The sun hung at its zenith, lazily polishing the dented hood of an old car. Nearby stood a house—white picket fence, blue shutters, a porch swing. The American dream, straight out of a glossy magazine. But like everything else in this world, the dream had cracked: peeling paint on the railings, a crooked swing in the backyard, overgrown grass.
"Home sweet home," Mary whispered. "So many memories tied to this place."
"You were gone two days," John grimaced. "Cut the nostalgia. My sin detector's picking up one soul on the second floor."
"That's Aunt Anna," girl sighed. "She always naps before lunch. Age catching up with her."
"Let's move it already!" Cain stomped impatiently. "Wake old lady, feed kitty, or do whatever you gotta do, then we're outta here!"
"Gotta agree with my big buddy here," John smirked. "I've got a meeting later today. Let's make this quick."
Jane, Cain, and John strode confidently toward the Watson family home.
Mary remained by the lawn.
"I'm not sure this is a good idea," teenager said. "Maybe we shouldn't…"
"What do you mean?" Ghost Rider turned, casting her an annoyed look. "You said you wanted to say goodbye to your aunt in person. Changed your mind? Going back to my letter idea?"
"No, no," she waved him off. "Leaving a note and running away still sucks."
"So you don't want to say goodbye at all?" John asked hopefully.
[Come on! Prove to me that despite your age, you won't drown me in teenage drama and can actually be the most reasonable member of this team.]
"No!" Mary cried, her red hair falling messily over her face. "That's even worse! Only cowards do that!"
[Right. Sixteen and emotionally stable? I'm asking way too much from the universe.]
"I don't like the idea of saying goodbye!" she shouted. "I don't want to leave New York! I want to stay here with my friends!"
Ghost Rider quickly scanned the neighboring houses. Weekday, late morning—any normal person was at work or school. No unwanted witnesses to a teenage meltdown in the middle of the street.
"Jane, please," John sighed in surrender.
Dealing with an emotional teenager wasn't his idea of a productive morning. And delegating to someone better at that stuff? Also part of being a leader.
"Mary, please calm down," Thunderheart stepped forward. "We've talked about this. You need to return the M'Kraan Crystal to gain control over your powers. Without it, you're in danger."
"I was already in danger the moment I got involved with you!" Mary pointed at her. "I don't want to live with a bunch of strangers doing who-knows-what! These are supposed to be the best years of my life! I want to go to school events, grab coffee after class, come home at sunrise after a party!"
"You need to be more responsible," Jane gave her a stern look. "You've been given superpowers. You have to use them wisely."
"I don't owe anyone anything! And you're not my mom to tell me what to do!"
"Quit whining, soldier!" Cain barked in a mock-general voice. "Let me lay it out for you. Shit knocks on everyone's door eventually. Today, it knocked on yours. Tough break, kid. You don't get to shut your eyes and pretend it didn't happen. The shit already here. The shit stinks. And it's gonna stink worse every damn day."
Cain's tone hit like a spell. Mary's shoulders tensed; she looked like she forgot how to breathe.
Even Jane and John stood still, listening—like it was the first time they'd ever heard Juggernaut speak without a smirk or a joke.
"Y'know what my sergeant said when our unit took fire for the first time?" Cain's face took on an unfamiliar seriousness. "He said: 'Shit's already here, Private Marko. You can tremble, cry for mommy, whine about how unfair it is, and die in the shit. Or you can grab your balls, wreck every scumbag in your path, and crawl out of the shit. Your call.'"
A heavy silence followed. Cain's words had weight, but against a fired-up teenager, that alone wasn't enough.
"But…" Mary clenched her fists. "I'm not saying I won't fight! Flying around the city, saving nature—I like doing that! But why do I have to give up school? Why can't I live a double life like Hannah Montana?"
"Who the hell is that?" Juggernaut frowned.
