Thank you to everyone who had read, reviewed, followed and added to favourites. If I haven't responded to your review yet, I am working through them, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you.

I am truly awed by how many are enjoying this story. Thank you for being patient with me since I last updated.

Real Life took a turn for us all in the last few months, and I like many others have found it difficult to find the time and sit down and let the creative juices do their work. I wanted to write, but a combination of work, being yelled at daily by strangers, working longer hours and at times seven days a week meant I retreated. I found it difficult to construct sentences together and put words onto a paper. On top of that my medical condition flared, which resulted time in hospital (non virus related) despite spending twenty-four hours on a Covid-19 Ward as a doctor put on my notes 'suspected Covid-19' which was certainly an eye opener to exactly what it is they are dealing with in hospitals right now, the news really doesn't do it justice compared to seeing it firsthand.

I hope all of you have been able to stay safe these last few months and are being kind to yourself if you are not having the energy/motivation/desire to do anything but retreat. For other writers who are possibly struggling at the moment to write anything you are not alone, allow yourself some time away if you need to, remember to breathe and ease the pressure you are putting on yourself. For all my readers, your feelings are natural right now you are not alone. Be kind to yourself, allow yourself little indulgences if they aren't going to add any extra pressure, strain or anxiety to you right now and remember to breathe. For those of you who are trying their hand at homeschooling, juggling working from home and entertaining your children you are doing a brilliant job in extraordinary circumstances, even if it doesn't feel like it. Schedules are nonexistent, not everyone is able to maintain a healthy lifestyle right now and that is okay. To those who work in shops, warehouses, food factories, care homes, hospitals, schools, emergency services, pharmacies and all other key services, thank you. I am sorry you are having to deal with the shit you are dealing with right now and the abuse that is being thrown your way by some.

Be kind to yourself and to others.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter, I am more nervous about posting this one than previous ones, probably because it has been such a long between posts.

XXX

Chapter 12:-

It was his daughter's laughter that pulled his attention from washing the breakfast pots. It wasn't the laughter she usually made when something entertained her or the soft laugh when she was occupying herself. It was her unique laugh, one that Rose only ever seemed to make for one person, and one he had tried to coax out of her himself, and had failed terribly to do so.

Despite knowing his wards were intact, and that none of the early warning systems his wife had charmed in place was blaring to life, Ron, let his wand fall to his hand as he made the short distance from the kitchen to the living room. It may have been years since the war, years since he had retired from active duty as an Auror yet Ron couldn't break the habit of ensuring he was armed and alert at all times. He could admit to himself that the alertness had changed to register the dangers that came with having a child, and Rose certainly kept him on his toes, then to that of unexpected intruders. But even so, the years hadn't softened him. His whole body shifted into a stance that would allow him to attack and defend at a moment's notice should there be an actual threat, Ron doubted he would ever genuinely relax, not how he used to before Hogwarts, before the war.

Narrowed eyes swept across the living room before settling on the scene unfolding. Tiny multicoloured dragons flew in sync with each other in a complicated sequence while breathing fire every so often. His daughter watched on with pure enjoyment crossing her little face as her eyes widened and hands reached up every time a dragon flew close to her. Ron let the tension ease from his shoulders safely tucking his wand back into his sleeve. Holly was kneeling next to his daughter a smile he rarely saw these days crossing her lips. It was nice to see her carefree, untroubled in a few precious moments of peace from whatever worldly weight that rested on her shoulders. Ron had hoped the pressure would ease off his friend after Riddle's defeat, but if anything it only seemed to grow, and Holly had become more withdrawn, more secretive, more guarded than she had ever been at Hogwarts.

Ron wasn't entirely sure when the universe had decided that his best friend should be the one to solve its many problems, but it seemed that even after Riddle's defeat she wasn't going to catch a break. Ron was content to stay silent, happy to let his best friend have the precious time with his daughter without forcing her to face the outside world, but Rose caught sight of him, and giggled as she pointed, "Daddy, dragons."

Holly's attention snapped to him, the smile still there, but Ron couldn't help but notice the weariness on her face, the hollow look in her eyes and the lingering shadows that filled them.

"Aren't the dragons pretty?" he acknowledged his daughter softly.

Rose giggled in response, before turning her attention back to the dragons who were circling her as though they were leaves in the wind.

"Hi Ron," Holly greeted, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"You look like hell."

It was blunt; he knew that Hermione would have called him out for had she been there. But he couldn't hold back his concern, and he knew Holly well enough now to know she would wave anything off unless he was blunt. Holly was good at taking care of others, but she was awful at taking care of herself.

She snorted softly, "It was a rough night."

"You're hurt."

"I'll live."

"You need sleep," he argued, his gut twisting as that concern simmered away inside of him. Holly had never been good at self-preservation of taking care of herself but even she usually rested when she was injured. The fact she was here now, dead on her feet was important and Ron knew it was going to be bad.

"I can't sleep yet, too much to do," Holly countered, worrying at her bottom lip. "We need to launch Excalibur."

His stomach turned to lead. Dread stretched through him. There it was, the axe falling. Ron closed his eyes for a moment, stealing himself for what was to come. They had prepared for this. For the eventuality that it would come down to a fight. That the Wizarding World would need to know. Ron had just hoped they would never have to use it. Never have to activate it. But it was the whole reason Holly had let everyone believe she was dead. The fact that she was invoking the protocols now meant something they had all feared had happened. He opened his eyes, Ron didn't want to think about what it meant, not when his two and half year old daughter was sitting on the floor, entertained by flying dragons Holly had conjured and blissfully unaware of the events unfolding around her. He had more to lose, so much more now, but it meant he would fight harder to keep them all safe.

He couldn't panic. Panicking would do nothing.

"I will message Hermione, and you can get some sleep while we wait for her to come home, she had an early meeting but should be back in a couple of hours. I will wake you when she does."

She didn't argue, which told him everything he needed to know about how tired she was.

"How bad is it Holly?" he asked because he needed to know, Ron wanted the time to prepare himself before he heard the whole story.

"It's a declaration," she said, "of war."

His stomach dropped.

They had been afraid of that, fearful that Hydra was declaring war, afraid of so many possibilities, but having them confirmed, having the theories made into a reality, was worse.

They had survived one war barely.

Ron wasn't sure they would survive another one, especially if it involved the muggle world but more important than the Wizarding World as a whole he wasn't sure Holly would survive another war.

XXX

The silence that followed Holly's departure hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass hit the ground and shattered. Sam could feel it crawling across his skin, as the realisation of what she had said what she had opened up about truly hit him. The air was thick and heavy with what she hadn't said; the unspoken words, gaps in the story that could only mean one thing and left no room for doubt in his mind of exactly what she had suffered at the hands of Hydra. Sam took a sip of his now cold coffee, hiding his grimace behind his mug, watching the others closely as he digested this new information. The dots were joining together in his mind as everything started to add up. He couldn't lie and say everything made sense, there was still missing links, but Holly's revelation meant the bigger picture was growing in size. It might not explain why Holly gave the impression she was a soldier, but it certainly explained her scars and her cautious nature, and her panic attack in the medical wing.

Sam glanced at the others. Guilt was visible across Stark's face, a surprise in his opinion, not that Sam thought the other man didn't feel it, but rather that he was showing it so visibly. Out of all the Avengers, Stark was the one he had the least contact with, despite living in the Tower with him, but from those brief times, their paths had crossed in the last nine months, with him busy sorting things out back home to move from DC to New York to help Steve find Bucky. Something that had become null and void when Bucky showed up at the Tower just over a month later. Yet regardless of how little they interacted, Sam got the impression that Stark rarely let people see what he truly felt. Hiding behind his sarcasm, intelligence and playboy image as though it was his shield. Most of the time, he was in his lab, working on his latest invention or updating his suits or creating something that would help the team. His eyes darted to Natasha. A guarded look crossed her face before she disappeared after a doctor, no doubt in his mind she was going to check on Clint. Bruce looked exhausted, fighting to stay awake, so it was hard to gauge what exactly he was feeling, and Thor appeared to be looking inward, deep in thought with an understanding of the universe that Sam could never hope to comprehend.

