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“Who are you?”
At the beginning of this journey Kate asked America that question. She still hasn’t received a straight answer, but slowly, she’s starting to string a few things together.
“Katherine.”
Like how she uses Kate’s full name when she’s trying to be gentle with her. America isn’t really good at being gentle, but she knows how to be genuine. It’s one of the things Kate likes the most about her. America doesn’t play games, she’s direct and stays away from the drama.
A firm hand shakes Kate’s shoulder, and America says again, “Katherine, wake up.”
No one calls her Katherine. Too many syllables, she thinks, but they roll off America’s tongue softly and sound less like a formality and more like an endearment. There’s also a small ounce of regret, because things are tough right now. It’s the fourth week of this dimension hopping and sleep is hard to come by. The team has stopped in a tiny shack of a building on the top of a post-apocalyptic world that seems empty enough to be safe for a few hours.
“I’m awake,” Kate mutters, keeping her eyes closed and taking a deep breath through her nose. This morning doesn’t seem as unpleasant as the last one, or the one before that. She can’t remember tossing or turning in the dark. Even the air smells better, like cinnamon citrus and Kate thinks she could sleep for another few hours. Instead, she finds the strength to push herself up from the rickety floor.
America shifts away from the archer and starts lacing up her high tops, “Sleep alright?”
“I must be exhausted, that was the best sleep I’ve had since…” Kate quiets when something slips down her arms.
It’s America’s track jacket, a puddle of blue and white around Kate’s waist. She doesn’t remember ever putting on this jacket, or even being offered it.
“You were cold last night,” she explains simply. Running her hands through her hair, she scowls when she pulls a twig from her dark curls. “Shivering.”
Kate takes touches the jacket, it’s soft, smooth and very warm. She can see her breath in the morning air and didn’t realize it was so cold until just now. She looks over at America, who’s standing from the floor and dusting off her pants. Her tee shirt looks so thin.
“You didn’t have to—”
“Save it,” America rolls her eyes and stretches away the morning kinks, “your teeth were clacking so loud it was keeping me up.”
Kate thinks better of asking if America was cold. She probably wouldn’t admit it if it were true. Instead she stands up and holds out the jacket, “Well, thank you.”
America shrugs and puts it back on, “Whatever. The boys have food in the other room.”
The food isn’t as edible as they had hoped. Kate finds a spot near Noh-Varr to pick at the scavenged cans of military grade provisions. She wonders about radiation and the chances of food poisoning. Her eyes find America from across the room. The star spangled teenager doesn’t seem to have the same concerns. She’s working on her second can of something that is altogether unrecognizable.
Kate tries to remember better times, pancakes and scrambled eggs. She tries to remember feeling warm and happy.
She thinks about citrus and cinnamon.
--
The world is burning.
Of all the devastated and decimated versions of Earth she’s seen in this bizarre mission, this time the Young Avengers have arrived in the final hours. Monstrous aliens that put Godzilla to shame roam though the city unchecked. They slap fighter jets from the air and send tanks into buildings. The arrival into this world was chaotic, the team scattered in the destruction and violence.
Kate Bishop finds herself alone on the top of a skyscraper. The air shakes with an explosion, a plane tumbling out of the air and straight for her. It’s instinct to turn and run, although, being on the roof of a gives you limited options. She spots her way out—telephone wires. Maybe she can grapple to safety, if she clears the impact, if she can clear any impending explosions. It’s her only option.
But then a flash of blue, black, and wild brown eyes is appears a few yards from the edge of the roof and when America Chavez shouts, "Dammit jump!" what she means is, I'll catch you.
Kate jumps, heart pounding in her chest, the air rushing around her from the crashing plane. It’s such a horrible noise, painful, making her ears sting, and for a moment Kate can’t hear anything. All she can do is focus on America and that solid determination on her face.
America makes good on her promise, and Kate feels strong arms snatch her up into a nearly clumsy hold. Hell-bent on getting out of there, America cradles Kate close, trying to keep her shielded from the heat from the explosion. Her body isn’t as large as she’d like it to be and despite her best efforts there's a hot bite at Kate’s shoulder and calf.
When they've escaped the blast she slows, but keeps enough speed to keep from being a target. She asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah," Kate’s looking around for the rest of the team. Teddy and Billy are surrounded by alien foot soldiers and losing ground. "Wiccan needs help."
Chavez is already moving towards them, but doesn’t have any intention to land, "Are you good to shoot?”
“Not bridal style,” Kate kicks her feet a little to express her point and her teammate nods.
Her hands are quick, sure, and Kate feels her stomach flip when America pops her up onto her shoulders. Kate doesn’t take long at all to adjust to the new position, or the hands on her thighs, holding her steady. She’s drawing her bow and taking out three aliens in the first breath.
