---

---

---

After the entire mess with Arcade, our intrepid heroes had a much deserved break - a break that went better for some than for others. But no matter the reason, the students of the Margaret Carter Institute returned to Los Angeles before the first bell on the Monday after Thanksgiving break. While most students went off to attend their various classes, such as advanced physics or spaceship piloting lessons or beginner Kree, the qualifying teams for the Contest of Champions were asked to report to Headmaster Coulson's office instead (minus the Young Avengers).

... For somewhat obvious reasons, of course. Of the four teams, one of them no longer had a coach, and was also down a member with Arcade's arrest. Three of the teams were potentially traumatized as well, with only the Young Avengers unaffected by the entire mess for the most part. It wasn't even guaranteed that everyone on the three affected teams would still want to participate in the Contest, after what had happened with the Framework.

One by one, students would file into Coulson's office. There wasn't really enough room for everyone to sit down - Coulson was at his desk chair, Ser Nemo and Lady Nimue at his side, and there were three chairs pulled out in front of the desk for students to use. Gideon Muir immediately flopped into one - she was wearing sunglasses, despite being indoors. ("I have a light sensitivity, assholes," she had grouched the last time someone asked her about it.)

@Forsythe: Vicky would receive a text from Cassie that morning, asking if she would be free to talk after classes that day.

---

---

After a relatively uneventful and peaceful break, filled with the usual family traditions and plenty of time for reading, Percy had returned to an empty dorm room. Teddy had finally withdrawn formally from the Margaret Carter Institute. He had been emailed a notice that a new roommate would be placed with him at the beginning of the spring semester - but for now, the room was his and his alone. It was nice and quiet, and once he had finished thoroughly disinfecting Teddy's side of the room, Percy had allowed himself to reorganize and redecorate some.

He hoped that Dorian would appreciate it.

Despite his texting habits - or lack thereof - Percy had missed his boyfriend over the break. He had done his best to respond to Dorian at least once a day. For the most part, he had been able to meet this goal, replying to messages within 24 hours, sometimes within 12. And while he had been told that he texted like an old man, Percy did his best to try to keep his texts interesting - even sending Dorian photographs of highlighted passages in the books he read.

None of that replaced the real thing, however. Percy's moms had dropped him and Diana back off at campus late the previous evening - the West Coast Avengers' quarters was just around the quarter - so he hadn't been able to see his boyfriend properly yet. A fact that needed to be remedied, much more urgently than whatever Headmaster Coulson had to say about the events with Arcade. As far as Percy was concerned, the likelihood they would be punished was rather low. If anything, breaking into the Framework for extra training ought to be the sort of initiative valued in a hero.

So as soon as it was a reasonable hour, Percy knocked thrice on Danni and Dorian's door, and he waited. Coulson be damned.

---

---

---

It had been strange, going back to Washington D.C. after everything that had happened. April's room back home felt so incredibly empty, without her besties or her girlfriends. Somehow, it had felt even more uncomfortable than the tense quinjet ride back with her parents, when her mother insisted on examining her and Zelda's vitals at least a dozen times. And no matter how much April threw herself into little projects - she made about a dozen pairs of crocheted gloves - she hadn't been able to really relax, to sleep. She'd suffered from extreme insomnia, practically glued to her phone as she texted everyone in her life back too quickly, too rapidly - as she consumed hours upon hours of content - as she spent more time in the family pool than anywhere else, shaping the bitter winter water over and over again.

But even now, back in Los Angeles, back in a place that felt more like home than anything else - April still felt strange. The clothes on her body seemed to almost itch - no, not the clothes, it was her skin. It was like her skin didn't fit quite right. And as she breathed, the air tasted off - so subtle as to almost be imagined, but real enough that she was sure. And as people spoke to her, their voices had distance to them, a soft echo almost like static.

Had Arcade done something to her in the Framework? Or was she losing her mind?

She waited for Mads to be ready before heading over with her to Coulson's office, sending out a flurry of texts as she went -





"Oh, I haaaate this..." April whined, as she and Mads approached the last hallway to take them to Coulson's office. "If I get kicked out of school, my parents are going to kill me - find a way to raise me from the dead - and then kill me again. And then I'll never be able to win the Contest of Champions, become president of the school, and be scouted by the Avengers and have Namor beg me to join to help him save the fucking ocean."

