Chasing Horizons



Chapter Seven

DISCLAIMER :: This tale is relative to Captain Marvel from the comics, movies, and television from Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. There are some glaring differences, so this is a derivative work rather than straight-up fanfiction.


Author's note: Welcome back to the tale of Capt. Danvers! I hope that everyone has refreshed themselves in the couple of weeks since the end of Webs We Weave. In the spirit of transparency, this is not my best chapter. The first part probably needs a rewrite, but the second is somewhat pertinent. Let me know how it goes, guys.

(( Chapter Theme: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CQ_QMBnblXg ))

Part of me was very reluctant because I had no idea what these “tests” entailed. The first thing Madison asked me was “comic book or movie”. There are very specific things I have ever been “nerdy” about. Comic books were never one of them. They’re a fine medium and the artists that make them are talented, but they’re not for me. My decision was “movie”. With that, Madison, Chris, and I carefully climbed off the roof and into Madison’s bedroom. From there, we moved downstairs. Madison announced we were going to watch a movie to the entire household. Everyone eventually found their way into the family room. I’ve never understood the need for two rooms to put couches in. There again, I’ve never had a family so the significance of such things went over my head.

In days long gone, that room used to be a disaster. The girls’ toys used to be just about everywhere. The carpet had been replaced but it used to have stains from when Olivia was just a toddler. It was the room that brought out all the stops in entertainment for the Kent family. The television was bigger than the one in the living room and it had a surround sound system. The big sectional couch that lined the perimeter wall had more than enough seating for everyone. The blackout curtains could be drawn and popcorn brought in from the kitchen just across the way. Preparations for the movie viewing started very quickly. Laura and Hannah darted into the kitchen for popcorn and sodas. Chris positioned the blackout curtains so the room darkened considerably even in the middle of the afternoon. Madison turned on the TV and navigated to the family’s Disney+ account.

Olivia plopped down next to me on the couch, then looked me up and down. “Who are you?”

“Uncle Sam.” I responded.

She nodded slowly. “Oh, okay. That tracks, I guess.”

Once again, I was completely bewildered about how the family was so nonchalant about me being five inches shorter and entirely female. Before I could read too much into it, Laura deposited a large bowl of popcorn into my lap and handed me two cans of Dr. Pepper. I accepted them gladly. Over the course of the next few minutes, everybody found a spot to settle into. When that happened, Madison hit the button and started the movie. There was commentary throughout the entire presentation.

At the opening Marvel Studios logo mere seconds into the film, Madison whimpered. “Stan Lee… still too soon.”

“The man was ninety-four years old, Madison. He lived a good, long life.” Chris shot back.

The first minute was a dream sequence and the aftermath of such. I nodded along. “Oh, yea. That’s PTSD. A lot of vets can relate to that.”

“You see the thing with her hand, though, Uncle Sam?” Madison asked.

“I’m taking mental notes.” I quipped before tossing a handful of popcorn in my mouth. Then, the sparring sequence happened and I shook my head. “What emotion? She’s not really showing anything.”

At the moment she blasted her sparring partner, Madison snapped and pointed at the screen. “That! You see her upper arm and everything?”

“Madison, your uncle already said mental notes are being taken. Enough with comments about her hands, please.” Laura interjected.

At the scene with the virtual simulation with the A.I. my head shook again. “I ask again, what emotion?” Later, when the squad started heading toward the transport, I smirked. “Oh, yea. We never strut in like that, but I’ve seen spec ops board a transport in a formation similar to that.”

“Strategically? Like, where they’re all in camera frame?” Hannah snickered at me.

“No, more like in a diamond formation. It’s a fire team defensive formation. You can cover all the angles that way. There’s almost never a camera involved.” Afterward, there was some squad banter and then the apparent squad leader, played by Jude Law, began the briefing. “Well, they nailed the operational squad briefing. Intel, objectives, and rules of engagement. I think they worked with the military on this.” Moments later, the assault began. “Oh, nice… air support… spec ops infiltration… oh, that exit from the landing craft is glorious… you see how they all swap to covert camouflage?”

