S.H.I.E.L.D. Medbay – One Hour Earlier
The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the sterile white room.
Toni Stark stirred.
Eyes fluttering. Breaths uneven.
Then—
Her lashes parted, revealing hazel eyes, bleary but aware. Her gaze roamed the ceiling, then slowly turned to her left—and froze.
There he was.
Stephen Lance Carter.
Sitting in a chair too small for his broad frame. His tailored black suit wrinkled from sleeping upright. A tray of untouched food sat on the side. A tablet blinked with hundreds of ignored messages.
His hand was resting on the edge of her bed.
She whispered hoarsely. "You look like shit."
His eyes snapped open—and the exhaustion vanished, replaced by stunned relief and something deeper.
"Toni..."
"You waited?"
"I never left."
She laughed softly, a rasping chuckle. "You really must like me."
He leaned closer, eyes shimmering. "More than you know."
Silence hung between them.
And then she reached out, touched his face—and pulled him into a kiss.
It wasn't a kiss of lust. Not at first. It was a kiss of memory. Of survival. Of grief and gratitude. Her hands trembled against his cheeks, her lips moving hungrily with his as if afraid he'd disappear again.
Then, passion ignited.
Her body arched. His hand gripped her waist. Her legs shifted to pull him closer into the bed.
His scent. His warmth. It overwhelmed her.
Toni's thoughts:
Goddammit, this isn't supposed to be happening. I'm supposed to like girls. I told myself I only loved his mind, his loyalty. But right now, his lips feel like heaven. His arms feel like home. And I don't care anymore. Not when the world is ending.
Lance's thoughts crashed like waves.
He was back in Malibu, 1992.
Teenage Toni in an oversized Iron Maiden hoodie, cursing at an arc reactor prototype while he sat beside her with ice cream.
She'd cried after Howard died. And he held her all night.
The first time he felt it—that need to protect her not just as a friend, but as something far more. That night under the stars, when she fell asleep on his chest, murmuring equations in her sleep.
Back then, he hadn't known what to call it.
Now, he did.
Love.
The kiss deepened. His hands moved through her short, sweat-matted hair. Her legs curled around his back.
Until—
"Ahem."
The door hissed open.
Maria Hill, arms crossed, holding a clipboard. Behind her, Daisy Johnson peeking over her shoulder. And beside them, Natasha Romanoff, visibly unamused.
Dead silence.
Lance froze, still halfway in bed with Toni. Toni blinked, lips swollen and hair mussed.
Daisy grinned. "Well damn, I thought you were still in a coma."
Natasha arched a brow. "Apparently she woke up... and chose chaos."
Toni grinned, utterly unashamed. "Ladies, if you wanted in, you should've just asked."
Maria cleared her throat. "We brought updates. Also coffee. And, you know, modesty."
Lance stood, adjusting his tie. "You could've knocked."
"We did," Natasha deadpanned. "Twice. You were just...busy."
Daisy smirked. "Hot and busy."
Toni cocked a brow, sensing the awkward tension. She glanced at Lance, then back at the three women.
"Oh... oh my god. You all like him."
Three sets of eyes blinked—simultaneously denying nothing and saying everything.
Toni snorted. "You all have a weird thing for your boss-slash-dad-figure. That's... deeply disturbing. And kinda hot."
Maria snapped, "We're professionals."
"Professionals who are clearly repressing the fact that Daddy President is very, very kissable."
Daisy groaned, covering her face. "Can we please move on?"
Natasha added dryly, "Let's. Before someone writes a fanfic about this."
Everyone laughed—except Lance, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
But the mood shifted abruptly.
The wall monitor came to life with a sudden blip, and the room dimmed.
BREAKING NEWS — LIVE FROM NEW YORK
A stern-looking anchorwoman appeared.
"It has been exactly one month since the event unofficially dubbed the 'Ascension Incident', in which President Carter was abducted during a live press conference, followed by a catastrophic magnetic anomaly over Washington D.C. This has triggered the most significant geopolitical ripple since the 9/11 of New York."
Footage played:
Washington's skies crackling red with magnetic fire.
The Lincoln Memorial half-demolished.
Civilians running as shockwaves rolled through the Capitol.
The anchor continued.
"In the aftermath, over $2.3 billion in damages were reported. 112 injured. 8 dead. The United Nations has formally requested full transparency on President Carter's new abilities, citing Article 7 of the Enhanced Human Oversight Accord."
Cut to:
A heated EU Parliament session.
Wakanda's king addressing the African Security Council.
Chinese and Russian officials walking out of a Geneva summit.
"The Council has called an emergency vote to place limitations on America's use of metahuman leaders in office—accusing the U.S. of violating the international balance of power."
The screen faded to black.
No one spoke.
Toni stared, fists clenched in the bedsheets.
"They're going to turn on you," she whispered. "They don't care you saved us. They only care that you're stronger than them now."
Lance's jaw ticked.
"I know."
Maria added softly, "The knives are already out. They're scared."
Natasha folded her arms. "They should be."
Toni reached for Lance's hand.
"You're not just a man anymore. You're something else. And they're going to paint a target on your back."
Lance looked at her.
At them.
And something resolute formed in his eyes.
Let them come.
He had everything to fight for now.