[A/N]: Here's your weekly bonus chapter! And with this, the Enhancement Arc officially comes to an end.
I know the ending wasn't everyone's favorite when it was happening, but now that you can see the full picture, what do you guys think? Was it to your liking? What could have been done better?
I'm here to learn, so let me know your thoughts. Just keep it constructive - no trolling, please. Real feedback helps me grow as a writer and makes the story better for everyone.
Thanks for sticking with me through this arc. Looking forward to hearing what you think!
Outside, the cool night air hit Jay's face like a slap. He breathed it in deep, trying to wash the taste of burnt bridges out of his mouth. Bobby and Domino flanked him as they walked across the Baxter Building's back lot, their footsteps echoing off the concrete.
Then Jay saw his car.
"Jesus Christ," he breathed, stopping dead in his tracks. "My car..."
The sleek vehicle looked like it had gone ten rounds with the Hulk and lost every single one. The hood was crumpled into abstract art, both doors hung at impossible angles, and what used to be the windshield was now a spider web of safety glass held together by sheer stubbornness. One wheel was completely missing, and the other three pointed in directions that defied basic geometry.
For some reason, seeing his destroyed ride was the final straw. After everything, the lies, the betrayals, the necessary cruelties, watching every friendship he'd built crumble to dust, his totaled car nearly brought him to his knees.
"That was a nice car," Bobby said quietly, like he was offering condolences at a funeral.
"Sixty-seven Shelby GT500," Jay managed, his voice thick. "My dream car. I was so happy the day I finally got it—" He stopped, realizing how stupid it sounded to mourn a car when he'd just lost everything that mattered.
"Easy there, Doc," Bobby said gently, resting a weathered hand on his shoulder. "Metal can be replaced. I brought my own ride anyway."
They started toward Bobby's pickup truck, but after a few steps, Jay realized Domino wasn't with them anymore. He turned to see her standing perfectly still in the shadows between two dumpsters, like she'd grown roots.
"Dom? Come on, let's go."
She didn't move. Didn't even acknowledge he'd spoken.
"Domino, why aren't you getting in the truck?" His voice carried the exhaustion. "Are you angry at me, too? For the whole secret identity thing?"
"No." Her voice was barely above a whisper, so quiet he almost missed it.
"Then what—" Jay moved toward her, real concern creeping into his voice. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen Dom this still. She was always in motion, always ready to move, always prepared for trouble. "Dom, why won't you look at me?"
When he gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, he saw they were red-rimmed and full of tears she'd been holding back for who knew how long.
"Dom, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" The words tumbled out in a rush. "We can go back to Reed's medical lab, or I can check you over myself, or—"
"No." She shook her head, pulling away from his touch like it burned. "Jay, when you were about to get hit by that cosmic ray blast... it was my turn to save someone I care about." Her voice cracked like ice under pressure. "But my powers failed you. I failed you."
Jay stared at her, pieces of a puzzle he hadn't known existed suddenly clicking into place. "Dom—"
"I've been alone since I was a kid," she continued, the words pouring out like water through a burst dam. "And I loved it that way. Nobody to worry about, nobody to let down, nobody to lose sleep over. Then you came crashing into my life with that stupid grin and those terrible jokes, and at first, it was just business. Easy money, you know? Then it got fun. Then..."
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her makeup.
"Then it became something I'd never felt before. Not for anybody. Not even for myself."
Jay felt his heart breaking all over again, but for entirely different reasons this time.
"When I saw you lying there on that table with the machines beeping and that flatline..." Domino's voice went hollow, like she was talking from the bottom of a well. "When my powers, the one thing I've always been able to count on, failed when you needed them most... it broke something inside me that I didn't even know could break."
"Dom, listen to me—"
"I'm better off alone," she said firmly, cutting him off with the finality that felt like a coffin lid slamming shut. "And now that this whole enhancement thing is done, I'm free from our deal too."
"But I can help you," Jay said desperately, his voice cracking. "Maybe I can tweak your powers just like I did for Hank and Ben. Maybe I can give you real control instead of needing constant danger. You could have a normal life, Dom. You could—"
"Stop." Domino smiled then, sad and beautiful and final as a sunset. "Just... stop."
She reached into her leather jacket and pulled out something small and metallic. A battered and bloodied quarter, its edges worn smooth by countless tosses and years of being carried in pockets. She pressed it into his palm, and it was ice cold despite the blood.
