On the other hand, she’s currently got three teenagers in her house, two superpowered, plus an alien that doesn’t seem much more mature than them, and they’ve been continually arguing about their next course of action. Molly wants to join S.H.I.E.L.D. Gert blows up at her whenever she so much as hints about it. Karolina wants to stay in the country until her brother’s old enough to be smuggled out with her, even though that would mean them hiding out for over a decade. Xavin just wants to go wherever Karolina goes, and also wants the seventeen-year-old human girl to commit to her for life, which she very understandably doesn’t want to do yet.
She’s had to forbid Karolina to use her powers in the house, simply because her neighbors might notice, but as she comes out of the master bedroom, having finished her phone call with May, she half-expects to find something new to have been blasted. But downstairs, she finds nothing damaged. Just Karolina and Xavin in a close discussion by the window-the curtains are mostly drawn-and Gert sulking at the other end, having obviously just had another argument with her sister. From the kitchen is coming the smell of eggs and broth; Molly’s apparently been experimenting with cooking since the quartet started defending Karolina’s mother’s church.
“Well?” Gert asks dully, causing the young couple to quiet. “What’s the verdict? Are they bringing hoods to put on us?”
“You’ll actually be glad for one piece of news,” Anne tells her. “The director refuses to recruit anyone underage. If your sister still wants to join us at 18, she can ask again then.”
“Glad to see you people have *some* ethics,” she retorts. “But seriously, where are we going?”
“Probably somewhere in Europe; we’re still working on it. It should be within a couple of weeks, though, three at the most. A warning it might be Scandinavia.”
Karolina can’t hold back a groan. All four of them have been struggling with the Portland winter, which isn't the kind of thing they’d ever had much exposure to. Xavin gives her arm a comforting stroke. “It will not be that bad,” she says. “They have promised we will remain together. We will have our adobe, wherever it will be, the four of us, maybe the five of us in the future, with our memorial pictures of our loved ones at the door, the way it has become the custom here on Earth.”
“I think that custom’s mostly just here in Portland,” Anne says. “But you can bring to where you go, if you want.” She hung up her own photos of her girlfriend and parents and niece after her friends started doing it, and when these four saw that, she ended up helping them retrieve photos of all those they wished to remember, or were still arguing over including. She’s pretty sure it’ll help them think of their new abode as home.
The mood of everyone seems to improve a bit when Molly calls them into the dining room. Most of the dishes she’s taught herself have been either Jewish or Latino in origin, but today she decided to try egg drop soup, saying it was her favorite thing to get whenever her family ordered Chinese food. “Pepper might be a little heavy,” she warns as she puts the bowls down.
She shouldn’t have pointed it out; Anne wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. But the soup’s still good, and she says so. Molly, who took the news that she can’t join S.H.I.E.L.D. for another two years calmly but sadly, says, “Thanks. I like cooking soups…” and then suddenly drifts off, looking troubled. Anne suspects some memory involving the Yorkses, especially when she sees Gert’s careful look. “I think I’ll do a few more before we leave,” she finally finishes, and Anne finds she’s genuinely looking forward to seeing what she does there.
After they’ve gotten the dishes into the dishwasher (not without another thankfully brief spat about Anne's not even sure what), Karolina takes another peek out the window, and exclaims, “It’s snowing again!” They’ve all seen it by now, but the other three all run to join her at the window anyway, still fascinated enough to spend a long time watching it fall. Anne’s glad for the peace, but she can’t help but note that they all look at least a little melancholy as well.