Peter threw the books on his desk to the floor. Some of the books ricocheted off of the floor and knocked the lamp over. A loud crash followed soon after, breaking the silence that settled. Peter's glasses fell off of his nose and onto the floor where everything had landed. His chest heaved as he exhaled loudly through his mouth. His fingers curled up into fists and faced the wall, not willing to let me see him in his angered state. I had just told him about what happened to my parents, which caused him to go into a rage. It took him a few minutes to control his actions and regain his composure. He grit his teeth, "Who did this to you?"

I clasped my hands together and crossed my legs. I wanted to wait until he calmed down fully, but I knew he wouldn't wait. When Peter was angry, he needed the answers up front, otherwise he would storm off. I reluctantly answered, "William Stryker, but he's already dead."

"Damn..." He tugged at strands of his hair and leaned his head on the wall. "I hate people like that. People that just plain out hurt others. I couldn't do anything to help you. I couldn't save you from that pain. I couldn't...I didn't even know you were alive, Lilly."

"Peter, it happened. So what? What's the big deal? It's in the past!" I exclaimed in a stressed tone. Maybe he didn't want to let that go. Does he blame himself for this? We were kids, for God's sake. He couldn't have done anything about it. I thought to myself. I picked at my skin to try to keep myself calm. Getting out of hand was something that we didn't need right now. Fighting was enough.

Peter choked in between words, "What's the big deal?" He had to regain himself before he regurgitated some lame argument or something that would hurt both of our feelings. He paused for a long time before continuing, "The big deal is every day that I wake up, I pray to God that you're still here. Sometimes, remembering that you're not dead sheds some light into my life. You're the only member of my family that can protect themselves. The only one I can talk to about literally anything. Yeah, I've gone through a rough few years, but I'm afraid, Lilly." He stopped talking and closed his eyes. Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and realize this was all a dream. Some concocted fantasy my mind made up while I'm in a coma from a terrible accident that happened while on a mission. What if I wake up and you aren't there?"

A mental needle stuck its way into my heart. His words hurt, and showed the weaker side that I hadn't seen a lot of. He was afraid. Afraid of losing someone else. The fear of death was strong in all of these people in the Avengers tower, but not a lot of them were willing to admit it. It shows that they are weak if they say it, but that's not the truth. It just means they have come to terms with death. "Peter, I'm real. I'm not going to suddenly pick up my stuff and leave unless all of the other Avengers wanted me to. I doubt they would do that though. They love you too much to do that, Peter. I'm always going to be here for you, even if we're miles apart. This isn't a dream."

I picked up Peter's glasses and examined them. He definitely needed them for his vision, but this moment got me thinking. When he had his glasses on, he was the sarcastic, nerdy Peter everyone knew and loved. He was happy, comedic, strong willed. Oh, and did I mention sarcastic? When the glasses came off, it revealed another side of him. The anger, the depression, the mental fight he has between his emotions and staying strong for the sake of his sanity. He was a completely different person. The glasses were just a mask. Or maybe they transformed him back to his regular self. Is that what my glasses do to me? I pondered.

"It's people like Stryker that make me think they can just take away my family from me. I won't ever see them again. That's why I was so angry. So...terrified. I can't let that happen again."

I blurted out without thinking, "Wolverine killed him. It's over. Done. The past. End of conversation." I just wanted to talk about something else. Something that would bring us together, not pull us apart. We had been apart for so long. So very long. Hearing all of those words come from Peter put us on a whole new level in our friendship. He opened up to me, something a lot of people didn't do on this level of private pent up emotions. I wanted to hear more, but this conversation was breaking my heart.

Adrenaline still pumped through his veins, but it was at the slowing point. He quickly reverted back to the other conversation for the need of emphasis. He pointed at me, but retracted his hand and wanted to point again. "And you're sure he's dead?"

"You don't know what end of conversation means, do you?" I rolled my eyes and huffed. He was too adamant when it came to knowing the truth, but it was something I admired in him. I took off my glasses and rubbed my eyes. "I watched him die with my own eyes. He's dead. Gone. Never to come back."

