I do not own any of the original Avengers characters.
Training
"Vision," Damian said, stepping into the room where Vision had been spending most of his time. "Do you mind if we talked for a moment?"
"Not at all," Vision said.
"You're the most physically durable member of the team," Damian said. "Using my physical abilities, I couldn't break you if my life depended on it. So...would you mind helping me train my other abilities? I need to learn to use them."
Vision nodded and the two of them walked outside.
Damian carefully set Vision onto the chair and sighed, walking to the window and folding his left arm across his chest and resting his face in his right hand.
"What happened to you?" Steve asked, looking at the cast on Vision's left leg.
Vision looked to Damian who swallowed.
"I, uh, got in a lucky shot during a sparring match," Damian said.
"Remind me not to get on your bad side," Steve said, walking out of the room.
"So, control harder than you thought?" Pietro asked, being the only other person in the room.
"I turned my power on and broke Vision's leg," Damian said.
"Try me," Pietro said.
"No," Damian said. "I'm not trying on you."
"Come on," Pietro said. "I can handle it."
"No, you can't," Damian said.
"Sure I can," Pietro said.
"Pietro, I broke Vision's leg!" Damian said. "Vision! The guy made out of Vibranium. The guy whose body only gets harder the more you hit it! Trust me, you physically cannot handle it."
"I'm fast, I'll just dodge it," Pietro said.
"Pietro," Vision spoke up. "I saw what he did. You would not be able to dodge it, not matter how fast you are."
"I'll just train alone," Damian sighed. "Maybe that'll help."
"Or, you could train with my sister," Pietro said.
"Pietro," Damian said. "I just broke a leg made of Vibranium in a single blast. If I hit you or your sister with it, you're not going to have enough of a leg left to break."
"Fair enough," Pietro said. "You might want to learn to do it somewhere a bit further from the facility then."
"I will be," Damian said. "I'm going to go and learn to use it in the middle of a desert somewhere."
"What if we need you?"
"You'll find me," Damian said.
With that, he turned, walking out of the room.
Damian stepped out of the jet and it took off again, the autopilot returning it to the facility. Damian sighed, turning back to the desert before him, staring at the few boulders and rocks scattered about, a small dried bit of long-dead plant every so often, and rolling sand dunes everywhere. Every bit the stereotypical desert. Damian sighed. If this was home, he needed to find shelter, or make some. He sighed. Might as well get started.
He raised his hand, taking a breath before reaching out with his telekinesis. Instantly, the blue-tinted energy around him spikes and thrashed around, a loud roar filling his head as it did. Then, an explosion went off behind him. He turned. The jet. Even from that distance, he had just brought down the jet. Well, there was his shelter.
Damian stepped out of the wreckage and stretched, looking around. He really needed a shower. But it hadn't rained in days. What little he had left he needed to stay hydrated.
"Alright," Damian sighed. "Day one hundred ninety six. Here goes nothing."
He held his right hand out, activating his power. Sand exploded up around him, burying him to his waist. He groaned, digging himself out. He held out his left hand. It wasn't that he had never tried with his left hand, he just knew what difference it made. Sand exploded up directly below him, hurling him into the air before he fell, landing on top of his shelter, blessedly not falling far. Using his left hand, made none. But it was always worth a shot. The most he could lose was his life and as of the moment there wasn't much there to lose. He slid to the ground, beginning to practice his martial arts. He had been away for a while with no one to train against. He was starting to get sloppy and he knew it. The jet was starting to run out of the food Colonel Fury had airdropped to him too. Finally, he sat down, hands out and grit his teeth. Then, sand crashed into his face.
Day two hundred seventy. No more being buries up to his waist anymore. Instead, now he just got thrown around. He'd try to lift a stone and he'd spontaneously find himself ten feet in the air and flying a hundred feet back. Food was starting to get scarce. Fury had missed the last two deliveries. If Damian couldn't learn to control himself soon, Fury wouldn't need to worry about delivering food at all, much less late. Damian held his hand out. Then, he landed on his back. He sat up, groaning.
"Two hundred seventy days, and nothing," Damian sighed. "I'm no closer to controlling it than when I started. What the hell am I doing wrong?"
"Maybe it's not you," Tony said. "Maybe your power is simply too strong to control. Maybe you're an atom bomb."
"You're not helping Stark," Damian growled. "And why are you here anyway? Isn't it usually Fury or Vision that complain that my power's too strong to control?"
"They're both busy," Tony said.
"Doing what?" Damian scoffed. "They're my hallucinations."
"Well, Vision is on a date with Wanda-"
"Yeah right," Damian snorted. "He's a robot."
"Well you're certainly not on a date with her," Tony said. "You blew that chance. I'm sure someone's tending the crop or you."
"Really?" Damian asked. "Tending the crop?"
"Plowing the fields?" Tony offered. "Kneading the dough? Stuffing the sandwich? Filling the-"
"Alright enough!" Damian shouted. "Jesus! You know, for my hallucination you're an awful asshole. And perverted."
"Just a reflection of part of your personality," Tony said, cutting a wedge out of an apple and putting it in his mouth.
"I'm hungry aren't I?" Damian asked.
"Probably," Tony nodded.
"Where's Fury anyway?" Damian asked. "You said he was busy too."
"Oh he's having a tea party inside," Tony said.
"He's what?" Damian asked. "This I've gotta see."
He walked inside and saw Fury sitting at a tiny pink table, in a tiny pink chair, sipping imaginary tea from a small plastic cup and giggling at a joke his friend the teddy bear had made.
