FUTURE・FOUNDATION

It was a good thing he did, too. Clint shared a warm smile with Reed, resisting the urge to seek contact as they wandered the blocks toward the Baxter Building, and he settled for letting their shoulders gently brush as they walked closely huddled, Lucky happily trotting in the lead. If he’d properly uprooted himself and gone back home proper, got settled back into simple life without fighting and all the avenging crap, he’d of missed out on this chance.

With a soft grin Clint suggested, “I should take us all on a vacation sometime to my home back in Iowa. S’big property, no one either side for a few miles. It’s really nice.” 

Not to mention Natasha and Coulson had helped him scrub out any records of it being owned by him. Not even SHIELD knew unless they actively tailed him. It’d be a great place to go and escape for a while without any of the media scrutiny or hogwash that tended to happen in NYC. 

Hearing Reed talk so animatedly about the building had Clint’s heart doing a strange little skip-step beat, settling into a warm thrum that filled his being in a way that he hadn’t felt for so long after Bruce… 

Soon they were standing near the grandiose building itself in it’s restored glory. Lucky, as gracefully as any one-eyed overexcited dog could, ecstatically made for the elegant doorway despite still being attached to a lead, which was attached to a thankfully stretchy man. Clint laughed brightly at the spectacle, not caring that it hurt a little more to hobble that bit faster to keep up as they crossed the last little leg to make it to the doors himself. 

"Lucky!" He chided when he caught up, though there was arguably not a lot of bite if any at all in his tone. "You’re just a big excitable puppy sometimes I swear, geeze." 

The labrador wuffed happily, tail swishing from side to side along the ground as someone approached the doors and pulled one open courteously, something that had Clint blink in surprise — of course a building like the Baxter Building would have a doorman to vigilantly see to the attendants coming and going, given how public and well known the Fantastic Four were, but it still came as a surprise. 

"Nice t’meet you," Clint drawled, extending a hand to Jimmy whom accepted it with his gloved one firmly. "Looks like someone else is happy to see you too." 

Jimmy huffed a laugh at that. Lucky was busy trying to butt his head into the man’s leg except he was somewhat stuck in place because he’d tangled his lead all around Reed’s legs. Clint hooked his cane over his arm to free up both hands and unclasped the lead, which let Lucky fulfil his wish of saying hello to the friendly man and then excitedly trot inside. 

More importantly it meant there was 100% less dog on the lead trying to make it more of a mess, which meant Clint was able to just pull it free from Reed’s legs. 

The pair went inside, Jimmy closing and securing the door behind them as they made for the elevator. Clint found himself rather awestruck by the gilded gorgeous work, of which even without the world being in colour for him was practically sparkling gold in his minds eye.

He didn’t have a chance to voice that however, when Lucky made his dash towards the door. Thankfully Clint got the excitable canine unclipped from the leash and the archer could pull free the nylon lead from where it had entangled his legs. He could have stretched out but it would have left him in a state of undress he’d rather not be in, inside the foyer of the Baxter Building. Thankfully, Jimmy was welcoming of Lucky’s attempt to lick him to death, which gave Reed time to fiddle with his shirt and jacket. The dog was quick to settle after his initial excitement, coming to heel by Clint’s side.

The three of them stepped inside the elevator, Clint letting out an appreciative whistle. Even without colour correction lenses, the gold would be visible, as well as the prisms and sharp lines that made up the golf leaf panelling and warm cherry inlay on the floor of the elevator car.

Reed blushed at the compliment. While he was no painter, he loved to build and make things; from forging his own tools, to sewing, to even painstakingly cutting out individual block pieces of wood and metal to fit seamlessly together to form the art deco panels and buttresses of the building.

“I see the appeal of function and form that Stark has going, but there’s something about making something beautiful. And not forgetting what came before.”

Maybe it was a subtle jab at the futurist movement, but forgetting the past tended to make people repeat mistakes.