“At least someone’s invested.” Hannah noted, taking a sip of soda.

“It’s solid squad tactics through this whole section. Get the high ground cover, fan out, establish a perimeter, and everybody knows their role in the operation. I’ve never done spec ops but I’ve transported a few fire teams in my time. Losing comms is a huge problem, though. You can’t coordinate if you can’t communicate. They should be using hand signals, at least.”

We all went quiet through the action sequence. At least, until the hanger doors opened. One glance at the flight suits and I rolled my eyes.

“Geez… Chair Force?! Really?” I groaned dramtically. “At least they got the patches right.”

“It’s part of her story, Uncle Sam. Carol Danvers was an Air Force fighter pilot.” Madison informed me. “Higher, further, faster is her whole shtick. It’s in the comics.”

When she fell off the ropes, I winced. “Oh, yea, she should be dead.” Again, my eyes rolled at the ‘cockpit’ comment. “Okay, I know being a fighter pilot is a boys’ club, but the ‘cockpit’ thing is not accurate.”

“He’s hazing her, right?” Hannah asked.

“No, he’s being a dick. I don’t know when this is set, but there was some real resistance to female fighter pilots for the longest time. It was federally illegal, for one.” was my answer.

“It’s set in 1995, Sam.” Chris noted.

“Okay, that makes sense. Congress allowed women to fly in combat in 1991. Most branches started allowing it in 1993 after they established some rules. The Chair Force trained their first female fighter pilot in that year. The first combat-capable Marine pilot came in 1995. She flew helicopters. The first female marine fighter pilot didn’t engage in a combat mission until 2002, even then it was as the Weapons Systems Officer. Basically the same thing ‘Goose’ was in Top Gun – meaning she was a rear-seater. When does that memory take place, then?”

“One, thank you for the history lesson, Sam. It’s good for the girls to know that many of the rights they enjoy now are much more of a recent phenomenon than they might have been aware of.” Laura commented. “Second, the movie explains it. I think they’re taking some artistic license with the timeline to make everything work.”

“Good to go. I’ll shut up and watch, then.” I chuckled. My eyes actually shot open during the fight scene when she finally gets the metal things off her hands. “Okay, that was cool.” Then, she uses whatever’s coming out of her hands as thrust. “That’s pretty smart. Newtonian physics.”

Hannah laughed when she shot the screen. “Right there with you, girl!”

Chris’ eyebrows raised. “Nice. They got the reentry plasma effects pretty accurate.”

“How do you know that, exactly?” Laura asked.

“I’ve actually experienced them. Long story. Scientifically, we’ve known about that particular aspect of atmospheric fluid friction since the Mercury program, but they’re seldom considered in science fiction.”

“A history lesson and a science lesson? I did not have that on my movie night Bingo card.” Hannah rolled her eyes.

“It’s the middle of the day.” Olivia stuck her tongue out at her sister.

“Figure of speech, half pint.” Hannah returned the gesture.

The family banter was really heartwarming. At one time, I could have had something like this. I was hoping to. And then…

“Blockbuster!” Laura laughed. “Remember going there on Friday nights when we were kids, Sam? Mom made a whole presentation of it. We had to get the popcorn and everything.”

Meekly nodding, I focused on the movie in an effort to tune out the things around me that I still wished I had. I have always loved coming to visit Laura, Chris, and the kids. It’s always given me a taste of the family life Laura and I didn’t really have growing up. We both wanted to create that for ourselves. She succeeded. I didn’t. Even without ever having set foot in a psychotherapist’s office, I knew deep down that I always hid behind my Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. It wasn’t just the emblem for my branch of service. It was the shield I used to hide behind — no conceivable torture method would ever achieve the goal of getting me to admit that out loud. The commentary continued around me.

“Dude! Leave Arnold alone! True Lies is a good movie!” Madison objected.

“The Right Stuff. Good movie, but there were 13 women that were more qualified but weren’t allowed to be astronauts because they didn’t let women be test pilots at the time.” Chris informed the rest of us.

“Radio Shack! Oh, this is such nostalgia bait!” Laura squeaked a laugh.

