Ed POV
I was slouched on the couch in one of my throwaway bases, looking at the people I'd dragged here, unconscious, scattered across the floor.
"They look more like criminals than teammates," Stain muttered, standing at my side.
"Some of them are," I admitted. "But they can change, if we give them the chance, if we help them with their problems."
Stain's grip tightened on his blade. "Then give me permission to eliminate them the moment they turn villainous."
"Captain America's already called dibs on one of them," I said dryly. "If they waste their chance, they can only blame themselves for getting skewered."
Before Stain could reply, a ground bridge opened in the middle of the room, Steve Rogers stepped out in full uniform.
"Sup, Steve. What's with the suit?"
"I wanted to see the team," he said, glancing at the unconscious recruits. "And I wanted to talk to you."
"Alright. What's on your mind?"
"When we save Bucky… we can undo the brainwashing, right?"
"Yeah. Plo Koon can cure him, same way he did for Yuriko."
Steve nodded, relieved for a moment. "Good. But… what happens after that?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean will he, will Bucky, remember everything he's done as the Winter Soldier?" Steve's voice cracked just slightly.
I sighed. "Yes. He'll remember it all. Every order. Every kill. Every mission Hydra forced on him."
"Goddammit." Steve sat heavily on the couch beside me, rubbing his face. "I was hoping he wouldn't. I can't imagine what it's gonna do to him, remembering every life he's taken."
I leaned back, arms crossed. "Me either. But I do know this, he'll be heartbroken, guilty, drowning in guilt and sadness. That's a guarantee. But he won't face it alone. You and Peggy can help him through it."
"You think so?"
"I know so. Steve, one of your greatest talents is dragging people out of the darkness. You've done it more times than you realize. He won't ever be the same as before, but with you by his side, he'll still be saved."
"It won't be easy," Steve admitted.
"Of course not," I said. "It'll probably be the hardest thing you'll ever have to do. But I know you, and I know Peggy. You won't give up on your friend."
Steve gave me a small, grateful nod. "Thank you, Ed. I really needed to hear that."
"Anytime, Steve."
Before either of us could say more, groans and mutters started filling the room. The people I'd knocked out were finally waking up. Me, Steve, and Stain watched as Domino stirred first, then Peacemaker, Vigilante, Bloodsport, and Frank followed.
"Good, you're finally awake," I said, standing up. "I was starting to wonder how long you'd stay out. Guess I should tweak the knockout gun a bit, maybe not keep people under that long."
"That's what you're calling it?" Steve asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I shot back. "Was it you who invented a gun that knocks people out with a flash? No? Then when you build something that awesome, you can name it. Until then, I'm calling it what I want."
Steve smirked. "Fair enough."
Frank groaned, holding his head. "What the hell's going on? Why'd you kidnap me?"
"Believe it or not, to help you," I said. "And to offer you jobs. Very high-paying jobs."
Vigilante pointed at Steve. "Uh, what's with the cosplayer over there?"
They all turned to look at him.
"Cosplayer?" Steve repeated, confused.
"It's when people dress up as superheroes, anime characters, whatever," I explained quickly. "Some of them even make their own designs. You wouldn't believe how many folks online almost nailed my costume."
"I'm not a cosplayer," Steve said flatly.
"What, you expect us to believe you're actually Captain America?" Peacemaker scoffed.
"Yes. I pulled him out of the ice in Antarctica myself."
Kind of it was technically gamma, but I did order him to do it.
"No way," Peacemaker said, laughing. "Cap should be pushing two hundred by now. This guy looks thirty tops. Hell, we don't even know if you're the real Arsenal. You could just be some dude with a flashy gun who drugged us."
I shrugged. "That's… a very good point. Here's another point."
I raised my hand, aimed at the wall, and let loose a small energy blast that scorched a hole through the concrete. The air buzzed with heat.
"I am Arsenal," I said. "And that was just a taste. Do you want more proof?"
"Ye—" Vigilante started, but Peacemaker quickly cut him off.
"Nope. We're good. We believe you."
"Glad we cleared that up," I said, lowering my hand. "Now, like I said, technically, yeah, I kidnapped you. But I did it to help. And to offer you a job."
