A/N: Hello once again everyone, here is chapter two. I think it's a bit longer than chapter one, but I still hope you enjoy. I apologize in case I overlooked any spelling/punctuation/grammar mistakes.

Chapter One:

The pain in my body was never relieved, even when I was sleeping. I had figured someone had found me and taken me home, but I didn't give it much thought. The bed I was laying in was warm but my bones ached anyways. I woke up what felt like every five minutes, then would fall back into a restless, nightmare filled sleep.

Finally, when my eyes wrenched open for the last time, the room was full of daylight. I squinted as I peered out the wall to my left, which overlooked the busy life of New York. I didn't recognize this room, but I didn't doubt there were places I had never seen in this tower. I kicked off the covers and sat upright, making my head spin. I had to sit still and close my eyes while my body adjusted.

Then suddenly I heard more footsteps, this time bounding into the room. I didn't turn, just kept my shoulders slumped and eyes closed, shakily reaching to make sure my wig was still in place, and thank god it was.

The footsteps walked around the bed and when I finally opened my eyes, Tony was standing before me. His lip was busted, his nose was slightly out of place, and it looked like he had gotten stitches on the side of his head. My heart twisted knowing it had been me that had gotten them attacked.

I stood, or, well, tried to stand, but my legs were still weak. Tony caught my arm and flashed me a look of worry.

"What happened to you?" he asked. His voice was low, and I was surprised he sounded choked with emotion.

When I looked up into his eyes I really did almost collapse at the sight of wetness in their corners.

I opened my mouth but I didn't know what to say to him. I wanted to tell him the truth, but Ibis said she would silence anyone who knew . . . and I couldn't kill any of my friends, even if it was to save the lives of many more. I couldn't think of a lie, a good lie, because I knew he would see through it. They all would, they were trained to know lies when they heard them. I was unprepared, I didn't know how to face them yet. All I could do was shake my head and try to ignore the look of betrayal in his eyes.

Then another voice came from the doorway. Tony stepped back an inch but kept a hold on my arm since I still wobbled unsteadily. He met my eyes and I could see the disappointment there—that I didn't trust him enough to confide in him—and it killed me. I looked to the floor, utterly ashamed.

"Emily," It was Natasha. Tony helped me to the doorway. At least she didn't seem as beaten up as Tony. I couldn't help but slam myself against her form, wrapping my arms around her. She seems surprised but stayed silent as she returned my hug.

I could practically feel them sharing glances over my shoulder, but I kept my face buried in her neck, trying not to cry. I had to be strong, stronger than whatever was inside of me, in order to protect these people which I held so dear. But I didn't know how to do that, not when I was so weak on my own.

"What happened?" she spoke into my shoulder, which slumped in defeat. I wouldn't be able to give her an answer either, and I know neither of them, plus the others, would give up on pestering me about it until I gave them the truth—or a lie they could buy.

I pulled back and quickly swiped under my eyes, which I could see surprised Natasha. Her eyebrows furrowed deeper over her brown eyes and she set her hands on my shoulders, looking me over shakily. "What did they do to you?"

My lips quivered. "Nothing," I spoke finally. "Absolutely nothing." I shook my head and tried my best to keep my tears from overflowing. I turned away from Natasha so I wouldn't have to meet her concerned but confused eyes, and I couldn't bring myself to look at Tony, either.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, but I hastily interrupted. "I-I need a shower."

Besides the cuts and bruises, my suit was still a little damp and sticking to me. I didn't doubt I was covered in blood and mud, among who knows what else.

She said nothing, but nodded, and looked to Tony, who took my arm and led me to a door on the left. "You can use my bathroom," he said as he flipped on the light. He kept trying to meet my eyes, but I refused to let him see my guilt.

So this was his room—I probably should have guessed, however. I hadn't been in everyone's rooms, but this seemed to be one of the highest up and pretty elaborately decorated. Only the best for Tony Stark.

"Thank you," I murmured. He left the bathroom but I kept the door open, and looked at myself in the mirror. I almost gasped but bit my tongue.

My lip, was too, busted and swollen. There were various cuts on my face, among where streaks of blood and dirt. My suit was tattered more than I thought it was, and blood soaked most of my upper arms and chest.

Anyone else would have been dead or incapacitated. My mind whispered sickly, only reminding me of everything all over again.