“Interesting thing they did with the surfer girl. It’s her, but it’s still the green guy’s voice. Is that how you feel sometimes, Dad? Uncle Sam?” Hannah wondered.

Madison, perceptive as she was, paused the movie. “Kind of a heavy hit, Hannah.”

Chris took a deep breath. “It is a heavy hit, but somewhat accurate. I can only speak for myself, but the voice coming out of my mouth right now isn’t the one in my head when I think. And… y’know… sometimes I feel like an imposter.”

I had to think over the question for a good, long moment. Letting out a quick breath, I finally spoke, “A little, yea. I’m still me. The packaging got changed without my consent.”

Seeing the expressions on the faces of Chris and I, Hannah apologized. “Sorry, guys. I’m still trying to get it, okay?”

Chris smiled at his daughter. “It’s okay to not have all the answers, Hannah. Lord knows, your mother and I have been faking like we did for years, now.”

A small volley of popcorn flew into Chris’ face. “You’re not supposed to tell them that, Kristen!” Laura laughed.

A record scratch echoed between my ears. “Wait… Chris, you changed your name?”

He nodded. “It’s a secret identity and ‘blending in’ thing I elected to do, Sam. It didn’t really make sense to keep being called ‘Christopher’ looking like this. There’s other factors as well. The name itself was my mother’s idea. I guess you could say that I’m adapting.”

The whole idea of it floored me. My brother-in-law had adopted a feminine name to go along with the consequences of the change. I did not peg him for the kind of guy that would do that. He was never all that macho, but this whole concept was kind of next level.

“Intermission over.” Madison announced, pressing ‘play’ once again. Thankfully, everyone agreed. The distraction of the action scenes was helping me immensely. The commentary started to lessen as we went along. That is, until Madison paused the movie again and we were subjected to a freeze-frame of a woman with red and black hair, glasses from rockabilly fandom, a red floral dress, and cream-colored cardigan. “That is Kelly Sue DeConnick, the comic book writer that put Carol Danvers’ Captain Marvel on the map. That omnibus I showed you earlier, Uncle Sam, was written by her.”

“It’s really good writing, too. I’m glad she got a movie cameo.” Chris added.

I nodded along as the nerds did their thing. The woman’s name meant nothing to me, but Madison seemed quite proud of herself. Mercifully, the movie began again in earnest. The banter continued as well, but the movie was interesting enough for me that I didn’t really hear anything. I think the main thing Madison wanted me to do was make a connection about the similarity of powers. However, it seemed like the main ability of Captain Marvel was that photon blast that came out of her upper arms and fists. I hadn’t witnessed that particular capability as of yet. The only thing I’d witnessed was the glowing upper arm and hand thing as well as the glowing St. Elmo’s Fire effect. They were similar to the character in the movie, but still different.

The conversation in the car between Carol and Fury struck a chord. It’s true that veterans know veterans. Combat veterans can sometimes tell themselves apart from non-combat veterans, but that gets a little too nitpicky to me. Of course, the entire situation felt like a bad joke: “A soldier and an airman drive a car onto a black site…”

I could not help myself when they got to the entrance. “All they have for security is a webcam and a thumb box? No security detail? No overwatch? The hell kinda black site is this? It’s like a ghost town!” After a few moments, someone within the site actually does appear. “Three dudes? That’s their security detail?”

With the arrival of the cat, Madison made a ‘tick’ sound with her mouth. “Cool name and all, but the cat is supposed to be named ‘Chewy’ and supposed to be female.”

“In this continuity, the cat was Lawson’s.” Chris countered. “It makes sense that maybe Lawson was more a fan of Top Gun and Carol’s a Star Wars kind of girl?”

Several minutes passed by before I spotted something on the screen. “Madison, pause it for a moment?” She complied while I examined the aircraft that the character was about to commandeer. “What is that aircraft?”

She and Chris both smirked. “That, Uncle Sam, is called a ‘Quadjet’, the prototype predecessor to the ‘Quinjet’ used by S.H.I.E.L.D. in the later films.”

