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Flying across the city is pretty fucking cool.
There isn’t even one moment when Stiles is worried that Stark might drop him. The Iron Man suit is just somehow stable in a way that doesn’t feel risky. He also trusts Stark. It’s an odd realization to have in the midst of a rescue attempt, but he can’t deny that it’s true.
Stark suspects something about the apartment fire, seeing as he knows there weren’t any sprinklers, but he hasn’t done anything more than consider it another challenge to solve. Today, he learned about werewolves and was more focused on Stiles using his first name than he was about a creature from storybooks literally standing in front of him. The werewolf was just another day at the office for him.
When they land under the High Bridge, Tony—because, really, he hasn’t been Stark since he kept the sprinklers a secret—waits until he’s on solid ground before loosening his hold on Stiles. “Alright, kid. We’re here. Seemed like the best spot to coordinate since there’s a bend in the road before reaching the fence surrounding the rail yard.”
“Yeah, it looks good,” Stiles agrees, looking around. There isn’t anything in the immediate area other than railroad tracks. “Thanks for the ride, Tony. I don’t think I could have stood the tension in the car ride here.”
“Man, if that’s all it took to get you to use my name, I’d have flown you around before now,” Tony says with a laugh. “Hell, I’d have just made you your own suit. Pep has one, and so does Rhodey. I haven’t figured out what your story is yet, but a suit can go with just about everything, can’t it?”
“A suit wouldn’t have earned you anything, dumbass. It takes more than a shiny gift to earn my trust,” Stiles says. “Besides, I’m clumsy, so a suit wouldn’t be a good thing for me. How long do you think it’ll be before the others are here? The flight didn’t feel super fast, but it was definitely better than being stuck in traffic.”
“Jarvis, where’s Happy right now?” Tony asks. He nods a couple of times at whatever Jarvis is telling him. “They’re on 87 headed in this direction. About ten minutes ETA if traffic stays as it is. What kind of tension are you thinking there is?”
“Peter is on high alert right now because they took Lydia. Not only that, but you found out about his kind, which is a pretty big deal even if he acted blasé about telling you,” Stiles says. “That’s just because he knows I trust you and consider you almost like part of our pack. And Nat’s just unpredictable overall. I don’t really trust her, so Peter and Braeden will pick on that.”
Tony’s eyes practically light up with excitement. “So werewolves travel in packs that can include badass lady fighters and smartass residents. Is there a social hierarchy within the pack?” Tony asks. “Like alpha and beta. That kind of thing. What’s that Jarvis? Oh, really? You think so?” He stares at Stiles intently. “Jarvis said that you’re obviously the alpha because the others looked to you for guidance and were ready to kill to protect you.”
“Jarvis thinks that, huh?” Stiles says. “Now, an iron suit wouldn’t be good for me since I’d probably crash or hurt myself somehow, but it would be awesome to have Jarvis in a helmet. Only not an actual helmet because that wouldn’t be very discreet.”
“No, it wouldn’t, especially since you don’t have a bicycle or a motorcycle,” Tony agrees. “Your birthday’s in April, isn’t it? Gives me time to experiment and see what I can create. I only say that because Jarvis overheard you and seems excited at the idea. I normally wouldn’t share him so easily, but you’re his research bestie.”
“Yeah, I am,” Stiles says smugly. Looking around, he becomes more serious. “Is Pep okay with you being here right now? I really don’t want to upset her because she scares me more than Braeden and Nat working together would.”
Tony snorts. “What a woman, right? I almost lost her more times than I care to remember,” he says, looking towards the river. “I’m not going to do anything that makes me lose her now. She’s aware that I’m participating in the takedown of Hydra’s local HQ. Compared to going to outer space and fighting world destroying aliens, this is just another day at the office, kid. It’s those things that I’ve promised to take a step back on and leave to the other Avengers. You haven’t met him yet, but Thor can handle most of the off- Earth stuff for us.”
Stiles blinks and takes a moment to absorb all of that. “Outer space and aliens, huh? Talking raccoons who want Bucky’s arm. That kind of thing? That’s something that really happened then. I mean, I knew it did because Buck isn’t going to lie to me, but I never really thought about the logistics or what it actually meant.”