“What’s your plan, Chavez?”
“Who said I have a plan?”
Kate takes down two more targets, “It’s not like you to hang back and play suppressive fire.”
“You can’t see anything from the ground,” America floats over the street with an even and steady pace.
Kate gets it then, she’s trying to find a way out and pick the best rally point.
“There’s a subway entrance, maybe twenty five yards from Loki. We can gather there and try to find the trail.”
America takes a firmer grip on Kate’s legs and flies a little faster, “Try to make an obvious path for them, and if they’re smart enough to follow the dead bodies maybe we can get the hell out of here.”
Despite her words, America shouts directions down to the boys below. Teddy and Billy have taken enough of the aliens out to start moving back. They’re frantic and running and America figures it out first.
“Fuck.”
The creature is gigantic and the building next to it crumbles under its bulk. Kate is so distracted by the size of its teeth, that horrendously morbid grin, that she doesn’t even notice her feet hitting the ground until America is speaking in her ear. She stands just behind Kate, her hands still on her waist from the hasty dismount.
“I’m gonna take care of that, get everyone in the tunnels.”
Kate spins, grabbing a fist full of America’s jacket to keep her from flying off too soon.
“We need you for the portal,” she shouts as aliens fire lasers at them and the ground shakes under the monsters feet. “We can outrun them—you don’t need to—”
“Look around us, princess,” America keeps her eyes on the monster, “the men in these tanks are dead but I can’t promise you the bombs are, and Godzilla wants to blow us all to hell.”
She takes off, fast and angry. Kate’s forced to take cover against laser fire but she sees the monster and the glowing light in its mouth, she realizes that it’s the same color as the foot soldier’s lasers. She watches America fly straight towards it.
“What is she doing?”
Kate finds Teddy and Billy by her side.
“Buying us time to get to Loki and Prodigy,” Kate ducks another laser shot and Teddy throws a chunk of cement at the alien soldiers.
-
The light in the monster’s mouth gets brighter and brighter and Miss America can feel the heat radiating as she gets closer and the energy ripple through the air. She doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t even slow down, she clasps her fists together, drawing her hands back, and she swings at the monster’s jaw with all her might.
The monster lets loose its energy blast into the sky, well away from her friends and the abandoned fleet of armored tanks that litter the street. It reels back, from the force of America’s blow and from its own laser detonation. America doesn’t let up; she strikes again, and again, until the monster stumbles.
America smirks, because she didn’t expect a beast that size to go down so easily.
She wasn’t expecting the tail.
-
Kate cringes when America is swatted out of the air and through an office building.
The team works its way across the street, using abandoned cars for cover as they move towards the subway entrance. She takes a shot at an alien and a moment to find America bursting through a damaged wall and straight back to the giant.
“Did you find the trail?” Kate is quick to ask Prodigy as they meet behind an upturned bus.
“Yeah, where’s Miss—”
She looks around the corner of the bus just as their star spangled teammate is being thrown from the sky, skidding along the street, and crashing into a nearby tank. Kate will never be able to say that America doesn’t have great timing.
“Hey!”
America flips her dark hair out of her face and pushes away from the small crater she’s made in the tank’s side. Her eyes bounce from Kate’s face to the monster, “We got everyone?”
“Yes, now come on—”
She turns away from Kate and the rest of the team, “One more round, chica.”
“America!”
“Keep your pants on. It’ll only take a sec.”
Despite her annoyance, Kate believes her. America’s eyes and tattoos start to illuminate even as she picks up the tank by its gun shaft. The metal creeks and groans, America’s brow wrinkles in a fiery concentration, and she starts to spin. Turning in a full circle, then another, and when her sneakers can barely keep up with her own momentum she lets the tank fly.
Before the tank even lands, America waves the team over, kicking out the glowing star that’s appeared beneath her, “What are you waiting for, let’s move!”
The Young Avengers don’t need to be told twice. They jump into the portal one by one until Kate is standing alone next to America. She has to admit it was a very well placed throw. The arch was nice and the distance is impressive. And when the tank is lost in the destructive energy blast that was building in the monster’s mouth the explosion turns a lovely shade of purple, which Kate appreciates the most.
America is grinning a little, obviously proud of herself, “Did you see that?”
Kate rolls her eyes, and tugs her friend’s jacket sleeve, “Come on.”
“I just took off that thing’s head,” America grouses, but she lets herself be pulled through the portal and into the next dimension.
--
She finds America on the roof of their latest shelter.
Kate is curious, “Does it take a lot out of you?”
