Chapter 7

Before the second scream had died, Blaine and Sam crashed through the balcony door of Blaine’s room.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked as he wielded his hammer around, looking for a threat.

Kurt had fallen off the bed, hastily scooting back from it and was stuck in the corner with the open shower.

“Kurt!” Blaine yelled, running over to him. Sam was looking around the room, making sure that they were alone. “Kurt, what happened?”

Kurt looked around in bewilderment as he tried to get his panicked breathing under control. “I…I…”

“Did someone attack you? Are you hurt? Are you alright?” 

Yes. Yes. No. “I…it must have been a bad dream,” Kurt muttered, glancing around. He was in Blaine’s room, not his meadow. Nothing was on fire. Sebastian wasn’t here. He was safe. “Sorry, I thought it was real and I guess I just panicked…”

“It’s okay,” Blaine nodded, rubbing his shoulder soothingly. “It’s alright. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“No!” Kurt’s heart picked up speed as he thought of what was waiting for him in his dreams. “No, I—I mean, could I get my arm looked at now? And maybe some painkillers?” He held his crooked arm awkwardly.

“Of course,” Blaine said, helping him to his feet. “Of course, let’s get you checked out—”

“Kurt, what was your dream about?” Sam asked quietly from the corner.

Kurt froze.

Blaine sighed exasperatedly. “Sam, do you really think—”

“I just wanted to know what he thought was real,” Sam shrugged innocently.

Kurt stared at him, swallowing briefly. “Fire. Everything was on fire.”

*Down in the lobby*

“Puck’s on board,” Mike said as he pushed through the revolving glass door and fell in step with Santana.

“Sugar is too,” she nodded. 

“Maybe we should have told them?” Mike frowned.

Santana rolled her eyes. “No way, they’d have never agreed. It’s already going to be bad enough when they find out.”

The two made their way into the elevators. Santana turned to Mike. “Do you honestly think this is a good plan?”

Mike frowned, silent. “If we were our parents, I’d say yes. Gathering allies to help our team fight, taking the enemy down that way.”

“But?” She arched an eyebrow.

He sighed. “But we’re not our parents.” He looked at her sadly. “I mean, let’s face it, Tana. We’re all teenagers, with the exception of Cooper. We…” He looked uncharacteristically frustrated for a moment. “We’re not soldiers. You and I are barely spies, not even assassins like our Clint and Tasha were. Artie is either helpless in his wheelchair or an unstoppable force when the other guy comes out. Cooper’s too involved with the panache of the Stark name to really take his father’s real legacy to heart. Blaine’s too untrained and doesn’t know anything really about fighting. Sam doesn’t have the driving fight that his father does. And Steve’s great grandkid is greener than a forest. Plus he left anyways. None of our friends or allies really know what they’re doing either. I mean…” He leaned against the elevator wall dejectedly. “We’re kids.”

Santana didn’t bother trying to argue. Because she’d asked for honesty and Mike had given it to her straight. “I…” she cleared her throat. “I wish mom and the others were awake.”

Mike gripped the top of her shoulder briefly. “So do I, Tana. So do I.”

They stepped off the elevator and stared.

Sam was sitting on the edge of the bar, tossing Mjolnir back and forth and shouting out unhelpful advice to Blaine, who was attempting to put Kurt’s broken arm in a sling.

“What the hell happened?” Santana asked, stepping down from the dais. 

Mike hung back and caught the quick look between Sam and Blaine before Sam filled them in on  Kurt’s predicament. He filed it away to ask Sam later; something was definitely going on and he wanted to know—

“Jarvis!”

Mike was shoved unceremoniously out of the way as a girl rushed by him to the main computer consul. 

“Miss Christina!” Mike had never heard a computer—let alone the steadfast and dry Jarvis—sound flustered or excited, but that was the closest the could come to describing the sudden pitch change of the electronic voice. “It is a delight to see you again.”