Stark had a brand name to maintain and a company bottom-line to adhere to, but Reed had no such constraints. His income lay in patents and inventing so he could leave himself free to pursue his own desire and style.

“It’s been actually very therapeutic, working on the Baxter Building. I had to make a lot of adjustments but part of the fun was making it work with the original layout, not just starting from scratch.”

The elevator dinged that it had reached the ground floor of the penthouse, far quicker than a normal car should have.

“Fast track elevators. Because some of us can’t fly out the window.” 

He rolled his eyes at that. No need to mention who he was referring to.

"And re-enforced; it would take..a cataclysmic event for that cable to snap and then several dozen failsafes would come into play; a few of which I am pushing city code to adopt.”

This was his home. His families home; counting the current company as well. He would make it the safest place in the world; was striving for that.

The ground floor was a mix of dark wood, metal and tall, storey height windows, lending the area to be filled with light. It was hardly a minimalist, unified design; the various pieces of furniture suggesting everyone had a hand in picking what to fill the space with. 

Clint glanced down at the tiles, and tapped the cane, making a quizzical face at the unusual sound the material made, before inclining his head to one side, as if he was puzzling out something.

Reed shyly scratched at his hair.

“It’s er…heat proofed ceramic. Since my brother in law doesn’t flame off all the time. I might have gotten a bit carried away when I was doing the decorative panels and cut the tiles into a fibonacci spiral.”

She knew how important Clint was to Reed, and by extension to her as well. That they possibly would be seeing him into their lives more permanently excited her. 

Sue neatly closed the cover of her tablet that she'd been using to read a book on and set it on her desk, rising out of her chair with a grand stretch that got rid of all the kinks in her spine. Soft paws padding across the floor alerted her to the third arrival of the building, and Lucky excitedly skittered toward her, only holding back the bark that almost surfaced when she shushed him softly. Lucky obediently sat before her, tail twitching as he tried to keep it still and not betray his eagerness.

Bless.

"Hey there handsome fellow," Sue whispered, crouching to rub his soft jowls and kiss his nose, her voice growing soppier the longer she talked to the precious labrador. "I've missed you too. You shepherded those silly flustered men here for me did you?" 

Lucky burbled and rumbled a reply that was muffled against her hands, rubbing his soft fur all over her and giving her fingers little kisses. Sue laughed quietly and smooched the crown of his head. "Good boy. Good boy. I'll make sure you get treats later." 

The voices of Reed and Clint had drifted a little further away, which meant that Reed likely was getting consumed in talking about all the work he'd put into the restoration of the Baxter Building. There was no point in denying how proud he was because he practically glowed with it any time someone brought up the restoration, and Susan was glad for it because it'd helped get him better rehabilitated after his injury -- as had her return from negotiations beneath the waves with societies yet unknown to the rest of the world outside of her discoveries. It'd been horrifying to see first-hand what Clint had described over the phone to her when he'd called out of desperation, his own upset at the botched mission more than apparent, but she'd taken his disability in stride and catered the world around them to his needs. 

The horror of Doom resurfacing and blowing up the place they'd been temporarily calling home had put a bit of a spanner in the works there. Finding out that their best friend, and Reed's trusted confidant while she'd been away on business, had almost been killed, jammed an even larger one into it all.

It'd meant though that the Baxter Building project got pushed ahead full steam. Reed took charge and drove himself into it head-first to drown out the stress, and Sue let him because the catharsis helped, and it'd been fortified ten-fold so that nothing bad could ever happen to the people who inhabited it so long as they were protected by it's walls. 

Lucky pawed at her knee, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

"Mn, I probably should make sure Clint doesn't get his ear talked off, huh?" 

Ruffling his ears for good measure, Susan rose up and slunk out toward the atrium of the 'penthouse' ground floor, a warm smile curling her lips as she spotted them through toward the large kitchen and dining area, Reed animatedly gesticulating his words. Clint noticed her first, though he didn't say anything -- the slight inclination of his head to either see her in the reflection of the stainless steel fridge or hear her footfalls wasn't missed by her, but Reed was 'in the zone'. 