"You don't even know the most famous singer of the past decade!" Mary rolled her eyes. "That's exactly why I need to be around people my own age. Hannah Montana was a girl who went to school by day and performed on stage at night. That's what I want!"
"Mary, that's not realistic," Jane said gently. "All of us had to leave our old lives behind when we got powers."
"Well I know superheroes who balance both!" teenager stomped her foot. "Spider-Man, Daredevil, White Tiger. Pretty much everyone with a secret identity!"
Jane was gathering her thoughts for a response. Cain's fists were tightening—he clearly had no patience left. Mary glared defiantly, not backing down. Loud yelling was about to start in three, two...
[Not on my watch.]
"Mary, those swings still work?" John asked calmly. "Come on. Let's take a ride."
Without waiting for an answer, the avatar of flame sat down and slowly began to sway. Soon, the second avatar of flame joined him.
Jane and Cain wisely decided to take a walk—not getting in the way.
[In the few days since she faced the truth, Mary had clawed her way out of mild depression and returned to her natural state—confident, defiant, not afraid to challenge authority. Never thought I'd say this, but I kind of liked her better when she was quiet.]
"What do you want, Mary?" John asked, not looking at her. "Not just right now. I mean in life. What's your dream?"
"Well…" she rocked back and forth slowly. "Two days ago, that was easier to answer."
She went quiet. John figured she'd leave it there—but then he noticed her lips twitch.
"I always wanted to be famous," she said with a faint smile. "A famous actress, maybe a singer. You'll laugh, but lately I dreamed of becoming a superhero. Joining the Avengers. Standing next to Iron Man and Captain America."
"I'm not laughing. Nothing funny about that," John said, brows furrowed. "You're into the lives of superheroes, right?"
"Yeah. Used to read about TV stars—now it's superstars. Why?"
"You know the Avengers are a government-run program. The mayor's identity is public. So is every Avenger's. You can't balance school and service in that setup. You have to pick one."
"Tony Stark balances it!" she argued passionately. Her energy was both irritating and weirdly endearing. "He's a businessman and a superhero!"
"Tony doesn't balance anything. He merged both lives a long time ago," John said, gently pushing off the ground with his feet. "Every flight in those shiny suits is an ad for his latest weapon. Iron Man is the brand."
"So what?!" Mary shot back, undeterred. "There are anonymous heroes who aren't in the Avengers! I can be one of them!"
"First of all, the Avengers aggressively recruit every superhero out there. You're not gonna deny the news about Spider-Man getting a contract offer, are you?" John didn't get an answer—he took that as a yes. "And the heroes who haven't been invited? They're considered useless losers. Like White Tiger. No one gives a damn about a basic karate fighter with no powers."
"And second?" Mary slowed her swinging, listening closely.
"Second… living a double life—super and normal—is straight-up masochism," John grimaced. "I've been there. Worked as a stuntman by day, hunted demons by night. Then one day, I quit the job. Want to guess why?"
"Was it too hard to balance both?" she raised a ginger brow.
"Heh, no. It was actually super easy. Zarathos took away my need to sleep, so I was always full of energy. And demons tend to crawl out after dark, when regular people are asleep. Balancing both was a breeze," John smiled briefly, remembering the film sets. The smile faded fast. "The worst part was the boredom."
"Boredom?"
"Boredom and pointlessness," Rider nodded grimly. "Sure, at first the double life was exciting. But after a while, I started to feel how empty it was. I stopped caring about my coworkers' gossip. Their lame talk about mortgages, supermarket deals, on-set drama—it all lost meaning. I knew real life was happening behind the magical veil, in spellwork and demonic takedowns. I caught myself counting down the hours till the boring day ended and the thrilling night began. One day, I woke up, called the studio, and said I wasn't coming back. Never regretted it."
"And you think that's what's gonna happen to me?" Mary looked up at the sky.
"Of course," John's hair was tousled by the wind. "You'll start noticing how useless most classes are. Stuff you'll never need. And when your friends start whining about failed tests, it'll piss you off—because you'll know there are way worse things out there than not getting into college."
