A/N: This is not my first fanfiction, but it is the first one I've posted. Please review! And please don't flame, because that hurts, but constructive criticism is great!
Footsteps echoed in the room. I pushed myself into the back of my cage. The footsteps came closer and paused outside of my dog crate. I bent my body into a smaller ball. Sometimes, being ten percent cat had its advantages. A face appeared in front of my door.
"Where is Max and the others?" A voice hissed. My heart leaped. This was the escape that Max had promised, I was sure of it. Crawling to the front of my tiny prison, I pointed the best I could in my friend's direction. The face disappeared, and I listened to footsteps move hurriedly away.
"Jeb!" Max hissed. I heard the creaking of doors and more feet on the hard floor. Fang's familiar jog approached my door. He tugged at the bolt.
"We have to get Nyx," he whispered.
"Yeah. We can't leave Nyx." Iggy said. I heard a sigh, shifting weight.
"Can she fly?" The voice that I had heard earlier asked flatly.
"No, but she can run like heck and jump a bazillion feet." Max answered.
"She can't come."
"But Jeb-"
"She can't come. Let's go." Footsteps started again, along with a dragging sound. A hand swooped down and plucked Fang out of sight.
"No! Nyx!" Max squealed. Her voice was muffled.
"Max!" I cried. "Don't leave me!"
I snapped my eyes open, dispelling the dream. It was more than a dream - it was a memory. Footsteps echoed in the now Flockless room, and I closed my eyes again. My breathing slowed until it looked like I was still asleep.
"How do you propose getting her out?" A voice asked quietly. I barely stopped my giant cat ears from flicking. Me? Getting out?
"Stark is jamming the cameras now." Another voice said. It was crackly and muffled, like it was coming from a radio or something. "You can take her out the back."
"Will do." Someone tapped my cage. "Hey there."
"If you're a whitecoat, get the heck out. If you're a new kid, sorry you got trapped here, there's no way out, go to sleep. If you're an Eraser, go run into a wall and die." I said.
The person chuckled. Chuckled! "What if I'm none of those?"
"Then congratulations on getting in, I hope your death is quick."
"Are you always this pessimistic?"
"Are you always this talkative?"
"Got me there. I'm here to break you out."
In her defense, the person didn't flinch as I cracked one eye open. "The last person that told me that was dragged away by a whitecoat and I never saw her again."
"I have some very powerful friends." She picked the lock on my cage and swung the door open. "You coming?"
"Any strings attached?"
"Do I look like a puppet?"
I made a show of looking the woman over. "Nope. So...who do I thank for this glorious rescue?"
"Natasha Romanoff. And you are?"
"Subject Seven. Or, if you rather, that girl who has a room to herself because the birdkids made it out and left her behind."
"Don't you have a name?"
"I had friends that called me Nyx. Or Ice, sometimes." I was careful to keep an expressionless mask.
"I'll call you that then. So, Nyx, shall we go?"
"Let's." As Natasha led me away from the crate that had been my home for twelve years, I didn't look back. Not even as we exited via the back door, or boarded the small black jet.
That life was behind me now.
(Line break)
When I imagined my escape, it didn't include a jet, New York City, or a giant tower with an 'A' on it. But this one did. Not that I was complaining - I was happy to be out of the School. But I wasn't entirely ready for landing in the middle of New York City. For one thing, I still had my flimsy hospital gown on.
"Is there anywhere I can change?" I asked Natasha.
She nodded. "I'll show you."
Natasha led me down a stairwell to a hallway. She opened one of the doors. "This will be your room."
All caution went out the window as soon as I saw my room. It was huge, with thick rugs on a hardwood floor. There were giant curtains on the windows, a little metal box thing next to a desk, and more doors that I threw open as soon as I could. Behind the doors was a huge room with a sink and a toilet that I vaguely remembered being called a bathroom. There was a closet too, already stocked with clothes. I couldn't help but wave my tail in excitement.
"This is mine?" I asked. Natasha nodded, smiling slightly. I pointed to the clothes. "Those are mine?"
Another nod.
"I can put them on?"
"Come out to the lounge after you change." Natasha said. "JARVIS will tell you where it is."
I started to ask who JARVIS was, but Natasha was gone. Shrugging to myself, I turned back to the closet, noting ruefully that none of the pants had slits. Of course, no one was planning that I had a tail.
After cutting a hole in a pair of jeans and throwing the pair on, along with a slightly larger than needed shirt, I left my room.
"The lounge is down the hall and to the right, Ms. Ice." A voice said.
I jumped, spinning in midair. "Who's there?"
"I am JARVIS, Ms. Ice." The voice - Jarvis - said.
"Oh. Okay then. Um...thanks."
"Anytime, Ms. Ice." Our short conversation came to a close. I flicked my big cat ears and continued in my original path. Voices began to filter down the hall as I reached the lounge area.
"I didn't sign up to be a babysitter!" One voice complained as I stepped into the room. In a split second I identified the speaker, moved, and had him pinned against the wall.
"And I didn't sign up to be babysat by a guy who smells like metal. I guess we both have something to complain about, huh?" I said coldly, keeping a tight grip on the man's collar.
"Nyx. Put him down." Natasha had risen from her chair. I flicked my ears in acknowledgement, stepping back and releasing the man. Then I wiped my hands on my jeans.
"What do you eat, copper?" I asked.
"What?" he replied.
"The whitecoats made me identify different metals by smell only once. You smell strongly of iron, copper, and something else."
"It's the suit," Natasha called. I took a closer look at the man. He wasn't wearing a suit. I was about to mention that when Natasha spoke again, "He doesn't wear it all the time."
"Oh."
"Nat, are you going to be polite and introduce us?" Another man asked.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Sure. Nyx, this is Agent Clint Barton, Captain Steve Rogers, Dr. Bruce Banner, and the guy you just attacked is Tony Stark. Thor should be here soon."
"Why do they call you Nyx?" The second man - Clint - asked.
I looked at him and brushed away my bangs. "Good enough answer?"
"Is that normal?" Bruce flicked his gaze from one of my eyes to the other. I was fully aware they were two different colors, and I was fully aware that the colors weren't natural. I mean, how many people do you see with one black eye and one white eye?
"I was an experiment, Doctor. Of course it isn't normal." I looked pleadingly at Natasha. "Can I go to bed now? I kind of just broke out of prison and I'm tired."
"Greetings, friends!" A booming voice called. I spun around. A man was walking towards me, his hand raised.
"Thor, wait!" Natasha called, but too late. I was already moving. In a split second I had pinned the man on the floor.
"You can let him up now, Nyx. He wasn't going to hurt you." Bruce's voice was soft and kind.
"Sorry." I got up quickly. "I'm going to bed now."