Which meant as she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and gave him a smooch on the back of the neck he made the most flustered little noise. 

"Are you being a big nerd about your handiwork again?" Sue teased gently, squeezing his waist. "You'll talk his ear off."

Clint chuckled deeply at that. Sue freed one arm and (gently) pulled it about his waist as well, nestling in between her men as steered them from the kitchen out toward the lounge room, eying off the nice comfy huge couch they had as a possible nest for them to all sit on. Lucky had already padded out by it, flopped contentedly on one side at the foot of it, like he'd sensed her destination. 

Clint settled in first, Sue taking his cane to set on the coffee table where it couldn't get knocked over by Lucky should the dog wander off. She smiled sweetly to him and sat down by him, lacing her fingers over his worn knuckles. 

Ensemble “Blue Blood”

Historically inspired couture ensemble, made from soft black leather and intense blue lamé. This outfit consists of an S curve underbust corset, matching bra, a fishtail skirt and leather bolero jacket.All items feature custom-designed lasercut motifs, carefully arranged to follow the curves of the body and match up at the seams.

The bolero jacket is also decorated with quilting around the collar and hems.

It was short lived, though. 

He remembered the first time Susan Richards had spent the night at the Mansion.

JARVIS had been the one to warn him. Saying that he didn’t mind it at all wouldn’t be exactly accurate; Stark’d much rather if someone had thought to inform him. On the other hand, he didn’t like to pull the landlord card unless he was joking, and he liked the fact that the residents felt so much at home. That was the whole purpose of the Mansion. Susan Richards wasn’t a threat anyways (well… not the formal, bad-guy definition of threat). Not to mention that, given the circumstances – this had happened not too long after the accident that had claimed Reed’s arm – her husband could probably use her company.

So, Stark patiently waited for the word from Reed or Susan, giving him a heads up that she would move in for good.

The word hadn’t come yet.

It wasn’t like Stark spent his days being consumed by the situation, but it was a notable source of annoyance that struck a chord in him every three or four days, usually after he’d just woken up and JARVIS filled him in about the date, temperature and any important occurrences. That was when Stark would ask if Susan was still there, and then JARVIS would say ‘yes,’ maybe provide him with footage of her randomly disappearing while walking down a corridor. Positively creepy. Part of him thought she did that sort of thing to scare him because she knew he was always watching, but maybe he was just being paranoid. He literally didn’t even know anymore. All he knew was that Susan Richards had pretty much moved in and not a soul had bothered to tell him.

It wasn’t a problem considering the specifics, but if you are Tony Stark, you would obviously be already fussing over alternate scenarios in which an Avenger goes and picks up a stray animal from the street and never asks permission to keep it, and it turns out that the tiny kitty is rigged to blow and/or is being tracked by a terrorist organization. Or something.

Point was, people needed to tell him shit. Even if his systems kept him apprised. How the heck was he supposed to trust actual human beings if actual human beings were keeping things from him?

This was one of those moments when the thought and the annoyance hit him hard enough to make him mumble to himself. He had woken up from a nightmare less than an hour ago, so he was still in a mood. It didn’t help that it was December 14th, which meant that in three days he’d have to put on a suit and look nice and presentable during the annual church service hosted in his parents’ honor. It also didn’t help that it was almost Christmas and the media world would freak out when he didn’t attend the Maria Stark Foundation Christmas function, so he’d have to deal with the backlash of that and with how the world at large would be thinking he was hiding because he was growing tentacles or something. And finally, SHIELD had just given a heads up about a mission that would involve him wearing a suit and preferably not looking like a hermit. All of that, lumped with the general annoyance that it was to open magazines to find that “My name is Tony Stark and I’m not afraid of you” had been the Tony Stark quote of the year even though he was very, extremely ready for the memory of that whole speech to just die already.

