The jet descended toward the airfield, the hum of the engines cutting through the crisp air as the team made their way to the safehouse. Alexei's mind was still a storm of thoughts—about the past, the present, and what was to come. He glanced around the cabin, his eyes flicking to Natasha, Bucky, and Harry, all of whom seemed lost in their own thoughts as well. The weight of everything—Hydra, the weapons, the new team, the kid with the vibranium skeleton—was settling in, but for Alexei, the best way to deal with it was through bad dad jokes.
With a sigh, he muttered, "You know, I've been in worse situations than this. Once, I was trapped in a KGB karaoke bar with a bottle of vodka and a man who thought he could sing. That... that was real torture. And don't get me started on the wardrobe choices. Who thought a green sequin suit would ever be a good idea?"
Natasha rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. Bucky's expression remained stoic, but even he couldn't help the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. Harry, however, just gave him a long, blank stare that seemed to say, Seriously?
As the jet touched down, the group disembarked, stepping onto the airfield with the cold New York air biting at their faces. Alexei adjusted the collar of his jacket and squinted into the distance. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw who was waiting for them.
Standing tall, looking like he'd just stepped out of a 1940s photograph, was none other than Steve Rogers—Captain America. Alexei froze. He had thought the man had died during World War II. It was a shock to see him standing there, looking exactly the same, not a day older. Beside him stood Peggy Carter, though not the seasoned director of S.H.I.E.L.D. that Alexei had heard about. This Peggy was younger, more vibrant, as though time had never touched her.
"Holy mother of God," Alexei muttered under his breath, his thick Russian accent barely containing the surprise. "You've got to be kidding me. Steve Rogers is still alive?"
"What's that?" Natasha asked, giving him a sidelong glance.
Alexei shook his head slowly, still staring. "That's Captain America, the original Super Soldier. And I thought I was the only one who could kick Hydra's ass. This is... this is gonna be interesting."
As they approached, Nick Fury, the one-eyed director of S.H.I.E.L.D., stepped forward, his gaze flicking over the team before locking onto Alexei with that patented Fury intensity.
"Shostakov," Fury greeted in his gravelly voice, raising an eyebrow. "It's good to see you, though I'm sure you're not thrilled to be here."
Alexei smirked, tapping his fingers together. "You know, Fury, I always imagined you with a little more… one-eyed menace and a little less government-issued suit. But I guess you're pulling off the look. Just don't go trying to recruit me for some intergalactic space mission or anything—last time I checked, I don't do space."
Fury chuckled dryly. "You'd be surprised at the things we do, Shostakov. You might not have a choice."
As they all exchanged brief greetings, Alexei's eyes kept drifting back to Steve Rogers. He couldn't resist a joke, even if the moment was serious.
"Alright, Steve," Alexei said, walking up to him with a wide grin. "I've always wanted to know—how does it feel to be the original Super Soldier? You and me, we could have had some fun back in the day. Just think of it—two supers, side by side, kicking ass and taking names. But now? Now you've got all these guys running around with enhanced this and enhanced that. I bet you're feeling a little outclassed, huh?"
Steve's smile was as wide as ever, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. "You must be Alexei," he said, extending a hand. "I've heard stories. Some of them even sounded like they could've been true."
Alexei took the hand firmly, squeezing it with surprising strength for a man his age. "Oh, I've got stories. Some of them are even legal in most countries."
Just as Steve was about to respond, a voice cut through the air. A tall man with dark hair and a well-worn suit walked forward—Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye, sporting a quiver and bow slung over his shoulder. He grinned at Alexei.
"I see you've already started with the dad jokes. You're gonna fit right in," Clint said, his tone light and friendly, but his eyes sharp.
"Dad jokes?" Alexei raised an eyebrow. "My friend, I am a connoisseur of dad humor. You want bad jokes? I'll give you bad jokes. Like the time I tried to take down a Hydra agent with a rubber chicken. Do you know what they say about chickens, my friend? They're excellent at winging it."
