SEPTEMBER  YEAR THREE 436 "Backlash" by Adam Di Stefano, with Scott Harris

And there came a day, a day unlike any other, when Earth's mightiest heroes and heroines found themselves united against a common threat. On that day, the Avengers were born-- to fight the foes no single super hero could withstand! Through the years, their roster has prospered, changing many times, but their glory has never been denied! Heed the call, then-- for now, the  Avengers Assemble!

Edwin Jarvis walked through the halls of Avengers Mansion. They felt terribly empty. It was times like this that the butler enjoyed the least. The feeling of being alone in a place as big the mansion was frightening to begin with. When the mansion has been home to many momentous battles over the course of the years, that fright is amplified.

Yet, the Avengers were home. They were in the Mansion. Actually, they were in the sub-basement which was probably why the place felt so lonely.

All of the Avengers were gathered in the various infirmeries. They had saved the world at the cost of their own personal well-beings. It was nothing new, but everytime the thought that someone could easily have died was frightening.

Jarvis made his way down to the main infirmery with his tray. Tea and biscuits were well placed all along it.

The Masters must be hungry after all they've been through, Jarvis thought.

He walked into the large room to see Dr. Kincaid working on Quasar's ribs.

"OUCH!" the blonde hero yelped.

"There we go, all done."

Wendell rubbed his sore ribs. "Thank you Doctor. How long do I have to wait before I can get out there again."

"I would say at least a month."

"I'm afraid that's too long. I have some unfinished business that needs to be dealt with and I don't want to wait that long," Wendell replied.

With that he got up and walked out of the infirmery, giving Jarvis only a slight nod as he walked past him.

Dr. Kincaid guessed by the look on Jarvis' face what he was thinking. "They've all been acting strangely. Namor's more sour than usual, Cap is banged up pretty bad, Dr. A is lost on the moon most of the time, Ms. Marvel too."

"They've been through quite the ordeal."

"Nothing new. So, Jarv, you just going to stand there or are you going to offer me some tea?"

"Yes, of course. My apologies Doctor."

"No need to apologize Jarvis. After all you must be going out of your mind with all the action that's been going on around here."

"I rather enjoy seeing the Avengers West visit. It's always interesting when Master Hawkeye and USAgent are around."

"Yeah, add to that the Champions with Batroc and Hercules and you must have a blast," said Dr. Kincaid jokingly.

Jarvis cracked a small smile, but that was about it. "It's always good to see old friends. It's a shame they had to leave so soon."

"It's pretty amazing. Compared to the Avengers, the others seemed to come out of the battle pretty well."

"Indeed. Can I see any of your patients?"

"You can see all of them Jarvis. Most of them aren't going anywhere fast."

In the kitchen of the mansion, a badly burnt hero looks for something to drink.

Prince Namor, the Sub-Mariner had been looking through the Avengers' fridge for the past five minutes and had come to the conclusion that he had to ask Jarvis to get some better beverages.

Namor righted himself from his bent over position and closed the fridge, as he did that he felt the pain on his chest.  A direct hit from Count Nefaria's lazer eye beams was nothing to scoff at.  He was lucky to have gotten out of it all with just a burn. Still, the pain was present. Namor grimaced as he turned to leave the kitchen, but in his path was Carol Danvers.

Namor narrowly avoided walking into the blonde beauty.

"My apologies Ms. Marvel," he excused himself.

"It's okay. I was in your way."

To this, Namor said nothing. He merely grunted and nodded. He was about to walk off when Carol interrupted his exit.

"How are your injuries?" she asked.

"The burn will heal."

"I see."

Namor was dying in this awkward moment of silence. He struggled to find something to say. Finally he blurted out, "And your injuries? I trust you are doing well?"

"Oh, I'm fine. I didn't get hit nearly as bad as you."

Again, silence.

This time, Ms. Marvel took the opportunity to end it. "Look, Namor, I was just wondering...  why?"

Namor looked genuinely confused. "I'm afraid I do not know what you are referring to."

Carol sighed. She had hoped she wouldn't have had to explain herself.

"Why did you do it? Why did you jump in front of me when Nefaria took his shot."

Namor found himself caught off-guard by the question. He was not used to being caught off-guard.

Quickly, the Atlantean Prince composes himself and answers coldly, "It was simple strategy."

"Strategy?"

"That is correct. Strategy. Your powers would have been more useful than mine in trying to combat Nefaria. Had you been taken out of the fight, the Avengers would have lost more firepower than if it had been I."

