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On with the chapter!
Chapter 7
A part of her was sad and guilty that Tony's costume was covered in blood. That she and ruined it. (Of course, blood could easily wash out. Scars could not. Memories didn't fade.) She tore it off and stepped into the shower, her legs shaking, ready to give out.
She let the warm water slide over her back, her front, her arms, her legs, over her scars, over the markings. Washing out the blood. Her hair turned white again and the cold fire died in her eyes. The water on her feet ran red down the drain, creating a stain on the bottom. After thirty minutes or so, she stepped out, put her sweatshirt and loose pajama pants back on, and fell back onto her bed.
She realized the earpiece was still in. Laurel hadn't spoken since the beginning of the battle.
"Why weren't you talking to me?" Aeria murmured, her voice soft and quiet. She wondered why she was upset that her AI wasn't talking.
"You told me to stop."
"Oh. Only on that subject, though. I don't like it."
"Alright. Welcome back, Aeria. How was it?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"Just kidding. I know how it was. I saw everything."
"How?"
"Footage from Mr. Stark's AI and from the circlet jewel. I also did another brain scan -"
"Laurel. Please."
"Of course. Shall I be quiet until I'm needed?"
"Oh. Um. Yes, please. Sorry. I'm just…."
"I understand."
And for some reason, Aeria knew she did.
Later, Aeria heard the others come back in. Later, she heard that Fury wouldn't let them follow the soldiers. Later, Aeria was in her room. Alone. In the dark. Later, she remembered it would've been a full moon. Later, she knew that smoke covered the moon, covered the light. Later, Aeria felt the tears roll down her face, wetting her pillow. Later, the demons found her. They found her hiding place.
Later, Aeria entered her second battle.
Later, Aeria entered the battle against her demons.
Later, Aeria realized she wasn't good enough. Later, Aeria realized it was all her fault. It really was. The thousands of people who died when half of Brooklyn was blown up. All her. Her fault. All of it. All of it. Later, Aeria realized she wasn't good enough to be an Avenger. She wasn't strong enough.
Later, Aeria realized there was one way to prove herself.
Later, Aeria fought back the demons and stood. Later, Aeria told herself the children and mothers and fathers and siblings and people would not die in vain.
Later, Aeria slipped into a new STARK sweatshirt and sweatpants, put her hair into a bun, and rethought everything.
Later, Aeria knew she couldn't go out that night.
Later, Aeria made a plan.
Later, Aeria stuck to the plan and crawled back under the blankets, knowing she wouldn't leave that night, knowing it would be soon. She would avenge them soon.
Then it was morning.
They didn't have training that day.
First, Natasha gave an update on Clint. The ice had stopped and they were thawing it out, but the process was slow. She said the morphine's numbed the pain and that they're working on skin grafting. He'd be okay.
Next, Tony gave a lecture to Peter about safety and how if he got himself killed Tony would have to explain it to Aunt May, and to keep up with schoolwork and I've noticed you're falling behind in history and Spanish and I'm ordering a couple SAT prep books for you and better start studying for those finals, Pete.
Don't call me Pete.
Finally, Aeria spoke up.
"What are we going to do?"
They all looked at her.
"With the soldiers, I mean," she added. "How are we going to find them? Who are they? Should we trace them?"
"I think you've done enough," said Steve Rogers.
Cold began to seep into Aeria's bones. She blocked it out.
"What - what do you mean?"
"You lost control," Rhodey said. "We can't let that happen again."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? They-they were the bad guys! They were shadows!"
"Not all of them," Peter replied quietly. "Some were human. Some were men."
"They killed them!" Aeria cried. "They killed children and mothers and fathers and siblings and people! I was - I was avenging them."
"Killing people isn't avenging," Tony growled. Aeria met his eyes and glared - and they stared at her, they all stared at her, at this little girl with a broken soul and a cold heart and a dark past and fire and ice in her blood, this little girl with scars, this little girl with torture in her mind.
"I need to find out what they did," she whispered. "I need to find out what they did to them. To me. You saw their weapons." She paused, closing her eyes. "Ice. Black ice. My ice. They stole my powers. I need to find out who they are."
"This is completely unnecessary," Rogers argued. "SHIELD will figure it out."