“Did he tell you about the sentient tree?” Tony asks, snickering when Stiles stares at him. “Yeah, now you see why I just rolled with the whole werewolf thing. Nothing really phases me anymore, kid. So your uncle gets super hairy on a full moon. That’s nothing compared with mutant shape shifters and aliens.”
“I’m really starting to understand why Buck reacted so well and was more curious than worried,” he mutters, rubbing his temples. So maybe the whole superhero thing is way more complicated and involved than dealing with Dr. Doom’s UST for Mr.
Fantastic.
“Good grief. Incoming SHIELD agents,” Tony says suddenly, his casual smile twisting into a frown. “They’re the ones Nat trusts, but I don’t like any of them on principle. These are our little collection of them, thank fuck, and not random ones from the mothership. Maria isn’t as shady as Fury was, but don’t ever tell any of them more than they need to know. Got it, kid?”
“Understood,” Stiles says, looking at the dark SUV curiously. All four doors open at the same time, and he rolls his eyes at the synchronization. There are five people who get out of the vehicle, all wearing sunglasses and black clothes. He studies them for a moment, noting the different ages and presenting genders. The woman who looks around his age seems to be the lead, since she’s the one walking over to them.
“Mr. Stark,” she greets politely before looking at Stiles. “Dr. Stilinski.” Her lips quirk slightly when he arches a brow at the mention of his name. “Where is Agent Romanoff? We’re here and ready to go.”
“Agent Johnson,” Tony drawls, “while you are ever so slightly more tolerable than the rest of your suit-wearing tribe, do you think that we’re concealing Natasha in our pockets? And stop looking at the good doctor like he’s a tasty treat that you want to devour.”
“You make my curiosity sound inappropriate, Mr. Stark,” she points out, smirking as she looks at Stiles. “Do forgive the old timer’s inaccurate analogy, Dr. Stilinski. Our team has been working closely with Agent Romanoff on the Nergal cell, including surveillance on Dr. Wash. She informed us that a majority of our leads were coming from you, which is intriguing.”
“Was your team surveilling when a Hydra agent threw him off the balcony?” he asks sweetly. “If so, it doesn’t seem like your team is necessarily good at the protection part of things.”
She grins suddenly. “Oh, you’re sassy. I like you,” she says. “I’m Agent Daisy Johnson, and, no, my team was not on duty the night that Dr. Wash was murdered. If we had been, we’d have kept him alive.”
“Are you suggesting that whoever was on duty allowed it to happen?” Stiles asks, watching a fierce expression cross her face.
“Allowed? No. Failed to prevent? Yes,” she says. “Someone was able to get into the building unnoticed under their watch. It isn’t blaming anyone other than the person who did it, but there is responsibility that they have to accept.”
“Well, your team is on duty now, so it’s your responsibility to ensure that no harm comes to my sister,” Stiles says simply, meeting her gaze steadily. She nods her head once, and he looks at Tony. “Are the others close?”
Tony looks between him and Johnson before he nods. “They’ll be here soon. You should get your team ready, Agent Johnson.”
“We’ll be ready to go, Mr. Stark,” she says, starting to walk back to her SUV. She stops and looks at him. “Dr. Stilinski, you should consider remaining back with the vehicles. We’re dealing with Hydra soldiers and a local sect that seems incredibly volatile. If we’re having to worry about your safety, too, it could work against us.”
“I appreciate your concern, Agent Johnson, but you don’t need to worry about my safety,” Stiles tells her. “I can take care of myself. It was nice to meet you.”
She shakes her head and walks back to her team.
Tony snorts. “She’s one of the more tolerable ones, mostly because I think she breaks their stupid rules whenever necessary, so I have to admire that.”
“Looks like the others are here,” Stiles says, seeing a car approach. The doors open, and Peter’s the first one out. He quickly walks over to them and looks Stiles over. “The flight over was safe, Peter. Tony wouldn’t drop me even if I am a smartass.”
“It would have to be better than driving through pre-Christmas traffic in a car with multiple strangers,” Peter grumbles. “I might have scent marked James because he smells so much like you, which led to an uncomfortable moment with that Natasha woman questioning my relationship to both of you.”
“Scent marked how?” Stiles asks, arching a brow as he sees the others walking their way. Bucky seems okay—more focused and intense than usual but that’s because he’s in work mode.