The girl pushed her violet-streaked black hair back into a ponytail and shoved a pair of large glasses on her face as her fingers danced across the screen, flipping holographic files into the air. “Oh, what has Tony done to you, deary? Blaine, you have been rerouting his systems like I told you, right?”

“Yes,” Blaine sighed. “But it isn’t enough. I told you, dad’s protective of him and he doesn’t like anyone potentially harming Jarvis.”

“More like he’s too stubborn to admit that I’m right because his ego won’t let him,” she muttered. “How are you holding up though, Jarvis?”

“Much better now that you’re here, Miss Christina.”

She rolled her eyes. “How many times will I have to tell you to call me Tina?”

“Tina.” Mike covered his mouth to keep his laugh from escaping. He had to admit, it did sound funny coming from the computer’s voice.

“I’m so confused,” Kurt muttered. 

“Sorry,” Blaine laughed. “Tina, this is Santana, Mike, Sam, and Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you all,” she smiled, nodding at each. 

Mike smiled back. 

She turned back to Blaine. “Where’s Artie?” she asked eagerly.

Mike’s smile fell.

“Sleeping. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you when he wakes up, he’s a huge fan of your father’s work.”

“And I love his father’s work,” Tina gushed excitedly. “This is great!”

Mike saw nothing great about it.

“So this is apart of the whole “amassing our forces” phase of the plan, right?” Kurt clarified.

“Right,” Blaine nodded. “We’ll gather everyone together and come up with a strategy that suits our strengths.”

“Which Jarvis and I will get right on,” Tina smiled, spinning holograms around. 

“I’ll help,” Mike said suddenly. Everyone turned to him in surprise. “That is…I know everyone’s profile so I can help with amassing information?” he amended. 

Tina’s smile widened. “Yeah! That’d be great.”

Mike sheepishly walked over to where she was working, doing his best to ignore the large smirk threatening to split Santana’s face. 

Sam, Blaine and Santana started throwing around battle suggestions, when they were interrupted by commotion coming from the elevator.

“Santana!”

A tan girl with extremely straight brown hair marched off the elevator, infuriated and jabbing her finger behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me thathe was working this job! I cannot work with him!”

“See, that would actually wound me,” a mohawked-guy snapped as he stepped off as well. “If it actually came from someone of consequence.”

“You see what I mean?” the girl shrieked.

“Sugar!” Santana snapped. “Now really isn’t the time or the place! Natasha’s gone and Britt and Cedes are missing, do you really want to bring up your rivalry with Puck now?”

Sugar looked infuriated, but she bit her tongue. “My apologies.”

“Better.” Santana’s voice was still sharp as she led them into the room. 

“How’s the mom, Puck?” Sam called from his corner.

“She’s fine,” Puck sighed, collapsing onto the couch. “You know, not really sticking to her retirement, but she’s good.”

“And who’s fault is it that she can’t stay put?” Sugar snapped.

“Shut up, Sugar!”

“Are they together?” Kurt muttered to Blaine.

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Well, Santana and Puck had a small fling way back when, but that died a harsh death a long time ago.”

“No, Puck and Sugar.”

“What?” Blaine’s eyes widened. “No. Puck and Sugar are siblings.”

“Oh,” Kurt nodded. “Okay, that makes more sense.”

“Look,” Sam sighed over all the squabbling. “Can we just go to bed and talk about it in the morning? We’re all obviously too shot to do any good right now.”

“I agree,” Blaine nodded. “Jarvis, will you bring up everyone’s room assignments?”

He heard a weird mechanical giggle as Tina re-calibrated some of his settings.

“Jarvis!”

“Sorry, sir!” The computer whizzed and holographic room charts flew up into everyone’s faces. “Here are the quarters for all present.”

“Tina’s staying in here,” Blaine frowned as he read on. “Of course she is.”

“Ah, Jarvis!” Tina smiled, petting the consul fondly.

“Gross.” Santana wrinkled her nose. 

“You guys are so weird,” Kurt muttered as everyone started to disperse.