Rain lashed the windows of the Queens apartment like it was trying to get in.
Alex stood at the kitchen counter, tablet glowing with Aether's alert feed. Gwen sat on the couch arm, legs dangling, webbing idly spinning between her fingers. Wanda leaned against the doorway—red energy humming low, watchful.
The alert tone cut through the room—sharp, urgent.
Alex swiped. "Hydra cell. Eastern Europe. Relief convoy carrying… vibranium traces and something with Mind Stone resonance. They're hitting it in 90 minutes."
Gwen's webs snapped taut. "How many?"
"Small strike team—eighteen operatives, light armor, energy weapons. Convoy has NGO staff, medical supplies, and… kids. Orphaned from Sokovia cleanup."
Wanda's red flared brighter—anger, grief, protectiveness all at once. "We can't let them."
Alex looked between them—heart heavy. "It's not registered. No Avengers. No SHIELD backup. If we go, it's just us."
Gwen slid off the couch, stepping close. "Then it's just us."
Wanda crossed to him—hand finding his. "We go together. No one stays behind."
Alex exhaled—fear and resolve warring in his chest. "I can't lose either of you. Not after everything."
Gwen cupped his face. "You won't. We're stronger together—remember? Your words."
Wanda pressed closer—forehead against his shoulder. "I've lost too much already. I won't lose this. Not when it finally feels real."
Alex pulled them both in—arms tight around them. "Okay. We go. We protect them. We come home."
They packed light: Gwen's web-shooters (now refined), Wanda's chaos control focused, Alex's multi-trait loadout + new resonance harmony. Aether prepped the jet—stealth mode, fastest route.
Before they left, Alex stopped at the door.
He turned to them—voice low, raw.
"I love you both. More than the powers. More than the fight. If something happens—"
Gwen cut him off with a fierce kiss—then another for Wanda, soft and sure.
"Nothing's happening," she said. "We come back. All three of us."
Wanda kissed him next—deep, trembling. "We come back."
They stepped into the rain—three silhouettes against the city glow.
Jet engines hummed to life.
Somewhere in Eastern Europe, a convoy rolled on—unaware death was coming.
And three people who refused to let it win were flying straight into the storm.
Together.
(Word count: 1002)