“I buried my face in his neck at one point, but that’s all,” Peter says, which makes Stiles reach over to squeeze his neck in a comforting way. “Completely chaste and harmless, but these humans don’t understand pack and the stabilizing force of certain scents.”
“Hey, Doc,” Bucky says as he reaches them. “Nice flight? I see that the agents have arrived. Daisy’s pretty cool, but I haven’t really had a chance to get to know any of the others. They’re good at their jobs, though, and trustworthy.”
“Yeah, it was really cool,” he says, leaning over to kiss Bucky’s jaw. “I met Agent Johnson. She suggested that I stay back with the cars while the rest of you go fight Hydra and rescue Lydia. I let her know that I won’t be doing that.” He smiles at the look on Bucky’s face. “I don’t care that I’m underestimated, Buck. It works in my favor.”
“Well, it looks like the gang’s all here,” Sam says, clapping his hands together once. “Do we know the plan? You know what, let’s review it anyway. There are three entry points.” He kicks some rocks over until they’re roughly in the right positions. “Daisy, your team should take this one.” He taps the rock on the far side with his foot. “Two other teams can go in through these points. Tony, you fly to the roof and make sure no one tries to escape that way.”
“Stark, take Zhao with you,” Bucky says. “She’s the best shooter other than me, and I’m going to be busy elsewhere. Let’s divide teams. Braeden and Nat through this entry, and Sam and I can take the other. Peter and Stiles can come in after we have gained access. Everyone’s priority is getting Lydia Martin to safety. Secondary priority is capturing as many Hydra agents as possible. If everyone’s clear on the mission, shall we go kick some Hydra ass?”
Watching Bucky in his element is sexy. It’s almost distractingly so, but Stiles is focused on two things—get Lydia and find the boss. Potentially kill the boss. His natural instinct is to kill first and deal with the emotions after, but he knows that taking one of the heads of the local Hydra cell alive could be important for national security reasons.
There aren’t any cameras on the fence, which seems odd. He’d expect there to be some posted around monitoring the parameter. Daisy’s team is making the front advance, creeping along like they’re cloaked in darkness instead of the afternoon sun. He sees one of the agents stop midway and pull out a keyboard.
“They’re hacking into the security system, Doc,” Bucky murmurs against his ear. “Taking out the interior and exterior cameras. Stark did reconnaissance as he flew over, so we were able to determine where they have exterior monitoring.”
“Huh, that’s cool,” he whispers back. “I was wondering why there weren’t any cameras on the fence. Guess they’re all closer to the building, which makes sense if they’re renting the building and not all of the grounds, too.”
“I put Peter with you so you’re both able to use your powers, if needed,” Bucky says. “Braeden’s human, so Nat can’t be suspicious of anything other than her skill. Why did Stark look so smug when we got there?”
“Tony,” Stiles says, snorting. “I’m calling him Tony, and he seems to consider that some sort of win. He also found out about werewolves, but we didn’t have a conversation about that yet.”
“How did he find out, Doc?” Bucky asks, his hand moving to Stiles’ hip and squeezing gently. “Do you want me to threaten him? I know you don’t need me to, but I’m happy to do it anyway. He’s already so egotistical that this will probably just make him worse.”
“Peter was ready to attack when we didn’t realize who it was,” Stiles says. “Tony tried to shoot him with a laser, and Peter shifted. It was a bit of a mess, but I actually do trust Tony, Buck.”
“Do you know who the boss is?” Bucky asks softly. “If Lydia was able to give you enough information to find out where they’re keeping her, I can’t help but think she’d have told you something if she recognized them. Maybe she doesn’t, though.”
“Lydia gave me two pieces of information that made me see everything with much more clarity than I have been,” he admits quietly. “It’s kind of like having smudges on your glasses. You can see some things but maybe they don’t make sense. Then you clean them off and everything is clear.”
“Hey, it’s time. You can chit chat later, after we get Lydia free,” Sam says, lightly punching Bucky’s right arm. “Let’s get into position. Nat and Braeden are waiting for us.”
“Good luck,” Stiles says, kissing Bucky quickly. “Be careful out there. Don’t get yourself shot, either. I want to see your stupid face unharmed when this is all over. Got it?”
Bucky grins at him. “Yeah, I got it,” he says, kissing him. “You better take your own advice, too. Your stupid face doesn’t need to be hurt, either. If you find Lydia first, get her out of here. Don’t be a hero, Doc. Got it?”
