A/N: I'm playing Clair Obscure, so there'll be little updates for a while. in other news, I watched Thunderbolts, pretty good movie imo, could've been a great one if not for the usual marvel formula. the new lore from the movie also made me think of some new ideas that I can use, so expect that.
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[Late January, 2022]
Three months had passed since Hal and the others escaped their hunters. Now, the spring semester had begun at Beckett Community College, and Hal sat quietly on one of the worn benches in his Analytical Physics class, a new student in the Engineering program.
He listened intently, taking notes in his notebook, soaking up every word the professor said.
The shrill ring of the bell snapped him out of focus, signaling the end of the lecture. Around him, students gathered their books and laptops in a hurry. The professor rattled off next week's reading assignments, but like the others, Hal was already packing up, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the exit.
This was his first real semester of 'college' life, having earned his GED over the winter and applied here right after.
Outside, the cold evening air bit at his cheeks. He inhaled deeply, savoring the crispness of winter fading into early spring. For a brief moment, it felt... peaceful.
Then, without warning, a stray brochure smacked him in the face.
Hal cursed quietly, peeling the paper off. He was about to crumple it and toss it without a second glance — until he caught sight of the words.
Looking for a cure to an "incurable" condition? Cancer. Missing limbs. Blindness. You name it! Forget those disappointing and greedy doctors — call us now! GUARANTEED results! Visit us at xxxx, xxxx, Flushing, Queens, NYC.
Hal frowned, crumpling the cheap brochure and tossing it into a nearby trash bin.
"What a load of bullshit," he muttered.
Just as he started walking again, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Unknown number.
He hesitated. Let it ring. Half a minute passed — the call ended. Then, immediately, a text popped up:
Pick up the phone, kid.
A second later, the phone rang again — same number.
Hal sighed and finally answered.
"There you go. Wasn't so hard, was it?" a cocky voice said immediately.
Hal blinked. "…Who is this?"
"What? You didn't save my number?" the voice teased. "Ouch. That stings. It's me — the guy who technically owns the building you're squatting in."
"Oh." Hal relaxed a little. "Mr. Stark. You've never called before. I didn't know your number."
"Really? Well, now you do. Make sure to save it now," Stark said dryly. "Anyway, I need you at the base. Pronto. We've got a situation — mutant related."
"Mutant?" Hal echoed, confused. "Mr. Stark, I don't—"
"Just get here, buddy. Be waiting for you." Tony interrupted, and with a click, the call ended.
Hal stared at his phone for a moment, then let out a quiet sigh and slipped it back into his pocket. Without another word, he started walking.
A few blocks later, he ducked into a narrow alleyway between two buildings — quiet, empty, and out of sight. He paused, scanning his surroundings for any stray pedestrians or security cameras. Satisfied that no one was watching, he took a deep breath.
Green energy flickered to life around him, swirling before snapping into a focused aura. In the next instant, he launched upward, rocketing into the sky and disappearing into the clouds — heading straight for the Avengers Compound.
—
Hal touched down lightly just in front of the main building at the Avengers Compound. As his boots met the pavement, the green glow around him dissipated. He straightened his clothes, adjusted the strap on his bag, and walked toward the entrance like nothing unusual had happened.
Inside, he made his way through the familiar corridors, past labs humming quietly and a few empty training rooms, until he reached the meeting room. The doors slid open to reveal Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark already gathered around the central console. All three looked up as Hal stepped in.
"That was fast," Tony remarked, raising an eyebrow. "I appreciate the hustle. I don't have a lot of time—Pepper's making dinner, and if I'm late, Morgan's gonna be disappointed. How'd you get here so quick anyway?"
"I… flew," Hal replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course," Tony muttered. "Who doesn't fly these days? It's practically common now."
"Thanks for coming, Tony," Steve said, cutting in. "We appreciate the help."
"I gotta say, Cap, when you asked for a few million to house teenagers that can shoot lasers from their eyes last fall, I figured you were pulling my leg. But fieldwork? That's usually off the menu."
"Yet here you are," Steve said.
Tony sighed. "Yeah, well… Pepper overheard our conversation. She insisted I show up in person."
