along his forehead, and pink blush marks that resembled fresh bruises on his cheeks. A complete horrid to even look at.

Once again, not what he expected to wake up to.

Looking over his shoulder, his eyes met an amused Natasha trying to hide her grin behind her hand. "You encourage her to do this?"

Natasha hummed, shrugging casually. "I think you look beautiful."

That only earned more giggles from Leah as Jaxon groaned, standing to his feet and moving to the bathroom. Taking a handful of water and beginning to rub at the sketches vigorously.

Coming up for a moment, Jaxon glanced back at Tony. "What's up, Tony? Anything we can help you with?"

"You can. We're pulling out all the old S.H.I.E.L.D. files and going to search for any possible leads of Ultron and where he might go," Tony explained. "And while we thought Strucker might be a possible candidate, the man is dead."

Jaxon snapped his head toward the man, scowling in confusion. But before he could even question, Tony continued. "Yes, we locked him up, if that was what you were wondering. But he was killed in his cell and our main suspects as to his colleagues are the Maximoff twins," he explained. "So, if you three wouldn't mind, come lend us a hand."

The man was already walking out of the room without a further word. Leaving Jaxon to growl, hands bracing the edge of the sink, fingers clenching around the edge.

He shouldn't have suspected things to be simple. When it comes to the Avengers, it never was simple. And truthfully, he should be glad there is some sort of challenge after hunting such bland men across the world. The chase had become more of a hassle than an actual job. But something was wanting this AI off the playing field in a timely fashion. And that might be because, for the first time in a while, Ultron posed a possible global threat.

Alexander Pierce and HYDRA as a whole had been dangerous, but it was a controlled chaotic nature to them. But Ultron, so far, had shown he was unpredictable. He tied off loose ends that would pose a threat to his mission of wiping the Avengers off the planet, and possibly anyone else he didn't think was fit for his idea of evolution.

"Jax?" Snapping his head toward the voice, Natasha stood at the doorway, Leah behind her as they stared at his hands.

Looking down, he found his hands burning through the ceramic sink, charred bits falling from the appliance. Growling, he pulled his hands away and closed his eyes, calming himself down as his hands stopped the orange tendrils from extending outwards until seeping back into his body.

"I'm sorry." He shook his hands by his side, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His jaw tense as he rubbed away the faint smudge marks on his forehead. "Just...frustrated."

"Is it true?" His eyes flickered to Leah. "Is Strucker dead?"

Biting the inside of his cheek, he swallowed the cement in his throat and nodded with a hum. Leah muttered an "oh" under her breath with a deep sigh following right after.

As the girl stepped away, Natasha's gaze following, the woman's eyes found Jaxon's once more. "What're you thinking?" She inquired softly.

Jaxon exhaled heavily, glancing at the woman as he grabbed a towel and dried his face. "Ultron needs to be dealt with. Fast."

"You know what I mean."

Her response made the man toss the towel into the tub and cross his arms over his chest. Pursing his lips, he brought a hand over his beard, sighing. "I don't like the idea of Leah being involved. She knows the Maximoffs and they know her. They were practically cell mates during Strucker's experiments," he whispered, highly aware of the little girl right outside the bathroom. "If Ultron was able to convince the twins to help him, what does that mean for Leah?"

"It won't come to that." Natasha grasped the man's arms, squeezing delicately.

But just as fast as she had grabbed him, her hold had been gently taken away from the man. His eyes sharpened with a shake of his head. "We don't know that."

"Well, we don't know a lot of things, but that doesn't mean we let "what ifs" be a determining factor," Natasha countered.

Jaxon scoffed. "Then you clearly don't remember Augusta." The haunting reminder of the city on fire was a proven point of his argument. So many things could've gone differently if choices were made differently. That entire mission failure had him constantly pondering the other possibilities that might have those thousands of lives still above ground and not eviscerated to pink mist and ash.

"If I didn't save that girl, perhaps Augusta would still be standing. And maybe, if I didn't kill my team, perhaps we would've gotten the codes to defuse the bomb. When we fail, Nat, "what ifs" are all that we have. So, I need to look at them and consider them. Especially if Leah could be at risk."