Clint groaned, rolling his eyes. "Please don't tell me we've got another one of those. I've heard enough bad puns to last a lifetime."
Before Alexei could retort, two figures appeared by Clint's side. A woman with short black hair and a stern expression, Melinda May, stepped forward, giving Alexei a sharp glance. Behind her stood two more figures—Ted and Andromeda Tonks, both of whom looked as if they belonged in the medical field.
"Alright, Shostakov," Ted said, his eyes scanning Alexei's worn frame. "We've been instructed to run diagnostics. You've been in that hellhole for too long, and we need to make sure you're not carrying any... baggage."
Alexei gave him a wide grin. "You've got to be kidding me. I just got out of prison, and now you want to check for baggage? If you find anything, I promise I'll share. But it better not be your medical bills."
Andromeda shot him a sharp look, though her face softened a little as she started scanning him. "You're not making this easy, are you?"
"Of course not," Alexei replied with a smirk. "Life's too short for easy, right?"
As they began their scans, Alexei's gaze shifted again to Steve Rogers. A quiet tension lingered between them, one of unspoken competition. Alexei couldn't help himself. He leaned over to Bucky, who was observing the scene, and muttered under his breath.
"You ever wonder how I'd match up with him? The original Super Soldier. I mean, we both come from such different worlds, but I can't help but think it'd be an interesting fight."
Bucky looked at him with a knowing smirk. "I think Steve would be too busy making speeches about the American Dream to actually fight you."
"Yeah, but speeches are only fun for the first ten minutes," Alexei said, then he waved a hand in the air. "Alright, alright, enough about that—let's get down to business. Hydra's not going to kill themselves, after all."
And with that, the team gathered, ready to take down Hydra, but not without Alexei cracking one last dad joke for good measure.
"So, when are we getting the snacks?" he asked, with a wicked grin. "I'm thinking something with a lot of carbs. And a little bit of liquid courage, if you know what I mean."
—
The safehouse was bustling with the sound of laughter, the chaos of children at play filling the otherwise quiet room. Harry, dressed in his usual red-and-gold armor—though without the helmet—strode into the room, his eyes scanning the scene. He could hear Rose's giggles before he saw her, and his heart gave a little flutter when he caught sight of her, sitting on the floor with Tonks, her wild hair bouncing as she threw something—a plush bear, maybe?—in the air, laughing all the while.
Phil Coulson was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, watching the two kids with a fond smile. Billy Koenig was sitting on a nearby couch, playing some kind of game on a tablet, though his attention was clearly half on the kids and half on keeping an eye out for anything that might go awry.
"Harry!" Rose's voice rang out, sharp and clear, cutting through the noise. She turned, her bright eyes locking onto him with an intensity that almost made him stop in his tracks. She was upset, that much was obvious, but the glint of excitement in her gaze—the joy of seeing him again—was stronger than the annoyance she clearly felt.
But it didn't stop her from crossing her arms and glaring at him.
"Where have you been?" she demanded, pouting as she stood up and walked over to him, her little fists clenched at her sides. "You didn't even say goodbye before you left for Bleeker Street. Mom's been worried. Natasha's been worried. And I was worried, too!"
Harry's stomach twisted with guilt. He hadn't meant to leave her without saying goodbye. The world had been a blur of missions, responsibilities, and people pulling him in all directions. But that didn't excuse it.
"I'm sorry, kiddo," Harry said softly, kneeling down to her level. His heart ached at the way she looked at him, as if she'd been abandoned. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I just… I had to go, and everything happened so fast."
Rose's brow furrowed, and she took a step back, her arms still crossed as she gave him a skeptical look. "You didn't even tell me where you were going. You're always going on adventures without me. Don't you trust me? You're always busy with your superhero friends."
"Hey," Harry said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I trust you. And I wasn't trying to go on adventures without you, promise." He looked over at Tonks, who was still in the middle of whatever game they were playing, and then back at his little sister. "But you know how it is. Sometimes, things are a little too dangerous, even for me. It's not that I don't want you around, it's just… I need to make sure you're safe."
