The jet touched down on a muddy airstrip outside a small Ukrainian village just as dawn bled pink across the horizon. Alex, Gwen, and Wanda stepped out into cold, damp air that smelled of pine and diesel. The relief convoy was already moving—ten trucks loaded with medical supplies, food, and the experimental crates Aether had flagged as high-value targets.
They moved fast—stealth suits (Alex's design: lightweight, adaptive camouflage), comms linked through Aether, no flashy entrances.
Gwen's spider-sense buzzed the moment they reached the treeline.
"Incoming," she whispered, crouching low. "Eighteen signatures. Armed. Moving from the east ridge."
Wanda's eyes glowed faintly red. "I feel them. Fear. Greed. They want the crates."
Alex nodded—copied spider-sense tingling in sync with Gwen's. "We hit them before they hit the convoy. Gwen, flank left—web traps and mobility. Wanda, barriers and crowd control. I'll coordinate and draw fire."
Gwen squeezed his hand once—quick, fierce. "We come back. All of us."
Wanda leaned in, kissed his cheek softly. "Together."
They split—silent shadows in the gray morning.
The first Hydra operatives crested the ridge—black tactical gear, energy rifles humming. They opened fire on the convoy's lead truck.
Gwen moved first—blurring speed, webbing snapping out in precise arcs. She swung between trees, landing on a branch above the lead shooter. Web shot—wrapping his rifle, yanking it away. He spun; she dropped, kicked his legs out, webbed him to the ground before he could shout.
"Three down on the left flank," she breathed into comms. "They're fast, but I'm faster."
Wanda raised both hands—red energy blooming into a shimmering dome over the convoy's center trucks. Bullets sparked against it harmlessly. She pushed—tendrils lashing out, wrapping around two operatives, lifting them off the ground and slamming them together. They crumpled.
Alex darted through the middle—copied Super Soldier strength + partial chaos harmony letting him move like liquid. He disarmed one with a telekinetic tug, webbed another mid-leap, then blurred forward with Gwen's speed to tackle a third before he could fire on a fleeing aid worker.
"Kids in the back truck," he called. "Wanda—shield them!"
Wanda pivoted—red dome splitting, reforming around the rear vehicle. A Hydra operative with a grenade launcher aimed—Alex saw it first.
"Gwen!"
She was already moving—web line shooting out, yanking the launcher skyward. The grenade detonated harmlessly in the air. She swung down, landing a kick to the man's chest—sending him sprawling.
But another operative flanked her—rifle raised.
Alex blurred—copied spider-sense screaming—tackled the man just as the trigger pulled. The shot grazed his shoulder—burning, shallow. He grunted, webbed the shooter's hands together, then rolled to his feet.
"Alex!" Gwen was there in a heartbeat—hands on his wound, eyes wide. "You're hit."
"It's nothing," he gritted out. "Keep moving."
Wanda felt it—the spike of his pain through their resonance link. Red flared brighter—protective fury. She swept her arm—chaos wave knocking three operatives flat.
The fight turned.
Their synergy peaked: Gwen's webs created swinging points and traps; Wanda's barriers redirected fire; Alex's multi-trait coordination kept them in perfect sync. Every move flowed—instinctive, almost telepathic.
The last Hydra agent fell—bound in webbing, unconscious from a chaos pulse.
Silence settled—only rain and distant convoy engines.
Gwen rushed to Alex—hands gentle on his shoulder. "Let me see."
He winced as she peeled fabric back. Shallow graze—already clotting faster than normal thanks to copied healing.
"You idiot," she whispered, voice cracking. "You jumped in front of me."
He cupped her face. "Couldn't let him hurt you."
She kissed him—hard, desperate, tears mixing with rain. "Don't do that again."
"I can't promise," he murmured. "But I'll always come back to you."
Wanda joined them—red energy fading to soft glow. She touched Alex's wound—chaos magic knitting skin faster. Then she pulled both into her arms—trembling.
"I thought I'd lose you," she whispered. "Both of you."
Gwen held her tighter. "You didn't. We're here."
Alex kissed Wanda's temple, then Gwen's. "We're here."
A new voice cut through the rain—low, familiar, edged with respect.
"Not bad."
They turned.
Natasha Romanoff stepped from the treeline—black tactical gear, hair damp, expression unreadable but eyes sharp.
She looked at the bound operatives, the shielded convoy, the three of them standing together—bloodied, breathing hard, unbreakable.
"You three just saved a lot of lives," she said quietly. "And you did it without a single casualty on your side."
Alex met her gaze. "We had help. Your tip."
Natasha's lips curved—just a fraction. "I knew you'd come."
Wanda stepped forward—red flickering protectively. "Why?"
Natasha looked at her—then at Gwen, then back to Alex.
"Because I've been watching," she admitted. "And what you have… it's rare. It's real. I thought maybe… I could learn from it."
Gwen tilted her head. "Learn what?"
Natasha's voice softened—almost vulnerable.
"How to let people in. How to fight for something that isn't just survival."
Alex stepped closer—slow, careful.
"You're welcome here," he said quietly. "Whenever you're ready."
Natasha looked between them—three people who should have been broken, but instead had chosen each other.
"I'm not there yet," she whispered. "But… I want to be."
She turned—starting to walk away.
Then paused.
Looked back.
"Thank you," she said—to all three. "For showing me it's possible."
She vanished into the rain.
The trio stood together—watching her go.
Gwen slipped her hand into Alex's. Wanda took the other.
"She'll come back," Gwen said softly.
Wanda nodded. "When she's ready."
Alex pulled them close—heart full, shoulder still aching, but lighter.
"We'll be here," he murmured.
The rain kept falling.
But under it, three hearts beat stronger.
Waiting for the fourth.
(Word count: 1008)