"It never surprised you how quickly you healed from wounds, or how much your body could withstand?" Ibis's voice joined in, echoing uncomfortably in the back of my head.

I was jolted out of my revere when Natasha appeared behind me in the mirror. She seemed surprised I had been startled so easily. I was a pretty paranoid person, but I was never one to be jumpy. Especially at home, here in the tower. However, she said nothing and stepped beside me, setting a bundle of clothing down on the counter top.

She stared down at the clothes and then looked up to me, even though I was still staring at myself in the mirror.

"Please, Emily, tell me what happened."

My throat felt so thick I thought for a moment I couldn't breathe. "I-I can't Nat . . . not right now. Just . . . Just give me some time to think. I-I'll tell you after I shower, alright?"

She flattened her lips into a slight frown, but nodded silently. She turned to leave, but then stopped.

"Just know, Emily, that you can tell me, and all of us anything. It won't change how we look at you. We know you're a strong woman. That's why you're a part of the team. We would never see you differently because of one weakness or another." She met my eye in the mirror and then shut the door behind her.

I knew she wasn't talking about me, or what I was, or even my hair. She thought I was afraid of them thinking me weak because I was captured. But the words still left me feeling hollow and pathetically hopeless. I locked the door and took a deep breath.

I had to tear most of my suit to get it completely off, and then once I was fully stripped I pulled off my wig and then clambered into the overly-fancy shower and turned the water on.

The heat felt good, but any feeling of pleasure was washed away when I saw the water turn red beneath my feet. There were some cuts and bruises on my legs but the worst were on my arms, chest and face. I scrubbed my skin with a random soap bar and didn't feel clean until the water ran clear again.

Then, I turned the water on as hot as it would go and sat down under the shower head. I felt my own hot tears pour down my face but they were lost in the scalding water. My skin and body rippled in pain but I didn't move. I couldn't. I felt dirty and broken. The hot water would do nothing, of course, but the pain took my mind off of everything if just for a while.

I couldn't say how long I sat there. The water started going to a more lukewarm after what seemed a long while, but my skin was so raw by now I could barely feel it.

However, when I heard voices outside the door, I knew I had been sitting in here longer than what would be considered normal, even for someone who needed privacy. I didn't move, couldn't even bring myself to try and uncurl myself from my spot on the showers floor, and I couldn't even bring myself to care my hair was exposed. I just drooped my shoulders and curled into myself more, pulling my legs into myself and burying my face in the crevice of my knees.

"How long has she been in there?" It was Steve's voice.

"About two hours," Natasha replied. "I thought she was just taking her time to compose herself but the water hasn't stopped running. And the door's locked."

"Well bust in there!" Tony said.

"Back up," I heard her muffled voice say, and I didn't react or startle when I heard the door being kicked in.

Natasha rushed to my side, pulling the curtain partially back, and I heard her intake of breath. Luckily, I don't think Steve or Tony heard as they didn't join us in the room.

She dropped to her knees and reached out to touch me, but her hand fell to her side.

"S-she's fine you guys." she said over her shoulder. I heard two sighs of relief. "Shut the door." She turned back to me and I heard the door close.

"Emily," she murmured, her voice broken.

It took all I had left inside me to look up at her. I don't know what plastered the shock on her face more: my hair or the bright red rawness of my skin, which I was pretty sure was probably bleeding by now.

"What did you do?" she whispered, and turned off the water quickly. She reached onto a low shelf and carefully wrapped a towel around my shoulders, pulling me to my feet. She made me sit on the toilet.

She moves her eyes down to where my wig lay, and slowly, she bent to pick it up. She held it, looking at it clenched in her fist, and then turned her gaze on me, confused. "Why would you wear a wig?"

If I didn't feel so numb I might have laughed. I just looked at her and the brown mess of hair with hooded eyes. Of course, she wouldn't react as badly as I had thought. It was just hair after all, but hair that proved I wasn't human. I shook my head, squeezing my eyes closed.

"What's going on with you?" she asked more firmly. Natasha wasn't one to pussyfoot around, and even more so when it had to do with work and the team.

Her question rung in my ears. How was I supposed to answer? The problem was, even I didn't know what was going on with me. How could I say anything? All I could manage was a halfhearted shrug and avoid her piercing gaze.