---

Leah was not in a good position, right. She was in an okay state, but a bad place.

Ordinarily, she would've just hid in her dorm at the school, barricaded behind all the usual security measures the place had, while hiding underground in the gym where the building could be modified every which way. If these were normal circumstances, she'd just stay like that, entombed in a subterranean environment she'd eventually unmake, for everyone's protection in case dear old dad decided that this would be the day he stopped playing the long game. She had it worked down to a science by now, exactly 15 feet in every direction, 30 feet below the floor and at the furthest left corner from the front doors. Last year, she tried the right but found it a bit inconvenient during Christmas break because couldn't hear jets landing as easily. But alas, this wasn't normal circumstances.

Instead, she was sitting on a bed in She-Hulk's apartment, distracting herself with a playlist she could barely hear through the earbuds used. It was two in the morning, and she just sat there, staring at the door like the Winged Menace himself was just around the corner. They never celebrated Thanksgiving, dad didn't care for it and mom wasn't able to eat that much anyway. They didn't really do holidays in general, unless it was dad leaving for a business trip around December. But the funny thing was that everyone else did, and of course they'd all be off with their families during such a time. The ones they still had.

Leah hated these kinds of things, because it reminded her that she could've actually had something like that if her dad wasn't some fucking international supervillain. If he hadn't shot mom right in front of his daughter, or even if they lived in some twisted world where dad was actually proud of Leah for surviving his "guidance," as he'd put it.

She didn't want to be here, in this woman's home where he could crash in at any second much easier than the school. Anyone else who tried that would be stupid, but dad wasn't stupid. He was smarter than most people, stronger than them, more skilled than them, and he knew where she was. The better option, strategically, as the mansion that She-Hulk had gave her access to, but she was not going there. They'd ask questions about where she came from, because She-Hulk definitely wasn't going to keep that to herself, and Leah doubted that saying they stood a chance against him was anything other than optimistic. He'd probably take Vision to pieces, or kill Hawkeye with his own damn weapons to make it harder on himself, just to say he could.

She was tired, but she was fine enough to deal. Over the break, April wouldn't shut up, and she actually loved that for her. Whenever April texted her in particular, she'd just send something simple back to not to stop April's stream of consciousness. Yeah. I'm alive, or Apparently She-Hulk is my parent now. She was just glad that April was thinking of her, it felt nice. But beyond that, she didn't really initiate conversations. She didn't feel like it, because there was always something in the back of her mind that made this whole mess demand her attention.

"I wish you'd just come out already," Leah whispered. "So I can fucking kill you again."

No one manifested from the darkness, no one popped out and held a gun to her forehead.

"You've waited long enough, haven't you? You know where I am, or did you always know? You could've killed everyone around me to isolate me, but you didn't... So come out already and I'll make it quick. Or maybe I'll make it slower than what you did to mom. You'd deserve that..."

She blinked, slowly.

"You always told me I was a mutant, like you. But you couldn't even be straight with me about that? You stuck machines in me, and I've got fucking magic in my spine or something. That was you. And- I'm wondering just how fucking free of you I really fucking am, you piece of shit."

Leah fell back against the bed, staring up at a dark ceiling. She'd been staying up like this for days, now. "I'd been telling myself you were dead for long enough that I thought I'd get to live. Then she tells me you're not dead- I confessed to her and then she made a move on me. They- You- Fuck you. Come out and fucking fight me if you want. I'll... Kill you. Again." An irrational side of her brain, the parts she hated the most on some days, told her that if she fells asleep now, she might not wake up. But another part was taking over, deciding to knock her out.

After many, many hours straight without rest, she passed out.

---

Leah didn't stay at the apartment long enough for She-Hulk to do or say anything parental. None of that "have fun at school" shit or any nonsense about staying here long-term. She just grabbed her things and walked out the front door, deciding to walk to get rid of the nervous energy she was trying to endure. And just in case She-Hulk (She wasn't about to use the woman's real name, they weren't familiar enough) wanted to say otherwise, Leah stuck her earbuds in and cranked the volume.