"Oh good," Damian said. "Even my hallucinations are going crazy. That's a good sign."
"It's just your mind finally cooking," Tony said. "Nothing to worry about."
"Oh no, nothing at all," Damian said walking back outside and holding his hand up, flying backward into the ship in response.
"Maybe you should try focusing your thoughts," Tony suggested, looking down at Damian.
"Oh you make it so easy," Damian said.
"The fact that I'm here means you're failing," Tony said.
Damian rolled his eyes, standing and walking back outside, facing a boulder and raising his hand. Before he could activate his powers, a pair of arms wearing a bright red jacket wrapped around his torso and other arm.
"God you're going to distract me," Damian said.
"She's not letting go until you give her a kiss brow," Pietro said, leaning on the rock.
"Great," Damian said. "Better company than Tony."
"Just wait until Tony gets bored," Pietro said. "That man is all kinds of fucked up. You're going to start hearing this all night."
He began to clap in an extremely suggestive rhythm and Damian activated his powers just so that being thrown would get rid of him. A moment later, he was staring up at Pietro.
"What's that look for?" Pietro asked. "I'm a part of your head."
Damian groaned, rolling over and standing, looking at the boulder again, holding his hand out.
"I'll give you a tip," Pietro said. "Your head used to get real clear real easy. Remember the experiments? You always said you wiped your mind for that."
"Our mind," Damian said.
"Don't lump me together with you," Pietro said. "There's some pretty fucked up shit in there my friend."
"I've been living in a desert for almost a year," Damian said then shook his head. "No communication. Just invites distraction. Clear your mind. Clear your mind. How the hell did I used to do that?"
"You thought about me," Wanda said, wrapping her arms around him again. "About that split second where you passed me and Pietro after getting beat the first time. Remember?"
"Oh yeah," Damian said. "I couldn't even feel the guards hands on my shoulders as they dragged me, but I felt my hand brush you. Must have hit the one nerve in my hand still firing."
"Something like that," Wanda said. "Ready, go."
Damian closed his eyes, forcing all thought out of it, then opened his eyes again, activating his powers. A moment later, his feet were above him and he was flying through the air.
"Yeah that's effective," Damian huffed before crashing down on his back again.
"You hear that?" Pietro asked. "I hear a chopper."
"Chopper?" Damian asked, climbing up onto the top of the jet.
In the distance, there was a helicopter. It was slowly growing closer to him. He smiled. Food. Finally. Just then, the guns lit up and bullets began to slam down around him. He dove off of the top of the ship as the bullets tore past. Then, the helicopter began to swing around, the minigun in the side beginning to fire. The bullets tore along the ground toward him and he dove to the side again, the bullets shooting past. He turned to watch for them swinging around again only to see Wanda trip as the bullets sped toward her. Damian's arm snapped outward, telekinesis activating, and then snapped sideways, a boulder sailing through the air at the helicopter. Except, the boulder passed through it harmlessly before the helicopter faded.
"See, told you you could do it," Pietro said, leaning on his shoulder. "Instinct. Catching the bullets for me, throwing the boulder, even the first time you used them."
"Don't talk about that," Damian said.
"What, you don't want Wanda to hear?" Pietro snorted. "She's a part of you too buddy. Speaking of, why haven't you and her-"
"Yup," Damian said, activating his powers and launching himself backward.
He landed on his back then stood, holding his arm out toward a boulder. Then, he tried focussing on his desire to protect those around him. The boulder rose into the air. His desire to keep Wanda safe. He began to manipulate the boulder, rolling it over, moving it around, smashing it into the ground repeatedly. Wanda. He crashed down on his back, groaning. Maybe it wasn't so easy as he thought.
Day three hundred. He was out of food. He was out of water. The communicator didn't work. He was ready to go home, and he couldn't. Damian groaned. He was going to have to get home the hard way. By walking until he found the edge of the desert and getting a phone. He stood, looking around.
"I'd go that way," Pietro said, pointing. "That way's south. It's closest."
"How could we possibly know that?" Damian asked.
"Because I'm a genius," Pietro snorted. "Come on, I'll race ya."
And with that, he sped off. Damian rolled his eyes and began to walk after him, for lack of a better idea. Minutes hurt. After about fifteen, his legs were sore and his feet felt like he was walking on glass. it had been a while since he had done any real physical training. Walking over sand dunes hurt. Minutes hurt. Minutes turned into hours. Hours, turned into a day. A day turned into two. Finally, his legs gave out. He tumbled down a sand dune and landed on his stomach, groaning. So tired. So much pain.
"Well don't lie around all day," a British voice above him said. "Get up ol' chap."
He opened his eyes, staring up at the Hulk.
"Please tell me that wasn't you," Damian said.
"I can do Australian if you would prefer," the Hulk said, still British.
"Joy," Damian groaned, standing. "A British Hulk. Just what I need."
He began to walk again, Hulk following him and talking non stop, using several accents including British, Australian, German, Russian, American, Mexican, and Arnold Schwarzenegger. Damian couldn't even block it out. It's hard to block out your own hallucination. Finally, the Hulk disappeared before Damian's legs gave out and his body stopped responding. He felt his head going numb as his vision began to darken. He was out of energy. He hadn't eaten or drank in two days of being in the desert. What did that make it? Day three hundred two? Not a bad try. Probably a record for living alone in a desert. Shame no one would ever know about it.
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