I could see her expression from the corner of my eye. And she was pissed. But I think she took pity on me because she said nothing, just shook her head and stormed out of the bathroom, wig in hand. The door slammed behind her and I flinched. And then I could hear the others, "What the hell is that?"

"A wig?"

"Why?"

"Why a wig? Why would she wear a wig?"

"What is she hiding?"

"What happened in there?"

"Did she say anything?"

I covered my ears with my hands and again closed my eyes, willing the hot tears to stop burning my cheeks. How was I supposed to protect these people if they were too stubborn or nosy to let me think straight for two minutes? My mind was still spinning in circles and Ibis's voice still echoed in the back of my head; my friends looks haunted me with insane guilt and embarrassment. I sighed heavily as the questions got louder, Natasha's replies were short and sounding just as confused as the rest of them.

"Act tough. It's what you've always done, so why not now?"

I startled at the sound of Ibis's voice. I looked around quickly, my heart catching in my throat, and all I could do was sit still and listen again, but nothing made a sound except my teammates closing in on me.

Act tough. It was true though, when things got the better of me I put out this facade where it seemed I was in control and knew what I was doing. So why not now? It repeated, just the same as before. This time, however, it was not my body that startled into action. It was my mind.

Quickly, I took a couple deep breaths and then rose to my feet, clinging to the towel still around my shoulders. My back was burning harshly, raw from the water still, but—with reluctant realization—I knew it wouldn't take long to heal. I rubbed my body gently with the towel, making sure I was dry before I slipped on the clothes Nat had brought me. The voices outside had died but I could hear them breathing, pacing, waiting for me to come out.

Nervously I brushed out my hair, playing with it in between my fingers, and realized this was one of the first times in a long, long while that I would be appearing before people with my natural hair. I closed my eyes tight and had to take another deep breath, supporting myself on the sink.

Nat had not reacted in the way I thought. And I knew the others wouldn't either. It wasn't rejection, or fear, or disgust. But it was betrayal and confusion. And that is what I would have to face. Something I had not been expecting, something I never could have expected. And maybe it would have been easier if they had been scared or repelled. Then that way, I would know what to do, instead of feeling like I was walking blind onto a mine field.

I swallowed hard, tucking my hair behind my ears, and then quickly shaking it out again stupidly, before I padded my way to the bathroom door, where it seemed the others were listening, and held their breath as I turned the doorknob

Everyone was there now, except for Thor, who was probably still in Asgard, completely blissful in unknowing. Each pair of eyes were on me, and I had to make sure my face wasn't red or tearing up with embarrassment. It was like elementary school all over again. The day I realized I wasn't a normal child and grew up thinking I was some kind of freak. Turns out, I wasn't exactly wrong.

Tony opened and shut his mouth quite a few times, his face red, with both surprise and anger it seemed. I couldn't help but cringe slightly, preparing myself for the rejection I was hoping would happen, but suddenly the room grew a bit less tense and everyone's expression's softened. Except for Tony's.

"What the hell?" His voice seemed to strain for the correct use of tone. When I looked up he held my wig in his fist, shaking it at me.

I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I don't know, Tony. I mean, I do know. I just don't know how or where to start explaining."

He made a noise in the back of his throat. "Well you better start now, and quickly."

"Tony," Steve murmured, but quickly shut his mouth at the glare being sent his way.

I took a deep breath, and when I opened my mouth I was at a loss for words. I had never really talked about it. Never really even thought about it. I didn't want to, and I didn't need to. Not when no one knew to ask questions.

"Go on." Tony said between his teeth. His fists were shaking at his sides and he was pacing like a madman. And it made me think: why was this affecting him so badly? Had I hurt his ego so badly with one thing I never shared with him?

"I was born with this." I said after a minute, and I thanked the Gods for my voice sounding flat and emotionless. "This, I mean, my hair." It seemed everyone had grown so quiet now, even Tony, who still looked pissed, but a little more calm now that I was talking.

"My mother and father had brown hair, as did my siblings. No one in my family had hair like I did. My father even accused my mother of having an affair. But they never spoke to me about it. They took me to specialists, DNA testing was done, but it came out normal, like any other persons. But to my family I was this . . . abomination, and they were embarrassed to take me out in public and be bombarded with questions.