He darted a look between Steve and Bucky. Steve had withdrawn inwards, as much as he was able to do so as the crushing weight of guilt, anger and pain pressed down on him. Sam didn't need to be an expert in being able to read that. His body language screamed it. Arms crossed defensively, head down trying to ensure he showed as little of what he was feeling as possible and avoiding eye contact—the slight sagging of his shoulders. Bucky was cold retreating into the programming of the Winter Soldier. Something Sam had no doubt he didn't even realise he was doing, but it made him unreadable. Sam had no doubt guilt would be eating him up. The gut-wrenching possibility that his and Holly's paths had crossed during her ten months with Hydra. There was no way they wouldn't know that she was the soulmate to both him and Steve, and they would have likely used it to their advantage. Sam knew that Bucky was more than likely thinking whether he was responsible in some part in hurting Holly and he couldn't remember. Sam didn't think that was likely, not with what he had seen of their interactions, while wary of him, Holly treated Bucky more normal than anyone else, even Steve, who was trying his damn hardest, in every way he could. Yet Holly was as unreadable as Bucky at times and was giving nothing away to indicate she had crossed paths with Bucky before. If she had, she would have known he was her soulmate at the time and the surprise had been genuine when they had first met.

Sam let out a sigh as he moved around the kitchen counter to pour the remains of his coffee in the sink and make a fresh batch. As much as he knew he needed sleep, to regain his strength, not everyone had super-soldier serum running through their veins, or was an Asgardian; he knew there was still too much to do. He needed to ensure Steve and Bucky were okay, check in with the other agents. Usually, Natasha and Clint touched base with the others when Hill wasn't around, but Natasha was like a tightly coiled spring ready to snap at a moment's notice until she had checked on Clint herself. It meant he needed to do it and to do that he needed coffee, lots and lots of coffee.

He was aware of somebody moving behind him; he didn't need to be a super-soldier or a hotshot spy to be mindful of his surroundings. Sam glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see the blonde-haired woman, Tracey, Holly had called her. Blue eyes met his gaze studying him, and Sam couldn't shake the feeling that she was assessing him. The emotion in her eyes was fathoms deep, and Sam couldn't even begin to unravel everything he was seeing. Her face gave nothing away, though he couldn't help but take note of the scar on her neck, as though someone had tried to slit her throat and failed badly, or succeeded and she survived.

He gave a warm smile, the kind his grandmother had always found comfort with, on the bad days where she couldn't remember her name let alone him, but had always stated he had a friendly smile.

"Tracey, right? I'm Sam," he greeted, holding out his hand.

Sam couldn't say precisely how long she stared at his hand before taking it, and while he couldn't say it was a friendly warm greeting he got in return, it wasn't completely cold or dismissive.

"Where is Holly?" she inquired, not even bothering to hide the accusation lacing her words.

Sam couldn't say what she suspected them of or even what she was accusing them of but he heard it none the less.

"She went with the Doctor, uh, to the office to get her injuries looked at."

"Of course she was injured," Tracey muttered under her breath, "that is just so typical of her."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked concern evident in his tone, as he leant against the kitchen counter, his attention fixed on Tracey.

Sam had to give Tracey credit; she didn't flinch under the intensity of Captain America's glance. Instead, she swept her gaze towards Steve, her eyes hardening as she looked up at the man, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow that screamed 'I'm not impressed' before she answered.

"Holly tends to ignore herself for the sake of others. She will tell you she is fine with a sword sticking out of her if other people are in danger or need help. She puts them first."

Sam made a note, filing it away for later, no doubt in his mind that information was going to be vitally important in the future. Primarily if Holly worked more and more with the Avengers, he shared a look with Steve, before turning his attention back to Tracey.

"If people need her, she moves heaven and hell to help them. Doesn't matter the personal cost to her, she will still do it; she's the person you want on your side. She's just not very good at taking care of herself," she continued, meeting Steve's gaze, though Sam could admit it had softened slightly, "Don't feel bad that you didn't know she was injured. She isn't going to tell you when she is injured. She isn't going to tell you when something is wrong, and she is going to be damn surprised if you notice, because Holly is used to people only seeing what they want to see and nothing else."

"How likely is going to have a sword sticking out of her?" Steve asked softly; concern flickered in his eyes.

"About a hundred per cent, though I admit the sword is probably a metaphor. I know in our second year Holly was playing a house game with a broken arm. She didn't want to stop and let her team down. The break was pretty bad."

"She has a high threshold for pain."

"She hasn't had a choice for anything different," Tracey said softly, "Holly's stubborn. She doesn't know when to quit, even when quitting is the best thing for her."

Silence hung in the air between them, and Sam shifted uncomfortably. He was getting used to the people around him having more secrets, and more layers than even he could fathom, but the idea of people being in pain and not being able to do anything about it didn't sit well with him. It was one of the reasons he had started working for the Department of Veterans Affairs. To give people the help they needed, a place to talk, a place to come out of the cold void and start to heal. He knew what it was like to be screaming inside, too afraid to open your mouth in case the scream escaped and never stopped. Yet equally fearful that nobody would ever hear, ever see just how much it hurt to breathe, hurt to think and hurt to close your eyes. When all there had been was darkness, and rage, and pain and grief and the cold slithering powerlessness that wormed it's way inside and never let you forget it. He had watched Riley die, helpless and powerless to stop it. Over and over again. He understood Holly helping others, a drive that pushed her through whatever she was feeling. She hadn't been able to help herself at various points in her life, she had felt helpless, and nobody had taken notice, so she pushed herself to take note now and help others. Whatever the cost. Every Veteran he helped, every Veteran he saved from the abyss that swallowed them all made him feel a little less helpless and helped him make up for not being able to save Riley.

Steve had withdrawn into himself again, his thoughts writing themselves across his face.

"How long have you known Holly?" he asked, changing the conversation to something a little lighter. It allowed him to satisfy his curiosity, pouring himself a coffee and refilling other cups that seemed to magically produce themselves on the kitchen counter as soon as the kettle boiled. Funny how that always seemed to happen for whoever the sucker was that stated they were making a drink.

"We went to the same boarding school, I wouldn't say we were friends exactly, we were in different schoolhouses, but everyone knew who Holly was even if they didn't know her."

The guarded look was back in Tracey's eyes, as she moved to pour hot water in her cup, over loose tea leaves. Sam caught the slight scent of liquorice and something he couldn't name.

"So when exactly did you become friends then?"

She shot him a look and smirked slightly, "Nice try."

His eyes widened in surprise as he gave his best innocent expression he could. The kind that said butter wouldn't melt.

Tracey huffed, "Holly's the queen of that look, and you don't even hold a candle to her."

"Ouch, that almost hurt my feelings," he chuckled.

"Only almost?" Tracey cocked an eyebrow, amusement glistening, before softening as she looked, "Your rooms are on the second floor. Just follow the stairs up, and you can't go wrong. There are three bathrooms on that floor as well."

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. It's Holly's foundation. I may not know why she has been playing dead for the last three years, or even why she has chosen now to come back to life. But I know that if she has, it's not going to be good and it's not going to be pretty," Tracey picked up her drink, and moved towards the second door, "Sanctuary offers aid to those who need it. I just hope whatever is coming our way won't require it as much as I fear."

Sam wasn't sure how to respond to that, not that Tracey gave him a chance as she walked out of the kitchen and further into the building.

Steve turned towards him as Tracey left the room.

"What do you think?"

"She's hiding something," Bucky stated, as he approached, not giving him the chance to answer.

"Interrogating them isn't going to make you any friends," Sam jibbed back, before turning his attention to Steve, ignoring the muttered, "I'm not here to make friends," from Bucky.

"He is right though, she is hiding something, or rather she isn't saying everything. She is protective of Holly. Did you spot the scar on her neck, my guess is Holly's saved her life, and that has earned her loyalty. Still, something tells me Holly is the loyal inspiring person." Sam sighed softly, "We have been unloaded with a lot of information tonight, we got our ass's handed to us by Hydra and Enhanced individuals, and then Holly drops a bombshell on us that she has been held captive by Hydra. It explains a lot, but there are a lot of gaps that she isn't telling."

"Is she right, Holly I mean, did we treat her like a villain from the beginning?" Steve asked, guilt dripping from every word and his brow creased together.

"The contract hasn't exactly earned us brownie points," Sam confirmed softly, "And considering Hydra had her for ten months, there isn't a chance in hell they don't know about her connection to you."

"What do we do Sam?"

"Talk to her. Don't push this; she isn't going to open up if we corner her," Sam answered, "Wait for her to come to you and open up. That doesn't mean you can't let her know that you are there at the same time."