"Because the stakes involve kids?" Natasha asked.
Tony didn't respond—just gestured vaguely, as if that was answer enough. "Anyway, let's get to it. I'm working on that tech you asked about, and the kid here can handle the legwork."
"I don't even know what the problem is yet," Hal said, raising a brow.
Steve looked at Hal, before saying hesitantly. "We've… found another mutant."
Hal leaned forward slightly. "Found? As in… not someone from the S.W.O.R.D. facilities?"
"...Yes," Steve confirmed, after a beat of hesitation.
Natasha brought up a holographic display. "Her name is Laurie Collins. She's fourteen, from Kent, Connecticut."
"And where is she now?" Hal asked.
"Still at home," Steve replied. "Locked herself in her room. Her parents can't reach her—and neither can anyone else."
"Why?" Hal asked, his brow furrowing. "What's going on?"
"Because of her mutation," Natasha said. "Anyone who gets close to her is affected. They break down—crying."
"She controls emotions?" Hal guessed.
"Not exactly," Tony said, stepping forward. "She doesn't just feel emotions—she broadcasts them to the others around her. Sad? Everyone around her's crying into their cereal. Angry? Welcome to the Fight Club."
Hal took a slow breath. "So if she spirals…"
"Everyone spirals with her," Natasha finished.
"Okay…" Hal mumbled. "So, what's the plan? You want me to talk to her? Because I am immune to all sorts of energy?"
"No, I'll handle it," Steve said firmly.
Tony leaned back in his chair, unimpressed. "How many times do I have to say it, Cap? If you go, you'll be a meme by sunrise. Picture it: 'Captain America sobbing in a teenager's bedroom.' It'll break the internet."
Steve gave him a flat look. "This isn't about impressions, Tony. He's a kid."
"No, it's about effectiveness," Tony countered. "The kid's a mutant—same as the girl. That means he might actually understand what she's going through. You? You're a 100-year-old war relic with no clue how teenage emotions work."
Hal raised a hand. "Okay, first of all, I'm not a kid. I'm eighteen. Legally an adult."
"We don't know your real age," Steve shot back.
"Still legally eighteen, you're the one who made my ID cap." Hal said with a shrug. "And more importantly, I asked months ago to help with this kind of stuff. Why do you not like it when I am involved?"
Steve folded his arms. "Because you told me you didn't want to be a soldier. This kind of life… I don't want you to go through it. Not after what you all have been through."
"Seriously?" Hal replied. "I'm not fighting your wars, Cap. I want to help people like me. There's a difference."
Tony snapped his fingers. "Exactly. There you go, can't argue with that."
Steve exhaled through his nose, then finally nodded. "Alright. You'll go. We move out once Tony finishes the device."
Hal blinked. "What device?"
"Power dampener," Tony said. "And before you jump down my throat—this isn't a leash like what you went through. The girl can't control her powers, and right now, she's a danger to everyone around her. This'll help her keep it contained. I'm not making some dystopian armbands as well. Think wearable tech, Apple-style. Something she can live with. So she can go back to school without being treated like a threat."
Hal nodded slowly. "Alright. Sounds fair."
Steve gestured to the door. "Go get ready. Drop your things off and meet us at the quinjet hangar."
"Yeah, yeah," Hal said, already turning. "I'm on it."
He walked out, the conversation echoing in his mind as the doors slid shut behind him.
—
Hal stood at the rear of the legendary Quinjet—the sleek aircraft that had carried the Avengers across the world on countless missions. It was his first time this close to it. The hangar's scale, the polished metal, the subtle hum of the jet's systems—it was all new to him, even if he had lived here for a couple of months already.
Footsteps echoed behind him. He turned to see Steve and Natasha entering the hangar. Both were in full tactical gear—Steve with his twin Wakandan shields strapped to his arms and a compact suitcase in hand, Natasha checking something on her wrist. Hal glanced down at his own outfit: hoodie, skinny jeans, and worn sneakers.
"I thought we were just talking to a teenage girl," Hal said, eyebrows raised, as the back ramp of the jet hissed open.
