I only knew them a couple of years before Bucky was drafted and Steve volunteered. I knew I had to follow them, but at that time, females couldn’t serve in the Armed Forces, and anyway I had no intention of ever ending a life again. I used the transportation glyph twice, the first time ending up in China, but the second time I was barely a hundred kilometres from where I wanted to be. I was getting better.

I met up with Steve next when he was standing in the wreckage of an unidentifiable something, holding a car door. He was angry I used the Transportation glyph again, and that was when I suggested a safer alternative. I placed on him a glyph, one of very few that was safe to use on others. I placed a slight variation on myself.

If he was injured, in danger, or summoned me with his mind, I would come to him, without the need for the loss of energy that Transportation induced. I called it Summoning.

It wasn’t long before he summoned me. He needed help to save Bucky from a HYDRA stronghold – the very one where I had been imprisoned. I used an invisibility glamour glyph to hide myself and guide him to his friend and the other prisoners. I replaced the Summoning glyph, burnt out after only one use, like I thought, and left again.

I ended up in Italy, where I met a dark-haired boy named Nico di Angelo, who for some reason I trusted immensely, despite the eight year age gap – he was eight, I was sixteen – and I told him my story. I was distraught when he disappeared, presumed dead, barely six months after I met him.

I had barely a few days to dwell on his death, because Steve summoned me again. Bucky also was dead, and Steve was struggling to cope.

I bitterly regretted Bucky’s death, regretted leaving my brother. Had I been there, I could have saved him. I had recently been given a glyph for flight, and I was certain I could have at least slowed his fall, or even followed him down. But there was no time for self-pity or grief – my brother needed me to be strong for him.

Steve promised me one more mission, before we returned home to rebuild our lives. As you know, that mission went tragically wrong. I had failed to renew the summoning glyph, and was helpless to save my brother. I had failed everyone I knew.

It was then I began to dedicate myself fully to Radical Pacifism. I didn’t allow myself any more close friendships for a long time, lest I fail them again. I healed soldiers of both sides in Korea and Vietnam. Who was I to choose a side between two evils, killing for an ideal?

It was in the 1980s I finally discovered my heritage. I met a child who told me who I was. She gave me the Olympic Silver dagger I still use today.

I remember 9/11. I used the Transportation glyph to move people past blockages on the stairs, but there were so many hundreds I couldn’t save. I felt powerless, again.

Recently, when the Chitauri attacked and I realised my brother was alive; I knew I couldn’t let him know I lived. I was still immortal, and I couldn’t put him through growing old and watching me stay young. I healed and protected mortals.

More recently still, I tried to kill myself. Loki saved my life, and for the first time in more years than I wish I could remember, I had a friend. We both had killed, though not through choice, we both had suffered more at our own hands than anyone could punish us for. And both of us were the forgotten adopted siblings of a hero.

“That’s it. My story, up to date… Or at least, you know the rest.” Dragon looked at them. “Is there anything else you want to know?”

Thor stood. “I think perhaps it is time for some light entertainment. No questions for now.”

Tony groaned as Thor placed his hammer on the ground. “Who wants to try first?”

Percy frowned. “What are we trying to do?”

Thor grinned. “Just pick the hammer up.”

Percy stood, grabbed the handle, and swung it into the air. “How can you fight with something this light?”

Annabeth grabbed it from him. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s never going to do any damage, Thor. Not unless you have some serious enchantment in it.” She grinned mischievously at Thor, and mouthed, he doesn't know. Sssh.

Percy snorted. “It can summon lightning, Wise Girl.”

“You only know that because he nearly killed you with it the first time we met.”

Dragon frowned. “I never knew heroes could be so under informed.”

Annabeth glared at her. “Don’t you dare tell Percy, he’s having too much fun.”

Percy glanced across. “Tell me what?” He swung the hammer above his head, grinning.

Steve sprinted in with Bucky. “Dragon, he – Holy Hades! Percy?”

Dragon laughed. “Yes. And his girlfriend.”

Thor grinned. “The hammer respects classical heroes, such as Perseus, Desolator of the Titans, and Annabeth Chase, Bane of Arachne.”

Percy put down Mjolnir. “Would someone like to explain what’s going on?”

Steve pulled Dragon aside. “He remembers! Only little bits, but it’s coming back. He remembers us!”

One hour earlier…

Steve carried a tray of food into the room Bucky was in. “Hey, pal, want some breakfast?”

The dark haired man nodded, sitting up. Steve handed him the food, then turned to leave. It was painful to spend too much time with the shadow of his best friend.

As Steve reached the door, he spoke. “Until the end of the line, Stevie – you promised.”

Steve turned around, eyes widening as Bucky spoke again. “I remember, buddy. Not everything – but I remember some things. Dragon, Brooklyn, and my Stevie. I guess it is permanent then?”

“It has been so far.”

And then they were hugging and laughing as Steve hadn’t laughed in years, in almost seventy years, because finally Bucky had come home.

TIME SKIP

“You need a medical, Dragon. You haven’t had one in eighty years.”

She froze, then backed away from her brother, her face pale. “You can’t make me. I have healing glyphs, I'm fine, and you can’t make me. You can’t, it’s not legal.” She continued to move away until she backed into Bruce, who smiled at her.

“I’m sorry.” She slumped into his arms, the anaesthetic working instantly. Bruce lifted her easily, his strength at odds with his slender appearance. He frowned. “She’s underweight. She should be more like eighty kilos for her height.”

He carried her into the medical room, gently depositing her on the bed and sliding off her jacket. Black glyphs twined up her arms, overlaid by scars, some old, many new. Steve examined her arm, then frowned angrily.

“I need some rubbing alcohol. She has six sleepless glyphs. That’s really dangerous – she could die from lack of sleep without feeling tired.”

Bruce handed him a bottle of hand sanitizer, and he carefully cleaned off the specific glyphs, leaving those he didn't recognise.

Bruce reached across to place a blood pressure cuff on her other arm, then froze. “Di-did you know that she cuts?”

“Pardon?” said Steve, grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands.

“She self-harms. Did you know that?”

“How can you tell,” said Steve. “Are you certain?” The worry in his voice was plain to hear. Despite the fact she had more years of real world experience than him, he still worried about his little sister.

“See these perfectly straight, parallel scars? Those only come from self-harm. I’ve seen it too often, especially in teens suffering from panic and depression.” Bruce remembered far too many incidents of hopeless, homeless teenagers looking for a way out. It always made him sad, no matter how many times he saw it.

It took almost an hour for her to wake up. Steve tried to confront her, but she ignored him, leaving the building to return to her flat.

Bucky walked over to Steve. “Is she okay? Is your sister alright?”

Steve nodded. “She is in pain, and she is angry at me. I’ll talk to her later.” Right now Dragon needed some time to cool off – alone.