"So then...  you did it for the team?" Carol asked somewhat taken aback by the general coolness in Namor's voice.

"I did it for the victory. Had we lost that battle, the world would have been at an incredible risk. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off."

Without another word, Namor turned and swept out of the room leaving Ms. Marvel slightly mystified.

Steve Rogers sat behind his desk in his office. He was sore, and Dr. Kincaid had told him he needed his rest, but the doctor didn't have to deal with the paperwork that came with being Avengers chairperson.

There was a knock at Captain America's door and Steve looked up to see Ms. Marvel in the doorframe.

"Steve, we need to talk."

"Sure. Have a seat Carol. Let me just sort this out and I'll be right with you."

Ms. Marvel took a seat across the desk from Cap. She watched as he worked and noted that he looked good behind a desk. Perhaps not at home, but definitely good. Like one of those smooth politicians.

'Then again,' Ms. Marvel thought, 'I always think Steve looks good.'

Steve finally finished sorting his papers and devoted his attention to Carol. "So, Carol, what can I do for you?" he asked with his hands clasped and leaning on his elbows on the desk.

"Well, I think we need to talk."

Cap grimaced visibly. Whenever anyone said "we need to talk" it was never good news. Weren't those the words that the Beast had used just before he announced he was leaving the team? *

(* Back in Avengers #433 -ADS)

"About what, Carol?"

"It's about Namor."

Cap's expression remained one of concern. "Are his injuries worse than I thought? Does he need time off?"

"Well, not quite."

Cap was looking confused. He wanted to hear Ms. Marvel out, but he had so much work to do...

"So then what is it?" Cap asked as he started rummaging through a pile of papers on the corner of his desk.

"Do you remember during the battle against the Disciples, when Nefaria shot at me, Namor got in the way?"

Cap nodded absently, "He's a good man. Took one for the team."

"The team?" Carol asked in shock.

"Of course. He knew you had a better chance against Nefaria than he did," Cap answered, still only half-devoted to the conversation.

Ms. Marvel shook her head beginning to get annoyed, "No, that's not it. I think Namor has feelings for me."

Steve Rogers' attention had finally been caught. Putting aside the papers once more, he asked, "What makes you say that?"

"He's been acting strangely around me, and now that sacrifice play. You can keep insisting it was all strategy, but I don't buy it. I know something's going on."

"I think you're reading too much into this."

Carol Danvers' legendary temper was coming to a fore as she began fuming. "Steve, aren't you at least mildly jealous or protective! I know what's going on, Namor's feelings could have profound effects. And you! You! You don't even look the least bit worried because his actions were a good battle strategy!"

By this point Carol was standing up, her voice raised to a shout. Cap rose from his seat and tried to calm the blonde beauty.

"Okay, okay, Carol. If it makes you feel better, I'll talk to Namor," he said as he walked around the desk and slid an arm around her waist.

He led her to the door of the office and she smiled, "Thank you, Steve."

"No problem, now, I just have a few more things to take care of," he said as he released her just outside the office and then re-entered closing the door behind her.

Steam shot from Carol's ears.

"Steve Rogers," she muttered to herself, "This is one lady who's not going to let herself be a second priority."

The Submariner was flipping channels in the Avengers' rarely used living room when he spotted Captain America approaching him in full uniform.

Namor watched the man approach with mixed emotions. On one hand, he had been a valued ally and friend for years before the Avengers had even formed. His courage was legendary, his presence inspiring. On the other hand, he was the man who held the hand of the lady which Namor sought. This made him the target of the terrible green-eyed monster.

"Good day, Namor," Captain America greeted the Atlantean.

Namor for his part, nodded.

Cap stopped next to his old friend and crossed his arms, making no move to sit down. He was in full costume, his shield strapped to his back.

"I was talking to Ms. Marvel earlier this morning, and she thought that perhaps you had some feelings for her. I was wondering how you felt about this," said the Captain, getting straight to the point.

Namor seethed. So, the brash fool had decided to confront him. And in full combat gear no less!

"Is that a challenge, Captain!" he yelled as he jumped up from the couch.

Captain America set his jaw. "I don't know what you're talking about, Namor, but if I were you, I would watch my tone."

"You dare threaten the Submariner!"

Captain America didn't quite understand what was going on, but he knew he would not stand for this treatment.

"You're out of line, Namor."

"You are the one who approached me."

"You're the one who's after Carol!"

Immediately after saying that last line, Cap regretted it. He had let it slip in his anger.