This was ridiculous. You could make the argument that it was okay not to be in control of probability and every possible way to save a person, but Stark had no control over his sleeping patterns, or his drinking, not even his body sometimes. He sure as hell had no control over his public image anymore. And damn it, he obviously had no semblance of control over this Mansion either. He was reminded of that last part when he glanced at the screen showing live security feed from the house, and caught the moment when Susan disappeared in the living room.

That was the day where he decided to climb up the stairs and do something about it.

Meaning he walked into the living room, grabbed one of the magazines that were on top of the center table, and threw himself on one of the couches. If he paid attention, he could catch the way the cushion of the armchair in the corner gave in under Susan’s invisible weight. Stark waited. He put his feet up and laid down, head supported by the armrest. He opened the magazine, to his utter annoyance, to a page featuring the news of Susan’s return to New York after her sabbatical. She looked stunning, of course. Stark waited more. Patiently. For full fifteen seconds.

So Susan was hardly some interloper, it was just they hadn’t formally crossed paths. 

“I thought you were used to me ignoring you, Tony. Then again that hardly stopped you from being such a big flirt at that gala a number of years ago, even with Reed just about rubber-banding himself around you to drag you away,” she responded calmly, head titling to the side somewhat as she became visible with a soft ripple of light, perched atop the coffee table with her legs neatly crossed at the knee. It was only then that she offered a proper, warm smile in his direction knowing he’d be able to see it. “I would’ve honestly come to you first if the shock of finding out what happened to…”

Her smile barely faltered, eyes flicking somewhat downcast before she regained composure completely. "I'm sure you know already -- I suspect JARVIS helps you keep an eye on everything in the mansion just about." 

She'd be lying if she said that was a hazarded guess; Tony was an eccentric in his own rights, but like many people of his calibre -- though few there were -- he too had his own patterns and safety nets. If he couldn't have his eyes on things directly to keep on top of proceedings, he would employ someone's help discreetly. It just helped that his mansion happened to be governed over by a polite yet sassy artificial intelligence that was on the engineer's level.

She'd taken to slinking about for the most part cloaked because of it. 

"No bets, I promise. I might be née Storm but I try to not stoop to my brother's level. Though if he were here he'd probably of tried to set fire to as many things as he could've before you'd notice," Sue added with a teasing lilt, before turning it into a precision strike on the billionaire in-front of her. "Though with how well you've been hiding he might've made it through most of the mansion." 

A bit cutting, yes, but Susan Richards was hardly one to beat around the bush, or in another way of speaking: 'ignore the elephant in the room'. It wasn't as if she'd actively avoided Tony, he'd been the one that was impossible to find. JARVIS seemed to point her in every direction asides from Tony's location, something she suspected he was asked to do for some reason -- being married to a fellow science hermit complete with neurotic AI it'd hardly surprised her -- and when the man could be pinpointed it was in one of his laboratories. Of which had a biometric lock, which meant she couldn't get in, and he was usually too deep into a project to even be seen from the reinforced glass panes and would be conveniently ignoring JARVIS pinging him with the information he had a visitor. With Reed's health as it was she was hardly able to simply wait patiently for Tony to rear his head and appear, so she'd often just gone back to taking care of her husband, or catching up with other residents of the mansion if she crossed their paths. 

Turned out that today seemed to be the fated day she'd cross paths with Tony good and proper. Something that also likely had happened as a result of him pulling the strings.

The man was very good at that and if he could make it happen he would. 

Sue held her hand out and lifted the magazine from Tony's lap up with an invisible field, pulling it over toward herself with a creased brow as she caught sight of the main headline about her being back in New York but living up to her name -- 'but here are some shots of the Baxter Beauty herself fresh off of her flight' -- before it was casually lopped back onto the pile of equally trashy celeb-gossip mags. She rose up and sauntered over to the armchair, balancing her hip on the edge of the arm his head was on so she could glance down at him properly, shaking her head with a near-silent huff. 

"You look like hell, Tony." 

Understatement, but she could be kind when she was conducting an inquisition. 