“I’ll leave the hero thing for Sammy,” Stiles says, winking at Sam, who rolls his eyes at their antics. “Go on. I’ll hang back with Peter until you’ve cleared the entry. Lydia’s waiting for us.”
Bucky takes off with Sam, and Stiles feels Peter approaching. “We should get into position, sweetheart,” Peter says. “I can smell her scent already, so it won’t take us long to locate her. Do you feel your bond with her? As alpha, you should be able to let her know we’re close.”
“I’ll try,” Stiles says. “I’m still trying to get an understanding of the whole bond thing and how it all works. Once this is all over and there’s time to breathe, you can give me some lessons.”
“It does take time to learn how to navigate the bonds, even for born wolves, so don’t be too hard on yourself,” Peter says, squeezing his shoulder. “From what I’ve seen, you’re likely to be a natural.”
“Where do you think they’re keeping her?” Stiles asks, slowly walking towards the large building. “Can you tell how many people are in there? I wasn’t sure if there were too many heartbeats to count or not.”
“If I really tried to focus, I could give you a number,” Peter says. “However, there are multiple people on our side to consider, too.” He frowns and cocks his head like he’s listening. “Not including ourselves, I count thirty-six. Lydia is on the second floor, in the back. Her scent is more muted and her heartbeat isn’t as loud. There are many people between us and her.”
“Get us to her,” he says simply. “I don’t care if we have to kill Hydra agents who get in the way. I know that whoever this boss is won’t be out mingling with the soldiers, so we won’t be at risk of accidentally killing them. I’d expect any high level agents are guarding Lydia.”
Peter smiles, showing his teeth as he flexes his claws. A flash of his eyes lets Stiles know that he understands. They move closer, and he watches as the team he can see, which consists of Bucky and Sam, bust through the door. There’s the sound of shouting followed by gunshots.
Concentrating on Lydia, he sends out we’re here, stay calm, give us time, love you vibes through the bond and hopes she can feel them even if she doesn’t know what he’s thinking. He and Peter approach the door, and he calls his magic forward to provide him with protection. He can’t risk protecting everyone, but he does send power through his pack bonds. His magic will recognize pack, and it’ll provide them with extra protection through this.
That way, he can keep his attention on the mission and not have any unnecessary concerns distracting him. He’s carrying one of Braeden’s guns, since he obviously can’t use his magic with all these people around, and he enters the building behind Peter.
It’s an odd mixture of warehouse and office, poorly lit due to no windows and only fluorescent lights overhead. They move past people fighting, guns on the floor with fists taking their place. He notices someone aiming at Peter, and he has his gun raised before the guy can pull the trigger. He shoots, watching the guy fall back onto the floor.
The air is heavy with chaos and strife. It’s delicious, the darkness within feasting on it happily. It gives him a boost of power, and he has to close his eyes for a second to gain control of it. Storing it away, he clears his mind and opens his eyes, staring at Peter.
Peter looks at him, nodding once before tilting his head to the right. Stiles glances over to see a door marked stairs. He walks past Peter, turning the knob and letting it swing open. He sees a flash of gunfire, then hears the strangled gurgling of someone trying to breathe as Peter slices his claws through the neck of the shooter. It’s a woman who falls forward, lying on the ground bleeding.
Stiles gives Peter a thumbs up before stepping over the body and entering the staircase. There’re shots coming from above him, so he aims and shoots, stepping out of the way as a body falls to the ground by his feet. He barely steps back fast enough to avoid getting blood on his shoes. Peter does a golf clap, grinning as he jumps over the body and lands on the second stair.
When Peter tilts his head, he holds up five fingers and nods upwards. Stiles lacks the werewolf grace, so he doesn’t try jumping over the corpse. Instead, he steps around it to get to the staircase. It doesn’t take too long to reach the second floor, and he notices that it’s quieter up here. Most of the action is taking place downstairs.
As they leave the stairwell, Peter takes the lead. There are two soldiers in the hall, so he rushes forward with a growl, claws raised while Stiles moves past them. A wild swing clips his jaw, so he swings his arm, hitting the agent with the gun he’s holding. They tussle briefly, his gun getting knocked out of his hand. He has to dodge another hit, squatting down and pulling the knife out of his boot. Straightening up, he thrusts it into the stomach of the agent, feeding on the pain as he pulls the knife back out.
