The Soldier and His Girl. (Steve Rogers Love Story)

Thirty-Seven: Returning to Headquarters

Returning to Headquarters felt like stepping back into a world that no longer made sense. After five long years of hiding, trying to stay out of sight and avoid detection, we were finally back. But the familiar place felt empty, haunted by the ghosts of the past and the weight of our unresolved fears.

The Quinjet touched down, the landing gear hissing as it settled onto the tarmac. My eyes swept over the desolate scene before me. The once bustling HQ was eerily quiet, its usual vibrancy replaced by a somber, almost mournful silence.

Steve walked beside me, his face etched with lines of exhaustion and determination. The years had taken their toll, and the weight of responsibility seemed heavier than ever. Sam and Nat were ahead, engaged in a quiet conversation about the latest developments, their faces marked by the strain of leadership. Wanda, her usually vibrant demeanor subdued, trailed behind, lost in her thoughts.

Rhodes and Bruce met us at the landing platform. Rhodes's face was a mask of stoicism, but his eyes betrayed the seriousness of our situation. Bruce, on the other hand, looked pale and haunted. His recent encounter with Thanos and Jonathan had clearly shaken him. But it was Vision's condition that immediately caught my eye.

Vision lay on a medical bed, his form damaged and flickering with instability. His usual calm and composed demeanor was replaced by an expression of pain and weariness. The sight of him, injured and vulnerable, was a jarring reminder of the battles we had missed and the stakes that were now higher than ever.

"Bruce!" I called out, rushing to his side. "What happened? Is Vision—"

Bruce's eyes were wide with fear, his voice trembling. "It's Thanos. And Jonathan. They're working together. And Jonathan is even more dangerous than we thought."

The weight of Bruce's words hit me like a punch to the gut. I had been dreading this moment, knowing that Jonathan had embraced darkness, but hearing it from someone who had faced them firsthand was devastating. "You've seen them both?"

Bruce nodded, his fear palpable. "Thanos is a force of nature, but Jonathan... he's something else entirely. He's not just following Thanos; he's become something more—something darker. I don't even know how to describe it."

Rhodes stepped forward, his face serious and resolute. "We need to be ready. We can't afford to be caught off guard again."

I swallowed hard, the guilt of our absence weighing heavily on me. "There's something I need to tell all of you," I said, my voice shaking. "It's about Jonathan. It's a story from our past that might help us understand why he's become such a threat."

The group gathered around, their faces a mix of concern and curiosity. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself for the painful memories I was about to relive.

"It's been ten years since the night that changed everything for us," I began, my voice trembling with emotion. "Jonathan and I were in our early twenties, trying to pick up the pieces after the loss of our mother. Her death was sudden and devastating. She had been our rock, the one who kept us grounded. Losing her was like losing a part of ourselves."

The pain of those years was a sharp, unrelenting ache. "Mom was taken from us by a rare illness that no one could diagnose in time. We watched helplessly as her health deteriorated. It was like seeing a light slowly fade, leaving us in a void of darkness. Dad was shattered, and Jonathan and I were left to cope with a loss that seemed insurmountable."

I paused, struggling to control the tears that threatened to spill. "Jonathan had always struggled with his powers. The fire within him was wild, uncontrollable—a reflection of his inner turmoil. After Mom's death, his anger and grief only intensified his powers. I tried to help him, to manage the fire, but it was like trying to contain a storm."