"Are you scared you aren't capable of keeping her safe?" Natasha hissed sharply, staring at the man in confusion.

Jaxon licked his lips and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not the reason..."

"Then if there is no explainable reason to doubt that girl's resilience–even after everything she's gone through–why should she be another 'what if'?" Natasha protested softly.

Once again, she made the daring choice to grab his arms. Ready to pull away at the first sign of discomfort or request. "Leah is just as strong as the two of us. We won't be able to be there for her every minute of every day." Squeezing his arms, Natasha smiled faintly. "Just have to have a little faith in the girl."

Jaxon bit his bottom lip and nodded, wrapping his arms around the girl. Face finding its place in her hair, eyes fluttering shut with a deep sigh.

The open line of intimacy was still something Jaxon was getting used to. It felt nice, he wouldn't deny that. And he was sure that wouldn't change for the rest of his life. But it wouldn't go any farther until he felt like Natasha had earned his forgiveness.

They stayed like that for another minute or so until they decided to head to the conference room. Leah walked between the pair, mood significantly different from her little "art session" minutes ago. Which only made Jaxon aware that she might've heard what he had to say or was still processing Strucker's death.

The three entered the conference room, welcomed by multiple pairs of eyes. "Glad you could finally make it," Tony commented, flipping through a folder. "Was starting to think you two were catching up on some old time in bed-"

"Stop!" Jaxon exclaimed, subtly motioning to Leah who was barely paying attention.

Tony smirked nonetheless, pointing to the boxes filled with files. "Well, nothing much else to tell you besides to start reading. We'll be here all day."

With that, the three got settled in and started looking through files. Leah applied herself to the pictures Jaxon handed to her. They held no select importance, but just something to keep her busy.

All because he didn't know what she might've been thinking with the information given to her earlier. He hoped she felt relieved. Hell, he hoped she was glad that man was dead. But no matter what his speculations may say, she was still a kid–barely able to be considered a teenager. And that contributed to the fact that he did not understand what the girl was feeling or thinking.

He wasn't good with kids. Plain and simple. Leah had been a coincidence and wasn't planned to slowly grow on the assassin/commander/agent as fast as she has. So, as much as he felt compelled and wished to help the girl with anything she may be feeling, he didn't at all think he was qualified.

After what had felt like hours of searching, Steve couldn't help but comment on all the connections people had with the man responsible for the creation of Leah's and Maximoff's powers. "Baron Strucker had a lot of friends."

"A HYDRA member with an endless supply of resources and could be held up in a castle in the middle of nowhere has friends? Who would've thought, huh?" Jaxon replied sarcastically, earning an elbow in the stomach from Natasha.

Tony snapped his fingers. "Leave the smartass comments to me, kid, alright?"

As Tony looked down, his gaze found the folder in Bruce's hand, eyebrows tensing. "Wait. I know that guy. From back in the day." Taking the folder, Tony began to distribute multiple photos that had been taken likely for surveillance. "He operates off the African coast. Black market arms."

Steve glared at his friend, and Tony was quick to defend himself. "There are conventions, all right? You meet people," he huffed. "I didn't sell him anything."

Becoming reminded of the interaction, Tony frowned in thought. Recollecting on the moment with the arms dealer. "He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer," he commented. "It was all very ahab."

"This?" Thor pointed to the spot on the side of the mystery man's neck.

"Ah, it's a tattoo, I don't think he had it," Tony dismissed, looking back down at the picture in his hands.

"Those are tattoos, this is a brand," Thor corrected.

Handing the photo off to Natasha, she made it quick to begin scanning the photo and the brand through all databases at their disposal. Sifting through all dialects until finally stopping.

"Oh, yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning 'thief'. In a much less friendly," Bruce commented, looking back at the group.

"What dialect?" Steve inquired.

Bruce pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, looking at the computer screen. "Wakanada... Wak-"

"It's Wakandan," Jaxon interjected. "Hunted a target there way back when I was with the Teams. Had a Strap that knew the dialect like the back of his hand."