Rose seemed to soften a little, but she wasn't done. "Then why didn't you visit? You said you would. You know how much I missed you."
The words stung. Of course, he should have visited. He should have made time for her, no matter what was going on.
"Yeah, you're right," Harry admitted, a small sigh escaping him. "I've been all over the place. But that's no excuse, Rose. I'm sorry for not coming to see you."
Before she could say anything else, a voice broke into their conversation. "It's Harry's fault, isn't it?" Tonks said with an exaggerated pout, her tone dripping with playful mischief as she hopped over to them. "It's always Harry's fault when you're mad. You're like his little sidekick."
Rose shot her a glare, but it didn't hold much weight. Even in her frustration, she couldn't stay mad for long when Tonks was around. Harry took advantage of the distraction, nudging Rose gently with his elbow.
"Tonks is right, you know," he teased. "You've got to be a little more forgiving. What's the fun in being mad all the time, huh?"
Rose narrowed her eyes at him, clearly torn between wanting to stay angry and wanting to forgive him. "I'll think about it," she finally said, her voice softening. She reached up to grab his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her.
"Good enough for me," Harry grinned, ruffling her hair. "But I've got something to tell you, and I need you to keep it between us. It's a secret."
"Ooh! A secret!" Rose's eyes lit up with the kind of excitement only a six-year-old could muster. "What is it?"
Harry leaned in close, lowering his voice dramatically. "I'm going to have to leave again soon. Kamar-Taj needs me. But don't worry—I'll be back before you know it."
Rose's face fell slightly, disappointment flashing in her eyes. She was trying so hard to be brave, but the little girl in her still couldn't quite understand why he had to leave again. She bit her lip for a moment, her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.
"I don't want you to go," she said quietly. "I want you to stay."
"I know, kiddo. I really do. But there are things I have to do. Things I can't ignore. You know how it is." He gave her a small smile, ruffling her hair again. "But we'll make sure you're kept busy, right?"
"Busy with what?" Rose asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Well," Harry grinned, "I think we could get you into some serious training with your own special powers. I bet you'd make an amazing hero one day, you know?"
She blinked up at him, her face scrunching up in thought. "Do you think I could be as cool as you? And maybe make bad jokes like Sirius?"
Harry chuckled at that, shaking his head. "Trust me, kid, no one does bad jokes like Sirius. But yeah, I think you could be a hero. Just like Natasha, just like Mom and Dad. Just like me."
Rose grinned, her expression softening. "I'll be the best one, I promise!"
"That's what I like to hear," Harry said, pulling her into a quick hug. He held her close for a moment, inhaling the scent of her hair, a reminder of just how much he'd missed this. The hug was brief but meaningful, a simple way to reassure her that no matter how far he had to go, she would always be in his heart.
"I'll come back soon, I promise," Harry said, pulling back and looking at her. "But until then, you'll have to be the big sister, okay? Keep everyone safe for me."
Rose nodded, her expression serious for a moment before a mischievous grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Only if you bring me back something shiny from Kamar-Taj. Or maybe a new stuffed animal. You know, for protection."
"Shiny, huh?" Harry smirked. "I think I can manage that. But no promises on the stuffed animal. You're getting too old for those."
"No way!" she protested, making a face. "I'm always going to love stuffed animals. You can't change that."
"I'll take that as a victory," Harry said with a laugh, standing up. He waved at the group in the room, giving them all a nod before his gaze lingered on Rose for a moment longer. "I'll be back, okay? And I'll try not to make it so long next time."
With one last smile, Harry turned to leave, feeling the weight of the mission ahead, but also the warmth of the love that connected him to his family. Even when he was far away, they would always be with him.
—
The safehouse felt quieter now, the familiar hum of activity replaced by the soft sounds of people moving about, preparing for the inevitable goodbye. Harry took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the small group gathered near the door—his family, the ones who had always been there for him, the ones he always returned to.
First, his parents, Lily and James, were standing together near the window, talking quietly. Harry walked up to them, his steps slow but purposeful.