"So what are you suggesting?" Mary stopped swinging. "Just drop my civilian life and go full Lady Phoenix?"
"Yeah," John made a few more swings, then let himself slow to a stop. "Wanting to go back to school is like Marilyn Monroe wanting to go back to milking cows."
Mary looked at him with interest. That metaphor hit the mark.
"It's just dumb," Rider continued. "You should see getting powers like winning the lottery. With a million bucks in your account, you've already made it to the big leagues. Use that to shoot even higher. And your school friends…" he paused briefly, "leave them as good memories. Never go back. Accept the fact you've outgrown them. I mean, you don't dream of going back to kindergarten, do you?"
"Actually, I do," she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Learning the alphabet again, napping after lunch, sandbox games..."
"What?!" John turned to her so fast he nearly fell off the swing.
"I'm kidding!" she laughed. "You should've seen your face!"
"Humourist," Rider muttered. "So? Did I convince you?"
"A while ago," Mary admitted. "Honestly, that last speech was unnecessary. I was already in when you mentioned useless classes. Sitting through math when I can just fly out the window anytime? That sucks." She ran her fingers through her hair. "I'll trust you when you say we've got adventures ahead that'll beat any school party."
She gave the swing one last glance, like a memory she'd chosen to leave behind. Then she turned and started walking toward the house.
"Oh, and…" she paused and looked back at him. "Thanks for sharing your story. That was cool. Seriously. Way better than lectures and army war stories."
[Phew. One more crisis dodged. Keeping this team together is harder than holding molten coal on your tongue.]
///
John rang the doorbell.
"Just… be careful," Mary whispered. "Aunt Anna's health isn't great."
"Everything's gonna be fuckin' awesome," Cain smirked. "No lady can resist this charm."
"Shut up!" Mary hissed. "Not a word from you, got it?"
"Don't worry, Mary," Jane said with quiet authority. "I'll keep him in check."
Juggernaut gave an exaggerated pout but went silent.
Footsteps approached from inside. Mary was clearly getting more anxious with each second.
"Relax," Rider said. "I've already got a speech ready to convince your dear aunt to let her precious niece go off on a trip with three total strangers."
An elderly woman opened the door, wearing a loose knitted shawl.
"Mary!" sprightly old lady hugged girl tightly. "I was so worried about you!"
"You didn't need to be," Mary gently patted her back. "I called to say I was okay."
"Yes," Anna reluctantly pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "But where have you been these past two days?"
Mary glanced at John hopefully.
"Miss Watson," Rider stepped forward, "I'm here to answer all your questions."
It was only now that Anna seemed to actually register the three weirdos standing next to her niece.
"And you are…?" older woman looked warily at his white mask. "Why are you hiding your face?"
"Special Agent Jonathan Blaze," John said evenly. "Miss Watson, may I suggest we continue this conversation inside?"
Anna looked at her niece, who simply nodded.
John's team entered the house.
As they made their way to the living room, Cain gave John a thumbs-up. Jane shook her head disapprovingly. Mary whispered nervously:
"I really hope you've got this under control."
John didn't reply. Compared to negotiating with Avengers or manipulating Sorcerer Supreme, chatting with a sweet old lady didn't even register.
Ghost Rider settled comfortably onto the offered couch, flanked by Lady Phoenix and Thunderheart. Juggernaut, too large for any chair, opted to stand.
"I'm listening," Anna said, sitting in the armchair opposite. "Who are you, and what's going on?"
"I'll get right to the point," John said. "I'm the commander of the Secret Avengers."
Mary and Jane stared at him like he'd lost his mind. Cain, standing behind Anna, gave him a double thumbs-up.
"Avengers?" the old lady blinked. "Earth's Mightiest Heroes?"
"The very same," he lied without flinching.
"But I don't remember seeing you on any of their teams…"
"That's because we're Secret Avengers," John corrected her solemnly. "No media coverage. We handle covert missions and can't be seen on TV."