Both Steve and Tony looked at one another, a knowing look in their eyes. "If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods..."

"I thought your father said he got the last of it," Steve countered.

Bruce frowned, adjusting his glasses as he stood up from the computer. "I don't follow. What comes out of Wakanda?"

Everyone followed Steve's gaze as they landed on his shield. "The strongest metal on Earth," Tony stated.

"So, we're thinking this guy stole Vibranium and was able to escape scot-free? Listen, if they branded this guy, then they're looking for him just as much as us," Jaxon pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't we contact the right people and get some allied forces?"

"We could if you want Ultron to tap in," Clint pointed out. "Like you said, we have to expect anything. Our best bet is to go alone."

Snapping his fingers, Tony pointed at Jaxon. "What about Talon? Any chance we can have assistance?"

Before Jaxon could provide the lack of backup on the mission, the door of the conference room swung open. All turned to find Harry stepping through, giving a wink to Maria who did very little to hide the attraction she had for the man. His seductiveness and charisma never wilt despite his age.

"Harry, how can we help you?" Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Looking away from Maria, Harry looked to the supersoldier. "I'm here to provide equipment, by the order of the Queen. Something to give you guys a little edge in the fight," he explained with a small smile.

Turning his gaze to Jaxon, he nodded to the side, already making his way out of the room with no further explanation. Jaxon glanced at Natasha before following the older man.

Once they were far enough away from the conference room, Harry turned to Jaxon and stuffed his hands in his slacks. "What've you got?"

Jaxon leaned against the wall, running his hand through his beard. "Ulysses Klaue is our main target. He and Tony had a run-in a while back. Was babbling on about Vibranium. So, we're thinking Ultron is going for Vibranium," he explained. "Two of the three test subjects are with him as well while we have one here."

"Is it the kid?" Harry asked, glancing toward the conference room at the young girl watching the adults around her talk.

"Yeah. Leah Rike. Born in Bristol. Parents dead, no relatives on record."

Harry hummed, glancing at the team that seemed to get ready for the assault. "You know Holloway isn't going to deploy Talon until we have a serious threat."

Jaxon scoffed, shaking his head. "Holloway is a cunt and he knows it. He's just trying to find reasons to take my spot."

"So, give us something actionable," Harry replied.

In their time of working together and closely with Harry's handful of agents, Jaxon learned the old man was just like him–needing deployment over the picket fence. It's one of the already few things that the pair could relate to outside of bickering over the small things. And it's exactly what Jaxon needed from a mentor in their line of work.

Jaxon clenched his jaw, nodding. Harry smiled, patting the man's shoulder. "Hill has all the gear on the landing pad with people loading it onto the Quinjet," he said as he started to walk away.

But before he could get far, he called out over his shoulder, "And decide if Leah is going to be in the recruitment process or not. People are going to want an answer sooner than later."

And like that, the man was gone with Jaxon left to ponder the ultimatum.

THE FLIGHT TO THE AFRICAN COAST HAD BEEN QUIET. It'd been broken a handful of times by Tony and Steve when conversations amongst the team. But the continuous silence hung in the air in a constant.

On one hand, the few readied themselves for the likelihood of a fight with Ultron. Prepping their weapons and equipment to perform at their best capabilities. But Jaxon kept to himself, knife in his grasp with his thumb gradually brushing against the face of the blade.

Against his better judgment, he had entrusted Leah to Maria's care. Seeing as being back at the tower would be safer than being on the Quinjet where they approached the threat. And as much as he wished for Leah to be safe, he couldn't decide on what options would be safer than the other.

From the cockpit, Tony called out from over his shoulder, "Jax, ping these ships."

Without a response, Jaxon grabbed the Dart and moved to the landing bay. The Dart was the latest invention from MI6 with the purpose of recon. Each beacon fired had an area of effect of 500 clicks that was capable of reading heat signatures in that area of effect.