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "We should probably take those rooms. Nat won't want to leave Clint, and he won't be ready to move yet. I would rather we were all one place, especially while some of us are injured. I will try and sort out arrangements for moving back to the Tower later."

Sam nodded his head, "I will go and check-in with the others. Let Tank know about Jax."

"Just remember to get some rest."

Sam flashed Steve, a grin, "I will if you will."

Bucky snorted, which Sam responded by flipping him the bird before making his way to the Clinic. It had been a long night, and while his body needed sleep, he doubted he would get much sleep.

XXX

Natasha surveyed the room as she stepped through the door, tilting her head as she listened to the doctor give a breakdown of what had been wrong, and what they had done to fix it. Though Natasha couldn't help but notice that he was oddly vague to a degree in exactly how they had fixed it, still, common sense told her Clint wouldn't be fit for missions any time soon. Not after having surgery on his heart, yet the doctor seemed to be under the impression he would recover quickly.

She gave a nod of her head, indicating she didn't have any further questions before both the doctor and nurse left the room, leaving her alone with Clint. Natasha turned her attention to him, taking a seat next to the bed, moving it ever so slightly, so she had a clear view of the bed and the door, before turning her attention to Clint. He was pale, to pale for her liking, his breathing in sync with the beeping machines that monitored his heart rate. It wasn't like other hospital rooms she had been in before, not even SHIELD facilities. It had something they didn't, though Natasha wasn't sure she could put her finger on exactly what that something was, but it gave her a sense of calmness she wasn't sure she would have felt had they been at a hospital. As though they were truly safe from harm here. As if they had found Sanctuary.

Natasha didn't want to trust that feeling. Wasn't sure she knew how to trust it. It lulled you in with a false sense of security before striking. She shifted in her seat, her eyes scanning every crook and cranny of the room, just to make sure nobody was hiding in the corners, before fixing her attention onto Clint, vigilant until he woke. Nothing, nothing, was going to happen to him on her watch. She had made a promise long ago, and she intended to keep it. Clint would always come back alive to his family; she wouldn't have it any other way.

She couldn't say how long she was there before his eyes started to flutter and open as he slowly came round.

"You look like hell," he garbled, their gazes locking, though Natasha could see how he was struggling to focus on her.

Her lips twitched upward ever so slightly, "You stole my line."

He gave a chuckle which quickly turned into a groan, "Ow, don't make me laugh."

"I will be sure to keep my jokes to myself."

"How bad is it?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, "Do you mean you, or in general?"

"I figured I was bad already, you're visiting me in a hospital bed, and we don't do that."

She gave a tight smile, ignoring the tightening of her heart, "I won't tell anyone if you won't."

"Deal," he groaned.

The smile widened just a smidge, but she would deny it if Clint were ever to call her out on it. She answered wearily, "It was a trap. Weapons were never there, other than to use against us. You and Jax were the severely injured. Two dead and the others will recover."

"And where exactly are we?"

"Holly has brought us to a Foundation Clinic; she is the founder of the Foundation."

"Who knew," he said roughly, though Natasha knew it wasn't a question.

"She was abused." Cutting and straight to the point, keeping to the facts. She didn't beat around the bush; it wasted precious energy.

He shot her a look before responding, "Are you surprised?"

Natasha couldn't say she was. The signs were there if one knew what they were looking for and how to read them.

"No."

"But that's all, is it. How long did you say I was out for exactly?" Clint smiled. Natasha knew what he was doing, humour to distract, it was a weak attempt, but an attempt none the less.

"It can wait," she muttered softly, taking his hand in hers, her mind whirling with the information she had just learnt, digesting it, connecting dots - seeing patterns. He gave her hand a squeeze, blue eyes looked at her intently, almost as if he was about to argue with her, but at the last minute, he decided against it.

"Are you going to tell Laura?" he whispered, a hint of fatigue creeping its way into his words.

"You bet your ass, I am," she confirmed, "I don't keep secrets from your wife. When you are out of here of course and she can hear your voice."

He fell back against his pillow with a groan, eyes closed, "She is going to chew my ass out."

"Without a doubt," Natasha hummed in agreement, "but at least you have an ass to chew out. I don't want to have to take back your body to your family Clint."

He opened one eye and looked at her.

"Is that your way of saying you're glad I'm not dead?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Natasha snorted, in mock outrage, "I don't do sentiments."

"Don't believe you," Clint jibbed.

"You're entitled to your opinion, regardless of whether it is wrong."

He stifled a yawn, though Natasha couldn't help but see the tiredness creeping across his face, "Man, whatever they gave me might be keeping the pain away, but god I'm tired."

"It's because you're getting old," she deadpanned.

"Ouch, Nat, that was a low blow. It could be down to the surgery, you know, the heart surgery I just had?"

"My mistake, your age has nothing to do with it."

"If I weren't so tired right now, I would stay awake just to bug you."

Natasha looked at him, a smirk curving her lips, as she watched him struggle to keep his eyes open and stifle another yawn.

"An empty threat. Rest Clint."

Silence fell, Clint, having shut his eyes and fallen asleep without so much as another word. She leaned back in the chair she was sitting on, not letting go of Clint's hand.

"I'm glad you aren't dead," she whispered, to his sleeping form, and she was, more than he would probably ever know. Forming attachments was a weakness she couldn't allow herself not in the long term. But for now, in the safety of his room, in a place called Sanctuary, she would allow herself this moment. A moment of peace before she put her mask back on and tackled the underbelly of the world she called home.

XXX

Tony knew the taste of guilt and the feel of it. It didn't sit heavy on his chest but inside his brain. Forever replaying, over and over until he could memorise every detail of where he went wrong and how many dues he needed to pay. If was going, to be honest, his tally was too goddamn high as it was, and wasn't likely to ever reduce in this lifetime. Things he had done he couldn't undo. He could make amends in subtle ways, but there were days he wasn't sure he would ever be able to wash clean his sins.

He learnt from them. He adapted, just as he had with his very first Iron Man suit. He learnt by ensuring Rhodey's suit was top notch. Subtle wasn't his speciality, he went full force ahead, never stopping. He knew his flaws better than most people realised. He hadn't meant to corner Potter, for a second time. First with the contract, and again tonight, but the gaps in the knowledge they had of her presented a threat and one he couldn't afford to take with his team, because whether they realised it or not they were his. They had wormed their way through his armour to his gooey insides that made him all vulnerable. They weren't Rhodey, his precious Platypus, nor Happy, his ever-loyal friend. They weren't Pepper who knew him better than he knew himself most days of the week. They weren't family, not yet at the least, but they could be one day, and that was what was important. They were his, just as much as they were the Captain's.

They had their kinks and rough edges where they didn't entirely trust each other, but they trusted enough to fight together to save the world together. So when new information presented itself, when he was able to poke and prod and see what cracked in the mystery that surrounded Holly Potter, he pushed and pushed damn hard. Tony hadn't expected her to push back, hadn't expected her to tell him she didn't owe them a fucking thing, but nor did he expect her to tell a part of her story.

Didn't he suddenly feel insignificant and tiny with every word that she poured forth. Abused. Held captivate. Tortured. One only had to look as far as Barnes to realise that she had no doubt suffered under Hydra's hands. She hadn't trusted them enough to reveal this information.

He was a moron.

An idiot.

He didn't know how to fix it. Holly's words repeated in his head, over and over again. It had been his idea with the contract, his lawyers that had come up with the details.

You looked at me as if I was a villain from the get-go just for existing, what exactly would have made the difference if you found out I had been kept prisoner by Hydra for ten months. Would you have believed me?

It was why he had slipped out of the living room, as soon as he was able to. The Cap, and Wilson, and Barnes were distracted, talking to the blonde who had greeted Potter. As soon as Bruce had fallen asleep where he was sitting exhausted from his transformation, and Thor was deep in thought. He slipped out and made his way to what he could only describe as a playroom. A clear sign that children at some point had found refuge here if the drawings were anything to judge. And what drawings they were, he expected pictures of the Avengers, of superheroes, he did not expect pictures of dragons, and people were flying on broomsticks, and castle and mythical creatures. A mixture of fantasy and talent coming alive before his very eyes.

Tony took a seat on a chair too small for him, as delicately as he could, and used the comms in his suit to communicate with Jarvis.

"Jarvis, buddy, can you reach Pepper for me please?" he sighed wearily.

"Of course, Sir, calling Ms Potts."

