(Attendance please… And A review is in order for now i think. So if you can give a review to his fic.)
….
After Wanda's venomous declaration of wanting Stark's destruction, Gojo tilted his head, a thoughtful, almost whimsical expression on his face.
"Man, that is some pretty deep hate," he commented. "Though, it's a bit like… I just brought a fish home to cook. Who's going to know, or even care, where I caught that fish… or if I just bought it from the market?"
Everyone stared at him, bewildered. The analogy, if it was one, seemed to hang in the air, completely out of place.
Gojo sighed dramatically. "Really? No one understood the meaning?" he asked, looking around at their blank faces. "Hint: I said it in a riddle. You guys are like some bunch of… unintelligent beings who just can't appreciate my sophisticated humor." He then turned his attention back to Wanda.
"What I mean is… care to tell us where you bought the fish from? Ah, sorry, I mean, what's the actual, detailed reason for your intense hatred of Tony? The specific ingredients of this hate-stew you're cooking?"
And so, Wanda, perhaps seeing no other option, or perhaps fueled by a desire to justify her actions, began to recount her story.
She spoke of her childhood in Sokovia, of the bombs that fell, of the terror, of the loss of her parents, and of the unexploded Stark Industries shell that had trapped her and Pietro for days, a constant, terrifying reminder of their vulnerability and the source of their pain.
As she finished, a heavy silence filled the Quinjet. Most of the Avengers, while sympathetic to the trauma she and her brother had endured, couldn't help but arrive at a similar, unspoken conclusion… her reasoning was, to put it mildly, flawed.
Natasha, who had been listening intently, her expression unreadable, was the first to voice it. "So, after hearing everything… what I understand is, you hate Tony Stark because his last name was printed on a bomb shell that, by your own account, didn't explode and kill you?"
Gojo let out a genuine laugh this time, a short, sharp bark of amusement. "Okay, that is a flawed story," he said, shaking his head.
"Please tell me you cut out most of the important parts in there. You want to destroy him, and everything he stands for, because his last name was on a bomb? That's kinda… damn." He snapped his fingers, trying to find the word.
"I have a word on my tongue, but it's just not coming to me right now. And then you let HYDRA experiment on you? So, maybe they also made you somewhat… dumb enough to actually want to kill the car manufacturer instead of going after the person who was actually driving the car and caused the accident? Is that the logic we're working with here?"
Wanda bolted upright as much as her restraints would allow, her eyes blazing with crimson energy, though, surprisingly, she didn't unleash her powers. She was in control, but just barely.
"You don't know what happened to us!" she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "What we experienced! How we survived! So don't you dare laugh at it!"
Gojo, unfazed, stood up, walked over to her, and squatted down so he was at her eye level. Before she could react further, he gently tapped two fingers to her forehead.
Her eyes fluttered, the red glow faded, and her head slumped back against the metal floor as she lost consciousness once more.
He stood up, dusting off his hands. "She was getting angry," Gojo stated simply, giving his reason for his actions.
"And as exciting as another round with the Hulk might be… I really don't want to see him make an appearance in here. Confined spaces, you know?"
Tony, who had been listening to Wanda's story with a complicated mix of guilt and frustration, finally spoke. "HYDRA," he said, his voice heavy.
"They brainwashed them. From the moment they got their hands on those two, probably when they were just kids, after the bombing. They twisted their grief, their fear." He looked at the unconscious twins.
"So, I think whatever we say or do right now, it won't give them what they think they want to hear. HYDRA just wanted to use them, to turn them into weapons for their cause. And they used me as the fuel for their hatred and loss."
Steve added firmly, "That doesn't mean we can't try or that we won't. If anything, it gives us even more reason to convince them. To stop them before they go any further… before they do something they can't come back from."
Tony hesitated, his gaze dropping for a moment. "Maybe…" he murmured, uncertainty edging his voice. "Or maybe they have already crossed past that point."
….
A few hours later, the Quinjet descended into a dense, secluded forest, far from prying eyes and government surveillance.