"Kind of hard to believe it's been a good few years since we last caught up, properly that is. The whole 'superhero' thing is a lot to deal with, I know, but out of the lot of you I've seen thrust into the spotlight all of a sudden you look like you've been hit the hardest."

“I know. I’m okay. Safe. Saffaf. I was scared when Victor appeared but I’m okay. I’m okay because of you.”

He couldn’t really promise that nothing would have happened to him; months ago, he’d never expected to lose an arm and while he was managing the loss of his right arm, it left a gaping hole in his defences; like a loose stitch that could be tugged on and unravelled. But he had accepted that weakness as fact, not shame and trusted Susan to protect him.

“Rhyfelwr dewr. You were amazing out there. We are safe because of your quick thinking. You are…stupendous.”  Reed whispered into her ear as she all but crawled into his lap, letting him bring her closer and cuddle her tight to his chest. All while mouthing words of love and affection, nimble fingers tracing them into her skin.

A kiss to his left temple then trailing down to his lips, gently echoing her own gentle kisses while her hands carded through his curled hair; he hadn’t had it cut in a while and feeling her fingernails scratch and stroke his scalp made his eyelids flutter in pleasure.

“We are safe. Together. This is our time just…be us. cwtsh. Everything else can just wait.”

The kiss then deepened into something more, Reed catching his teeth on her lower lip gently before letting go. He didn’t miss the shiver and responded by coiling his arm around her waist, then snaking it along her back, stroking and touching tense muscles and smooth skin.

Leaning in and kissing along her jaw, lips wandering where his right hand could not; tracing the curve of the shell of her ear while rumbling deeply, then back to her lips, leaning in for a deep kiss, while pressing forward..

And nearly sending the pair of them falling off the bed because he had forgotten in a split second that he only had one arm to brace himself and his left arm was busy making sure Sue was still pressed against him. Maybe a few weeks back he would have lost his temper, but now all his could do was snort and giggle silently. Sue shoved at his left shoulder with a petulant pout on her lips. 

Uncoiling his arm, Reed fell back onto the bed and scooted across the mattress, tongue peeking out to lick his lips nervously, hair ruffled and bed shirt crinkled.

Their mouths met again, Reed taking charge so beautifully and in a way that made only fuelled the spark of desire that already had made her skin feel flushed all over, a different kind of adrenaline from that of fight or flight, but then gravity started to take over and she made a squeak. He had a firm hold on her so she wasn't going to have an embarrassing backward sprawl, but it'd thrown the mood out just momentarily. 

And then Reed was trembling with barely-there laughter.

"Hey!" she teased and shoved at his shoulder, pouting as best she could while frowning but ultimately she could feel another smile brewing, brought on by his own infectious one that came with his silent giggles. 

'Can we try that again?' 

Sue gave in and chuckled then, a soft smile on her lips and her gaze soft as she walked up the mattress on her knees, straddling over his hips once more. She bowed over him and nipped gentle kisses to his neck, weight leant on one elbow and fingers gently tousled into his locks, while her other hand snuck down between them to start working loose his bed shirt; one button after the other until she could pull it open and splay her palm over his bare skin and ribs. 

"We can definitely try that again handsome," she said with a soft laugh, nuzzling her nose up against his jaw. "We're less likely to topple here." 

She pushed herself to lean up just a fraction, gazing down at her husband tiredly but appreciatively, her hair falling either side of their faces like a veil of platinum blonde.

It had taken some wrangling, but Reed had gotten the two animals to sleep in separate rooms; Felix was sequestered with a litter tray in the tiny walk in laundry while Lucky was camped out in the kitchen. Both had had an extremely stressful few hours considering the events and all of them needed a bit of quiet time.

Reed himself, wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Susan. It wasn’t their original bed, or even the luxurious king sized bed they’d shared at the mansion but it was as close to safe and as home as they could manage. The events at the mansion sat heavily on his mind. Mostly a churning, heavy and ugly weight that settled in the pit of his stomach. In part it was because of Victor’s reappearance; a large part, in fact. But it was also the background radiation of worrying about Susan. He always did, but tonight; that niggling worry turned into full blown stress, especially after they had felt safe enough to wind down.