The body is pulled back by Peter, who quickly twists the agent’s head to break his neck. Stiles wipes his knife on the Hydra agent’s shirt before putting it back in his boot. He takes his gun from Peter, who picked it up off the floor where it fell. He holds up three fingers and gives Peter a questioning look.
A nod confirms that there are still three people on this floor besides Lydia. They hurry down the hall, not encountering anyone else. Peter stops them outside a closed door, his nostrils flaring as his eyes flash blue. This must be where they have Lydia. He shoves any remaining emotions he’s feeling aside so he can focus on defeating the boss and getting Lydia out of this.
With a nod at Peter, he watches him open the door and shove it open. They both wait as they hear guns firing. While the bullets will have to run out eventually, Lydia is in there. He hears noise coming from behind them, turning with his gun raised to see Sam and Bucky running their direction.
Suddenly, the sound of a low scream becomes audible. It’s coming from the room, and he knows it’s Lydia. It gets louder as the gunshots stop. Then, it’s silent. Sam looks confused, but Bucky exchanges a look with him and mouths, Was that Lydia?
“Stiles, the boss isn’t here,” Lydia calls out. “You know where they are, don’t you? They left and planned to return to get me for the exchange. Go end this! Peter, are you out there? Get in here and untie me.”
“If it’s who I think it is, I know where to find them,” he says, dreading confirmation but prepared for it. He walks inside the room and sees the dead agents with blood pooling around their ears. Lydia looks at him, and he doesn’t need her to answer. He can see it in her eyes. He looks away, meeting Bucky’s concerned gaze. “I have to go. I know who the boss is, and I’m going to end this.”
“I’m coming with you,” Bucky says. “Don’t give me that look. Do you think I’m just gonna stay here while you go face the local Hydra boss on your own? Yeah, you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t deal with this alone. I’m not being overprotective or unreasonable here.”
“I’ll take Tony,” Stiles says. “I need to fly, Buck. We’re too close in time for the boss to come back here and realize we’re here. If he flies me, I can intercept them. I need you to make sure that Lydia’s okay and to take care of my pack.”
“You stubborn bastard,” Bucky growls, shoving him against the wall and kissing him passionately. “Fine, go take care of this boss, and I’ll get our pack to safety. Be careful, Doc.”
“No heroics, Buck. I promise,” he says. He looks at Lydia and Peter, nodding at them before he turns and runs down the hall until he finds the roof access. Taking the steps two at a time, he reaches the roof and opens the door, calling out, “It’s Stiles. Don’t shoot.”
“What are you doing up here, kid?” Tony asks, lowering his arm as Stiles steps out onto the roof. “Are we done? Is everyone dead or captured? I still hear gunshots.”
“I need you to take me somewhere,” he says, nodding at the woman dressed in black that was sent to the roof with Tony. Zhao, wasn’t it? “We have Lydia, and they’re securing the rest of the building, but I have to go now. The boss isn’t here, but I know where to find them.”
“Are you sure about this? If they’re a Hydra boss, they’re probably armed,” Tony says. “We can finish here then go as a team to capture them.”
“If they come here expecting to get Lydia for an information exchange and find it taken over, they’ll make a run for it,” Stiles says. “I’m sure about this, Tony. I need to tie this thread.”
Tony nods. “Then let’s go,” he says. “We don’t want to be forced to hunt for someone else if they vanish into thin air. It took a while to find Driskill, and he wasn’t smart enough to be the head of a Hydra cell.”
Stiles tells him where they need to go before he steps forward. Tony holds him as he takes flight, moving with more speed than previously. He has to turn his face into the chest of the suit because the wind is stinging. He doesn’t care, though, because it means they’ll get this over with sooner rather than later.
When Tony slowly puts them down on a sidewalk near their final destination, Stiles regains his equilibrium. “I need you to stay here, Tony,” he says, looking at him.
“I think I’m pretty noticeable here, kid,” Tony points out. “I don’t like the idea of you going by yourself, but I also understand that seeing me could set Hydra off immediately. I’ll wait over there between the houses, and I want you to let me know when you need back-up.”
“Sure, I can do that,” Stiles says. “Maybe I won’t need back-up.” He leaves Tony, walking briskly towards the house. With each step he takes, he tucks any lingering emotions aside and focuses on his control.