"When I started schooling it wasn't much different. The kids avoided me like the plague. They stared and laughed and alienated me. It continued through high school, and it seemed as if not a day passed by where I did not feel on a different spectrum than them. I was the "hag", the "albino", and well, you can imagine what else."

I felt a small smile curve my lips and I felt my eyes prick with tears, but I kept my gaze far off, somewhere beyond the glass wall overlooking New York. "And still not a day goes by where I have to sit and wonder why I deserved so much . . . ill feelings. I ran from my home, where I never felt welcome, and I came here. Of course, I wore my wig, but I felt that I was safe here. At home. I was scared if I took off my mask it would be just the same as everywhere else. And you must forgive me for not trusting my own friends."

It was silent for a moment, and I did not dare meet anyone's gaze.

"That's all?" Tony said. I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly, but he sounded slightly disappointed. By the sound Natasha smacking his arm I guessed I heard right.

"So what about what happened during our last mission?" He asked, and when I met his eyes they were once again angry and searching. "What the hell happened to get you bloodied and beaten in the middle of the sidewalk like that?"

I swallowed. I had to think fast and efficiently or this could all blow up in my face.

"Well, um." I stuttered stupidly, and I shook my head, staring at the ground, panicking.

"Maybe we should go downstairs to sit and finish answering questions? Huh, Tony?" Nat elbowed him in the ribs and they spent a minute glaring at each other before finally he grumbled in defeat and lead the way to the stairs.

It was silent and extremely awkward as we made our way to the living room area of Tony's suite, where the large leather sofas looked inviting. I took my seat, and everyone else did around me.

"Continue." Tony ordered, avoiding another jab from Natasha.

I folded my hands in my lap and stared down at them. My pale, slender hands that were no longer human to me. I clenched them together to hide the shaking, digging my nails into my skin.

"Well, obviously, it was a set up. But I'm still confused about it." I shook my head, hoping I sounded very convincing and looked distraught and lost. "Apparently it was, well, a lure to get me on the field . . ." I trailed off and squeezed my eyes closed, hoping they would blame it on a painful memory and not my own panicking. I had to think fast, dodge bullets, and stick as close to the truth as possible without endangering their lives or revealing my non-human heritage.

"So I guess I've had a stalker. Their name was something like . . . Shawn or Shane, I didn't hear much of it. They didn't show their face, but they just did a lot of talking. And beating." I cringed, not believing how horrible and hard my lie was to tell. I felt someone squeeze my knee and when I looked up it was Natasha. I flushed and ducked my head, not even able to believe she was believing this.

"I don't really know what else to tell you. I was unconscious most of the time and when I woke up I was being dragged but I couldn't see anything. And then I remember being on the street, confused and then I just passed out."

I bit my lip and avoided their eyes, hoping I had done a good job. However, if one of the other teammates had told me the same thing, I knew I wouldn't believe a word of it.

"And he . . . or they, just let you go?" Tony asked. He sounded confused but didn't look quite convinced.

"I guess . . ." I mumbled. "That's what I'm confused about. All of you know as much as I do about kidnappers, stalkers, and the kinds. But they didn't match the criteria. They didn't fit into anything, Which is why I'm just kind of . . . confused, still."

Nat nods slowly, and then Tony sighs and slouches. I quickly glance to Steve, Bruce, and then Barton, who all surprisingly look convinced.

And I want to scream at them. It shouldn't have been that easy. And it kills me that I had actually lied to them but it kills me more that they weren't able to see through it. I wanted to tell them, I wanted to have them be there for me, but it would kill them. And that was far worse than a lie to keep them safe.

So I just sat there feeling numb and nodding mutely as they told me they were sorry, how they wished they would have known so they could have watched out for me. How they wished they had found me sooner, how they wished I hadn't experienced that. Tony sat and stared at me, squinting his eyes like he just didn't buy it. I begged any God listening to spare him from his thoughts, to spare him from the trouble of caring about a broken girl like me.

And all I could do was wish they would never find out the truth. At least, not until I was far away and they were safe from me.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed; if you did, please leave a review on your thoughts/ideas/criticism. All is welcome! I would really love to hear what you think. Chapter three is still a work-in-progress and is currently slow moving. Please be patient, but I'll try to have it up as soon as possible!

~Quietic