Tony listened to the dial tone over the comms finding it oddly soothing, not that he had to wait long before the familiar, comforting voice of Pepper trickled over him.

"Tony, are you okay? They are reporting on the news there was an incident with the Avengers in Brooklyn," she babbled, a sudden note of panic creeping into her voice.

"Already, man, they work fast," he chuckled, not that it fooled Pepper for one second.

"Tony, what happened?" Her tone changed, a little more demanding, a little more cutting, knowing him well enough to know when he was avoiding something.

"I've screwed up, Pepper, and I don't know how to fix it," he sighed, closing his eyes to allow himself a moment to think, a moment to still his mind.

She listened patiently waiting for him to speak, and he did, he unravelled it all the best way he could in his words. He didn't hear judgement in the silence, didn't feel it pressing against his skin as he often did from others, but then Pepper had never really judged him. There were times he had no doubt she wanted to pull her hair out when he aggravated her, and she wanted him to give up the suit, but Tony didn't feel he could do that, and it certainly put a strain on their relationship. There was no doubt about that, but she was his Pepper, his sounding board, his stillness when his mind wouldn't stop.

"You haven't screwed up, not in an unfixable way that you seem to believe you have. Tony, you're human, too curious for your good, and you push people to get a rise out of them, just because you can most of the time," Pepper said kindly and calmly, "but it's not usually out of malice, unless its Senators."

"That was one-time Peps, and he turned out to be Hydra, so really I should be awarded a medal for showing the world he was a dick!" Tony cried.

He heard Pepper's eye roll through the comms. She didn't have to say anything; he could picture it perfectly.

"Do you want me to donate money to the foundation?"

"How about a Gala, then other rich people can donate as well," he chimed.

"I will get started on it, and I will open communication with Mrs Tonks." There was a note of fear lacing Pepper's words, subtle, hardly noticeable, but the pitch in her voice changed ever so slightly, and he was more than used to all the pitches in her voice.

"Is that fear I detect, Ms Potts."

"Caution," Pepper rebutted, "Unlike you, I have a healthy amount of common sense. Mrs Tonks is not a woman I intend to cross any time soon. You would do well to remember that, especially after what she did to Franklin Craver."

"Who?" He asked with a frown, racking his brains for the name. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him remember why.

"Exactly my point, Tony."

He huffed, before ensuring his voice was neutral as he asked the all-important question, "When are you coming home?"

"The jet is scheduled to leave tomorrow, I have two more meetings this afternoon, and then everything should be wrapped up in Hong Kong."

He nodded to himself, before speaking, "Good."

"Stay safe, Tony, and talk to Potter. Clear the air."

Yeah, he could do that maybe, without putting his foot in it. The funny thing was, he wanted to talk to her, without putting his foot in it. He understood shitty childhoods and toxic environments in a way that would surprise most people. He could appreciate Holly's need to want to do something about it and help change the way the world looked at things.

XXX

Hermione stepped through the floo flames precisely three hours after her husband had messaged her. Gaze landing on the sleeping form of her friend, while her daughter snuggled in next to her. She scanned every inch of Holly, she could see the weariness crossing her face even in sleep, cuts and bruises on what skin was visible. Hermione bit at her bottom lip as worry flickered through her before she carefully sealed off their fireplace from the floo-network so they wouldn't have any unexpected visitors and set about strengthening the cottage wards.

She had wanted to return home straight away; caution forced her to continue about her morning as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Hermione was well aware of the eyes that watched her every move in the office, and the moment she rushed off somewhere tongues would be wagging with speculation, and given the deadly game, they were playing, had been playing for the last three years, that simply wouldn't do. Hermione ignored the churning in the pit of her stomach, straightened her shoulders despite the heavy weight pressing against her, schooled her features and got on with work. Taking the time she had to wait to prioritise the information she had been gathering since their last check-in with Holly. To be honest, Hermione hadn't been expecting Holly to check-in for at least another six weeks - which meant that something was wrong, drastically wrong.

The worry hadn't eased upon seeing her friend; in fact, the ball in her stomach only twisted tighter into a knot Hermione wasn't sure she would ever untangle. A floorboard creaked as she took a step towards the kitchen, and she watched in amazement as Holly snapped to attention. Wand in hand - spell already leaving her lips as she glided from one movement to the next off the sofa, shielding Rose in one arm tucked to her body as close as she could while she turned to face a threat. Hermione barely had a chance to raise her wand and cast the Shield Charm before Holly's spell hit it and frizzled into nothing as soon as it made contact. The sound brought Ron to the doorway in a blink of an eye. The three of them looked at each other in silence, before a smile broke out on Ron's face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Holly threw him a disgusted look as he snorted, before turning her attention to Rose, who despite the sudden movement still nestled into the crook of Holly's neck fast asleep.

"Sorry," Holly muttered, throwing a sheepish look as brown eyes looked on at her in concern.

"You don't have to apologise; I had forgotten how quick your reflexes were," Hermione replied softly, softening her face as she dropped her shield and lowered her wand.

Holly glanced down at Rose, still asleep and utterly undisturbed by her sudden movement.

"She takes after Ron; nothing can wake her," Hermione sighed softly, with a roll of her eyes. "I have yet to decide if it is a good thing or not."

"Hey, it was a good thing, apart from waking up for her feeds she slept straight through," Ron cried in mock outrage, "She was nothing like Molly. Percy didn't get any sleep for the first eighteen months."

Guilt twisted across her friends face before she desperately tried to hide it.

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about Holly. We both know that if there were another way of dealing with this mess, you would be here. But we didn't see another option at the time."

"I know," Holly threw her another sheepish look, before schooling her features to give nothing away. She had forgotten how good Holly was at that.

"You can put Rose down in her playpen, she will sleep for a while, we can talk in the kitchen. I will make you your favourite hot chocolate," Hermione declared leaving no room for argument.

She turned on her heel, gave a kiss to Ron as she passed before moving over to the kitchen counter. A wave of her wand resulted in three mugs floating down from the shelves as water boiled under the heating charm she cast. There were times when Hermione found comfort in the familiarity of doing things the muggle way. Not relying on magic, but right now, she used the charms as easy as breathing to allow her to gather her thoughts as much as possible. It was clear from her assessment of Holly trouble was coming; she needed as clear head as possible to allow her to focus on their next course of action.

It didn't take long to make the hot chocolate, adding pumpkin-spiced cream and sprinkled chocolate to the top, and together the three of them sat around the kitchen table quietly as they sipped their drinks. For the moment, none of them wanted to be the first to speak, the first to break the illusion that everything was fine and that their world wasn't possibly going to come crashing down around them.

"What happened, you look like you have just been in a fight," Hermione said, breaking the silence first.

Holly snorted, "That's because I did."

She threw the witch a look, remaining silent, letting her friend take the time she needed to get the story out. Hermione knew better than to rush or push Holly too far. She had learnt over the years, just how stubborn her friend could be and when it was best to remain silent and patient.

"Hydra has an army of witches and wizards."

Silence descended on them, none of them daring to breathe too loud. Hermione could hear her heartbeat pounding loudly in her ears the words repeating in her mind.

"I'm sorry, do you mind repeating that, I don't believe I heard you right the first time?" Ron said, horrified.

Holly grimaced but repeated herself. Ron rose from his seat without a word, moving to the kitchen cupboard Hermione knew he stored the Firewhisky. He only ever brought out whenever his brother George was having a bad night or when Holly had come around in the early hours of the morning with dead eyes and deafening silence. Without hesitating, Ron added some to his hot chocolate and Holly's. Hermione shook her head when he offered it to her, swallowing 'it's not even past noon' as she took another look at Holly.

"I think this story needs more than hot chocolate," he muttered, taking a sip of his drink.

Holly grimaced but didn't deny his comment and in Hermione's eyes that was all the answer that they needed really. Hermione continued to sip her hot chocolate. Her mind was already spinning over all avenues, leaving no stone unturned, while she waited for Holly to continue. Kingsley would need to be informed, as would the others. They would need to move quickly and swiftly if they were going to stand a chance. A chance of what Hermione couldn't say, but delay, wasn't an option.

"It's been going on longer than we first thought. The children," Holly said her tone void of emotion. Though Hermione knew her better than that, outwardly she gave an appearance that this was nothing more than a report, nothing more than her reporting back to them but inside Hermione knew Holly would be raging. "The ones I fought had to be in their twenties, and they were good, trained, as though they had been training for it their whole lives."