The person he’s going to see isn’t the same person that he’s known for the past three years. A wannabe Raeken. That’s what Lydia said. He wishes it was more of a surprise, but he thinks that maybe subconsciously he’s been suspicious for a while but just didn’t want to believe it. As he approaches the front door, he still doesn’t want to believe it.
There are children’s toys scattered on the yard of the three-bedroom house in Yonkers. The grass has been freshly cut, but the sidewalk is still slightly overgrown. He opens the gate and walks a path that he’s walked a half dozen times, at least. There are four stairs that lead to a small porch covered by an old metal awning.
Before he can knock, the door opens. “Dr. S, what a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see you until after Christmas.”
“Are you on your own right now?” he asks, putting his hands in his pockets as he looks around. He needs to do this, but he doesn’t want children injured in the crossfire. “I need to talk to you, but I’d rather not interrupt.”
“Since I’m working tonight and tomorrow, Rajiv and his mother took the children to spend Christmas with their aunt in New Haven,” Trini says, looking at him curiously. “You do realize that it’s Christmas Eve, don’t you, Stiles?” She’s smiling like normal as she steps back and opens the door wider. “Why don’t you come in, and we can have that talk?”
“I actually hadn’t realized,” he admits, walking into the house and facing her, not trusting her to be behind his back. “It’s been so busy lately that my brain is in overload mode. I remember that tomorrow is Christmas, but it didn’t click that today is Eve.”
“Things have been rather crazy recently,” she agrees, closing the door and then turning to face him. “Last night, Dr. Stone missed his shift. He didn’t call in, and no one was able to get hold of him. It’s odd because he’s never had a no show. Then, to top off the craziness, I went upstairs to check on Lucas, and he’s under guard now. They aren’t letting anyone in to see him.”
“That’s odd,” he says, watching her face. “I seem to remember you telling me that Lucas wasn’t part of our work family. In fact, you were pretty adamant about the fact he was only working there until something else came along. I’m just surprised you wanted to see him.”
“Just because he isn’t part of our family doesn’t mean that I can’t be concerned,” she says. “Would you like something to drink, Stiles? It’s cold out today, so I have fresh coffee in the kitchen. We can chat there, since it’s warmer than the other rooms in the house.”
“I’m fine, but we can sit in the kitchen,” he says, letting her walk past him. He follows her down the hall, his gaze catching on the various photos that cover the walls. Trini and Rajiv with the kids, the kids’ school picture, some older photos that are yellowing with age of parents or other relatives.
“That’s my parents,” Trini says, coming up beside him. “My father was in the military, and my mother wasn’t allowed to work. My father forbade it. He was very old-fashioned and didn’t view women as people so much as possessions.”
“You look like your mother,” Stiles says, glancing at her. “Your father sounds like a real piece of work. What did he think about you having a career? You were a doctor, weren’t you?”
“He died when I was in uni, so he never knew. It was bad enough when I continued my studies instead of having children.” She looks at him. “Yes, I was a doctor. I practiced for several years before we decided to move to the United States, where my experience and education meant nothing. Why are you bringing this up, Stiles? We’ve talked about my work history several times.”
“I was just wondering what specialty you went into,” he says. “It never came up before. Was it emergency medicine? No, that isn’t right because you’ve spoken about how chaotic the emergency room is and what an adjustment it was for you.”
“Why don’t we go have that coffee now?” Trini asks, walking to the kitchen. “I’m sure that my work history isn’t why you’re here. Are you and Jay having trouble? I didn’t get a chance to interrogate him as much as I’d have liked during our holiday party, but Alicia’s told me that he seems to be a real keeper.”
“I think he’s a keeper, too,” Stiles says, following her to the kitchen. He sits down at the table, keeping her in his line of sight. She pours two cups of coffee, adding sugar and cream to hers before she joins him at the table. The mug she slides across to him is hot, a cloud of steam wafting from the top. Looking at her, he smiles wryly. “I think I know what your speciality was back in Kolkata, Trini.”
“Do you?” she asks, picking up her coffee mug. “Why the sudden interest in such a strange thing, Stiles? I haven’t practiced medicine in over a decade, not since I chose to give it up to move here for my family. A better life, isn’t it? That’s the American Dream that is sold to everyone in poor countries who have nothing but those dreams.”