Clint had assured them it was a safe place, a sanctuary where they could regroup. The ramp lowered, and the weary Avengers began to disembark.
Gojo, with a casual application of Blue, levitated the still-unconscious forms of Wanda and Pietro, carrying them effortlessly as he stepped out. Banner followed, looking a little more rested but still subdued, and the others trailed after.
They walked for several minutes through the woods, the silence broken only by the crunch of leaves underfoot and the chirping of unseen birds.
Gojo, in an attempt to lighten the mood or perhaps just to entertain himself, tried to invent a few new games.
One involved guessing what he was thinking (which no one could do), and another was a storytelling game where the main rule seemed to be that every story had to conclude with how incredibly cool and powerful Gojo Satoru was.
Tony, observing Gojo's antics, couldn't help but wonder if the kid was genuinely trying to lift their spirits, provide a distraction from their grim reality, or if he was just… being Gojo.
Finally, they emerged into a clearing. Before them stood a charming, if somewhat rustic, farmhouse.
An old, rusty truck with a load of logs sat nearby, and a large barn stood off to one side. It was peaceful, idyllic, a stark contrast to the chaos they had just escaped.
As they approached the house, Clint moved to the front door. He opened it, then gently guided Natasha, who was still looking shaken, inside, helping her to a nearby table.
Once she was settled, Clint looked around, not with the searching gaze of an agent assessing a new location, but with the familiar look of someone searching for a loved one.
"Honey?" Clint called out, his voice softer than they were used to hearing. "Honey… Honey, I'm home!"
A moment later, a woman emerged from another room. She had a warm, welcoming smile, and her stomach bulged noticeably she was clearly pregnant.
In her hands, she held a handful of crayons and some drawing paper. Her eyes lit up when she saw Clint. He hurried towards her, and they shared a tender kiss.
"Brought some company," Clint said, a little sheepishly. "Sorry I didn't call ahead…"
Tony, ever observant, leaned towards Steve and muttered, "This is an agent of some kind, right? Deep cover? Very convincing."
Gojo, overhearing Tony, sidled up to him and whispered, his voice conspiratorial, "Should I… whoosh her? You know, just in case?"
Tony looked at Gojo, his eyes wide with alarm. "No! No, Satoru, what are you even saying?"
Gojo blinked innocently behind his round glasses. "What? Tony said she was an agent. So, I thought maybe it would be a good idea if I whooshed her before she could contact anyone, you know, report our location."
"No!" Tony hissed back. "Why would Barton bring us here if she was a threat? And I meant it as a joke, Satoru. A bad joke, apparently."
Gojo's expression remained unchanged. "…To whoosh her?" he asked. Then, a slow grin spread across his face. "And I was too… actually joking. Mostly."
Clint, overhearing the tail end of their hushed, somewhat alarming conversation, stepped forward, drawing their attention. "No, Satoru, no one is whoosing anyone here… god damn it… sometimes I wonder how did I get into this," he said firmly, though it was directed at gojo.
"She isn't an agent. Well," he rubbed the back of his neck, "it's a little late… no, actually, we're way past late for proper introductions. But, everyone, meet my wife… this is Laura."
Just as Laura was about to greet them, the sound of small, running feet and happy laughter echoed from upstairs. "Oh, oh, incoming!" Clint said, a fond smile on his face.
Two small children, a boy and a girl, came racing down the stairs, their faces bright with excitement.
Gojo, unable to resist, leaned towards Tony again and whispered, with a perfectly straight face,
"These must be the smaller agents then… the really deep cover ones." He winked, making it clear this time it was, indeed, a joke.
….
A/N: So, How was it? I decided the house… and dont be so quick on things like they have the twins qith them so its dangerous. They gonna be unconscious the whole time and it is just for a little while. And pietro can't run bcz of his legs.
Q: The talk between tony and fury is coming… should gojo involved as it will be interesting.
-Yes
-No
And as always thanks for demicatoru/loadedDemigod for suggestions.
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