Frank snarled, "I don't need your help. Send me back home."
"That's where you're wrong, Frank. You're probably the one who needs my help the most," I said calmly.
I pulled three steel balls from my pocket, rolled them across the floor, and they stopped in a neat triangle. A hologram flickered to life above them, filled with files, photos, and intel.
"Read that carefully. Then tell me again if you don't need my help."
Frank leaned in, scanning the data. The longer he read, the more his jaw tightened, until rage overtook his face.
"Russo…?" he whispered.
"Yeah," I said. "Your best friend. The man you trusted like a brother. He's planning to kill you and your family. Agent Orange is in on it too. And no, I'm not blaming you for the drug pipeline you were used to cover. You didn't know. But I can help you, Frank. We can bring these bastards to justice and protect your family."
Frank's eyes burned. "Justice? No. I want them in the ground."
I nodded slowly. "That's a natural reaction. You just found out the man you trusted is plotting your family's death. But that decision? I'll leave it to your team leader."
"Wait, you're not leading this team?" Domino asked, raising a brow.
"In a sense, yes," I said. "I'm still the overall leader. But your field leader is Captain America. He'll be running this Black Ops unit, if you choose to join."
Domino smirked. "Well, you had me at money. And something tells me I'm supposed to be here anyway. Count me in."
Frank stood. He looked straight at Steve. "Steve Rogers, sir… I'll join you. But I want Russo and Agent Orange in the dirt. And I want my family safe, somewhere no one can ever touch them."
Steve rose to meet his gaze. "Frank, I understand. If I were in your place, I'd want the same. Hell, I do want the same. But listen, this is also a chance to expose corruption. Prison may not feel like enough, but a public trial… it could mean something bigger. That said, this is your family. You get the final call. Kill them, or cage them, I'll stand by you. And whichever path you choose won't affect our commitment to keeping your family safe."
Frank went quiet. The silence was heavy. Steve added softly:
"Vengeance is poison. It eats men alive. Even the strongest. Take your time. We'll move your family to safety immediately. You've got four days before the op. That's when the choice must be made."
Frank gave a short, stiff nod.
"Good. Looks like Frank might be in. Domino's in. What about the rest of you?" I asked.
Bloodsport scoffed. "I gave up the assassin life to try and be a father. Now you're telling me to crawl back into it? Because what, you're a hero?"
"Not because of that," I said firmly. "Because you can make a difference. For your daughter. For people who can't protect themselves. You've got skills, Robert. You can use them to destroy or to protect. The choice is yours."
He folded his arms. "So what, you want me killing again? I thought heroes had a no-kill rule."
"Most do. I don't. I save killing for the last resort. And the targets you'll be sent against? Monsters. The worst of the worst. Barely human. Taking them off the board will save lives. That's the truth."
Peacemaker smirked. "Now that's my language. Killing bad guys is my thing. And working alongside Captain America? Hell yeah, I'm in."
Vigilante raised his hand. "Yeah, if my best friend's joining, then so am I."
"Cool. Now only one more," I said, turning to Bloodsport.
He glared. "Killing bad guys, killing good guys, it doesn't matter. I'm still a killer. I'm trying to be better for my daughter. I want to wake up in the morning, look in the mirror, and not hate the man staring back at me."
"You want to be her hero. You want her to look at you and see more than a weapon. I can understand that."
"No. You can't understand. You don't have a kid."
"I do," I said quietly. "He wants to follow in my footsteps, be a hero. But his mom and I agreed, he has to wait until he's older."
The whole room froze. Every head snapped toward me.
"Wait a minute, you have a kid? Arsenal has a child?" Vigilante blurted. "I can only imagine how insanely strong that kid is—"
Everyone ignored him.
I leaned forward. "I do understand, Robert. Wanting your kid to have the best of you, not the worst. And this job isn't about killing anyone with a pulse. It's about eliminating monsters, people who make the world harder for your daughter to grow up in. I've done my homework on her. She's smart, mature. She already knows how rough the world is. If you take this job, and you explain it to her? She'll understand."