“You sound bitter,” he observes, noticing a slight crack in the facade. “You had far more than dreams, didn’t you? A career that you’d worked very hard to achieve, a marriage with someone who gave you freedoms that your mother didn’t have. But you also had intelligence that was overlooked because of your gender, a desire for more than you could ever achieve in Kolkata.”
“A marriage to someone who was kind and gentle yet couldn’t hold a conversation about new thoughts and ideas,” she says. “That doesn’t seem to surprise you. Rajiv is a good father, a good husband, but he is simple. He lacks ambition and drive, content to work in his same job without wanting anything more out of life.”
“You want more, though. Being a wife and mother isn’t fulfilling enough,” he says, trying to figure out the why. He still can’t, and he isn’t sure if she’ll ever tell him. Looking at the hot coffee, he decides that it’s time to confront this. “You worked in Infectious Disease, didn’t you, Trini?”
She puts her cup on the table, her hands still holding it tightly. “Yes, I did,” she says, her gaze unwavering as her mood shifts. “It’s still a passion of mine. But you guessed that, didn’t you?”
Meeting her gaze, he says, “Dr. Wash never gave me anything. He never told me anything about anyone. You were wrong about that, and it’s led us here. It was a mistake to involve Lydia, Trini.”
“I knew that you’d do anything for her,” Trini says simply, her eyes hardening as she sits back in her chair. “I assume you somehow located her since you’re here. Are there police waiting outside?”
“Yes, Lydia is safe, but I suspected you might be involved before she was taken,” he admits. “I didn’t really rule anyone out until Lucas was shot, but that made me start looking at things, at some people, more closely. Dr. Stone, or should I use his real name? Kaminsky is the one who had your name more present in my mind. I knew whoever his boss was had to be someone close with me, someone who let things get personal.”
“Kaminsky always was a weak link,” Trini says casually, her expression hard. “He was a victim of the propaganda, got off on the idea of being part of Hydra without having any convictions or beliefs of his own, and he’s the reason that dull little Lucas had to die. Are you stalling to wait for the police or did you really come here alone?”
“What happened with Lucas?” he asks. “I mean, you could refuse to talk, but you’ve wanted to brag about this for a while, haven’t you? Intelligent conversation is something you’re always craving.”
Trini laughs, the sound slightly hysterical. “You’re a daring one, aren’t you? I could fight you and try to escape, you know? If I was killed fleeing, my soul would still be reborn,” she says, meeting his gaze. “But I’ve always had a soft spot for you, Stiles. At one time, I even thought I could persuade you to join me. You were intelligent and bright, but, unfortunately, you also care too much about those who don’t matter.”
“Who are you to decide who does and who doesn’t matter?” Stiles asks. “I’ve always had a soft spot for you, too, Trini. But you’re right. I could never be part of something like Hydra.”
“Hydra is a means to an end,” Trini says, waving her hand idly. “World domination has a nice ring to it, of course, but I joined them when I was at university because I knew that I could achieve more with their support than I could on my own. I convinced Rajiv that it was his idea to move to New York City, and I’ve been working with them towards my goal since we arrived.”
“Nergal. The plague that wipes out a majority of the population,” he says, trying not to focus on wrapping his mind around all of this. This isn’t the time. That can happen later, when he’s at home with Bucky and feels safe. “That’s your goal?”
“The world is overpopulated, Stiles. Our resources are going to run out, and everyone will die. Why not let a virus cull the population for us? Those who survive can rebuild,” Trini explains. “And the one with the vaccine will have more power and control than you can even imagine.”
“A vaccine that you’d possess,” Stiles says. “It’s still about power and money, Trini. You can wrap it up in whatever packaging you choose, but it’s still murder for profit. Why did you need Wash? If you’ve been planning this for decades, why did he get involved?”
Trini snorts. “Hydra didn’t trust me; they felt I was gaining too much power for my goals and losing sight of their campaign. They sent someone here who recruited Wash because of his reputation and his experience, but he didn’t realize what we were doing with his research. When he did, he became disposable.”
Stiles looks at her and realizes she’s completely serious. This isn’t crazy ranting or even insanity. She’s as sane as anyone else, which is terrifying. He can handle fanatical hunters or money hungry goons, but this is something else entirely.