"Just in case," Steve replied without slowing down, marching up the ramp into the jet. "You never really know."
Hal followed them inside. "Right. Guess I'm underdressed, then."
"You're not here to fight," Nat called back, sliding into the pilot's seat. "You're here to talk. Hoodie works just fine."
Hal found a seat and buckled in. Steve sat across from him, his eyes lingering on Hal a little longer than Hal liked. The jet sealed shut behind them, the engines kicked in, and moments later they lifted off into the sky.
"ETA, fifteen minutes," Natasha said over the comm.
"Copy that," Steve replied.
Silence settled in. The hum of the engines filled the space between them, but Hal could still feel Steve's watchful gaze. Finally, he spoke.
"You know, I haven't heard anything about the other mutants for a while," Hal said. "A whole month now."
"They're still adjusting," Steve said, finally breaking his stare. "You don't have to carry their weight. Let the experts help them. That's what they're there for."
Hal gave a sarcastic chuckle. "It's hard not to worry when I've never even met them."
Steve sighed. "Hal, you're not much older than the others. You shouldn't take their trauma on yourself. You've already got enough on your plate with your own friends."
"They're doing fine," Hal said, leaning back. "Better than fine, actually. They seem… happy. Starting over."
Steve looked at him carefully. "But are you happy?"
Hal blinked. "I got my GED. I'm going to community college. That's enough for now. Aside from, well… you know."
"We'll talk about that later," Steve said quickly.
"You said that three months ago," Hal replied, crossing his arms. "And now you're saying it again. So when, exactly, is later?"
Steve hesitated, his expression tightening. "I've always had a hard time with kids on the team. That kid from Queens… He was young. And now he's gone. Then you showed up."
"Like I said, I'm not asking to be an Avenger, Cap," Hal said. "I just want to help people like me."
"You talk like you're the only one who can," Steve replied. "Like it's your burden alone. But Nat and I, the whole team—we're doing everything we can to find these kids and help them before something terrible happens. You know how dangerous uncontrolled powers can be."
Hal didn't argue right away. He just looked out the window, watching the dark clouds blur past, the silence saying what he didn't.
"I'm sorry, Cap," Hal said quietly, eyes fixed ahead. "But you're not like me. You're not like them. You might be Captain America, but at the end of the day… you represent humanity. Not us."
Steve's brow furrowed. "Aren't you part of humanity, too?"
Hal looked down at the cold metal floor beneath his feet. "I don't know. That's not really up to me. It's up to the world."
"What do you mean by that?"
Hal's voice tightened. "New York. D.C. Sokovia. Lagos. All those incidents… they pushed the world into making the Sokovia Accords—rules meant for people like you. And you refused to sign them. You and the Avengers, you're an organized group. You have names, uniforms, oversight—sort of. But what about us mutants? What happens if one of us causes an accident like Sokovia? Or worse?"
He looked up at Steve, expression solemn.
"How will governments react then? How will the people react? Especially if they learn that mutants are linked to the same forces that made half the universe disappear? Do you really think they'll still see us as human? Or will they label us as something else—something to be controlled, feared, maybe even erased? You do the math, Cap."
"That's exactly why we work so hard, Hal. To prevent that future. To stop things before they go wrong."
Hal gave a bitter chuckle. "And who is 'we,' exactly? A handful of you scattered across the planet? One of you refuses to leave the lab. Another locked himself away with his people. Some are off-world. The rest are tied up putting out fires that keep popping up faster than they can be handled. You're stretched thin, Cap. You can't do this alone."
He leaned forward slightly.
"So let me help. At least this way, I can believe I have some kind of control. Some way to keep those nightmares from becoming real… or at least delay them."
Steve didn't respond right away. He sat back slowly, resting his head against the seat, his eyes cast downward. A long silence passed before he finally sighed.
"Alright," he said. "If we detect another mutant… you'll be the first to know."
Hal nodded once. "Thank you."
Natasha, silent until now, broke the tension with a glance over her shoulder from the cockpit.
"Alright, boys, we're coming up on the target," she said. "Landing in the forest just outside town. It'll be a bit of a hike from there."