New York – Carter Residence
Sunlight filtered lazily through the curtains, painting the room in warm, golden hues. The air was filled with a tranquil silence, broken only by the soft breathing of two women.
Ethan Carter stirred. He slowly opened his eyes to find a cascade of red hair draped across his face, tickling his nose. He moved to brush it away, only to discover something: he couldn't move his arms.
A glance downward confirmed the reason.
Jean Grey was curled tightly against his left side, her arms wrapped around his chest like he was her personal pillow. One leg hooked over his own, locking him in place like a sleepy octopus.
Anna—on the other side—held his right hand in a firm grip, her head resting on his shoulder, leg thrown casually over his waist. Both of them were completely naked, snuggled beneath a single blanket, limbs intertwined with his like they were trying to fuse into one.
Ethan blinked. 'Well… this isn't new.'
He exhaled softly and used a small pulse of telekinesis to gently lift the red strands from his face without disturbing Jean. Then, with surgical precision, he pried himself loose from the human cuddle trap.
Jean murmured something in her sleep and tightened her grip around the pillow she'd been left with, a small smile forming on her lips. Anna rolled over and tugged the blanket over herself with a satisfied hum.
Ethan smiled faintly. 'They really wore themselves out last night.'
The memories of the night returned to him in vivid detail.
After returning from the DC Universe, he'd landed at the Carter Residence, his original home in this timeline. Didi and Diana had gone off to explore—Didi being curious about how this universe compared to her own.
Not long after, Ethan had sent a quick mental message to Jean to let her know he was back.
She didn't hesitate.
One portal later, she'd practically tackled him like a missile with a heartbeat. Months of separation had left both of them starved for touch. Their reunion was a storm—wild, needy, endless.
And when Anna joined the reunion halfway through?
Yeah, there was no sleeping for anyone until dawn. The "night battle," as Ethan called it, had left its glorious scars on both girls.
Ethan rubbed his temples. 'I swear Jean's stamina has quadrupled. I'm going to ask her if she's secretly leveled up like a video game character.'
He waved a hand and a black T-shirt and navy-blue pajama pants materialized on his body, snapping into place like magic—because it was.
Then came the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom door.
He turned just as it opened to reveal Diana—arms crossed, dressed in a white top and blue jeans beneath a stylish jacket, looking far too smug for a demigoddess.
She leaned against the doorframe, eyebrow raised. "Rough night?"
Ethan arched an eyebrow. "Define rough. If you're asking if I'm spiritually fulfilled, then yes. Besides, You've got the look of someone who's about to lecture me on diplomacy while standing next to my very naked girlfriends."
She peeked over his shoulder, grinning. "You're lucky I didn't bring popcorn."
Ethan snorted. "You can always join next time. But fair warning—It might leave you completely exhausted."
Diana smirked. "Let's leave that for later. You've got a visitor."
Ethan frowned. "Visitor?"
"An old friend and a Redhead. Ring any bells?"
Ethan sighed. "Oh. That redhead."
They walked down the hallway, Diana leading the way. Ethan could already sense the presence in the living room.
There sat Didi, cheerfully chatting with none other than Natasha Romanoff, legs crossed, dressed in civilian attire—but the posture screamed spy mode active.
The two were sipping coffee like old friends. Didi laughed at something Natasha said, while Natasha looked completely at ease—though her eyes, as always, were sharp.
Ethan strolled in, clapping his hands lightly.
"Well, well, look who crawled out of the spy graveyard," he said before flashing a smug smile. "Natasha Romanoff in my living room. Should I be flattered or check for bugs?"
Natasha turned, equally smirking. "Welcome back, Mr. Carter. I half expected to find you tanning on Mars."
Ethan dropped into the armchair across from her. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. had satellites on Mars, you could've called. Saved me the surprise."
He leaned back as Diana sat beside him, stretching out like she owned the couch. Didi casually poured Ethan some coffee and floated it into his hand.
Ethan took a sip, never breaking eye contact with Natasha. "So," he said. "What does the legendary Black Widow want with my humble abode? Hoping to recruit me? Or are we here to discuss the part where you acted as a spy in my company?"