“Is Rajiv part of this?” he asks, keeping his tone conversational because he can’t predict how she’ll react to anything. “And why did you give them orders not to kill me? I would have never become part of your plot, and you know that.”
“Rajiv knows nothing about it,” she says, taking another sip of her coffee. “I already told you that I have a soft spot for you, Stiles. Curse my sentimentality, but I didn’t want you involved at all. Wash just wouldn’t stay away from you, so my people believed that you had to have the files that he stole from us, which required me to take action or lose their support.”
“You know that it’s over now, don’t you, Trini?” he asks quietly. “You’re the boss of this local cell, and we’ve found your base of operations. I expect they’ll find samples of the virus that you’re creating as well as test subjects in that warehouse.”
“Virus,” she repeats slowly, laughing suddenly. “I worked on it in theory for years. When I finally had the chance to work on it, I never could make it contagious. It works as intended if it’s injected directly into the bloodstream, but we can’t create a plague that requires direct contact . That’s why they brought in Wash, to see what I was missing, but he failed, too.” She looks at him intently. “Rajiv and the children don’t deserve the shame that will be brought upon them if I am arrested and tried. I’d rather you let me die, Stiles. One last favor for your work wife?”
“There won’t be a trial, Trini,” he says, holding her gaze. “Not where you’ll be going. They’ll question you, but they won’t torture you or act inhumane. The last favor that I can offer is to talk to Rajiv for you, after the holidays. I can tell him whatever you want me to say, whether it be the truth or made up lies.”
Trini looks at the table and sighs. “You can tell him that I’ve met someone else, that I have left to start a life where I am not a wife or a mother. He will move on and find someone as simple and kind as he is,” she decides. Looking back at him, she arches a brow. “They were smart to send you, Stiles. Someone else? I would have killed them and run. But that soft spot I have for you makes it impossible.”
“No one sent me, Trini. I figured out that you were the boss, and I wanted to find out why, to give you a chance to tell your story before you go away,” he admits. “If you had resisted, I would have killed you, though. You involved Lydia, which crossed a line.”
“Death is not an end, Stiles. It is liberation. In my belief, our souls are reborn for many lifetimes until we find our true nature. I should worry about karma from the choices that I have made in this life, but I do not worry because my faith will guide me,” she says, her smile sincere. It’s familiar from many nights of working together and long conversations. “I will finish my coffee, and then we can leave.”
“Yeah, you should go ahead and finish your coffee, Trini,” he says softly, making a choice that he knows he’ll have to live with. “Before we go, can you tell me why Lucas was attacked, Trini?”
“He overheard Kaminsky telling me that you needed to die, that it would be easier to kill you,” she says, her hand shaking as she puts her cup down. “I never did like him, so it was an easy choice to make. If he’d told you, you would have become suspicious.”
There’s a warm tingle in his chest, and he realizes that it’s Peter. He must be here, which means Lydia told them it was Trini. Time is running out. “My team has arrived,” he tells her. She meets his gaze, and he knows it’s close. “You should finish your coffee, Trini. We’ll leave when you’re done.”
Picking up her cup, she smiles at him. “I’ll be done soon,” she says. “You really are an excellent doctor, Stiles. If things had been different…” She trails off and looks at the refrigerator. “I’m just one head of many. Nergal’s plans might end, but Hydra won’t stop.” She looks at him intently. “Promise me that you’ll make sure Rajiv and my children don’t become casualties in their war.”
“I promise that I’ll do whatever I can to keep them safe,” he says. “It’s the least that your work husband can do for your family.”
She starts to speak but starts coughing, dropping the cup on the table. The sound of it breaking echoing in the small kitchen. He stands up, unable to watch as she succumbs to whatever poison she added to her coffee. Walking through the hall, he doesn’t look at the photos this time, doesn’t think about why or who or how. He doesn’t stop until he opens the front door, seeing Bucky standing up from where he’s been sitting on the stairs with Peter. Braeden and Lydia are standing by the porch rails, staring at him. Nat and Sam are leaning against the fence with Tony, who is no longer wearing his Iron Man suit.
“Trini’s in the kitchen,” he says, feeling numb as his tight control over his emotions starts to fray. It’s just too much, and he’s reached his limit. “She drank something, some kind of poison.” He steps forward and hugs Bucky, pressing his face against his neck. “Can you take me home now, Buck? I’m really tired.”