It had been a long time since he’d seen her that enraged. He couldn’t deny why she was so angry; Victor had threatened the lives of people she had cared about, threatened her and vowed to kill him. It was just…

Her powers were a product of her mental will; and mental strain impacted on her, hurt her, caused pain and exhaustion. A nose bleed sent him into panic mode; he could never tell her what to do; she was her own woman but there was a fear that one day she would stroke out from forming a force shield or something insidious and unfathomable would lurk in that beautiful mind of hers.

With a quiet whimper, Reed sat down next to Sue, who was perched on the edge of the bed, looking dazed and blank. That sort of exhaustion that couldn’t be fixed by sleep; he had become too familiar with it recently. Sidling closer, Reed lent in and kissed her cheek, his one hand twining around her shoulders to rub comfortingly at tense muscles and sore tendons. Hand then moving upwards to rub at her scalp, tracing known sore spots while combing through her hair, enjoying the soft, silky texture of hair against his skin.

“Have I mentioned today I love you? Because I do.” 

Sighing Reed leant on her a bit more, nose twitching as he picked up on the faint floral and honey scent of soap; they had both after dinner had made a beeline for the shower to wash off all the grime, soot and aches of the enormous battle they had both escaped from.

"I’m…I..I’m so glad you are here. I could have lost you today.” 

Reed closed his eyes, then tiredly opened them. All he could think about was the last time they had fought Doom, in Shanghai. When, with his amplified powers, had killed Susan. And only by the grace of an entity he did not fully understand, she had been saved. At least Victor no longer had the power cosmic, but Reed could never forget how malicious; how downright vicious the dictator could be.

So she gently had washed them and patted them dry, then coated them with a salve to take the edge off and wrapped them to keep them sterile. Lucky, bless, was the sweetest thing the whole time -- likely a result of how exhausted the dog looked along with how placid he usually was in the first place. Soon he was curled up on the make-shift bed she set up for him made with a couch cushion and beefed up into a nest with blankets, and Felix curled up atop him once he'd settled. 

She then joined Reed in the bathroom, stripping down out of her clothes to slip under the deliciously warm water while he was on the way out to go dry off. Funny how they always were in such sync no matter when they did their shower routine. The water stung against her skin which was sensitive and tender in places from scrapes and bruises, but once it settled she fell into a numb state of mind, the exhaustion of everything catching up and practically slapping her in the face. 

Today had been... trying, to say the very least.

The reappearance of Victor Von Doom had been incredibly unsettling, and the subsequent destruction of everything they'd come to call home along with the fight that followed had taken a toll on everyone, and left them all fractured and aloof and vulnerable. While they'd all survived it didn't mean they were all coping. Doom was a particular sore spot for Reed and Sue thanks to the very tangled pasts they all had, but his later assaults on them after the cosmic storm mutated them, and the near vendetta he had against her husband, was very personal and made him much more than just some villain. 

And in part she was left scared of how little damage she'd been able to do against him. She'd done enough, but it'd taken such a toll. 

Hours after the event her head was still pounding, a deep-set pain that bested any headache or even migraine, something that practically felt unreachable and right in the middle of her brain. All she could smell was the tinge of blood through her sinuses from the strain. Forcefields and bending light didn't take that much strain when she normally did them, but the emergency field she'd thrown up when the mansion exploded around them had almost knocked her out -- a combination of heat and pressure and surprise putting a toll on her. 

Hurting Victor? Had taken even more power. She'd looked like she belonged in Hannibal when it'd all been over and Reed had tended to her wounds when they were safe. Dried blood staining her lips and her chin and her neck.

It'd been impossible to miss the worry in her husband's face when he'd wiped it all clean with a warm wash cloth. 