"You sure about that?" Tony muttered, mostly to himself. Steve glanced at him and Natasha Romanoff bit her lip. "Aeria, you're - you're grounded."
"What?" Aeria exploded, flying to her feet. "What - on what charges?"
"Go to your room," said Tony. Aeria's eyes widened and her hands turned a silvery shade. Her blood started to freeze.
"Excuse me?"
"Go to your room," Tony said again. "You know what that expression is, don't you? Go. Leave."
Aeria slammed her fists on the table, creating frost to spread out a few feet in front of her, then stomped off.
"That was… harsh," Sam murmured.
"She's a kid," Tony mumbled. "We're her… guardians."
"No, we're her trainers," Bucky corrected. "SHIELD owns her. We assist SHIELD in owning her."
"So… this is basically her new prison," Natasha began, "Just with a fancier cell, yeah?"
No one spoke.
Then, "Yeah," said Tony. "Yeah."
Aeria made up her mind that day.
"Laurel?"
"Yes, Aeria?"
"Cut off communications with Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers."
"May I ask why?"
"Do it, and I'll tell you."
"Very well. I have turned off recording and communications with Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers."
"Including Edwin."
"Who?"
"JARVIS."
"Including JARVIS."
Aeria let out a long sigh and closed her eyes, briefly remembering Peter Parker's story. Escaping out at night, following the bad guys. Saving the day.
"I'm going to find them," she said.
"Find who?"
"The soldiers. The compound."
"And your parents, I am assuming."
"Ye-wait, what?" Aeria stood quickly, so quickly that a black veil speckled with rainbow shapes clouded over her vision. "My-my parents?"
"Of course."
"They're still alive?"
"Searching…"
"No, don't answer that. It's fine. Um, yeah." She stood straighter, staring out of the window at the still smoldering city. Construction was beginning - a multi-billion dollar project. Half of Brooklyn was leveled and blown up, resulting in thousands of deaths, hundreds of homes ruined, businesses gone, lives destroyed.
Your fault.
All of it.
All of it.
Your fault.
"Laurel, tonight we're going down to Brooklyn."
"May I ask why?"
"We need to find something that'll tell us who the soldiers are."
"And then? You'll be going to Canada, to find the compound?"
Aeria paused, thinking it over. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. I-I want - I don't know."
"I understand."
11:46 pm.
Aeria looked at her suit, a suit that was dirtied and torn and still had traces of blood, even though it was washed. She put on leggings and a STARK sweatshirt instead.
12:03 am.
` Aeria climbed to the roof and dove off of it, letting the wind catch her and carry her off - down to the darkened island.
12:08 am.
She landed where the center of the battle was, where she had fought. The ground was stained red still. They hadn't gotten around to cleaning up the bodies, and the air stunk of rotten flesh. When shadows were killed, they evaporated into mist, which eventually settled into black pools, so there was nothing there. But the men were still there. Bloodied bodies. Some were half-frozen, some were impaled by large, broken shards of ice (not icicles - icicles were to merciful for them).
Aeria swallowed her raspberries back down and stumbled over to one of the soldiers, who was completely frozen over. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. He died mid-scream.
Wait, Aeria thought. Maybe he isn't. Maybe -
She placed her hand on his head and concentrated, bringing back the ice, letting it seep back into her body.
The man collapsed in a puddle of water, gasping, and Aeria grabbed his collar and forced him to his feet.
"Who are you?" she shouted, shaking him. He was tinted blue and shivering violently, soaking wet. "Who are you?"
"Y-y-you're her," the man stuttered, his breath heaving. "You're the girl-girl."
"Who do you work for? Why did you do this?" Aeria demanded, shaking him again. "Why did you do this?"
"I-I can't -"
"You will," Aeria insisted. Frost crept down the man's skin, inching closer and closer to his heart. "You must."
"Others," he gasped. Aeria narrowed her eyes.
"Other? Other compounds?"
The man nodded, his green eyes drowning in misery. Why, Aeria never knew.
"Where?"
"America. Wendigo Forest in West Virginia. Canada. You-your's."
"Mine? Are there more?"
"Kenyan wilderness. Mountains in France. Forest in Brazil."
"There are others?" He didn't answer. "Answer me!"
The man opened his mouth and said, in a raspy, breaking voice, "You."