"Good." Peter fixed up his room a bit by cleaning up the mess he made. His blood pressure dropped and soon he was back to his stable self. He stopped abruptly and dropped his books onto his desk. "Wait...you said Wolverine killed him. Like, the Wolverine?" Peter turned to me and a twinkle came to his eye. From this point, I knew I had the red herring to change the conversation to a different topic. I nodded, which was the only signal he needed for him to keep talking. He sat down in his desk chair. Peter almost shook from excitement. "I've been trying to meet him for years! He's my hero."

I smiled shyly at the memories that passed through my mind. Knowing that other people looked up to Logan like I did made me happy. He was one of the most caring people I have ever met. "He took me in after what happened..."

Peter quietly squealed to himself. The shocked expression mixed with exhilaration could be clearly seen on his face now. His brown eyes lit up and he rubbed his hands down his face. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" When I just raised an eyebrow in question of what he meant, he elaborated. "Were you raised at Xavier's School for the Gifted?"

"Where do you think I learned to control my powers?" I asked him, but all he returned was a shrug. I bit my lip in remembering the journey I took to get to where I am now. The sadness, heartbreak, family, it all registered back into my brain like it was just yesterday it all happened. I glanced at the ground and lowered my tone. "They helped me get through a lot. They gave me somewhere to stay. A path to follow towards my future."

Peter had fully calmed down and sunk back into his chair. His face fell, remembering why the books were on the floor in the first place. "I guess we shouldn't look at the past. I'm sorry for getting angry."

Before I could answer, a commotion rose from the other room. Peter and I looked at each other in an alarmed state before running out there. Everyone was hugging each other in a group hug while tears streamed down their faces. They clung onto each other, cries of joy and celebration erupting from their throats. Peter and I raised our eyebrows and stood in the corner of the room. I pushed up my glasses before they fell off and waited until the cry fest was over.

Thor let go first and backed up into one of the couches. He stumbled before he caught himself and wiped a tear from his dry cheek. "I saw you die. How did you survive?"

The group dispersed to reveal Agent Phil Coulson in the middle. His small blue eyes wandered around the group as a smile plastered itself to his face. He fixed the small amount of brown hair on his head and wrinkles nearly formed on his forehead. It seemed like he was under a lot of stress. Coulson's black suit seemed freshly ironed and his shoes shined. "Magic," he responded.

Thor tilted his head in confusion. Natasha and Clint squinted their eyes in unison. Bruce leaned up against the wall, while Tony crossed his arms over his chest. Steve raised an eyebrow. Peter and I stood idly by, just waiting for introductions.

Phil shook his head at our sad sense of humor and continued, "Long story short: Fury's test worked. I'm standing here today because of him." His blue eyes glimpsed at Peter and I. "I'm afraid we haven't met. Agent Phil Coulson," he held out a hand.

Peter shook his hand. "Peter."

"I know who you are," Coulson assured him. His eyes locked on mine and almost squinted. "I'm not too sure who you are."

"Lilly, Peter's cousin," I introduced myself. He didn't hold out his hand to shake mine, so I stood back and bowed my head a bit. It was a bit too formal for my taste, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. He seems to have a lot of influence on the team. Better play my cards right if I don't want anything to go wrong. I thought. Everybody looked at us, but Coulson wouldn't say anything. It seemed like he was analyzing me, like some sort of memory popped back into his mind from long ago.

Barton sat down on one of the couches. He sunk down and continued to drink the cup of coffee he had brewed up earlier. His baby blue eyes looked up from his cup up at Coulson, "What do you do for a living now?"

"I'm surprised Fury hasn't told you." Coulson sat down in a single chair and clasped his hands together. His elbows rested on his knees. "I'm the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. now. I can't stay long because I have important things to tend to."