When the hatch began to lower, the man slowly walked to the edge with his hand grabbing the handles near the edge. He aimed the Dart and fired at each ship consecutively. Looking down at the pad on his right forearm, he had the beacon numbered from 1 to 6. All displayed 0 besides beacon 4 which had 53 heat signatures in its radius.

"Churchill, Great Britain. That's our target." Tossing the Dart toward the many containers of Talon gear, he grabbed his pistol and slid it into the holster on the left side of his chest. The knife sheath sitting horizontally on his right thigh jostled at the force he shoved the knife into place, clicking.

Natasha glanced over at him, watching him dawn the mask of the Ghost suit. He had been quiet since Harry had shown up. An abstract exclusion from the others that may have been normal, but didn't deter the man from engaging with the others. But he had seemed more interested in his gear than answering any questions Steve or Thor posed for him.

As Jaxon went to move past, she caught his arm. A worried look in her eye. "Everything all right?"

He nodded, humming. With no choice, she allowed him to walk away with a sigh as Steve stood to his feet. "All right. We'll land the Quinjet a click away from the ship and make entry on the deck with some of the gear provided by Harry," he announced. "Jax, you'll be flying solo for the first bit. Perform some recon, get a layout of the ship and find out where these guys are."

"Understood, Cap." Walking to the ramp, Jaxon pulled his knife free and tossed it at the ship, teleporting with a flash.

Landing on the deck, Jaxon grunted, shaking his head and blinking rapidly. Shaking the daze, the man ripped his knife from the metal floor and began to move toward the door leading down to the inside of the ship.

Sheathing his knife, Jaxon screwed on a suppressor to his pistol and pressed down the narrow halls of the tanker. Voices and machinery echoed, overlaying his audible footsteps. Cloaking, he moved toward the noise, picking off any guards that blocked his path and dumping them somewhere hidden for the time being.

Finally entering the storage bay, he climbed up the steps and climbed rusting beams before finding a suitable vantage point. Uncloaking and looking around the bay.

He pressed his finger to his earpiece. "Cap, this is Ghost."

"What's your sitrep?"

"50-plus foot mobles in the storage bay. Guards armed with M16s roaming each hall," he listed off, glancing toward the main catwalk.

Squinting his eyes at the sight of Ultron's new body, the two Maximoffs, and Klaue. "I got a positive I.D. on our target and Ultron. They're doing a handoff of the Vibranium." He watched the transaction of Vibranium, Pietro Maximoff taking the large vial filled with the hardened material as the group continued to talk.

As the conversation went on, Klaue said something that caused Ultron to freak out and cut off the arms dealer's arm and kick him down a flight of stairs.

"Stark is... He's a sickness!"

Almost like the man could be manifested by the uttering of his name, Tony appeared with Steve and Thor at his side. "Ah, junior. You're gonna break your old man's heart."

Ultron turned to the three. "If I have to."

"Nobody has to break anything," Thor reasoned.

"Clearly you've never made an omelet," Ultron mocked.

"He beat me by one second," Tony muttered, glancing at Thor, who only scowled at the statement.

"Ah, yes. He's funny. Mr. Stark." Pietro stepped forward. "It's what? Comfortable? Like old times?" He asked, looking down at the abundant number of missiles below. A clear reminder of what the man did years ago.

"This was never my life," Tony stated, glancing around at the storage bay filled almost to the brim with weapons.

"You two can still walk away from this," Steve offered, looking at the siblings.

Wanda smiled mockingly. "Oh, we will."

"I know you've suffered."

Ultron scoffed, interjecting. He chuckled, "Captain America. God's righteous man. Pretending you could live without a war," he ridiculed. "I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but..."

"If you believe in peace, then let us keep it," Thor said, continuing to try and defuse the situation.

"I think you're confusing 'peace' with 'quiet'," Ultron challenged.

"Uh-huh. What's the vibranium for?" Tony questioned.

"I'm glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan."

All hell broke loose as Ultron had somehow managed to pull Tony forward with two Legionnaires appearing and attacking Steve and Thor. The billionaire was shot back by a blast from Ultron's hand, quickly recovering and attacking his creation.