Aeria froze.
Me?
"Others like me?" she whispered, staring the man down. The frost stopped. "There are others like me out there?"
"My family," he cried. "I want my family."
Rage hardened Aeria's heart and the frost appeared once more, faster, deadlier.
"I want my family too," she snarled. The man's eyes widened and he let out a choked exhale, and then a smile - a twisted, maniacal smile.
"Susan," he whispered, "Charles. Winters."
Aeria let him go and stepped back, her heart pounding.
"Are they alive?"
The grin grew.
"I killed them."
He was dead before he hit the ground.
12:24 am.
"West Virginia," she muttered, walking away, her fists stained with his blood. "Their headquarters, I guess. Laurel, search any strange activity in West Virginia."
"There has been in increase in weapon shipments to West Virginia."
"Any name?"
"I found one record. Stane."
"Stane," Aeria repeated. The name sounded familiar.
Guards whispering it behind her back.
A word drifting through the air ducts.
Murmurs, distant murmurs.
"They killed my parents," Aeria informed her AI. "They killed them. They're gone. They're dead. I'm never getting them back."
Memories.
Wistful, blissful memories.
Warm, milky, far away.
Just… memories.
"I'm going to West Virginia," said Aeria, rising rapidly.
"Why, may I ask?"
"Because," she whispered, "There are others like me. And I'm going to find them."
1:46 am.
Aeria had been flying for over an hour.
She was already exhausted from the late night, but adrenaline rushed through her - a fierce adrenaline, a fierce longing to avenger her parents. To find the others. To save them.
Your fault.
All of it.
All of it.
"Where are we, Laurel?"
"Crossing through Maryland. Almost there, Aeria. We are close.
2:13 am.
They still weren't there. Apparently, Wendigo Forest was at the farthest reach of West Virginia, at a secluded tip, hidden in the mountains. Laurel kept trying to make conversation with Aeria, which was odd, considering she (it? she? what was an AI classified as?) was artificial.
"I'm not in the mood to talk, Laurel," Aeria snapped after twenty minutes of Laurel asking questions and telling embarrassing stories about the Avengers she'd picked up with Edwin JARVIS on the security cams.
"I must keep you talking, Miss. Winters."
Don't call me that.
"Why?" Aeria growled, forcing the wind to push her forward faster.
"Because you are reckless and are a danger to yourself and others."
"Excuse me?"
"I've scanned your brain, Aeria Winters, and -"
"Don't tell me about my own demons," and Aeria fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. She got up running, sprinting through the trees, branches clawing at her, roots strangling her feet.
2:46 am.
And suddenly, she was there.
She couldn't see it, not yet. But she knew it was there, hiding, in the trees. Like an old memory, there and there, gone again, a wish, a breeze, a thought lost to the madness of the world.
She knew.
"Laurel, mute."
"You cannot mute me, Aeria."
So she tore the earpiece out of her ear and threw it on the ground.
I'm on my own.
She flew up, cold rushing through her blood. Burning cold. At first, all she could see was tree after tree after tree, mountain after mountain after mountain. Then, through the green, was a white formation peeking out of the leaves. It was smaller than she thought. Of course, most of it was probably underground.
Aeria could see a few watch towers sticking up above the trees as well. In the distant she could hear convoys rumbling along the dirt path, soldiers speaking amongst themselves, walkie-talkie static. She floated down to the top of an oak, crouching on a branch and clutching to the trunk as soldiers marched beneath her.
3:09 am.
Then she ran from tree to tree, leaping in between branches, silent, leaving traces of ice as she went, growing closer and closer to the compound each time.
Rage.
Wrath.
Blood.
3:14 am.
She was in.
She didn't expect it to be that easy - breaking in.
What she didn't know, though, in her rage and wrath and blood, was that she was killing people as she went.
Killing soldiers.
Men.
Without even realizing it.
3:34 am.
And somehow, without even realizing it, she was in a room with metal walls and a cold floor, and instead of filing cabinets there were computer screens stacked up on each other. Keyboards lined the table - no, they were built into the table. Holographs hung in the air around her.
She didn't notice the blood smeared on the wall, the floor encased in ice.
She made her way to a keyboard and searched.
Aeria Alexander Winters.