Natasha's expression didn't flicker. "Fury's dead."
Ethan deadpaned while sipping his coffee. "Okay. And?"
Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Not the reaction I was expecting."
Ethan raised a single finger. "First of all, just because I'm a powerful telepath, doesn't mean I'm a mind-raping maniac like a certain bald bastard with a hoverchair."
He waved his cup in the air for emphasis.
"Second—Fury being dead is a spy-level problem, not mine." He leaned forward slowly.
Natasha sighed. "I won't defend it. But I'm not here to play spy games, Ethan. I need help. And you're the only one with the power and freedom to do something about this."
Ethan leaned back, fingers steepled. "Help with what? Planning a funeral? Because I can resurrect him, you know. Might come back with a third eye and a craving for squirrel meat, but hey—minor side effects."
Nat gave him a hard stare. "Just five seconds of seriousness—is that too much to ask?"
"Alright, you've got my curiosity. Let's see if you can buy my interest."
Ethan sipped the last of his coffee, savoring the warmth as Natasha Romanoff leaned forward, her expression more serious.
"You remember two years ago," she began, "when you tipped us off about Hydra infiltration in S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
He didn't mean to say it back then—it just slipped off his tongue, but Ethan gave a subtle nod.
Natasha continued, voice heavy. "Fury didn't take it lightly. He began a slow and quiet dig—deep background checks, off-record interviews, covert surveillance. He suspected we were compromised, but… the extent of it?"
She looked at him, "Almost ninety-five percent of S.H.I.E.L.D. was Hydra."
Ethan raised an eyebrow, whistling low. "That's not infiltration. That's a takeover."
"Exactly," she said. "And it went right to the top. Alexander Pierce—Hydra executive. Fury kept his findings quiet… until last week. He made contact with me—briefly. Sent a coded message. It was the last I heard from him."
She paused, then dropped the real bomb.
"Yesterday… he was killed. Official reports say 'accident,' but you and I both know how accidents work in this business."
Ethan didn't answer immediately.
He leaned back into the couch, eyes darkening. His mind drifted—two years. That's how long he'd been away in the DC Universe.
But not without progress.
Thanks to his previous visits, he had a decent understanding of what was going on around him.
And Jean had already shared the global developments with him via telepathy—like an information dump downloaded straight into his mind.
Aeon Biotech, his company, had been making breakthroughs.
The Immune+ Protocol, as Jean called it—a project to increase immunity power in humans and molecular regeneration tech—had finally reached human trial stage. The results were astonishing. Emma Frost herself had given it the green light, and that woman didn't throw praise lightly.
And then there was Susan Storm—the Invisible Woman herself.
After calling off her wedding and taking a hiatus from the hero gig, she'd joined Aeon Biotech as a research consultant. She'd focused on the X-Gene Correction Project, aimed at helping mutants whose mutations had physically disfigured them. Progress was slow… but meaningful.
Meanwhile, Tony Stark's origin story played out nearly the same. Kidnapped. Built the Iron Man armor. Took out Stane. Lived to tell the tale.
Ethan was relieved. The butterfly effect hadn't rewritten Iron Man's arc—his favorite hero still had his legacy intact.
And Magneto? Well, that was a shocker.
The man was trying to redeem himself.
Voluntarily surrendering. Working to save humans and mutants alike. Preparing for court hearings.
He was definitely on to something.
Ethan blinked back to the present as Natasha dropped a file onto the table.
"This isn't just about Fury," she said. "There's something else. Something I figured might finally make you move."
He raised an eyebrow, then opened the folder.
Old-style printed documents. No soft copies. No network. Just analog, old-school spycraft.
Smart.
As he skimmed through the pages, his eyes narrowed slightly. His smirk vanished.
It was a genealogical record.
His lips moved as he read, "Margaret Carter... Sharon Carter... Ethan Carter... Bloodline confirmed... maternal connection..."
Natasha leaned back. "You're a Carter. A real Carter. Peggy Carter's direct relative. Sharon Carter is your cousin."