"So it's not just for experimentation purposes. They want weapons. They want soldiers," she mused assessingly. Her fingers tapping against the side of her mug as she frowned at the thought of what that meant.

"That is what it looks like. I was so focused on the experiment side I didn't stop to think what they were doing with those that survived," Holly countered, her eyes blazing with anger. "In the grand scheme of Hydra's operations, I saw a drop in the ocean, and while I have found out more over the years, I still don't think it is everything."

"What happened?" Hermione asked, "Last night, I mean, you said there was a fight."

Holly glanced at the both of them, taking a sip of her drink before she started talking. Hermione listened, and she knew Ron was as well. She knew Holly would only break it down to the crucial bits, skipping over her injuries, over those she killed, but Hermione could hear it in the unspoken words, in the silences and gaps of the story, as she moved from point to point, what her friend was leaving out.

"He said, 'the Greater Good will prevail'?" Hermione asked as she spoke she felt a strange lurch of her heart and a coldness sink deep into her soul.

"Yes," Holly confirmed, understanding shining in her eyes.

"Merlin!" Ron whispered his eyes widening. It reminded Hermione so much of their time during the war when they would secret themselves away and talk in hushed tones of what they needed to do. None of them said anything the meaning behind the words and what they meant hung on the air between them.

When they had first discovered that Hydra still existed, both Holly and herself having more understanding what that meant than Ron. The possibility dawned on them that if a muggle terrorist organisation from WW2 had slipped through the nets, then there was a real possibility that Grindelwald's forces had also survived. The two factions had joined forces, Grindelwald having more of an influence than he should have. Hermione would need to look up some old books, the reason why taunting her just out of reach.

"Surely if Grindelwald's Grim Reapers survived they would have joined Riddle?" Ron asked.

"Grindelwald believed it was our right to rule the muggles, the reason he was so dangerous is that he appealed to the muggle-borns, to those that weren't accepted so easily by the Wizarding World. Riddle was all about pureblood, and wanting to destroy his muggle heritage," Holly said softly, tiredness evident in her tone.

"I will have to look through the files, go through the records to see if we can start building a picture of who exactly we will be dealing with," Hermione confirmed, "It will take time, but I should be able to find records."

"That is one step we need to take, but we also need to launch Excalibur," Holly said finally, "And we need to bring the Avengers up to speed about the Wizarding World. If Hydra is using witches and wizards in their arsenal, it changes things. They need to know what they are facing because Hydra is going to target them, and they aren't going to sit back and not fight Hydra."

Hermione blinked in surprise; she hadn't been expecting that. She did not doubt in her mind after listening to Holly's report that they would be launching Excalibur, the Wizarding World as a whole needed to get proactive on their problem as quickly as they could. It meant Kingsley approaching the ICW with everything they had gathered in the last few years. It meant calling on their allies and putting their plans for a worst-case scenario into action. Excalibur hadn't included the Avengers. Hermione could understand the change, could understand the reasoning, but that didn't mean she wasn't wary.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "I can understand the reasoning why. But Tony Stark isn't exactly known for subtlety, he declared on national television he was Iron Man, and that is before you even get into Captain America and the Black Widow revealing SHIELD's and in turn Hydra's secrets to the entire world."

Holly met her gaze with her own, her eyes hardening, "There is no other choice. If Hydra were only experimenting on muggle-borns, then the original plan would work, they would never have needed to know. But Hydra has weaponised the witches and wizards they have taken - it means that they have other witches and wizards working for them, witches and wizards who have chosen to work with them and to train the muggle-borns without caring in the slightest about them." Holly broke off a frown clouded her face, before she continued, "It changes everything. We are going to have to work with them. A team of magic users to counter Hydra's magic users."

"Holly's right," Ron agreed, his face looking hard and shadowed. "We are going to need to work with them Avenger people. Neither of us can win without the other."

Hermione swallowed the nervous dryness from her throat, "I do agree with you. Don't think for a second I don't, I'm just trying to work out how we are going to tackle this problem. Are you going to tell them, or wait for an ICW official?"

"ICW official. It gives them more protection. It will be on file, on record that they know which will tackle the risk of them being Obliviated by anyone looking to make a name for themselves. I want to avoid that if I can."

Hermione nodded, "Leave it with me. I will meet with Kingsley today, and then we can go from there."

"I was half hoping that Hydra had accidentally found out about the Wizarding World, about magic and muggle-borns. That they had found some way to track us, rather than witches and wizards working with them," Holly snorted, "This - this means something else entirely."

Silence filled the kitchen, before Holly pushed herself to her feet, "I need to get back before my absences goes beyond what I can explain."

Hermione rose to her feet so she could walk Holly to the fireplace and the floo network. Taking the precious time, it was just the two of them to study her friend. She could see that something was bothering Holly, something she wasn't voicing, though Hermione wasn't entirely sure what it was.

"What aren't you saying?" she asked quietly, taking a step closer to Holly so not to draw Ron's attention, just in case Holly wanted to discuss something she didn't want Ron to know.

Holly's face crinkled in confusion.

"You forget Holly; I know when something is bothering you," she stated.

"I don't know what you are talking about," Holly muttered, rubbing at her chest. A tick Holly only tended to do when she was anxious. Hermione frowned. Usually, when she was nervous or was losing herself in old thoughts of darkened times when she had been alone with only herself to depend on when no one else had been there for her when she needed comfort when the only comfort she had was the names on across her heart.

Names across her heart, Hermione froze. She knew those names. Had seen them once and twice in their first year and had made a promise of secrecy, and had helped Holly learn how to charm them invisible. Had allowed her research into their meaning and why Holly was soulmarked. Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. Her eyes widened as a sharp spark of realisation shot through her. Why hadn't she connected it earlier? She was a muggle-born, her mother had raised her on the stories of the Howling Commandos - stories about her grandfather and yet she had never connected the names. Never considered the possibility that Captain America and Sergeant Barnes were the notable names on Holly's skin. She supposed the presumption that they were dead at least gave her a viable excuse but Captain America had been visible since the Battle of New York.

"It's them, isn't it?"

Holly's eyes darkened slightly with pain.

"Do they know?" Hermione queried softly, her heart rate quickening beneath her chest. If they hurt Holly, Avengers or no Avengers, she would make them bleed.

"They know," Holly admitted reluctantly, "They knew the moment I walked through the doors."

"What happened, Holly?"

"Nothing important. We have more pressing matters to worry about," Holly denied.

"Holly," Hermione started, pleading with her eyes as she looked at her friend, "It matters, because you are important, you matter. This matters."

Holly shook her head, "I'm not a little girl anymore. Whatever the marks meant then, they don't mean it now. I grew up. I learnt the hard way; the universe doesn't give a shit about what you want, it will still find ways to screw you over, because it doesn't owe you a god damn thing. It just gives you false promises."

Hermione swallowed down her rage. If she could, she would hunt down the Dursleys and make them suffer for the damage they inflicted on an innocent child. She would raise Dumbledore from his grave just to kill him again, for giving Holly the impression she was only ever worthy of being sacrificed.

"I will feed them to Grawp if I have to. You deserved to be loved so much, and if they can't see that then they don't fucking deserve you."

Holly gave a tight smile, "It's not like that, Hermione. They have their issues, their past, and the whole thing it's just one complicated, messy ball. It's two halves that make a whole, not three, and that isn't going to change."

"Three is a magical number Holly, more powerful than two," she said, "a triquetra is known as the trinity knot. It is composed of three interlaced equivalently arcs. All of them are equal in value."

"Triquetra are rare, and usually between magical's Hermione."

"But still valid. Whatever happens, you are more than just a sacrifice. You are loved, by me, by Ron, by Rosie, by Teddy, by the Weasleys, and by everyone whose life you touch," Hermione soothed, "You are a light in this world, that it doesn't deserve. Whatever happens we have your back, now and always."

Hermione stepped closer, wrapping her arms around her friend; Holly paused, like she always did, even now uncertain how to handle affection before sinking into the hug and wrapping her arms around tightly.

"Don't you dare fucking dare die on me, Holly."

"I can't make that promise, but I will do my best not to," Holly hummed in agreement, before whispering, "I love you, Hermione."

Her chest tightened, Holly didn't often say the words, she was more actions than words, and Hermione knew she still had this fear that if she said the words aloud the person she told them to would die. When she did say them though, it tugged at her heart every damn time.