Lily was the first to notice him, her eyes lighting up as she turned toward him.
"Harry," she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She knew as well as he did that these moments of parting were never easy, especially with the uncertainty that came with the world they lived in. "You sure you're ready for this?"
Harry's eyes softened, meeting his mother's gaze with a quiet determination. "Yeah. I'll be okay. It's just... Kamar-Taj, you know? It's important. And I'll be back before you know it. I promise."
James, who had been standing behind Lily, put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a firm, reassuring squeeze. "Just be careful, son. We'll be waiting for you. And don't forget, we can always use a little more of that Gryffindor courage back here."
Harry chuckled, his heart swelling with the familiar warmth of their love and support. "Don't worry, Dad. I've got a whole lot of courage to spare. Besides, it's not like I'm just going to vanish into thin air... actually, wait, I kinda can do that now. Portal magic, you know?"
Lily raised an eyebrow, looking at him skeptically. "Don't use that as an excuse to disappear for weeks on end, Harry."
"I won't, Mum," Harry promised, his voice soft. "I can make portals now, so I'll be around more often, okay? No more long goodbyes."
James grinned. "Good. Because I still have to take you to see a game of Quidditch."
"I know, I know." Harry grinned back, though it faded quickly. "I'll make it up to you, I swear."
With one last squeeze to his shoulder, James nodded and stepped back, letting Lily step forward. She gave him a tight hug, her arms wrapping around him like a lifeline.
"I'll be waiting for you, Harry. Always."
"I know, Mum," Harry murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back slightly, brushing a few stray locks of hair from her face. "I'll come back more often. And I'll bring you something shiny next time."
Lily laughed softly, her eyes glinting with both sadness and love. "You'd better."
Harry then turned his gaze to the other corner of the room, where Sirius was sitting, his arms crossed and his usual smirk in place, though there was a hint of something else in his eyes—a kind of unspoken understanding.
"Ready for this, Padfoot?" Harry asked, his tone light, but it was clear the words carried more weight than the casual question let on.
Sirius shrugged, giving him a half-grin. "As ready as I'll ever be, Prongslet. You know the drill. Just don't get yourself killed or anything. We need you for more family dinners."
Harry smiled back, a small laugh escaping him. "I'll try not to. But if you keep making those terrible jokes, I might just run off to Kamar-Taj for good."
"You wouldn't dare." Sirius raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "You wouldn't last two days without my irresistible charm."
"True," Harry admitted, shaking his head with a playful sigh. "How could I possibly survive without the charm of the infamous Padfoot?"
"Exactly." Sirius clapped him on the shoulder, his expression softening for just a moment. "I'm proud of you, Harry. No matter what happens out there, we'll always have your back."
"I know," Harry said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. He cleared his throat, not wanting to linger too long in the moment. "I'll be back, Sirius. And maybe next time, I won't have to sneak off and disappear without saying goodbye."
Sirius chuckled and patted him on the back one more time. "Just make sure you don't leave without telling us when you're back. And don't go getting all mysterious on us, alright?"
Harry gave him a mock salute. "You got it, old man."
Finally, Harry turned to Natasha, his heart skipping a beat as his gaze met hers. She was standing by the door, arms crossed, her expression unreadable, though the flicker of emotion in her eyes was impossible to miss. She'd been quieter than usual since his sudden departure, and Harry knew that the time they'd spent apart had left its mark on both of them.
"Natasha," Harry said softly, his voice low, unsure of what to say. It was hard to express the things he felt sometimes—especially with the weight of everything pressing down on him. But with her, he didn't need to say much.
She didn't say anything at first, her lips curving into a small, private smile as she stepped closer. Then, without warning, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
Harry froze for a moment, surprised by the suddenness, but then relaxed into her warmth, his arms coming around her instinctively. He buried his face in her hair for a second, breathing in the familiar scent of her—something that always made him feel like he was home.
"I'll be back soon," he murmured into her hair, his voice a whisper against her ear. "I promise. And... I'll make sure it's not as long as last time."