The scent of blood soon was replaced with flowers and honey; violets and strawberries lingering in her hair, toffee and honey on her skin, iodine stains washing away with the sweet and moisturising suds that made her feel a little more human. Exhausted but a bit more revitalised she turned off the water and dried off, brushed her hair back once it was towelled mostly dry, then slipped into one of Reed's dressing-gowns to cover up and keep warm as she padded out into their bedroom and sunk down onto the end of the bed. 

She might've been exhausted but sleep wasn't going to come easy.

A warmth settled in beside her as Reed sunk down onto the bed, gently kissing her cheek and wrapping around her, murmuring sweet and soft words to her that along with the soft massaging of his fingers against terse muscles had Susan sighing deeply, listing into his side heavily to take comfort in his presence. He was safe. Alive and safe. She gently reached up and traced her fingers against his arm, starting lightly before kneading firmer so his muscles plasticised under her fingertips. 

"I love you too darling, so, so much," Sue murmured faintly. "I -- I was terrified. So scared that he would... that I'd..." 

She'd almost lost him once recently in an event that'd cost him his arm. Victor practically foaming at the mouth for his blood had once again struck up the fear of truly losing him.

Susan coaxed herself into moving, pushing up off of the edge of the bed to straddle over his lap and wrap herself up around him tightly in a close hug, kissing his hairline and nuzzling his hyper-warm skin reverently despite her fatigue. 

She sought his lips, fingers twining into his salt and pepper curls as she kissed him sweetly and gently, body quaking as she deepened it almost desperately. 

“I do not fear your wrath or your posturing. Regardless this is a battle I have already won. I, Victor will see you all dead or hiding like vermin.” 

When Thor cast down the rain, it hindered the Thunderer’s powerful lightning strikes for fear of hurting his comrades but Victor had no such restraints.

Dropping the cannon to free both hands, the air tingled with charged ions, Victor’s clawed hands turning inwards for a moment while he focused his own cosmic abilities inwards. A target produced itself; the murderous glare Susan shot him as she approached the battlefield spurred him onwards. 

“So Reed’s still cowering behind you, the simpering fool? He’s useless to you, you know. That handicap he has now, it must disgust you. Hideous as it is. Maybe I should do him one final favour and put him out of his misery.”

It was perversely enjoyable to twist the knife, to see just how enraged he could goad Susan into getting. Her own morality would hold her back, it would hold them all back.

Curling his hand outward he sent a steam of energy straight at the Invisible Woman, her kinetic shields taking the brunt of the blow. But the charged atmosphere leaped from water droplet to water droplet, surging into the mains power of the shattered building, the area sweltering under a different type of heat. 

She barely had time to think, the young mutant who'd flocked to her side for guidance glanced at with a wide-eyed gaze, and before she had a chance to order her to touch her and take on board her offensive-defensive power-set Victor changed the rules of the game once again.

The barrier that was thrown up protected both herself and Rogue, and Sue ordered her to follow Reed and get to safety as she pushed forward. Victor's electricity was practically everywhere; surging and sparking through the water, so Sue encapsulated herself in a near-skin tight field and did one of the things she did best:

She disappeared. 

With Doom occupied in controlling the doombots that could be heard and now seen around the perimeter, and Sue having used the visual interference of all the electricity Victor had thrown out as part of her moment to disappear, it meant she was able to get into close quarters. Exactly where she needed to be. 

Victor might think she was placid, would hold back on her powers. Maybe a few years ago, yes. But Susan had died at his hands once before, and she refused to let him take any more lives -- be it her own, her husband's, or any of her team mates and friends. She was no killer, but she was not a pushover in the slightest; if she could weaken or disable him they could gain more of an advantage -- be it to take him down or beat a hasty retreat.

"The only thing disgusting here is you," Sue yelled above the din of the chaos, latching onto Victor from behind with her feet digging into his hips so she could bow over his shoulder to press her palms to the right side of his chest. "You're not going to damn well hurt my family." 

She focused hard and worked on creating a field inside of Victor, surrounding one of his lungs with as much pressure as she could muster to try and damage it. Something very hard to do given he was very, very strong and had internal armour.