"I love you too."

It was Holly that stepped back first, breaking away and moving towards the fireplace.

"I will be in touch soon, keep you up to date with what is going on."

She nodded her head, "I will let you know as soon as I have spoken to Kingsley and we have arranged a meeting with the ICW. Knowing the amount of red tape, we have to go through your looking at a month at the earliest."

Another tight smile, "I will do my best to keep them alive and away from magic until then."

Hermione watched as Holly grabbed a handful of floo powder, waved her wand over the wards she had put in place and stepped into the fireplace, disappearing in a flash of green flames.

"Please stay safe," she whispered to an empty room, hating that she couldn't join her friend's side. It was only in a situation like now when she knew Holly was in the thick of danger alone, that Hermione hated that she was stuck behind. She didn't regret her family, her career in the slightest, she loved it with every ounce of her being, but she hated knowing that Holly didn't have anyone to watch her back.

Turning on her heel, she moved back to the kitchen, "Ron, I need you to send a message to Bill and Charlie, we have work to do."

A determined look crossed her husband's face. Both of them were willing to do everything in their power to ensure Holly's safety and Merlin help anyone who stood in their way.

XXX

Wearily Holly stepped out of the fireplace in Katie's office, her shoulders sagging as her entire body protested loudly at any movement she made. The few hours sleep she had managed to catch in the safety Rosewood Cottage had offered her had did little to replenish her energy, if anything broken sleep made her worse. Everything hurt. A sigh escaped her lips; she didn't have time for any more sleep, at least not yet. Turning on her heels, Holly sealed off the fireplace to prevent any unwanted visitors, while she mentally checked off updating Hermione and Ron, and the activation of Excalibur. On the Wizarding side, everything depended on Hermione and Kingsley notifying the right people of the threat they now faced, while Ron worked through their contacts. It was a network that had taken time to build, consisting of old DA members, those who fought in the Final Battle and others that had come into their orbit that would help should another threat ever rear its head. Holly couldn't do much from her side, at least not in contacting the ICW but that didn't mean she had to sit ideally waiting for the Wizarding World to make contact.

Pulling out the two wands she had managed to confiscate during the fight, she held them in her hand and studied them. Wandlore was not something she had much knowledge on, but she could tell the differences between them, by the length and the wood used. In theory, she could use them to track down the owners, provided she found the right wandmaker, and for that, she would need Grave's help. It was at least a clue in tracking down the witches and wizards involved with Hydra. It was a start. It was something she could work with, something to move her in the right direction. If she could find them, they could potentially lead her to where the children were.

Stealing herself to get through the next couple of hours before she could finally rest properly, Holly crossed the room and opened the office door, slipping out into the corridor as quietly as she could. Not wanting to alert anyone she was awake and moving around. Opening up about everything, or at least as much as she could tell them was like picking at a wound that hadn't healed properly. It left her feeling tired, drained and more than a little irritable. And it was only the beginning. She would need to work with them on the information she had about the muggle-borns, without actually revealing to the Avengers that they were magical. Perhaps opening that can of worms wasn't her best idea, but she couldn't turn back now. She would just need to do her best and hope that the ICW would authorise the Avengers to know about the Wizarding World sooner rather than later.

Shoving everything to one side, Holly moved through Sanctuary, taking the third set of stairs that led from the first floor directly to a storeroom, within the Clinic. It was one of the many staff passageways that had allowed the cleaners and housekeepers to move about the hotel freely keeping out the way of the guests, and something Holly had expanded on to her advantage, it meant that she wasn't likely to run into anyone. Holly strengthened her shields hoping she would at least fool Steve and Bucky into thinking she was resting and not awake, avoiding them a straightforward goal, until she worked out what it was she was going to tell them. Personally, Holly was going down the route of actively avoiding until she had no choice but to deal with it. She was good at doing that, avoiding things.

The Clinic was quiet; those who had needed beds were still there, resting, sleeping and healing. The nurses gave her nods as she passed, checking on each of the patients more for her peace of mind than any other reason. Starks men standing guard and she noted that some police officers had joined their vigilant watching. Holly found Graves sitting by the bed by one of his colleagues. His attention darted her way as she made her way over, and she gave a slight nod indicating they needed to talk.

He pushed himself to his feet following her as she moved to the nurses' station, giving them some privacy which Holly added to by casting the Muffliato Charm, should anyone stray to close.

"How are your people?" Holly asked gently, tilting her head to the side as she looked up at Graves, her eyes sweeping across him. She could see the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself, all coiled tightly, as though he wanted to lash out and hit something. There was anger seething below the surface, his jaw clenched tightly together, but he was keeping a tight leash on it. But just as much as there was anger, there was something else there as well. His chin lowered to his chest, and his gaze didn't quite meet hers.

"We lost two," Graves admitted brokenly, the pained glaze in his eyes open for anyone to see.

"I'm sorry," Holly said, softly, "I know the words aren't enough, can never be enough, but I am truly sorry."

A flash of temper lightened his eyes as his gaze met hers.

"What exactly did we fucking walk into back there?" Nostrils flaring and more bite to his tone than there had been seconds before.

Holly swallowed the lump in her throat, "A trap. And a complicated mess."

Graves tone hardened, "Explain."

It wasn't a question, it was a demand, and Holly didn't blame in the slightest. She had screwed up mostly by not seeing the true picture of what Hydra was planning. She had been so focused on finding the missing children; she hadn't stopped to think about what Hydra was doing with those that survived the experiments. The fact that she hadn't seen the possibility of them raising an army was on her. Taking a breath, Holly did just that. She explained what she was doing keeping it down to the crucial facts. Missing muggle-borns. Hydra kidnapped them. Experiments. Raised an army. She would be able to give him a better breakdown another time, but for now, she gave him what he needed, what he wanted to make sense of tonight's events, understanding of what he, they had all stumbled into and what they were facing.

"And you are certain he said 'Greater Good will prevail'?" his brow drawn together tightly as he digested what she had told him.

Holly nodded, "I was afraid that the muggles had found a way to track magic. Their technology is more advanced than the Wizarding World like to believe, men in flying suits just the tip of the iceberg, but tonight shows they are getting help from our side as well."

"Fuck!" he whistled.

"That summons it up perfectly," Holly agreed, pressing her lips together, "I know it's a lot to take in, and I have people reaching out to the ICW now, but this is bigger than what I first thought, and I am not going to be able to face it alone. None of us are."

Graves frowned, "None of us know who is working with Hydra, what the end game is or what is drawing them to the cause."

"Which doesn't help, and leaves us with more problems than solutions," Holly confirmed, tiredly, "At least with Voldemort, you knew what he wanted. Grindelwald, you knew what he wanted. Whoever is working with Hydra is an unknown, we don't know what they want, how many people agree with them or anything."

"What do you need?" Graves asked his eyes alert and shining with a glint of determination, "How can I help?"

"Helping could cost you your job?" Holly cautioned, because if he was going to help, then Graves needed to help with his eyes wide open. She wouldn't lie to him. She might tell him the personal stuff, she might not share every secret with him, but about this, she wouldn't lie, not if he was to become her ally.

"I know," he admitted, crossing his arms, "My Auror brethren may think working with muggles beneath them, and I can admit this job, this position wasn't exactly what I pictured when I finished my training, but the muggles, the detectives they are my team. They are my people just as much as witches and wizards are. They might not know everything about me, and I might never be able to share the Wizarding World with them, but -"

"They're family," Holly finished, looking at him. She could hear the truth in his words, knew that he meant what he was saying. Knew that he would help fight whatever it was they went up against.

Holly ignored the wiggling slither of doubt that was currently unsettling her stomach and pressed on, "I confiscated two wands, in the fight. I was hoping you would be able to help me track down the maker. If we can get an idea of who they are, we can work out where they hang out and hopefully -" she trailed off with a shrug.

"You are hoping that they will lead you to the other children."

She nodded, a weary sigh escaping her lips as she rubbed at her left arm, "or an idea of who they are and their goals. They have to have some connection to the Wizarding World. It's a clue, a lead I need to follow and hopefully, it pans out."

Graves nodded, swallowing slowly, "My Captain is calling me in. He wants a report. It will tie me up with that for most of the day, and I need to go and see the family members of," he stopped his voice, catching, and Holly knew who he meant without him voicing it aloud. He was going to see the family of those who had fallen. "See if I can do anything for them. But tomorrow, I will go with you to the two wand makers we have, and we can go from there."