Ethan closed the file, exhaled slowly, and gave Natasha a small smile. "Well… that's one hell of a loyalty bait."
She didn't flinch. "I've observed you, Ethan. You may joke, you may act above it all—but you care. For your people. For your family. You always come through when it matters."
Ethan gave her a long look. "I could scan your mind to see if you're lying."
"Go ahead," she said calmly. "But I know you won't. Because I'm not."
He didn't. Instead, he placed the file on the table, fingers tapping lightly on the edge.
'Of course I knew,' he thought to himself.
Ever since he transmigrated into a body named Ethan Carter, the first thing he'd done—after stabilizing—was to trace any and all family ties. It had taken years. He hadn't had the power back then to dig deep.
But now? With his telepathy, chronokinesis, and dimensional awareness?
He knew the truth months ago.
Peggy Carter was his great-aunt—his grandfather's sister. That made Sharon Carter his cousin by blood.
He never acted on it because there hadn't been a reason to. Until now.
Natasha's eyes flicked to his. "She's alive. Hydra has her. I couldn't risk a direct rescue. If Hydra realizes I know, they'll move her or worse."
Ethan finally stood up, cracking his neck.
Diana, who had stayed quiet so far, glanced at him. "This Nick Fury… I take it he's someone important to your world?"
Natasha nodded. "Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Tough bastard. Paranoid. Secretive. But always five steps ahead."
Diana's brows lowered.
Ethan turned his head slightly toward Natasha. "And you believe he's really dead?"
There was a pause. "...I think there's a chance he survived. He's done it before."
Ethan's eyes sparkled. "Good."
He casually raised a hand, his index finger glowing with soft red light. "Let's ask him ourselves."
He traced a circle in the air, crimson energy forming a spinning portal.
As the vortex stabilized, it opened to reveal the inside of a dimly lit, dingy apartment.
A figure sat at a table, munching on a burger with one hand and nursing a bandaged shoulder with the other.
He was grumbling something under his breath when the portal burst into being—and four faces stared at him.
Nick Fury looked up, mid-bite.
Burger frozen halfway to his mouth.
His one good eye widened. "...Motherfu—"
He choked slightly on his burger and instinctively reached for his sidearm. He pointed the gun before realizing who he was facing.
"Ethan?" he muttered, confused. "Romanoff? The distinct cousin? And… who the hell is the goth girl?"
Didi waved cheerfully.
Ethan looked at Fury flatly. "Really, Nick? A burger and a shitty safehouse? That's how the great spymaster fakes his death?"
Fury wiped his mouth and grumbled, "Some of us don't have mansions and money to burn, Carter."
Natasha stepped forward. "You better have a good reason for playing dead. Because Hydra's already set their pieces."
Fury stood up slowly. "I had to disappear. The second Pierce figured I was onto him, I went underground. If I stayed visible, they'd wipe out everyone I've got left."
Ethan crossed his arms. "So… let me guess. You left just enough breadcrumbs for the redhead to come running and tug at my heartstrings?"
Fury gave him a dry stare. "You're still as smug as ever."
"And you're still alive," Ethan replied. "Congratulations. Now tell me where they're keeping Sharon."
Fury's gaze darkened. "I don't know the exact facility. But I've narrowed it down to a Hydra stronghold in Eastern Europe. Hidden under a decommissioned Soviet nuclear site."
Ethan's smirk returned. "Great. Nothing says family reunion like kicking Nazi knock-offs into radioactive craters."
Natasha stepped beside him. "So… you're in?"
Ethan turned toward her, eyes gleaming. "I was always in when it comes to kick some ass."
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Author's Note:
Hey everyone, I'm back! How's it going?
Sorry for not updating these past few days—life's been rough, as it sometimes is. When I returned and saw two 2-star reviews, I'll be honest… I seriously considered dropping this story.
But the truth is, I really enjoy writing this fanfic, and I want to keep going. So if you're enjoying it too, please consider leaving a review—it really motivates me to keep writing and improving.
As for my Wolverine fanfic, I'll try to post an update for that tomorrow—assuming work doesn't get in the way.
Thanks for sticking around.