Jaxon took potshots at Ultron as he and Tony wrestled in the air, sending one another flying into walls and different structures.

"Jax, I need your assistance!" Clint exclaimed over the comms.

Clint could barely blink before Jaxon appeared midair, tackling one of Klaue's mercs from the corner he was hiding behind. He pressed forward, using the merc's body as cover while he fired shots at the other mercs behind him before slicing the last one's throat open.

It was a sensory overload of gunfire and sparks from bullets impacting the steel walls. Tony's repulsor blasts echo like heavy drums in Jaxon's ears as he continues to dispose of the mercs that continue to press Clint and Natasha.

And it carried on like this for another few moments. Jaxon's skilled aim and experience in fighting kept him going as countless numbers of hired guns came for him, and it didn't seem like it would ever end. But that provided the comfort he needed as this was where he belonged. He was in his element.

But when all the mercenaries were dealt with, he turned around to see if Natasha had been as successful as him. Turning he was shocked to find Wanda standing in front of him with an orange tendral reaching out and softly grazing his temple. He felt it in an instant as his mind began to fog and his thoughts began to drift into open space.

Wanda watched him closely as he stumbled back, hitting a wall where he crumbled to the ground, breathing shallowly. Not uttering a single word as the man's vision began to fade out into darkness.

"Sweetheart?"

Jaxon opened his eyes and was greeted by the sight of a window peeking out into a backyard. The sun was setting with its orange glow touching the blades of grass perfectly cut at even length. A little girl ran around outside, laughing and giggling as a tiny puppy chased after her, barking.

He spun on his heel, meeting Natasha's worried eyes. "Everything all right, baby?"

Her hands cupped his face. Their immense warmth made him want to wade through the motions of what he was seeing. Embrace it full-heartedly with no apology.

"Yeah, I'm good..."

"Dad! Dad, look!" Leah came bounding around the corner into the kitchen, the puppy in her arms. "Cain is smiling." The puppy was indeed smiling, teeth and all as he snorted, looking up at Jaxon.

Jaxon smiled, brushing a hand over the animal's back. "He is."

There was a long moment where he just took in the warmth of Natasha and Leah in front of him. In their house, in peace, no one hoping to destroy the world. Just calm and normalcy that had long past them.

It was nice. It has been all he's wanted for years.

But in the blink of an eye, his senses were overwhelmed by the stench of metal and his ears heard the faint whimpers of the puppy. The sun was gone with the stillness of the night taking hold. A tightening appeared in the center of Jaxon's chest as he moved toward the noise. His footsteps were only heard by the creaking of the wood.

He had no layout of the house but did. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew where to go despite his lack of knowledge of where he was.

The living room lamp was on with the TV playing an old Disney cartoon–the old program of Steamboat Willie. And he could see Cain's tail wagging just from over the back of the couch, his whimpers growing louder with each step Jaxon took.

But when he stood at the back of the couch, his stomach churned at the sight of the two bodies laid out with their lifeless eyes staring at him. Cain sniffed Leah's bloodied hand, nudging her digits hoping for a response. Their blood soaked into the carpet that would remain until it was burned or tossed away. Clothes splashed with red and throats sliced open with pools of red streaming out.

Placing a hand over his mouth, he froze at the wet sensation now smeared. Looking down at his hands, he gasped at the red that reached up to his elbows. No wounds of his own from the attack, only their blood on him.

"Oh, God!" He looked at the puppy that stared at him curiously, unprovoked by his bloodied appearance. "Cain, c'mere, bud..."

"Excellent work, Agent Carter."

Jaxon turned to the voice and found Catherine, smiling proudly at the young. Her menacing grin made Jaxon's skin crawl as he swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to break his gaze from the woman. Like some sort of force compelled, he held attention to the woman who was hiding somewhere in the world. A piece of his past that still haunted him after all the things he'd done for her and Quantum.

Catherine smiled, raising a pistol to level with his head. The muzzle was cold against his forehead as he groaned, straining against invincible restraints. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He could only stare at the woman as she pulled the hammer down on the weapon.

"Your mission is complete."