Holly caught the emphasise on Captain, and knew he meant the Captain of the Aurors.

"Then you best go and report to your Captain. Your men will be fine here, and can stay until they are healed, or need to move elsewhere," Holly said softly, "If anyone asks I will say you are reporting in."

"Most of the guys will be moved or discharged today, which considering the magic you have around this place it's probably best," Graves noted, throwing her a pointed look.

"It offers Sanctuary to those who need it, regardless of whether they are magical or muggle." Holly shrugged.

"I can see that," Graves said softly, "I should go."

He started moving, cancelling out her spell as he stepped away from the Nurses station.

"Graves," Holly called; the wizard glanced over his shoulder at her, "Thank you. For helping tonight, you didn't have to. You didn't have to expose yourself like that."

He gave her a tight smile, "Helping people, whether they are magical or not, is one of the reasons I became an Auror."

Holly watched him walk away, making his way towards the back entrance and out into the world outside. Glancing around, she took one last look at the Clinic. The place had received a lot of exposure tonight, and Holly didn't trust everyone involved, but the options hadn't been in their favour, and they hadn't had another choice. But that didn't mean she wouldn't send a message to Andy to strengthen the wards and look to start moving to their second location in the city. Showing caution didn't hurt after all.

Satisfied everything was secure she moved towards the doors that led to the living area of the building. Schooling her features to hide her tiredness as best she could, she stepped through them, making her way towards the kitchen.

XXX

Steve stared at the dark ceiling above him, taking note of the glittering stars that somebody had captured and painted across the room. They seemed to radiate a warm glow that he could only describe as comforting, beautiful, despite doing nothing to help still his racing mind. His chest tightened with every breath he took, reminding him so much of the days and nights before the serum when it hurt to breathe. When it had gotten so bad as though he was drowning, those nights, those awful nights, Bucky had often stayed by his side, concern burning in his blue eyes as sheer determination settled across his face. As though his will, and will alone kept him alive. The bond that pulsed between then had always been a comfort. Still, those nights they were a lifeline he had kept fighting towards, refusing to give an inch, because if he did, if Steve gave up, he would be losing Bucky, and that had been unacceptable scenario he would never willingly choose. Less difficult times, when things weren't perfect by any means, but they weren't shattered glass with razor-sharp edges that cut to the bone every time he tried to grasp them and piece them back together with blood-soaked hands. Times when he wasn't a hero, when the world didn't depend on him, and when his choices didn't get people killed.

His mind like a carousel, a forever turning carousel, running through the night's events, every mistake he made every miscalculation on his part. What he should have planned different to ensure success, what steps should he have taken instead of those he did. How could he have prevented the deaths tonight? Failure,it was a bitter taste in his mouth. And yet it seemed all he was capable of since waking up from the ice. They may have won the Battle of New York, but the cost to unite them had been Coulson's life. He had worked hard for SHIELD, only to discover Hydra at its very heart and Bucky their prisoner. He had failed Bucky, and there was no way he could ever make up for that failure. Add in with Holly's revelation, her words, her tale and all the unspoken words that hung in the air. It was clear he had failed her as well.

"You found out my name and that I was the soulmate to both Captain America and the Winter Soldier and you slapped a contract my way. A tight iron one, would you have believed me if I spoke out then? You looked at me as if I was a villain from the get-go just for existing, what exactly would have made the difference if you found out I had been kept prisoner by Hydra for ten months. Would you have believed me?"

Steve liked to think he would have believed her, not that he had gone out of his way to make himself approachable in any way, shape or form. He had actively gone out of his way to avoid her those first few days, and then circumstances had resulted in them needing to spend time together. Two weeks wasn't exactly a long time in the grand scheme of things, but it was enough to make him realise he hadn't been fair on Holly, that he hadn't handled the situation in the best way possible. She hadn't trusted them, they were supposed to be the guys' people came to for help, and she hadn't, not that Steve could blame her in the slightest. He hadn't given her reason to trust him. None of them had.

Except Bucky seemed to at least try.

And you didn't.

There was a thickness in his throat and tightening knots in his stomach. Rest was futile, not while he as tightly wired as he was. Running wasn't an option, neither was going a few rounds at the gym, either with Bucky, Thor or a punch bag. Though nine times out of ten Bucky usually avoided sparring with him. It left him limited options, but he knew staring at the ceiling was not helping. He sat up and pushed himself off the bed. He had instructed the others to try and get rest, but it eluded him, he couldn't say whether the others had followed his advice, but from the quivering pulse of the bonds he knew Bucky was equally restless.

Leaving his room, Steve stepped out onto the corridor, hesitating outside the room Bucky had closeted himself inside. A weary sigh escaped his lips as Steve closed his eyes, willing his mind to still. Did he knock, or did he leave Bucky to gather himself? Steve didn't want to push too hard, but at the same time, he didn't want Bucky to feel as though he was alone. He lowered his hand, choosing a retreat for the time being. It didn't sit well with him, but a small part deep inside who was still desperately afraid of rejection didn't want Bucky to do so now. He was a coward there was no other way to look at it, but he would rather deal with a hundred plus enemy soldiers than have Bucky push him away, again.

He moved to the staircase, quietly descending so not to disturb anyone else should they have managed to get some sleep, before making his way back towards the kitchen diner living room.

The sun was rising, pale pinks and reds peeking through the window and dancing across the kitchen worktops. Bruce was softly snoring in the chair a thick woollen blanket covering most of him. They hadn't wanted to disturb him just to move him elsewhere, not when he had looked comfortable and peaceful enough in the armchair.

Steve was surprised to find he wasn't the only one awake; Holly was moving about the kitchen, stiffly and a little slower than usual.

"Do you need a hand?" he asked, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"I can manage thanks," Holly replied, "Do you want a drink?"

"I don't want to put you out," he muttered.

"You aren't," she said lightly.

Uncertain what he should be doing, Steve moved to a barstool and sat down. The silence stretched between them as the kettle boiled, and Steve wasn't sure what to say to her. They hadn't had that many conversations before her revelation earlier this morning, but now his words appeared stuck in his throat. Where did he even begin? A voice that sounded too much like Peggy for comfort scolded him for his idiocy.

"Are you okay?" he asked, studying her closely. A mask of reserve seemed to cover her face. Still, Steve couldn't ignore the bruise that was forming across her cheekbone, his eyes dropped to her exposed arm, the tactical suit she had been wearing cutaway, a bandage was wrapped tightly around an arm, and he could see scraps and cuts along her shoulders.

"Nothing more rest won't cure. Though I have to admit, I don't recommend getting hit by one of those weapons," Holly answered her lips twitching in amusement.

"You are lucky to be alive," he pointed out.

She slowly raised an eyebrow at him, green eyes looking almost amused, "Occasionally, my Potter Luck goes my way."

Steve wasn't sure what he could say to that. Not that Holly expected him to, as she busied herself finishing the drinks before passing him his coffee. Steve couldn't keep the surprise from showing that it was just how he liked it. Holly gave him another look as she took a sip of her drink.

"You haven't gotten any sleep, have you?" Her face creased in concern

"No," he admitted, feeling drained. "I find it hard to sleep in general, but right now, everything is replying over and over again."

Holly tilted her head, her eyes fixed upon him, "That's understandable. You haven't exactly had time to adjust in the grand scheme of things. You woke up from the ice, dealt with an alien invasion. Then you threw yourself into working, into SHIELD, only for SHIELD to have at its core the people you were fighting against seventy years ago. Not to mention Bucky." Holly blinked, as she took another sip of her drink, "Then you have spent the last nine months chasing after Hydra. You need a hobby. One that doesn't involve fighting or saving the world."

Steve gave a tight smile, "I don't think I have the time."

"Soldiers have hobbies, Steve. They have passions and loves just like everyone else, and they also need to recharge. There is time. To carve out a moment for yourself and you shouldn't feel guilty for doing so. The world will still be there if you take time out. And if it needs saving, if it needs Captain America in the time you are being Steve, well I'm sure you will know about it."

She gave a reassuring smile, her gaze softening.

"And as I said before. Tonight wasn't your fault. Going over it will just drive you crazy. Hydra has allies, allies none of us could have foreseen. All we can do is adapt to the fact, learn from tonight, and be better next time."

