Fury tried to smile at the dark skinned teenager in front of him, but with the kid staring at his own hands folded up in his lap, it was difficult. "So, what's your name?"
"T-Tyson." The boy answered. "Tyson Gimple."
Fury cleared his throat, and the boy nearly jumped out of his skin, flames immediately shooting form his finger tips and engulfing his wrists.
The men standing on either side of the metal table immediately took our fire extinguishers, shooting them at the boy.
He fell back, stumbling, and falling to the floor, shielding his face from the foam.
"Enough!" Fury barked, and the two guards stopped.
The boy shivered, the white foam a complete contrast to his skin. Fury motioned to the chair, and the boy, shaking, carefully sat down again.
"Now, how did you get into the middle of New York, terrorizing everything that moved?" Fury asked.
Tyson's eyes widened, "I-I didn't mean to do that! They, they all made me!"
Fury nodded, trying to calm him down, "I know, calm down son, we just wanna know where they are. Tell us everything you know about them, everything you remember, and we'll take them out."
Tyson took deep breaths, trying not to flame up again. "They… they always kept us in darkness."
"Us?" Fury questioned, his only eye widening.
Tyson nodded, "There were other kids there."
"How many?" Fury asked, this was getting serious, and he suspected they were breeding weapons out of mutant teenagers. Since the human mutant alike law had been passed, this was highly illegal.
Tyson sighed, "There was me, some other kid, named Clyde I think, and a girl that came in the day I was taken out, I don't think they could have done anything to her yet."
Fury frowned even more, "Done anything?"
Tyson nodded, "Experiments. They were always trying to get Clyde to fight back, but he was always holding back his mutation, and they found out every way to trigger my ability."
Fury nodded, "What ways?"
"Getting me angry was their favorite one." Tyson said, glaring at the table in front of him, "Eventually, they did it so much that any amount of anger, even just a little aggravation, would set me off."
He took a deep breath before looking up at Fury again, "I'm sorry, this conversation is making me angry. Just thinking about what they did to me…"
Fury nodded, "They robbed you of your humanity."
Fury knew that feeling, he's seen it in the eyes of every person he's talked to form this kind of situation.
Tyson chuckled, "I wish. If I wasn't human, it might make me feel better." Tyson shook his head slowly, "No, they did more than that. They took away my childhood. I was there for six years, being there play thing. They had no pity on the eleven year old orphan that came in, or the seventeen year old horror that came out."
Fury nodded, taking out a piece of paper and a pen, "I need you to write down everything you know about where their headquarters is at, how many men they have, how many weapons, and if you can, an inner map of the building. Can you do that for me son?"
Tyson nodded, "Yes sir. But I want a favor in return."
Fury raised his one seeable eyebrow, "What do you want?"
"Me, Clyde, and that other girl there, I want you to promise me we're not going to end up in an asylum or anything like that." He clarified. "And if that's impossible, just promise me that the others will be taken care of."
Fury was impressed. Any other person would have just been concerned about themselves after something like that, but this kid was sticking his neck out for the others. "Son, I promise you, nothing of the sort will happen to you three."
The boy nodded, quickly concerning himself with the pen and paper.
Fury walked out of the room, striding down the hallway at a fast pace, glaring slightly. After years of working in this field, he still could not figure out how someone could do that to a child. For six years, that boy had known nothing but a dark room with horrible men in it.
A voice suddenly piped up, "Yo Fury, looks like someone slapped you in the face, and then it froze like that." Tony commented, walking over in his Iron Man suit, but the helmet was pulled away, revealing his face.
Fury tried to contain his dislike of the man, "Agent Stark, you were issued home."
He nodded, "Right, but junior here really wanted to see the helicarrier."
Fury looked with disdain at the young boy who stepped out behind Tony, an exact replica of Iron man, but smaller, and blue where Iron man was gold, black where he was red. "Tony-"
The helmet of the boy's face pulled away, revealing his mother's red hair and his father's brown eyes, "What's up Fury?"
Fury glared at Tony, "Trying to figure out why there's a child on my helicarrier. Stark, this is against every rule we have! No civilians on this helicarrier unless authorized by me!"
The boy tilted his head to the side, "Dad was right, you are a party pooper that should have been hugged more when he was a child."
Fury's eyes widened, then slowly turned to Tony, who was looking at his son with a look that said 'why did I ever tell you that?' before turning to Fury, a smirk on his face, "I have no idea where he heard that."
Fury glared at Tony, "Get this kid off my helicarrier, and never let him come back!"
Tony smirked, but before he could reply, Jackson spoke up, "Where's the pyrotechnic you intercepted in New York last week?"
Fury turned to Tony, absolutely livid, but Tony beat him to it, "I didn't tell him that!"
Jackson answered quickly, "He didn't tell me, I hacked Jarvis."
Tony smirked smugly, "See I told you- wait, you did what!" before Jackson could answer, his father went ballistic, "You hacked Jarvis! How could you do- I never even- you have no idea what-… are you kidding me! It's an unspoken law! You don't hack another man's computer! Especially your fathers!"
Jackson shrugged, "You made it to easy."
Tony sputtered, "To easy! This is my software you're talking about! The most advanced software-"
"That a twelve year old hacked." Jackson finished.
Fury interrupted the exchange, "Jackson, how much do you know about the pyrotechnic?"
"Everything that Dad knows." Jackson answered.