Natasha pulled back just slightly, enough to look him in the eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders. There was a faint smile on her lips, but the look in her eyes was serious, intense. "You better. Or I might just track you down."
Harry chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. "I don't doubt it. You know I'm not exactly hard to find."
Her lips twitched at the corners, but she didn't break eye contact. Then, without warning, she leaned in, her lips capturing his in a quick but meaningful kiss—a reminder of the bond they shared, even when separated.
The kiss lingered for a moment longer than Harry expected, a gentle promise in the way their lips met and parted. As she pulled away, she gave him a final, soft smile.
"Stay safe, Harry. And don't forget, portals or not... I'll be waiting for you."
"Same here," he said, his voice soft but firm. "I'll be back. I'll make sure of it."
With one last lingering look, Harry stepped back, taking a deep breath. He looked at the family that had always been his foundation, his heart swelling with gratitude. He could do this—he could face whatever came next, because he knew they were all waiting for him.
"See you all soon," he said, his voice carrying the weight of the promise he intended to keep.
And with that, Harry walked to the door, his heart lighter than it had been in a while, knowing that no matter where his adventures took him, he'd always have a place to come back to.
He opened a portal with a flick of his hand, stepping through it with a final glance back, knowing this goodbye wasn't forever. It never would be.
—
Once the last of the goodbyes had been exchanged, and Harry had disappeared through the portal, the room fell into a quiet that stretched a little longer than it should have. The air hung heavy with the things unsaid, and the atmosphere felt almost too calm. Alexei Shostakov, who had been standing just off to the side, watching the whole scene like a hawk, could only shake his head with a quiet laugh.
"Ah, Natasha," he muttered to himself. "I see what's going on here."
A wide grin spread across his face, and he couldn't help himself—he needed to poke the bear. He stepped forward, his boots clicking on the floor as he made his way to his daughter, who was standing just a little too still for his liking. Her back was slightly turned, but her posture told him everything. She wasn't fooling anyone. Not him, anyway.
"Well, well, well," Alexei began, his voice deep with that classic fatherly Russian accent that could make any conversation sound like a heavy drama, even if it was about something as trivial as ketchup. "My little Natasha, all grown up. Kissing men goodbye, huh? I never thought I'd see the day. This is a big moment, I must say."
Natasha snapped around to face him, eyes narrowing. "Oh, God. Not you."
"Ah, yes, the kiss goodbye." Alexei sighed, as though deeply moved by the significance of the moment. "Such passion. Such intensity. I might have to call my old buddy at the Russian Ministry of Love to report this," he teased, hands going to his hips in a mock serious pose. "It's a very serious thing, Natasha. Maybe I should get him to sign off on your relationship, make sure you're both legally allowed to kiss each other like that."
Natasha rolled her eyes, arms folding across her chest. "You're ridiculous, Alexei."
Alexei grinned wider, clearly undeterred. "What? Can't a father be proud? I mean, I never thought I'd see you get kissed by a guy like that. He seems like a... real charmer." His eyes twinkled mischievously, and he wagged a finger in the air. "I'll have to keep an eye on him, make sure he knows how to treat my little girl right. We'll see if he's worthy of the Shostakov seal of approval."
"You're insufferable," Natasha muttered, but there was a faint smile on her lips despite herself. It was the same smile that came out whenever her dad poked fun at her—half embarrassed, half amused.
"Oh, I'm insufferable?" Alexei asked, his voice rising in mock offense. "Do you know who else was insufferable? Every father who ever had to watch his little girl grow up and get kissed by a boy! You think this is easy for me?!" He held his hand to his chest in an exaggerated show of pain. "No, Natasha, this is the hardest thing a father must do. He's stealing you from me! First, it's the kiss. Next thing you know, he'll be stealing your heart! What's next, huh? A wedding? You want to bring him home for Thanksgiving dinner? I need to start preparing my speech. You'll always be my little girl, even if you marry Harry and live in some magical land."