Steve got the distinct impression she was peeling away his layers and seeing everything he didn't want the world to see. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, and his words stuck in his throat. Holly seemed to understand him in a way that should have been impossible for someone to do in such a short time unless they knew unless they had experienced what he was going through.

"It doesn't help the people that died tonight."

"No," Holly sighed, bleakly, "It doesn't, but their deaths aren't your fault. Hydra killed them. Not you Steve, Hydra. All we can do is fight with everything we have to prevent Hydra from winning because that's what they were fighting against as well. Save as many lives as we can, but also understanding we can't save everyone. No matter how much we want to."

Steve looked at her, she was watching him closely, but Steve could see her eyes swimming with her memories, lessons she had learned the hard way. Holly knew the doubt that gnawed at his soul because she knew what it was like to lead people only for them to die and for her to survive. She knew survivors guilt; she lived and breathed it every day.

"You didn't want to return did you?" he said suddenly, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "When you escaped Hydra, I mean. Even though you had spent ten months as a prisoner you felt guilty that you had survived and your team didn't, so you let the world believe you were dead because you thought you deserved to be."

Her gaze wavered from his, and he could see the shutters slamming down hard and fast in her eyes. Steve knew he had caught her off guard, caught her by surprise.

"It allowed me to move unseen," she countered, her voice held a tremor.

"True, but you were punishing yourself as well. Cutting yourself off from everything you knew and loved, because you survived and your team didn't."

"Kenneth's wife was seven months pregnant at the time of that mission," she whispered, her eyes misting with tears, "and I got him killed. He never got to meet his son, and his son never got to meet his dad. I didn't deserve to go home."

"Yes, you did," he said softly, "you deserved to go home. You didn't deserve to be held prisoner by Hydra."

She met his eyes, and for a brief moment, Steve saw a flash of pain, of the anguish that bubbled beneath the surface, her walls crumbling ever so slightly. She was a storm of emotions; they pulsed through the bonds until Steve was choking on them as if they were his own.

Steve moved without thinking to her side, cursing his stupidity of picking at that particular thought, for voicing it aloud in the first place, for pushing to fucking hard. The inner storm that was currently raging through her was down to him. He had put his foot in his mouth. Sam said not to push her, and he had done just that.

"Would it be okay if I hugged you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, "I - I." She started before nodding, unable to get the words out. Steve couldn't help but wonder how many times Holly had had a hug, that the idea of someone offering was strange.

Slowly he pulled her into a hug, and she surprisingly let him. Her body stiffened, as though she was uncertain what exactly she was supposed to do, or because it was him that was hugging her, Steve couldn't say. After a moment of awkwardly standing there, she wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her head into his chest and breathed, relaxing into him as she exhaled. She fit snug to his body, her head tucked under his chin, and his arms wrapped around her waist, a sharp reminder that while she had curves and was somebody who worked out and trained, she was petite.

He took a breath, closed his eyes as he inhaled her scent, something sweet and spicy with a hint of something he couldn't quite name but gave him the distinct impression of nectar. He focused on bonds between them, on steadying them, soothing the turmoil that was twisting through them. Sharing his steadfast shields to help calm her, he didn't want her to be in pain, lost in the darkness of her memories not if he could pull her out. Nor did he want to drag Bucky into the tangle and open abyss that all three of them would fall in. As much as the bonds between soulmates could be a good thing, they had their drawbacks. What affected one could easily affect the other. Energy zapped and sparked pulling him down the bonds further than he had expected. It was like nothing Steve had experienced before. Slipping through Holly's shields, he wasn't sure she was even aware that she had opened herself that much. There was the music; the soft sweet melody where everything glistened and glowed and patterns of colours swirled before him. Light and dark swirled together, fire and ice, a giant ball of, Steve wasn't sure what exactly, but it looked like the stars, the cosmos swirling around with hues of purples, blues, reds and blacks. It brushed against him like a whisper, heat and ice trailing across his skin. Goosebumps prickled his arms, and all Steve could do was stare in awe. The turmoil that had been churning had calmed, the raw emotions from Holly soothed to stillness, and he was suddenly aware of the chill in the air as she closed off the bonds, keeping her thoughts and feelings securely behind her mental shields. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened between them, but from his own experience with the bonds and sharing them with Bucky, he had never felt such raw power, energy with them.

Holly pulled out of the hug, her eyes guarded, everything tucked away inside out of anyone's reach.

"Thank you," Holly said, swallowing nervously, "for the hug."

Steve shook his head, "You don't have to thank me. I'm sorry I pushed a little too hard. Especially after Tony."

"You didn't," she said with a tight smile, "I guess we are alike in the fact we feel responsible for the deaths of those around us."

"I guess we are," he murmured in agreement, his lips twitching ever so slightly, "I will try and work on it if you will."

Her smile changed, not a forced one, but one in agreement, "I can do that."

Steve cleared his throat, shifting on his feet nervously; uncertain what to say next, as it happened Holly saved him from trying to fill the silence.

"I'm going to grab a shower. I'm sure Katie will be up soon to speak to you about the possibility of transferring the guys to the Tower if that makes you feel more comfortable," she danced on the balls of her feet. "I can't guarantee they will be up for moving, but she can present you with options."

He licked his lips, nodding in agreement, "I need to touch base with Hill. Find out anything we know from the cleanup. We will all have to debrief later."

"Sure," Holly hummed in agreement, before picking up her mug and walking around him. He watched her go, feeling a mix of comfort by their conversation and even more confused than ever.

He let out a deep sigh, reaching for his comms and asking Jarvis to patch him through the Hill; it was another day's problem. He couldn't lose focus on the fact that Hydra was still out there, with alien tech that they had monopolised and weaponised. They were still after Bucky, and they had Enhanced working with them. Things were getting complicated and as much as it would be easy to lose himself and allow doubt to eat him up. Steve couldn't afford to let that happen.

"Hill, any news?" He greeted as Hill's voice echoed through his ears.

XXX

Maria ended the call to Steve bleary-eyed and exhausted as she leant back against her car seat. Working with Damage Control was exhausting, Hoag, a formidable woman that attempted to steamroll over anyone who got in her way. Maria could understand the iron will Hoag composed herself with, working in an environment that many considered a 'man's world' was exhausting. She l remembered those early days when Fury had made her Deputy Director of SHIELD when people questioned her orders at every turn simply because she gave them. Maria fought tooth and nail to prove she knew what she was talking about, knew what she was doing. Just because SHIELD had fallen, at least in the public's eye, and most intelligence communities wanted to drop her in a dark hole still, didn't mean she would cower easily. She deflected Hoag's questions about Potter and where the Avengers had disappeared. She had stood her ground when confiscating some of the weapons that Hydra had left behind, and she had walked away with Hoag started getting personal. Using every breathing trick in the book to keep her anger leashed and her composure in place.

Hoag knew how to push her buttons that was a given. And after having spent the last seven minutes and thirty-three seconds, not that she was counting, communicating with Steve and updating him on everything and vice versa she desperately wanted to retreat to her room in the Tower for some much-needed sleep. Except she had one more thing, she needed to do first. Opening the glovebox, she pulled out a secondary cell she had. Already encrypted with software that would ensure her calls were untraceable, she pressed number 2 on the speed dial and waited for the video call to connect.

Maria was a practical person. She knew when they were in over their heads, knew when help was needed and wasn't afraid to ask for it. Fury had always taught her that if she didn't have the necessary skill set to do something, then find the person who did and point them in the right direction. Utilise contacts, make allies. The world was a big place, and while showing caution was second nature, Maria knew it took more than one person to keep the world safe. Trusting people didn't come naturally to her, but there were a few she trusted without question.

The call connected, and the familiar smile greeted her warmly.

"Commander."

She gave a small smile, "Not any more Commander died the day SHIELD fell. You are the Director now, with a better SHIELD. It's good to see you, Phil."

"And you, Maria," Phil chirped, "What can I do for you?"

"The Avengers need your help, Phil. They need SHIELD's help. It's time."

XXX

Previously I said I was working on a new Harry Potter/Avenger story. I have the first chapter done on that story, but want to write a couple more before I share it. It is coming along nicely, and I am really excited to be able to share it with you. It will be another female Harry story, but I will be delving into the trope A/B/O - much like the soulmates trope I want to see if I can do something a little different with it, while avoiding some usual things. I know it won't be to everybody's tastes, and I was hesitant to begin with when the idea first started spinning, but it wouldn't go away so I decided to stick with it.