Chapter Text
Carol's sat eating cereal (Cap'n America Crunch, so damn patriotic), and playing Mario Kart when the signal comes through.
At least, she thinks it's a signal. But it's coming from Chewie's high-tech collar. Her cat is sprawled on the sofa like she owns the place, purring in satisfaction, when the pandemonium kicks in.
Chewie had been a housewarming gift from Fury, and the director had attached a note to the kitten's crate that reasoned she could help Carol 'acclimate', after she'd been unceremoniously pulled into a new century a few months ago.
Apparently, she wasn't the first hero-out-of-time Fury had dealt with, and he'd come to the conclusion that a pet would make things easier. It made Carol wonder what'd gone wrong with the other nomad. Or perhaps she was better off not knowing.
So, Chewie was a nice gesture, but honestly, given all the new Star Wars material Carol had discovered upon acquiring an internet connection, she'd been keeping so busy that there wasn't even time to freak out about her new living situation.
Even so, it hadn't taken Carol long to realise that her cat wasn't exactly a cat, but a similar looking alien species (thank you for the biology lessons, Mar-Vell). Not only was this the case, but Chewie's collar and its attached beacon seemed a point of pride for the not-cat, and Carol hadn't been able to get close enough to examine it properly without Chewie hissing wildly at her. It was like Gollum and the damn One Ring (She'd also been catching up on the Tolkien adaptations...).
The alien thing she could handle. After all, it wasn't like Carol could call herself wholly-human. She just hoped she could continue to feed Chewie like any other cat, otherwise they'd have some problems. So far, though, so good.
She hadn't seen Fury since her day of arrival, but had grown to know his deputy Maria Hill quite well. She'd been the one to deliver Chewie, and since then had dropped by regularly for briefings and to answer general questions. Carol hoped they'd become something like friends, but the woman was hard to read. She had been impressed by Carol's ability to heat up their popcorn with her powers, though. Plus, she'd warned her about the dangers of the Star Wars prequels. (Carol was glad she hadn't had to wait years for those.) So, in her mind, that was something like friendship.
Chewie's beacon was a shrill sound, jolting Carol out of her Mario Kart craze.
Carol dropped the controller and got to her feet, just as the scream of sirens erupted from the city below. Carol ran to her window, peering out at Washington DC, fallen into carnage. Smoke was emanating from a building a few blocks to her left, and she saw a crater where a helicopter had crashed into a skyscraper. The neon lights of emergency service vehicles cut through the haze of the wreckage. Carol turned to her TV, grasping her remote and turning the channel to the news. The anchor was shouting something about aliens and disappearances, but as she watched the man started to disintegrate, leaving his microphone to clatter to the floor.
"Holy shit!" Carol exclaimed, running to pick up Chewie, who was pawing at her beeping collar.
Carol held Chewie up, Lion-King style, so she could read the message that lit up the tiny screen. She ignored the cat's indignant hisses.
"Oh, damn," she said, dropping Chewie back into her place on the couch. The cat let out a meow of irritation. "Sorry, Chewie, gotta run."
Carol turned on her heel, costume forming in a ripple around her. She pulled on her cowl, smiling despite herself. Finally. She ran to the windows once more, throwing open her balcony doors.
"If I'm not home tonight, Chewie, get Jess to feed you," her neighbour, Jessica Drew, had won Chewie's affections. Chewie gave a meow that Carol would translate as 'get a move on'. She didn't need to be told twice.
Captain Marvel leapt into the air, reaching higher, further, stretching faster towards the edge of the atmosphere.
Time to save the galaxy.
No pressure.