"Stop it, Alexei," Natasha groaned, her face reddening. "It's not a big deal. It was just a kiss."
"A kiss, eh?" Alexei raised an eyebrow. "So that's how it starts. First, it's 'just a kiss,' and then you wake up one day and find yourself in love with him, giving him your heart, your soul—your sandwich in the fridge!" He paused dramatically. "I swear, I'll have to start hiding my food from him."
"You're so embarrassing," Natasha said, though she was fighting a grin. She could never fully stay mad at him. Not when he was so extra about everything.
Alexei clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "I just want to make sure the boy knows what he's getting into. I've been there. Back in the day, I used to tell jokes to win hearts. But those jokes? Not recommended for a first date." He winked and muttered to himself, "Knock, knock. Who's there? Russian dad who's never leaving you alone."
Natasha groaned, her face contorting with a blend of affection and exasperation. "Alexei, please—don't tell me any more of your dad jokes. You're a grown man. You're supposed to be mature."
"Look, honey," Alexei said, his tone shifting slightly to something a bit more sincere, but still full of that classic dad-ness. "You know I only want the best for you, right? You deserve someone who will fight for you, who will make you laugh and keep you safe, all at once. So, you think Harry's that guy?"
Natasha paused for a moment, and despite herself, her heart gave a little flutter at the thought of Harry. She wasn't going to admit that to her dad, though. "I think Harry's... complicated," she said instead. "But I'll figure it out. I always do."
Alexei gave her a soft smile, the playful glint in his eye giving way to something a little warmer. "You do. You always do. But just know this—if he ever crosses you, I'll be there. Like a bad cold that won't go away." He paused, thinking for a second. "Maybe I need to get a new catchphrase... Papa Shostakov is always watching. Nah, that's too creepy. Never mind. But you get my point, right?"
Natasha rolled her eyes again, but now, there was something genuine in her smile. "Thanks, Dad. I'll keep that in mind."
Alexei nodded, looking pleased with himself. "You're welcome. Just make sure you invite me to the wedding, alright? I'll bring the vodka and tell the groom embarrassing stories about you."
"Absolutely not," Natasha said, shaking her head but laughing. "Not a chance."
"Well, if you change your mind," Alexei said, winking, "I'll be here with the best bad dad jokes and some truly excellent wedding gifts. I've been saving up for this moment my whole life."
She sighed, but there was no hiding the affection in her voice. "You're impossible."
"And don't you forget it," Alexei replied, slapping her on the back with a hearty chuckle. "Now, go ahead and chase your boy. Just don't let him off the hook too easily."
With that, Natasha couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head in exasperation. Alexei may have been a lot to deal with, but when it came down to it, he was the closest thing she had to a dad—and no one else could make her laugh quite like him.
—
The air was heavy with the kind of anticipation that only a mission like this could bring. The dimly lit room at a secluded, non-descript British airstrip was a far cry from the grandiosity of the Ministry of Magic, yet it felt much more real, more immediate. Inside, two figures were preparing to leave British soil. One, a man who appeared in his 40s despite the weight of centuries on his shoulders, and the other, a grizzled veteran whose motto was, quite literally, "Constant Vigilance."
Gideon Adler—who, for the sake of a more normal life, went by the name of "Adler"—stood near the edge of the tarmac, surveying the SHIELD-owned cargo plane that would be taking them to the safehouse in New York. The plane was large, practical, and decidedly unassuming. No glittering Ministry symbols or elaborate charms. Just a solid piece of technology designed for efficiency and, in this case, secrecy. It was the kind of thing that would get the job done. No more, no less.
Adler adjusted the collar of his dark, tailored coat, running a hand through his prematurely salt-and-pepper hair, a remnant of his true age that no amount of the Infinity Formula could reverse. His appearance may have been younger, but his eyes—his eyes carried centuries of wisdom, cunning, and a past he preferred to forget. Despite his best efforts to live a different life, there were still those whispers of his former self that lingered like a shadow in the back of his mind.