“It’s a VTOL transport not unlike your Osprey, Sam. The exception being that there are big fans in the wings that facilitate the VTOL and the jets on the tail provide forward thrust in flight mode.” Chris added, somewhat speaking my language.

Instantly, my brain started making connections to the layout of the controls in this “Quadjet” and made comparisons. “She’s flying from the wrong seat. It’s a naval tradition that I don’t expect a Chair Force officer to get. I know as a fighter pilot she’s used to flying inline, but she’s doing side-by-side like someone who had to file Form ID-ten-tango. The TCL’s set wrong. How is she reaching those switches? It looks like she’s sitting a bit too low to even see out the forward portholes.”

To Fury’s question about being able to fly it, I actually answered out loud before Carol did. “Yes, I can, but she’s gonna be fighting that thing from the port side.”

“Remind me: what’s a T-C-L?” Laura inquired.

“Thrust control lever. It’s a more technical term than simply saying ‘throttle’.” Chris answered for me. He must have had some assignments that involved military or commercial aviation when he was a real journalist.

Even through the takeoff, I was at the edge of my seat providing commentary. “Don’t put your TCL into the instrument panel. Watch the collective!” I rolled my eyes when she pulled the stick back instead of transitioning to the rear engines. “The aircraft will level itself out if you give it enough thrust and slowly retract the flaps as you transition forward. Any rookie tiltrotor pilot can tell you that. This is entirely inaccurate but a great scene.”

Hannah side-eyed her mother. “Uncle Sam’s enjoying himself.”

More minutes in the movie passed as I found myself a bit more invested. The character really started to shine and show some genuine emotion. I did legitimately ask myself why I was identifying with a female character. It was momentarily confusing and fleeting. At that point in time, I hadn’t seen many of Marvel’s cinematic universe movies. A lot of context was lost on me. The intimate moments between Carol, her best friend, and the kid were resonating. My folks and I had been on a satisfying streak of not really talking or interacting with one another for many years. My marines or my sister’s family were surrogates for that. The theme of the entire section in the narrative seemed to be remembering who one is as a person above everything else. It was striking many chords.

The entire family burst into laughter when Fury and Carol responded with “Your ass.” in unison.

There was an explanation to some members of the family who didn’t understand what a “black box” was. With all these references to aviation, how had I not seen this movie, yet?

The moment Carol was blasted with energy, my gaze fell on the girl Chris had become. “Hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” He tightened his lips and nodded.

Why were tears traveling down my face as Carol said “I don’t even know who I am”? The speech from Maria absolutely did me in. Deep inside, there was a longing for a friend who knew me like that. I’ve been pushing people away and keeping them at arm’s length for years. Damn hormones had me crying.

The superhero movie was taking a very long time to get to the superhero part. I’m used to the concept of “hurry up and wait” but this was a bit much. The suit-up sequence was… different. When they were back in the aircraft – the Quadjet – at least Carol and Monica were seated correctly as pilot and co-pilot. My very invested eyes remained fixed on the screen going forward. Something in that second sequence with the Supreme Intelligence hit different – in a way I couldn’t really describe. The sequence of Carol getting up over and over… then being attacked by the Intelligence got me going.

What I didn’t notice was that in sync with Carol, that St. Elmo’s Fire effect started surrounding my body as well. I stood and cheered.

Everyone around me – except Chris – was a little freaked out. “Whoa!” they exclaimed in unison. I had to stop and glance at myself to see what they were seeing. Chris sat casually with a small smile playing on that female face of his. It took a few breaths to get everything under control again so the worried faces of the family went away.

“If not trained, they’re governed by emotions. Heck, even with training, you have to keep your emotions in check. Welcome to the club, Sam.” Chris advised.

The rest of the movie was pretty much a blur. I made mental notes of the things Carol was doing, but they barely registered. I could no longer run away from the fact that I was fundamentally different now. It wasn’t just the DNA or the physical metamorphosis I’d undergone. I had powers. Real superpowers. I couldn’t begin to guess my capabilities, but I think that’s one of the reasons Madison wanted me to see the movie: show me what was possible according to her hypothesis. The ending credits began and Madison turned off the television.