Steve stepped forward an inch before remembering Coulson was a friend, not an enemy. He held back and knit his eyebrows together. "Fury promised S.H.I.E.L.D. would die with the fall of Hydra."

"Hydra didn't exactly fall. They just scattered around the world like chickens with their heads cut off," Coulson replied quickly.

Clint gasped and choked on his coffee. Natasha patted his back and hushed him. He cleared his throat and said in a hoarse voice, "Sorry."

I think I read somewhere that Barton has a farm... I trailed off in thought.

Coulson continued, "Fury didn't tell me anything other than that I am in charge."

Steve scoffed and whispered to himself, "Fury has a knack for that..."

"Now, for the reason I came here for..." He pulled out a flash drive and handed it to Tony, who gladly took it and hooked it up to the laptop on the counter. "We have a situation on our hands. Red Skull has a partner he's working with to finish Schmidt's original objective: making the world submissive to him. We believe the partner in on it is none other than Loki himself."

Thor's eyes darkened and he sagged against the wall he leaned against. His head hung in despair as memories flashed through his mind. "That's not possible. Loki's dead. He died in my arms."

Coulson shook his head and began to say, "There's a-"

Thor became defensive and quickly angered. He turned red and his nostrils flared. He raised his voice, which echoed against the walls, "I saw him die! He said he died for me because he's still my brother on the inside!"

The room remained silent until Tony pulled up the information on the drive and cracked his knuckles. He snapped a bit before he threw the files from the screen out into the air via projector. He skimmed some documents before reaching the pictures. "Hate to break it to you, Point Break, but Phil is right." He enlarged a video dated earlier that week hiding behind a file and played it.

Loki was on screen in his black leathery clothes adorned with golden armor plates attached to his overcoat. His golden horned helmet sat on his head with his slicked back hair sticking out in the ends. Loki's greenish-blue eyes narrowed as a mischievous smile formed on his slender pale face. He commanded to the crowd in front of him in a loud, booming voice, "Bow down to the new King of Asgard." Loki hit his staff against the ground to make everyone obey his orders. Hundreds of people kneeled down and hung their heads in fear. Tony stopped the video before they saw him do anything else.

"Believe me now?" Coulson spoke up. He looked at Thor, whose eyes were stuck onto the screen. He reached out to touch the picture of his brother's face, but his hand ghosted through the projection.

"Loki could have the army they're testing the serum on," Natasha brought up that point. She leaned forward on the couch and looked up at Thor. She didn't reveal any possible emotions she could be feeling, which unsettled a lot of people.

"That's crazy. The only army he could have is..." Thor's face blanked as he trailed off. His muscles tensed up and his hands clenched into fists. The more seconds that passed by, the angrier he got.

Steve rubbed his eyes and crossed his arms. His flat tone was doused in sarcasm, "The Asgardian army. That's great." He massaged his neck with one hand and formed an expression on his face that was too tired to handle another End-of-the-World scenario.

Bruce chipped in after running his hands through his graying hair, "What, does he have them under a spell?"

"Probably. He had Clinton under a spell once; I wouldn't be surprised if he did it to an army," Thor declared in a low voice.

Barton cringed upon hearing his full name. He had gotten rid of the ending a long time ago a little bit after the incident with his brother.

Coulson stood up and wiped the creases out of his suit. He said, "Maybe we need to step up our game. I've heard training can clear your mind. We could get great ideas out of it." He walked out of the room.

Natasha, Peter, Clint and I collectively groaned. Stark and Banner laughed at us as they walked out. They viewed themselves as strong enough, since Stark had suits and Banner only needed to be in his Hulk form to fight.

Rogers got a hint of excitement that shown through his eyes. He nudged Peter slightly and stated, "Come on guys. This could be fun."

We groaned again in unison. Thor walked out and into the elevator to go get some air. He needed to think about everything he just learned. I rubbed my chin and lingered behind everyone as they filed out of the room. Maybe this time we can finally put an end to Loki and Red Skull's reign. We could save the world and end them. Maybe...