She walked all the way through Los Angeles, she was familiar enough with the layout of the city from flying on rocks that she got there in about as much time as anyone else could in a car or on a bus. She wore her usual modified version of the school's uniform, the one made to actually last a while with her hair, under her old jacket that really clashed with the aesthetic. Not that she cared about that part.

Leah got to the school itself and then pulled out her phone, walking as she did and not trying too hard to avoid running into someone. Usually, she was a big and stout enough individual that people got out of the way.



Minutes later, she turned down the hallway, and walked down it, seeing April there with her friend. Mads tried helping her with the whole magic-machine-bullshit spine thing once, so they were at least cool. Leah looked a bit rough, like she also hadn't been sleeping. But she looked practically bulletproof on most days. Today was the same.

"Hey." She bent down to April's height and kissed her on the forehead. "Bine here yet?"

---

---

---

Unlike most others, Victoria has not gone home. In her head, she was calling staying at the school 'Jordaning it out'. Ironic, since Leah has actually gone away, although if Vicky could tell, she did not look as happy as someone who was given a new place to stay when she was leaving for the break. Probably something to do with having to leave her fortress, Vicky thought. And if someone could physically prevent her from coming back on her own volition, a hulk probably qualified.

Unfortunately, there was no time to handle the problems of others. The android had more than enough problems of her own. Vicky has looked up available psychiatrists in the area and found someone who actually had a free slot on such a short notice. Initially, she even felt like a responsible member of society, coming to terms that she had a mental health issue and taking steps to solve it. But, of course, nothing with her was ever so simple.

It didn't help. A week has gone by, she had a session every day and nothing to show for it. The doctor mentioned that it may be a futile effort since she wasn't human and noone could guarantee the same approach that worked for them would work on her. And not only that, but something that had loomed over her ever since she was active took on a new, dark presence in her mind. Her purpose. Vicky thought that she has wanted to do this. That it was her choice, even if she was meant to do this by her creators. And even though she was never sure of it, she was kind of okay with the possibility that that drive was actually hard-coded into her being.

Now though, she was given a mirror of what she could become in this line of work. That her system was very much vulnerable, albeit under some rather extremely convenient circumstances. And for the first time, she doubted whether this was the best course of action. Perhaps she could do the most good for humans by not actively searching for people who could turn her into another Ultron? And what did she do first with that doubt? Rather than weighing the pros and cons of staying the course or abandoning the superhero path, as logic would dictate, she ran to a psychologist doing her best to remove what she considered an obstacle in her purpose. And for the first time it bugged her: Was that her choice, or was that a program telling her to get back in line? Was she actually free to choose?

And that was only part of it. What has happened to her as of late? Vicky has split her days into three parts. Visit the doctor in the morning, train in the afternoon, and tinker in the evening. And during the last part, she has reviewed her previous plans, and was appalled at her priorities. What the hell? I have started everything I could think of and what have I actually finished? What do we have here? Making the armor more streamlined: Barely an idea. Miniaturizing the MFG? Concept drawings. Repairing my internal antenna? Not. Even. A. Thought. There was even talk of coming up with something to help Diana teleport in one piece, what happened to that, huh? And Leah's implant? You are some friend, van Dyne. Absolute mess!

Vicky forbid herself from starting anything new until she either made tangible progress on anything on that list, or decided to abandon that idea. Which turned out to be easy, since she did not want to repair her antenna until she analyzed how Edward took such a firm grip of her, and streamlining the armor went into the garbage bin immediately as that was far too big of a project than she presently had resources for. Those mini-MFG though? Those required some more attention.

Now though, it was new week, and she has received summons to the headmaster's office. No doubt something concerning the contest. Which can crash and burn as far as I care. On her way there, she replied to Cassandra:


As she arrived by the hedmaster's office, she noted a couple of familiar faces there already. "Mornin'." Vicky greeted everyone yet noone in particular, leaning on the wall, giving the present company a once-over:

Ew. Get a room.
Oh, wow. 'My body has been through some changes recently'.
Well you look... Worse off than I am. Broke a nail or somehing?

She decided to stop before she blurted something out loud.