MONICA / PHOTON.

“No what, Monica? I don’t need you breathing down my neck every five minutes, seriously. I’m fine.” Clint knew that he was acting differently, lashing out even, but he couldn’t help it. Things had been different since he’d come back. Being around his teammates, knowing what needed to happen to get all of them on the same page as him, it wasn’t sitting right.

“I’m not siding with them. I’m just saying we’d be in a very different position had Krakoa not opened up their resurrection queues.”

“I’m just relaying what Fontaine said. Don’t shoot the messenger.” Valentina’s insistence that the other Thunderbolts change their name was a lost cause, but he’d been stuck with pitching it to Monica anyways.

“Those mutants sure know what they’re doing— I haven’t felt this good in years. Apparently all a guy’s gotta do to feel better is die. Who knew?”

“Yes, I am Sorcerer Supreme again. The why’s and how’s aren’t really any of your concern.”

“I don’t pry into minds without asking first, Captain Rambeau.” Or well, he didn’t use to. The different mix of Sinister’s DNA clouding up his mind seemed to have other plans. She was thinking about the explosion, because of course she was. “What happened was devastating, truly. But I hope you can see that Krakoa is trying to extend whatever resources we can to those who need it.”

“I’m going to very honest with you— I’m not really looking to get into too much trouble right now. We’ve got a baby on the way and y’know.. I love putting on the suit, but I gotta be around for that. And for her.”

“You want my two cents? It’s just a different kind of mess everywhere I go. That’s all I’ve got to say.”

“Hill’s been taken care of.” When Daisy realized how final that sounded, she raised her eyebrows and quickly backtracked. “She’s not dead, though. Just on a mandatory medical leave.”

“No, I’m not talkin’ about that.” The last word was so pronounced with his accent that he may as well have said it with a ‘d’. And by that, Marc meant Pleasant Hill. Thankfully he’d avoided the mandatory evaluations thus far, and it would stay that way. There was no way in hell he was sitting in front of a therapist. “Anything else on your mind? Literally anything else.”

An orange portal leading to the Sanctum dissipated behind Stephen as he turned around and faced the person in front of him. “This better be important. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but reality is still falling apart.” The bags that had plagued his eyes for the past few months were gone now, which was an improvement, but things were far from fine.

“Officially? I’m retired, yeah. Doesn’t mean I can’t be interested in what’s been going on, though.”

“I am not here to listen to your whining. The Avengers must deal with the consequences of their own actions in Pleasant Hill. I want no part of it.”