"Keep this safe," she whispered. "This coin saved your life. When Doom was about to put an end to us, it came like a bullet to his skull."
Jay's enhanced memory kicked in, analyzing the coin's unique markings and flooding him with recollections. Their first encounter, the way he'd casually flipped this exact quarter in irritation when he copied her powers briefly, how it had bounced off a fire escape at just the right angle.
"Seems like you're gonna need all the luck you can get where you're heading," she continued, stepping back like she was pulling away from something that might explode.
More memories cascaded through his mind. Their first meeting at the diner. Every date, every close call, every joke about her "good luck."
"The thing is," Domino continued, her voice getting stronger but sadder, "if my feelings for you stay the same, and you keep getting yourself hurt, which you will 'cause I know the path you've chosen, I'll break again. And next time, I don't think I'll be able to put the pieces back together."
She stepped forward and hugged him then, quick and fierce, like she was trying to memorize the feeling of her arms around him.
"Goodbye, Jay."
"Dom, wait—"
But she was already walking away, her pale skin making her look like a ghost disappearing into the shadows between buildings. She paused just long enough to give Bobby an awkward wave.
"Take care of him, Bobby. He's gonna need it more than he knows."
And then she was gone, swallowed up by New York like she'd never been there at all.
Jay stood there in the alley, staring at the quarter in his palm. Under his enhanced senses, he could see every scratch, every wear mark, every tiny detail that told the story of their relationship.
This quarter's been working overtime for me.
Then the irony of it all crashed over him like a tidal wave.
Domino's luck powers had been protecting him all along through this one simple quarter. Even when she thought her abilities had failed, even when she felt like she'd let him down, she'd been saving his life without even knowing it.
Jay's knees buckled, and he sank down right there in the alley, the quarter clutched in his trembling hands. The laughter started first—bitter, hollow laughter at the joke of it all. Then the tears came, hot and angry, because he'd been so damn stupid. He'd pushed everyone away trying to protect them, and lost the one person who'd actually been protecting him all along.
"God, I'm such an idiot," he choked out, his voice cracking like a teenager's. "She was saving me this whole time and I didn't even—" He couldn't finish the sentence. The weight of it all crashed down, every choice he'd made, every bridge he'd burned, every person he'd hurt while telling himself it was for their own good.
"The luck was hers all along," he whispered to the quarter, his voice raw. "Even when she thought her powers were failing, she was still saving me. She never failed. Not once. But I failed her. I failed everyone."
Bobby stood over him, watching this brilliant, complicated kid fall apart in an alley. The old vet had seen this before, not the superhero stuff, but the look. That hollow-eyed stare of someone who'd convinced themselves they were doing the right thing, only to watch it all crumble. Pride and good intentions, Bobby knew, could destroy a man just as surely as bullets.
"Shit, kid," Bobby muttered, crouching down beside him. His joints popped in protest. "You really went and fucked this up, didn't you?"
Jay's breath hitched, his shoulders shaking as he wiped his nose on his sleeve like he was twelve years old again. The quarter left an indent in his palm from how hard he was gripping it.
"I've been where you are," Bobby continued, his voice rough. "Thought I knew better than everyone else. Lost people because of it. The thing is, you can either sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or you can figure out how to not be such a dumbass next time." He spat into the gutter. "Your call, Doc."
When Jay remained silent, lost in his spiral of self-recrimination, Bobby just sighed.
"It's gonna be okay, kid," Bobby said quietly, his voice carrying the kind of certainty that only came from surviving your own personal hell. "Somehow, some way, it's gonna be okay."
But sitting there in the alley behind the Baxter Building, holding the quarter that represented everything he'd just lost—Dom's love, the heroes' trust, the simple joy of belonging somewhere—Jay wasn't sure he believed that anymore.
The cruel irony wasn't lost on him. He'd gotten what he came for. Ben's humanity restored. Hank's powers refined. He'd gotten his enhancement. But thinking of Rogue denying him the chance to cure her again broke him all over.
He'd just had to burn every bridge he'd ever built to do it.
And for the second time since arriving in this universe, the question haunted him: What next?
[A/N]: I write across multiple fandoms. Support my writing and get early access to 45+ chapters, exclusive content, and bonus material at my P@treon - Max_Striker.