I still don't own anything! A/N: I finally did an outline of the story, meaning updates might come more often. Also, I have another Avengers story, a crossover with Winx Club, called Fail Safe. If you could read and review, then that would be awesome.
She took a step back, her hand halfway to her slightly-open mouth. She had already been in the doorway so she was left staring at the plaque above the doorframe that proclaimed that Tony Stark owned it (the doorframe and lab both). "Um, you were supposed to contradict me...?" she said softly.
The words were sarcastic. Her tone was not. Yellowjacket felt a pang of guilt ring deep in the back of his mind where there was nowhere farther to shove it away, making him look down at the floor in regret, even while his jaw tightened in anger.
"Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, or something, before I left..." she let the statement hang in the air for a few seconds while Yellowjacket sifted through data.
The only sound at her exit was the soft whirring of quick wings.
"How does it work?" asked Steve, peering at the small screen in confusion. "They're wearing...cameras? Why?"
"So we can see what's going on," replied Tony in annoyance. "Here, lemme see it." reaching for the StarkPhone, he pressed a button on the side and the screen lit up to reveal the interior of a quinjet. Handing it back to Cap, the others crowded around, jockeying for the best view.
"I hate Chicago," it was Clint's voice, and Steve practically dropped the StarkPhone in surprise. Tony snatched the phone from him like it was a precious thing.
"Move," Carol jostled Tony and Steve, accidentally hitting the Captain's shoulder and pushing the latest in a line of Starks to the floor. "Sorry."
"What are you doing in there?" it was Wasp's voice coming through the speaker.
"Nothing, we're fine." said Tony, with a weak warning look to the others, mostly lost on them. "We're fine."
"So who's taking the first watch?" Clint asked his teammates. Muffled shuffling sounds could be heard.
"I have no objection to watching first. Vision, will you accompany me? It would be more practical for two to go and guard each other against any ambush." T'Challa said.
"Affirmative." was Vision's inarticulate answer. The android had not been around as of late—in fact, he had been seemingly actively avoiding the team. They really were growing apart, Yellowjacket thought as he watched.
"So where're we staying?" it was Clint who spoke again. They would find out soon enough, it was almost landing time. The hotel was a nice place; a very, very nice place. Tony had reserved it, but Clint figured he would be doomed to four-stars at every turn either way; he didn't know how to choose anything but the most expensive. Jan was mostly the same way. Vision usually took Tony's suggestions on matters of such. T'Challa was a king.
"In keeping their visit secret, maybe a jet entrance wouldn't be the best idea?" Steve said in his Tony-inflicted, long-suffering manner.
"Relax, Cap. They're going in a car to the hotel." the billionaire assured him with a wave of his hand. "Call us when you need to report something." he said into the camera, shutting it off.
"This will be bad." muttered the Hulk, crossing his massive green arms. Ms. Marvel glanced up at him.
"What are you talking about?"
"It doesn't look right. Banner agrees with me." the Hulk said nothing else on the matter, instead staring at the screen with such intensity that the others felt the screen might crack.
"Has he moved yet?" Hawkeye's voice came through Vision's communication unit, to which he replied tersely.
"Not that my sensors indicate."
"Well, don't be too chatty," muttered Hawkeye moodily. "All I was—"
"I can see him at my position. He is moving towards a lower level."
"Alright, then," Wasp held two fingers to her right headset. "We're moving in." she glanced at Hawkeye, whose shoulder she currently occupied. "You remember how we go in, right?"
Panther nodded quickly before convening with Vision and the others.
"Okay, this is creepy." Hawkeye stated as he stepped around in the spotless kitchen. Not only was there nothing, but there was less then nothing—the entire floor was impeccably clean and void of almost any furniture. "It smells like bleach."
"Someone cleaned this room recently." Panther announced.
"Didn't they?" an unfamiliar voice asked. All four heroes spun around immediately to come face-to-face with their mark. Stepping into a stance for combat, Hawkeye was just loading an arrow into his bow when the face they were face-to-face with became that of Amora the Enchantress, eyes eclipsed with white and red light.
Hawkeye loosed the arrow, a rather futile effort, however, as Amora turned it to ash before it was within three feet of her. "Make sure she hasn't actually been torturing anyone, Panther, Vision! Wasp and I can handle her." Hawkeye yelled to the others. Throwing her hands into the air, a dome-like shield of fire flared for a minute around her body, forcing her attackers back a few feet.
As shots were fired at her, the woman's eyes flickered from white to its usual green color, then back again. This seemed to be normal for her while in combat, but when Wasp hit her in the side of the head, the white disappeared entirely, and her glittering, malice-filled eyes lit on Wasp, widening as she fell to the ground.
"Child," she rasped as if it were a statement. Hawkeye paused to frown in confusion at her. Amora's eyes were rolling back in her head with the effort of fighting off Surtur's mind control. "End—" she said, head rolling back.
Wasp reached out with two fingers and touched Amora's shoulder to make sure she was (or wasn't) dead. In all fairness, she couldn't have seen the way the (centuries) older woman's neck went ridged, the way her eyes lit once more with colorless white.
And then there was an explosion of fire.