"Ready, Alastor?" Adler asked, his voice deep and measured. There was a quiet certainty to his words, a weight of authority that made it clear he wasn't just asking to pass the time. He was getting to the heart of things.
Alastor Moody, who was busy inspecting the cargo plane with the same meticulous attention he'd given to everything in his long career, turned his one good eye on the man. The other, hidden beneath the magical enchantment he used to shield his magical eye, scanned the perimeter, catching every movement and anomaly with unnerving precision.
"Always ready," Moody grunted, tightening his grip on his wooden staff. "Just don't ask me to trust any bloody Portkey the Ministry's cooked up. That lot's only good for sending people into the wrong place at the wrong time." His tone was rough, his voice a gravelly growl, but the undertones were something more—fear, perhaps, or just the frustration of a man who's seen too much go wrong to ever let his guard down.
"SHIELD's tech is solid. You'll appreciate it," Adler said, the faintest of smirks tugging at the corners of his lips. He'd been around for too long to miss the depth of Moody's distrust when it came to Ministry-sanctioned methods. The man had the wisdom of a battle-hardened warrior who knew, better than most, how to survive the treachery that could come from within.
Moody grunted in approval at the SHIELD plane. "Better bloody be. I've had enough of those Ministry messes. Once you're in, you're in, and their Portkeys have a tendency to drop you off in the middle of nowhere. Not the best situation if you're fighting off an ambush. This," Moody glanced at the cargo plane again, narrowing his one good eye as he scanned the landing gear and wings, "looks like it'll get the job done. No surprise at the end of the bloody trip. None of this 'wrong destination' nonsense."
Adler gave him a knowing look. "You're a man who values control."
"You damn right I do," Moody replied, his voice gruff but with an edge of pride. "Constant vigilance means having a plan. And Portkeys... Portkeys don't give you a plan. They just throw you somewhere. No thanks."
"Then let's get you on board before you start taking apart the engines to make sure we're not being followed," Adler quipped lightly, his tone a little warmer now. Moody's paranoia was legendary, but it had saved both their lives more times than either of them cared to count.
As they moved toward the plane, Adler's thoughts turned inward for a moment. He hadn't trusted the Ministry in years, not even when he was still among them. His former name still haunted him like an old ghost, a weight on his conscience that could never truly be shed. The fact that he was now working with a former Auror like Moody, a man who represented everything the Ministry was supposed to stand for, spoke volumes. Yet, there was something Adler had never told Moody—not about his past, not about the life he'd left behind.
"Are you sure you can handle this?" Moody's voice broke Adler out of his reverie, though it wasn't a question of capability. Moody trusted him, at least to the extent that Adler had proven useful to their joint cause—dealing with Hydra-allied wizards, those who had infiltrated the magical world and aligned themselves with dark forces that stretched far beyond simple politics.
"I've handled far worse," Adler replied, his voice steady. He gave Moody a glance before climbing up into the plane, his posture that of a man who had lived many lives, but who was still fighting for something, even if he couldn't always define it. "And you? You're as stubborn as ever, I see."
Moody snorted, stepping up behind Adler. "Don't mistake stubborn for good sense. But I've been doing this long enough to know when I've got a good partner. Besides," he added, grinning with a sharp edge in his voice, "I like to keep an eye on everyone. Even if that means watching someone who used to be a bloody legend."
Adler raised an eyebrow, half-amused and half-patient. "You think you're the only one with secrets, Alastor?"
Moody's eyes narrowed, and he didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gave a low chuckle that didn't quite reach his eye. "We'll see, won't we, Adler? We'll see."
The cargo door of the plane rumbled shut behind them, and the engines began to hum to life, cutting through the tension with the promise of flight. Moody and Adler took their seats as the plane began its journey from British soil to the safety of SHIELD's New York headquarters, unaware of how their lives would change the moment they arrived.
But for now, the air between them was filled with that unsaid understanding—the shared knowledge that, regardless of how many secrets were buried beneath layers of magic and time, they were in this together. And sometimes, that was all that mattered.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
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