Nick sighed, turning to Tony, "Any particular reason that you've got your son in a battle suit, on the helicarrier?"
Tony shrugged, "It was time to start looking for a successor."
Nick nodded, knowingly, he had felt the need for a successor before to, it was part of the personal reasoning behind the Avengers motive. "He's twelve years old Stark."
Tony shrugged, "He's graduating from college in a few weeks, does that stand for anything?"
Nick sighed, "Probably not."
"Rats."
Maria Hill walked into the room suddenly, "General, Tyson is requesting your presence."
Nick nodded, standing up, before a young voice stopped him, "Can come?"
Nick looked down at the kid, the kid who probably had hacked Jarvis many times and probably knew far more than he should. He was faced with two options, either have a backfire of threats the twelve year old would generate about exposing S.H.E.I.L.D, or just let the kid have his childhood wonder moments today and ban him from returning tomorrow.
"Very well." Nick allowed. "But keep it professional, no fan boy, alright?"
"Fan boy?" Jackson questioned, "Who do you think I am, Coulson's son?"
Tony shook his head as the two left, "Great, now I'm the third wheel."
IN A BACK ALLEY OF MANHATTAN:
The dark back alley, covered mostly in trash, and partly in shadow, was silent for a brief moment, before a thin figure with short, choppy brown hair dashed in, carrying a small bundle and looking around wildly in desperation before diving into the nearest dumpster, silently closing the lid shut behind them, carefully holding the small brown bagged bundle.
Within a few seconds, the alley was filled with six men, looking around wildly. "Where'd the little punk go?" One of the men demanded.
The men, a bit nervous over their apparent leader's temper, shrugged, and one piped up, "I swear, I saw her run in here!"
The leader turned to the man, "Oh, did you now?"
The man, suddenly realizing he had directed the leader's temper at himself, said, "Well, y-yeah, I did Andy, I did…"
Andy glared daggers at him, "Well then, where is the little thief?"
The man shuddered, "I, I guess she went somewhere else?"
Andy's glare turned into a horrifying smirk, "Well then, you were wrong."
"Y-yeah I g-guess I was…" The man said, his knees shaking.
"You know what the punishment is for that right?" Andy asked.
The man, sweating like a pig, stuttered painfully, unable to say it.
"Speak up!" Andy commanded.
The man shuddered, fear overwhelming him. "Blood atonement."
The thin figure hiding in the dumpster nearly choked, horrified they had brought on something like that. Blood atonement was this gang's highest punishment. They would take a machete, cut off both thumbs, shred both ears, remove both knee caps, and then, and only then, would they slit the throat. All with the machete.
Andy snapped his fingers, and the man was grabbed, and held still while Andy took out a machete. Even from the small crack in the lid that the figure was staring through, they could see that the machete was dull, to dull. They would be at it for at least ten minutes. The figure grit their teeth, it was inhuman!
Andy raised the machete, paying no attention to the man's pleads for mercy.
"Stop!" Cried the figure, jumping up and flinging the lid open, the brown bagged package still pressed tightly to their chest.
Everyone was still as a car passed the alley, showing the figure as a teenage girl, brown ragged hair covering her eyes completely, tattered clothes, and over all, disgustingly dirty. The girl climbed up on the dumpster lid, holding the package carefully. She had risked her life to get it, but she couldn't let it this man, even though he was a total stranger, be killed, not in that way.
"You say being wrong means blood atonement!" Shrieked the girl, "Well, what does thievery call for!"
Andy dropped the machete, unimpressed with the girl, and grabbed her by the hair, dragging her down from the dumpster and tearing the package out of her arms, before tossing her to two other men, who grabbed her arms and held her in place, while the other man was released. He reached into the package, pulling out what he had nearly killed a member of his gang over, a loaf of bread.
He smirked, putting it back into the package, and tossing it to the man he had nearly killed, and turning to the girl. "You wanna know the punishment punk?"
The girl nodded, and Andy smirked, "Blood atonement."
She rolled her eyes, "Wow, you sure are an inventive lot."
Andy picked up the machete, but before he could approach, the girl sprung away form the man, wrists twisting from their hold, and a knife in her hand, and a purposeful look on her mostly hidden features.
"This is reason." She mumbled, taking out a shuriken from her back pocket.
Andy turned towards his mean, "Well what are you waiting for? Get her!"
The girl bobbed and weaved out of their punches and knives, taking care to attack none of them herself until she was out of the circle of fire, and in front of Andy, bringing the knife down on his neck swiftly, careful to make it quick.
She whirled around to the other men standing there, grasping her unused shuriken in a death grip, waiting.
The first man charged, and she threw the shuriken with skill, embedding it into his throat. She quickly withdrew more throwing stars, taking precise aim, and in mere moments, three more fell to the ground, throwing stars embedded in their throats and eyes.
The girl turned towards the only man left, the one who's life she had saved. "The bread, please." She requested, in a quiet, yet powerful voice.
She man quickly threw the bag to her, falling to his knees, "Please! Don't kill me, I've got kids!"
She looked at him as if he were stupid, "If I wanted you dead, I would have just let him kill you."
The man paused, looking up at the girl strangely. "You're… letting me go?"
She nodded, "Leave."
The man jumped up, running from the alley.
The girl sighed, putting her knife back in the strap around her right thigh, "And that was honor."
She turned back to the dead bodies, gritting her teeth at what had to be done. Throwing stars weren't cheap, and she was hungry.