She shook her head. “The only reason to wait through the credits is to see the mid-credits and end-credits scenes. They won’t make any sense if you haven’t been following the MCU movies up to this point.”

Laura began to stand. “Kris, can you maybe take the girls upstairs or into the basement for a game or something?”

Chris also stood and nodded. “Sure, honey.”

“I wanna play Uno! They were playing it on the stairs and now I wanna.” Olivia announced.

Everybody chuckled while Chris ushered them out of the room. Their banter echoed through the house and the volume faded as they moved further away. Once the echoes were of sufficient low volume, Laura’s eyes turned to me.

“Want a beer or some wine?” She asked me, heading into the kitchen.

“Sure. I could go for a cold beer. Thanks.” I followed behind my sister.

Once in the kitchen area, she motioned to a small, round table with four chairs around it. Formal meals were consumed in the ajoining room that was toward the front of the house. Pulling out a chair, I executed what Chris might call a “Riker Maneuver” by swinging one leg over the chair and sitting backwards. It was a little more difficult with shorter legs, but not impossible. While she grabbed a beer for me and a glass of wine for herself, Laura was quiet. Even at the best of times, it was hard to know what might have been going through my sister’s head. She placed an open bottle of beer in front of me and slumped into the chair across from me, sipping on her wine.

“Today’s just been one long trip, hasn’t it?” She began the conversation.

“Yea, it really has. I know why it’s been trippy for me. Why’s it been trippy for you?”

She chuckled sardonically. “First, my husband turned into an almost identical twin of my eldest child a couple months ago. Now, my own brother looks like a goddamn mini-me. The universe has a really fucked up sense of humor.”

It wasn’t difficult to deduce why she’d requested Chris and the kids not be within earshot: she was letting her hair down around me. I was always the safe space where she didn’t have to wear a mask or play a role. She could really unwind and be her truest self.

“You’re taking this well, sis.” I mocked her.

“Oh, shut your trap, little brother.” She actually stuck her tongue out at me. “Enough about how I’m processing things terribly. How are you holding up?”

“Oh, you know me. I’m locking it up like a good Marine.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sam. We bathed naked together for six years. There’s no hiding anything after that.” She sighed hard after a longer sip of wine than maybe she should have taken. “I was watching you during the movie. You’re going through some shit, right now. Can’t say I blame you. I think if I became the same age as my kids, lost my boobs, and grew a dick I’d be more than a little fucked up. Powers or not.”

She was really punching right at the heart of the problem. “Jesus, Laura. Blunt much?”

She waved her arms around, motioning to the space around us. “Room, meet elephant. We would like to address you.” Then, she tilted her head to the side and glared at me like we’d seen in countless teen movies growing up.

The bottle met my lips and I tipped it back, taking a rather large gulp of the bitter, carbonated liquid. “How is it that you’re the only one that’s ever truly been able to see right through me so damn well?”

“One, I’m your big sister. Two, I pay attention.” She took another sip of wine. “We survived the same household, Sam. Pretty sure it’s a trauma bond thing.”

“You might be right.” I took another swig of beer to collect my thoughts. “I’m lost, Laura. Don’t know how to make heads or tails of anything. Part of me doesn’t really want to. I just want my life back the way it was on April 28th.”

“That makes two of us, but I’ve got some bad news: neither of us are going to get what we really want.” She let out an alarmingly long sigh. “I’m lost, too. In the span of minutes, I watched my husband melt away to reveal a girl that looks a lot like Hannah. She still has his eyes. All the sudden, I’ve got this girl in my house that’s the same age as my kids where my husband used to be. I’ve thought of how to make it work, but I don’t know if it can. I’ve never been into women and the visual age difference makes me incredibly uncomfortable. All the while, the man I fell in love with is just behind those blue eyes. I still love him with all my heart and soul. It’s very weird.”

I lowered my voice. “You’re not gonna cheat on him, are you?”