"That sounds a bit…" Anna trailed off, unable to find the right word. "Mr. Blaze, do you have any documents to prove your story?"
"Of course. Just watch very closely."
John pulled the Cross of Zarathos from his sleeve. One swing—Anna's eyes glazed over. Another—her mouth dropped open. A third—and she began to drool.
"What the hell did you do?!" Mary rushed to her aunt. "She looks like she just had a lobotomy!"
"Relax," Rider tucked the Cross away. "It's totally harmless. Just hypnosis."
[Big word. It's really just a critical thinking suppressor. Works only on old folks with weak wills.]
"Dude, where'd you learn that?" Cain waved a hand in front of Anna's face—no reaction.
"Old business," John shrugged. "A demon taught me. Said it was payback for a favor."
"I don't like this," Jane said, arms crossed. "This is a violation of free will."
"It makes our lives easier," Rider corrected her.
"That still doesn't make it right," Jane muttered, her eyes lingering on Anna. "Next time, I'm stepping in."
"As you wish. But for now, everyone shut up. I can't hold her like this for long."
John grabbed a napkin from the table and handed it to Anna.
"Here are my credentials. You see exactly what confirms everything I just said."
"Oh," Anna examined the napkin with reverence, as if she were holding the Declaration of Independence. "There's a signature from the President of the United States..."
"Yeah, yeah, listen up," John took the napkin back. "Your niece turned out to be a mutant."
[With all the media noise about mutants lately, it's easier to sell this than magic.]
"But… she's still in school!" Anna protested weakly.
"Exactly why she needs protection," Rider cut in. "Young mutants are the most vulnerable group. We won't let anyone use her. From now on, Mary must serve her country. It's a huge deal — patriotism and all that. Just figure out for yourself why you're proud of it."
"I was afraid I couldn't give her a proper future," Anna wiped away tears forming in her eyes. "But now Mary works for the President himself. I'm so proud of her."
"You can't tell anyone about this. To everyone who knows her, you'll say she's… gone to a modeling school in Paris. The punishment for breaking this rule is severe."
"I'll tell everyone about the school in Paris. Otherwise I'll be prosecuted for treason."
"You won't search for her, write to any departments or special services. You'll just wait for her to contact you herself."
"That's very sad..."
"It's important for her safety."
"I won't try to reach out to Mary, for her safety."
"Secret Avengers are very well paid," John said, placing a thick envelope full of cash on the table. "You'll get one of these every month."
"Oh, my country is so generous."
"On the count of three, you'll return to your normal state. One... two... three..."
The Cross of Zarathos stopped swinging. Anna closed her mouth; awareness returned to her eyes.
"Aunt Anna?" Mary asked carefully. "You okay?"
"Oh, Mary," old woman blinked back tears. "So much responsibility, and at such a young age..."
Aunt and niece hugged.
"You two take a moment alone," Rider said, rising from the couch. "I'll wait outside with my colleagues."
"Thank you for letting me say goodbye to my niece, Mr. Blaze."
John smiled behind his mask and stepped outside. Jane and Cain followed him.
"Man, that was awesome!" Juggernaut clapped him on the shoulder. "We should totally do that more often!"
"Sorcerer Supreme'll show up if you abuse hypnosis," Rider warned. "Protecting civilians from magical influence and all that."
"I'd punish that too," Thunderheart gave him a sharp look. "You can't treat the weak like that."
"Whatever," John waved her off. "No one got hurt. The aunt believes a pretty little story. Mary doesn't have to listen to a bunch of yelling. And the money? Nice bonus. Everyone wins. Sure, I could've forged documents, spent more time — and still ended up with the same result. I just saved us the effort."
"You shouldn't abuse hypnosis," Jane said firmly. "Remember, I'm always around."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, ladycop," he grumbled. "One last thing to do, and we can finally get the hell out of New York."
/////
2950 words.
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