Her file appeared in a holograph around her.
Aeria glanced at the video options, something clawing at the pit of her stomach, a demon gnawing at her mind. A video of her being exposed to the radiation in her cell. A video of her being shocked over
and over
and over
and over.
A video of scalpels digging into her skin, of surgeries without anesthesia, videos of her being shot and of bullets being dug out of her flesh.
Rage.
Wrath.
Blood.
Pain.
Hurt.
She skipped past her general information - the notes, the observations, the tests.
Then she saw the names. Susan Ann Winters and Charles Roderick Winters.
Hesitantly, she pressed on them both and blinked away tears as two pictures popped up.
The first was of a beautiful woman with shoulder-length auburn hair. She had creamy skin and freckles across her nose and under her emerald green eyes. Oh, the eyes. They were brilliantly green and brilliantly beautiful. There was a something in them - a twinkling diamond, a hidden secret. The picture only showed her face, but it was enough.
The memories were becoming less distant.
The second was of a handsome man with short, cropped dark blond hair. He had tan skin and dimples and gray-blue eyes that held a certain wisdom in them. His smile. Oh, his smile. There was a something in the smile - a twinkling diamond, a hidden secret. The picture only showed his face, but it was enough.
The memories were becoming less distant.
Aeria shut out of the page and stumbled back against the wall - the wall slick with blood - and slid to the floor, her hands clutching her head, leaving red prints against white hair.
Focus, Aeria. Focus.
Mom.
Dad.
Mommy.
Daddy.
Come back.
Focus!
Aeria stood again and grabbed an empty hard drive, then plugged it into the computer and hit download Aeria Alexander Winters. She would look at the rest later.
Now. The others.
4:01 am.
She exited out to the main database and stared at the possibilities.
Weapons.
Tests.
Drugs.
Compound locations.
Aeria Alexander Winters.
Ian William Montgomery.
Robin Ash Mathews.
Madeline Felicity Waters.
She clicked on compound locations first and hit download again, but not before skimming over the places.
The soldier in Brooklyn was right. The main compounds were in West Virginia (as the headquarters), Canada, Brazil, France, and Kenya, however it seemed that English was spoken at all of them. The minor compounds were in Afghanistan, North Dakota, Chile, Finland, Mongolia, Thailand, an island in the Philippines, and Saudi Arabia. Aeria left that and searched for anything that would give an idea to who those people were.
She scrolled through the possible file options, searching, searching, searching.
Then.
Confidential.
Wonderful.
She clicked on it and was greeted with a password.
"That's just great," Aeria muttered, typing in the first thing that popped in her head. Guacamole.
Nope.
Chocolate.
Nope.
Raspberries.
Nope.
Stane.
Nope.
Stane4thewin.
Yep.
Aeria could of cried from happiness as she was greeted with what was almost like the 'settings' page of the compound. It showed her the soldiers, the directors, the doctors, everything. A name stood out like a flag - in larger print, at the very top.
O_B_ A_D_I_A_H-S_T_A_N_E
Aeria narrowed her eyes. She remembered what Laurel had told her in one of her ramblings about how Tony knew someone or was friends with someone or something named Stane - Obadiah Stane.
Didn't he die?
Aeria hit download again and went back to look at the other children.
They were all 13, just like her. All born on the same day: May 4th.
One had fire powers.
One had telepathic powers, like Wanda.
One had earth powers.
Ian was Brazil, Robin was in Kenya, and the girl, Madeline, was in France.
Aeria swallowed the hard lump in her throat and hit download.
There are others like me.
And then the blade entered her stomach and everything faded into nothingness.
Hoped you liked it! This time, I have a challenge.
Tell me the perfect superhero. And no, a perfect superhero isn't perfect. A perfect superhero has flaws, a dark past, struggles. But they always do the right thing. Here's the prompt:
Real superhero:
Who, to you, is the most 'perfect' superhero in the MCU?
Fake superhero:
Create a fake superhero that, to you, is perfect. They must have flaws, a past/history, struggles, etc. What's their name? What are their powers? Love interests?
Leave your answers in the reviews and in the next chapter I'll choose whose 'fake' superhero is my favorite!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry updates have been slow - school. If you liked it, leave a favorite, follow, and review! (Not just the challenge)