She looked at me as if I had just committed the most grievous of sins. “Of course not! How can you even think about me like that?! That is the father of my children and the man I promised to have and to hold, for better or for worse!” She let out a few breaths to address her own temper. “This can be classified as ‘worse’ and I can admit that I’m not handling it well, but I don’t know what else to do. It’s new and it’s weird. I’m still trying to figure out where our relationship fits in all this.”

Taking another swig, I nodded. “Yea, I get what you’re saying. For some reason, my hair was really long after all this happened. I got it cut to maintain regs. I swear the girl in the mirror looked like you if you’d gone into the service right out of high school like I did. Only difference was the eyes. It’s been really weird.”

“That reminds me: why do you look like ‘Mac’ from JAG? Was that a conscious choice?”

“Of course it was. You, of all people, should know I had the most massive crush on her for the longest time.”

“Yes, but having a crush and wearing the same hairstyle are completely different situations.”

“For one, I had to keep up regs. I wasn’t about to go through the hassle of learning to do the bun, so I cut it to this length. For two, I was ordered to keep up appearances and reflect well on the squadron.”

“Sure, but didn’t they have masculine-adjacent styles they could have hooked you up with?”

“Closest was something called a ‘pixie cut’ that looked like Peter Pan meets Punk Rock Lesbian.” My sister glared at me. “What?! It looked strange to me! That’s not what I like on women!”

“So, you went with ‘the Mac’ because that’s what you like on women? Are you hearing yourself, Sam?”

“Okay, now that I’m saying it out loud, it does sound stupid. I probably should have gone way shorter.” Tossing the bottle back, I chugged the last of the beer. “I don’t think super short hair on women looks good or would reflect well on my squadron. I don’t know what that says about me.”

“It says that you have antiquated views about women.” She glanced at the bottle. “Another beer?”

I scooted the bottle toward her outstretched hand. “Please and thank you.” I settled my chin on the back of the chair. “I’m not putting myself in the ‘woman’ category, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. Not even a little bit. Still a man inside this airframe.”

She brought me another bottle of beer after she poured herself another glass of wine. She handed it over as she sat down with a smirk on her face. “I know that and you know that, but the average person is going to make snap judgements. It’s one of the reasons I took Kris shopping after everything happened. He was trying to wear all his old clothes. He used to be six-foot-four and getting close to two hundred pounds. Five-ten isn’t short, but it was enough of a difference that everything was hanging off his body. With all the negativity around trans people, right now, conformity means safety. Kris was pragmatic about it.”

“You’re going to have to bury me in a dress because the only time I’d wear one is over my cold, dead body.”

“Have you seen Kris wear a dress?”

“Well, no, but—”

“He doesn’t own one. There’s more to being a girl or a woman than wearing a skirt or dress, Sam. We’ve got options.” She looked me up and down. “Do you have any clothes besides your uniforms?”

“Nope. They’ve served me well for twenty-three years. Why stop now?”

“Didn’t you say something about being retired, now? Welcome to civilian life. Maybe putting the uniforms away is a good idea?”

“They’re all the clothes I have that actually fit, Laura.”

“Well… you’re in town for a couple of days. If you need it, we could go down to the mall, get you measured for a size, and pick out a few things. It’s what I did with Kris.” She could see the trepidation in my face. “No one is saying ‘leave your old life behind’, Sam. The only thing that’s being said is that things are different and maybe a little adaptation isn’t a bad thing.”

There was a very pregnant pause as I took a long swig on the beer bottle. It gave me time to think and snap back a little. “Damn you for making sense, woman.”

She smirked. “I was always the smarter one. You’ve always been pretty stubborn.”

“Okay, say I agree to this idea of yours. These are the Rules of Engagement: nothing frilly and/or pink, nothing hyper-feminine whatsoever, we go for ‘comfortable tomboy’ or ‘disaffected niece’ and nothing more. Agreed?”

She smiled. “You got that from the movie.” Then, she firmly nodded. “Those seem to be fair rules. I’m glad you feel like you can trust me. We really should have more heart-to-hearts like this.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, sure. Maybe we’ll get deep into feelings and have a good cry.”

She read my sarcastic tone like a book. “Love you, too, asshole.”