The stars in this universe are so much bigger than they are at home. There are three moons in the sky and Kate can’t figure out which is prettiest. A warm breeze passes through and it’s a small blessing that she won’t be cold tonight.
America adds a handful of stones to a pile she has already been building and asks dryly, “What, saving your asses?”
Kate chuckles softly, moving closer and taking a seat nearby on the edge of the roof.
“I mean the dimension hopping.”
America shrugs, picking up a pipe that had been propped against the wall, “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
She picks up a stone with one hand, holding the pipe with another. Kate watches the toss, the smooth way America’s arm draws back. There’s a tiny metal clang when the pipe hits the stone that echoes around them. Kate can barely trace the path of the rock in the night.
“We’ve been jumping more and more often,” Kate takes a gravel piece from the pile, turning it over in her hand. America does the same and swiftly sends it off into the darkness. “Everyone is anxious to get this Patriot poser but… if we need to slow down, we can.”
America scoffs, “I’m not going to tell the team that we need to slow down because it’s naptime. We’re not in kindergarten and this is no fieldtrip.”
Kate understands America’s hesitation. She knows what it’s like to think you’re holding your team back. It’s something she thinks about all the time. Being a superhero without powers can fosters a cautious bit of doubt. Maybe you won’t be fast enough, strong enough, super enough to make the save. Maybe you’ll let everyone down.
She waits until America hits another rock to continue.
“You’re stronger than any of us, America. When you’re tired, we’re exhausted. I meant it when I said we might need to slow down.”
America taps her palm with the end of the pipe a couple of times, thinking about what was said. Her dark eyes find Kate’s from beneath even darker hair, “Yeah, okay. Fair enough.”
An easy silence falls over them. America bats rocks into the oblivion and Kate watches, swinging her legs over the edge of the roof. It’s almost nice, being in some strange land, trying to enjoy a moment of downtime with someone who’s becoming less and less of a stranger. Below them, Kate can hear the boys talking about something… or arguing, she’s not sure if there’s a difference at times.
“Why are you here?”
Kate blinks, “Am I bugging you?”
“No, like, why are you here?” America waves her pipe around in a large, all-encompassing circle. “How did you end up in the hero business?”
With a dry smile, Kate draws her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs close, “Sometimes I forget you’re kind of new around here.”
America frowns, fiddling with a rock in her hand, “Is this a story I should know already?”
“I’m not sure how many people know it, actually,” Kate realizes. “Enough. I’ll bet my bow everything worth knowing about me is written down and locked up in someone’s secret files.”
“Hey,” America’s high tops shuffle against the rooftop, “if you don’t want to talk about it…”
It’s nice of her to say that, Kate thinks, because her parents and her therapist and sometimes even Clint, they all wanted her to talk about it, sort through it and heal. And she did. She talked and talked and talked on a sofa for months. Sometimes Kate is convinced she’s talked too much about it. Sometimes she’d like to forget it ever happened. Sometimes Kate just wants to be angry about it.
Maybe America, of all people, could understand that.
“Someone hurt me,” Kate admits strongly, these are old words about a stitched and scarred wound. “A man. He hurt me in the way men shouldn’t hurt little girls when they’re walking home alone.”
Closing her eyes, her cheek falls against her knees. She listens to the wind, strange sounds of a foreign universe.
“I was determined after that,” Kate sighs, remembering her own life like a bad movie, “and lucky enough to find someone to train me. I never want to feel like that again.”
Helpless.
She doesn’t say it out loud—she doesn’t have to.
After a long pause, America hits a rock into the distance, then another. It’s comforting, the strength of her swing, the silent acceptance of Kate’s past. Because the world keeps spinning and America knows that.
They talk some more about the journey. Kate finally admits that America’s tank toss was the coolest thing that’s happened since they left home. That earns her a smile that America so rarely gives away. It’s not entirely clear when they decide that sleeping under the moons would be pretty sweet too. They lay side by side, arms tucked under their heads, counting shooting stars.
Kate wakes up first this time, because there are three moons and two suns and it’s entirely too bright for her. She doesn’t sit up right away. She smells cinnamon and citrus and, even if her back is stiff from this unforgiving roof, it’s a nice moment. The smooth material of America’s jacket covers her torso, hugging her softly. She tilts her head to the side and peeks at America who, she suspects, could sleep whenever, where ever, and for as long as physically possible.
The girl is lying on her stomach, head resting on her crossed arms, eyes hidden from the sun by thick curls.
Kate wonders when America gave up her jacket.
She doesn’t have to wonder why anymore. At the beginning of this journey Kate asked America who she was. While she still might not have all the answers, a few things are certain.
America Chavez is not a stranger.
Kate knows she’s much more than that.