Namor was red in the face, his anger had reached a critical level. One of his clenched fists reared back and then flew in Cap's direction.

Instinctively, Cap ducked and rolled out of the way, donning his shield as he did so. When he looked in Namor's direction though, he realized his actions had been useless.

Namor stood, breathing heavily, his muscles tense, and his fist still resting through a large hole in the wall. The Atlantean had never been aiming for Cap to begin with.

Namor withdrew his fist, and exited the room. He kept his back to Captain America the whole time.

Hank Pym was in his lab as usual. He wore his Yellowjacket costume with the mask removed. His current project was none other than himself. In the most recent battle with Nefaria, he was one of the first to go down. He knew it could have happened to anyone, and yet he still didn't like it.

There was a difference here though. Whereas in the past, Hank Pym would have become incrediby obsessed with his failure and would have tried to bury himself in his work, the new Hank Pym was taking this much more in stride.

Hank was finally beginning to realize that his life wasn't so bad. He had his sanity back, and he wasn't about to lose it again.

Hank Pym's attention returned to his stingers. His current Yellowjacket identity was his most powerful yet. He had the ability to grow, shrink, communicate with insects and had the stingers to boot. He was now just trying to increase the power of his stingers. IF he could control their power levels they could be much more formidable weapons.

Dr. Amazing almost stumbled into the lab. He grabbed his bandaged head and then steadied himself on a chair.

"Mark, you ought to be more careful. You don't need another concussion," Hank Pym said as he rushed to stabilize his team-mate.

"Thank you, Hank. I was just coming down to see how the Vision was doing."

"Well, then you're out of luck. I finished up with him this morning. He's probably the best off of the lot of us physically. Right now he's off doing whatever it is Vizh does," Hank smiled.

"Ah, well that's good to know," Dr. Amazing said as he sank into a chair.

Hank kept smile on as he regarded Dr. A. How odd it had been that he had been such an old friend and yet no one remembered him until his return. The Mind Alien's powers were truly formidable if they could make every Avenger forget the existence of one of their oldest friends.

Hank remembered some of the times they had spent together when something very odd happened. His memories of Dr. Amazing were gone. He couldn't remember anything before their most recent reunion.

Mark Amazing was having one of those flashes of pain that his injury caused him every once in a while. He rubbed his temples until the pain began to subside.

Then, suddenly, Hank began remembering numerous battles in which Dr. Amazing had helped the Avengers defeat great threats.

Hank shook his head. 'I must be working too hard,' he thought.

"Wow, Hank, I tell you, I think this head injury might be the worst I've ever been hit with."

"Well, I don't know about that. Remember the time you were in a full upper-body cast!"

The pair began to laugh out loud. Mark grabbed his head again in pain, between chuckles, laughing hurt.

Once again Hank Pym had an odd sensation wash over him and he could no longer remember the time when Dr. Amazing had been put in a full body cast.

Mark waited a few moments and the pain began to subside again. "Laughing hurts," he said.

Hank noticed that as he said this, his memories flooded over him once more. 'Something's definitely not right here,' Hank thought. 'I have a strange feeling about all of this, but I don't think it's a good idea to talk to anyone else about it yet in case I'm wrong.'

"Mark, why don't we get you to Dr. Kincaid and see if everything's okay."

"Steve, we need to talk," Carol Danvers said as she chased Steve Rogers down the hall.

"Not now, Carol." Captain America answered her as though he were brushing away a pesky secretary.

Carol planted herself in her partner's path and didn't move.

"I'm in no mood for games, Carol," Cap stated, still seething from his encounter with Namor.

"You think this is a game? Is that all this is to you, a game?!"

Captain America grabbed his head. He couldn't take this. He could go toe to toe with Dr. Doom anyday, but this, this was just too much for him.

"Did you talk to Namor?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

Captain America didn't answer.

"What did he say?"

From the ceiling a wraith-like figure appeared, and the Vision descended into the hallway.

"Captain America, I was on monitor duty when I detected a disturbance in the living area. Upon investigation, there is a hole in the East wall, but no other sign of anomalies."

The pair in the hallway paid the Vision no heed.

"What did he say, Steve?"

Still, Steve Rogers could not bring himself to respond.

"Fine, I guess I'll just talk to him myself. Vision, where's Namor, right now?"

"Namor is not on the Mansion grounds," the synthezoid replied.

"Then where is he?"

Captain America finally spoke, "Namor has taken a leave of the Avengers."