Bloodsport was silent, chewing on my words. Finally: "How much does it pay?"
"Five hundred an hour. Overtime included."
A pause. Then a slow nod. "...I'm in."
"Good to hear. You don't have a mission yet, some more recruits are still adjusting. For now, all of you can live your lives, stay under the radar. Frank, don't worry. Russo and Agent Orange will be handled, whether you join or not. The choice is yours."
I snapped my fingers, and violet portals shimmered open behind each of them. One by one, they stepped through, back to their homes.
The Next Day
I was in my office, going over paperwork with Ashley, but somehow the talk drifted to Stratos.
"No," Ashley said flatly.
"Come on, it'd be good for him to get a handle on his powers. One year in the Chamber, he'll only be eleven when he comes out."
"There's no way in hell I'm letting my son disappear into some mystical room for a year. That's a whole year I'd miss."
"Our son," I corrected gently. "And technically, it's just a day out here. Plus, you have powers now. You should train too."
She arched a brow. "So you want me to vanish for a whole year while you're trying to run for mayor? You're insane."
"Technically, one day," I countered. "Honestly, you should use your vacation days."
"You're serious?" Ashley rubbed her temple. "Vacation days, for time-warp training? Meanwhile, you're throwing your hat in the political ring, which we should definitely be talking about instead."
"Fine, fine. What's the game plan then?" I asked.
"Well," Ashley said, sliding a folder across my desk, "I hired someone to help. Neither of us has ever run a campaign. Don't worry, I checked her out. Not Shield. Not Hydra. And she's very, very good."
"She's that good? Good enough to impress you, what's her name?" I asked.
Ashley's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Olivia Pope."
That name caught me off guard. Olivia Pope. I remembered her from my past life, "the Fixer," the best of the best. If you had a problem, she could make it disappear. She had a team behind her that was just as sharp, and I also remembered her messy ties, her father running B613, her complicated relationship with the President.
But this wasn't my old world. For all I knew, none of that existed here. Maybe her father wasn't B613. Maybe this was an entirely different Olivia Pope.
Either way, promising. And dangerous.
"I can't wait to meet her," I said.
"You won't have to wait long," Ashley replied. "I scheduled a meeting today. About that time now."
Right on cue, the door opened. One of Ashley's assistants stepped in, holding it open for a striking woman in a perfectly tailored suit. Olivia Pope carried herself like she owned the room, eyes sharp, expression calm, not a hint of hesitation in her step.
"Hello," she said, offering a professional smile. "Nice to meet you, Edwards. My name is Olivia Pope. I'm here to help you win the election for Mayor of New York. But before we begin, let's get one thing clear."
She set her designer bag on the table and leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on mine.
"If you want me to do my job effectively, you need to tell me right now if you have any skeletons in your closet. Anything, affairs, shady business deals, off-the-books donations, bad habits, questionable associates. If me or my team find out you lied to me, I will walk. Do you understand?"
"Understood." I nodded, leaning back. "And for the record, I like you already. But no, I don't think I have any skeletons. I've never done anything illegal. My entire goal has been to make the world better."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Intentions are good. But good intentions often pave the road to hell. If you've cut illegal deals to fund those 'good works,' if there's anything you've swept under the rug, now's the time to tell me. I won't judge. I just need to know."
"No, Ms. Pope," I said firmly. "I can promise you everything is clean. My company. My money. My people. I've kept everything legitimate."
She studied me for a long moment, then sat back. "I hope you're telling the truth. Because if you're not, it won't just be your campaign that burns, it'll be you, and I rather not leave a good man to burn."
Ashley smirked from her chair. "He's nineteen, Olivia. Can we even call him a man?"
"Yes," I shot back. "A nineteen-year-old who owns one of the richest companies in New York."
"Fair point," Ashley admitted.
I turned back to Olivia. "So. What are my odds?"
She finally cracked a small smile, reached into her bag, and pulled out a thick stack of files.
"They're not good," she said, "but they're not bad either."
She laid the folders on the table, flipping them open one by one. Inside were profiles of my opponents, headshots, résumés, polling numbers, and scandals neatly highlighted in red.
"Let's talk about who you're up against."