Cassie Lang, One Year Later
By Izzy

By the time Luis is done talking to her stepfather and ducks in to see her, Cassie’s been working for an hour straight after finishing her homework, doing equations that would’ve made her math teacher at school sweat, but she was always good at math, and now she can do these through sheer practice. They still make her head hurt, though, and she’s glad to put both papers and StarkPad down and smile up at him as he asks, “Hey, Stinger, what’s shaking?” He’s been calling her that for months now; his explanation of why was kind of long.

“Got another packet yesterday,” she tells him. “Believe it or not, I’m actually not allowed to tell even my stepfather who it’s from.” She wishes she could, but the Queen of Wakanda can’t have anyone knowing about her activities there. “But it’s got all sorts of new discoveries about quantum science, and I’m hoping when I’m done with this, I might finally be able to tell if dad just got sucked into a time vortex or if it’s more complicated, especially if I can finally get S.H.I.E.L.D. to send us everything.”

She thinks she might do it, convince that organization she’s for real, that she’s been working on this for far longer than they, the Avengers, or anyone else was. But while the StarkPad was actually a gift from Pepper Potts, the Avengers have gotten so secretive, it’s actually possible that they’d keep it from her if she’s already succeeded. That’s probably the biggest reason they haven’t told either organization about the postcard, though the Avengers might know about it anyway. It was months before they even told Luis about it, and she doesn’t think Ava or Dr. Foster have told anyone either.

It was Ava who got it, the third time she went into the quantum realm; she describes herself as hearing her dad’s voice, and she was somehow holding it in her hand when she was pulled out. On it, in his handwriting, was written, Cassie, I might not be able to see you for a long time, and this might even arrive before I send it, but you’re going to rescue me. You didn’t have time to explain how, but you’ll figure it out. I love you, and I can’t wait to see you, however long it takes. Love always, Dad.

“Do you know if they know what happened in LA after the Watchdogs all surrendered?” Luis asks. “I went down there last week to meet with this guy, he was this old buddy of mine from high school, when he was always trying to get me to listen to Eurodance, but I was always like, ‘Nah, man, you know I’m more about the indie rock…’”

Someone else might have tried to get him back on point, especially with dinner less than fifteen minutes away, but Cassie likes listening to him ramble, even when she’s only comprehending every other sentence. Besides, his mentioning how long some of LA’s neon signs had lasted causes one observation of Queen Shuri’s she didn’t understood before that moment to suddenly click together in Cassie’s head, and when she interrupts him with, “Sorry, I gotta do something,” and grabs her tablet, he just grins and says, “That’s okay, I’ll tell your stepdad you need a couple extra minutes. He’s making your favorite ziti tonight.”

Cassie knows her stepfather doesn’t entirely approve of how much she’s thrown herself into saving her dad, but he's trying to be supportive. He gives her five whole extra minutes before knocking on her door and calling, “Cassie? The special’s starting.”

That’s the local anniversary special, of course; the one that interviewed half the people who were left alive in San Francisco, including the two of them. Luis is staying for dinner so he can watch it with them. They don’t eat in front of the TV as often as they did a few months ago, but tonight they bring their ziti into the living room as it starts.

Most of the people watching all over San Francisco weren’t here to see it empty, though they might have seen similar things happen wherever they were. Roughly half of them fled LA five months ago; Cassie has multiple classmates who still jump at loud noises. But they’ll hear about her mother, and about her soccer teammates, and her favorite science teacher, as well as about her stepfather’s colleagues who died that day. She wishes she could have talked about Hope.

As they watch one young woman wonder what her parents and grandparents might think of her now, her stepfather says, “At least your father should be proud of you, Cassie, if he ever does get back here. And won’t you be grown, then, though hopefully not too much.”

“Yeah,” Cassie agrees, because she hasn’t told anyone that she thinks it will be a long time. It’s taken her a whole year to do as much as she has. Unless fate and its timey-wimey balls (or the Avengers) allow a reunion before the actual rescue, she should be into her teens when she next sees her father. Maybe she’ll even be old enough to finally become his partner.

But then again, she thinks, everyone’s changed so much in the last year alone. And some of what's happened has been really ugly, like what happened in LA, and then all over the country thanks to Ross. But she’s also seen her city rebuild itself from literal ashes and dust, welcoming in those on the run. And she’s heard stories of other similar things. And for all the bluster about it, the Asgardians seem to be now settled in their new island, and the fact that there are now literal aliens living here alongside them still seems incredible.

Luis hugs them both tight as he says goodbye, and neither of them mind. More surprising is her stepfather hugging tighter once he’s gone, before saying, “Remember, Cassie, when we’re still here, we have to live our lives. You can’t forget about that.”

“I know,” she says, and she does. She’s lived it this past year, and she’s tried to live it right.

Back in her bedroom, the work she was doing is still loaded up on her StarkPad. Just a little more, she’s sure, and then at last she’ll be done for the night.