A/N: Woohoo! A super long and very Nik-centric chapter! I really rushed to finish this by tonight, since I'm leaving for camp for a week tomorrow. Viva la girl scouts! So, sorry if it seems a little forced. Also, the first three people to review this chapter telling me their favorite character and why get to help me name my three protags for my next big next-gen Marvel thing. It will feature the children of the Falcon, Spider Man, and the Winter Soldier, with a guest appearance by the Iron Patriot's daughter. Fun fun fun!
By this time, some of you may be wondering what happened to Pepper, and why she has not appeared yet.
I am so sorry for this
Disclaimer: I own nothing but these teenage losers
If he was being totally honest with himself, Nik had no idea what they were supposed to do next. But then again, honesty didn't exactly run in the family.
From what they could tell, Sky had only managed to recover from the spell because Hel had drawn her rune circle last, and, having used up most of her energy for the others', hadn't completed it properly.
"Thank the lord for exhaustion" Sky had said. Nik couldn't help but agree with her.
So for the foreseeable future, they had someone guarding Hel at all times, making sure she didn't pull another one of her dark-magic art sessions.
Nik tapped his sister on the shoulder, relieving her from guard duty. Before she left, she elbowed him and winked.
"So…" she began, "Got any 'Special friends' lately?"
"Not that I know of."
"No gal pals?"
"Nope."
"People of interest?"
"None."
"…Friends with benefits?"
"Sky, I can speak twenty different languages and I am fully prepared to so 'no' in all of them."
Sky sighed. "Brother dearest, when will you learn that my persistence in these matters knows no bounds?"
"Right around the time that you shut up. By the way, Sage set up a poker game in the living room. Things were getting pretty heated when I left. I wouldn't miss it if I were you."
Sky dashed to the elevator. "This isn't over!" she yelled as the doors closed.
Nik rubbed his temples. He would love to avoid the topic of dating forever, if he could help it. Besides, there were more pressing matters at hand than whether he liked Stark in that way. Which he totally didn't. Obviously. Of course.
He looked up as Hel chuckled. Nik groaned internally. She must have heard everything. The sooner they got her out of there, the better.
"Trouble in paradise?" she asked sweetly.
"Don't you have some world domination to be planning?" he snapped.
"You seem troubled, Barton," she noted. "Although your relationship issues don't seem to be the problem."
Nik said nothing, although she was right. He'd seen his eyes change twice since the last time, his irises turning black. It was getting harder to force them into normality. The last few times had been accompanied by an overwhelming desire to punch a wall, to hit something. It was a cold feeling, and strangely calming. It felt like it was filling a piece of him that he didn't know was missing, right in the middle of his chest.
"I don't have to deal with this," he said. "The sooner you shut up, the better things will be for everyone."
Hel shook her head. "You're denying yourself. I can feel something within you, Barton. Something that doesn't belong there. I can help you."
Nik snorted. "For what price? Freedom?"
She shook her head. "Just a common courtesy. Free of charge."
He weighed his options. On one hand, he could finally figure out what was happening to him. On the other, it could be something horrible. A huge secret that could tear them all apart if he discovered it. That was almost certainly Hel's intention.
But he knew he couldn't wait forever. Something told him that the violent urges would get worse. Not finding out could be just as dangerous to the team as discovery.
Cautiously, he drew one of his guns, keeping it aimed at Hel's forehead as he unlocked the door and stood in front of her.
"Give me your hand," she instructed.
He held out his hand, palm upwards. "Just so you know, if you try to freeze-dry me you'll have a bullet in your brain before you can say popsicle." Okay, so not his best line. He doubted she even knew what a popsicle was.
She rolled her eyes. "Mortals. So quick to assume."
She took his hand, sandwiched between hers, chanting in an old language he didn't know. Luckily, he didn't feel sleepy, and didn't catch on fire. However, the shadows in the room seemed to darken and creep towards them. The calm, cold feeling rose in his chest. What was stopping him from shooting Hel right now? It wasn't like she served them any purpose. She was just a nuisance, a problem to take care of sooner or later. Why not sooner? His finger twitched on the trigger. Just on little tug would do it.
What are you waiting for? A tiny voice said in his head.
Hel's hands snapped back as she gasped. Whatever she had seen in his head hadn't been good. Her gray-blue eyes were wide with surprise, and, if he wasn't mistaken, terror.
Nik struggled to push down the dark feeling. It wasn't easy. It was like keeping a wild animal in a cage—the more you let it out, the more it hated going back in.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered, asking Hel just as much as he was asking himself.
"I'm not sure you want to know," Hel admitted. She wasn't lying, he was sure of it. He could always tell. "If this is what I think it is… You should get as far away from everyone as you can. Even I did not expect this. No one has. I…We all thought he was dead." She trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.
He replied, his breathing a little shaky, but he didn't let it show. "So, I guess that's it for your world domination plan, huh?"
She looked at him seriously, without a hint of her usual twisted humor. "If what is happening to you is a sign of things to come, there soon may not be a world to dominate."
Nik took the elevator back down to the fiftieth floor after Jeremy had taken over his post. He weighed his options in his head. He should tell the others what was happening. Something was happening to him, and it wasn't good. But there wasn't a use in worrying them until he knew more.
The elevator doors slid open, and a piece of metal hit him in the middle of his forehead. He dropped to the floor, drawing his guns and biting his tongue to keep from cursing. Nik picked the projectile, a tiny metal racecar, off the floor and took in the scene.
Two of the couches were overturned. Sky, Tara, and Mary Anne were crouched behind one, and Sage and Travis were huddled behind the other. Sage and Sky screamed at each other, while the others handed them small objects to fling across the room. Cards were scattered across the room, like an amateur magician had tried to do a card trick and failed miserably.
This was by far the worst Monopoly game Nik had ever seen.
"You landed on my property, Banner!" Sky shouted, fast pitching a little metal Scotty dog at Sage.
Sage ducked. "You were the one who ignored my monopoly, you incompetent Katniss rip-off!"
Sky gaped, her face red. "You… you…overused movie cliché!"
Banner snorted. "Oh no, I'm shaking in my metaphorical boots."
"Oh, hey Barton," Tara said cheerfully.
"Uh, hi," he replied. His arrival didn't stop the bickering girls, who were determined to out-shout each other. "Stark, can I talk to you for a second?"
"Sure thing, Black Widower," she said with a wink. She dodged flying objects and insults and stood in front of him, her eyes twinkling. Her and her crazy gold eyes. They were more complex than he had noticed before. They were a very light brown, almost a bronzy color until her irises met her pupils. That's when they turned almost yellow, like sunlight.
He cleared his throat. "I think it's about time that we, uh…"
"Shadow beast got your tongue?" she teased.
"I just, I really think that…"
"Just spit it out!" she laughed. "Well, don't actually spit. That would be absolutely disgusting."
"I think that we should check on your dad. To see if he's still here."
Her grin shrunk, and her dark eyebrows knit together. Her eyes darkened, all traces of gold and bronze turning to coppery brass.
"Then go check on him. He's probably in his study. Four floors down. Say hi for me." Tara turned to go, but Nik grabbed her shoulder. She yanked it away and stepped into the elevator. She refused to look at him as the doors closed, taking her to the rooftop.
Nik sighed. He had suspected that the situation between Tara and her father was strained, after the accident, but she was being downright rude.
He waited until the elevator had dropped her off. It was time to take a visit to the thirty sixth floor.
Nik found her sitting on the edge of the roof, her eyes dark and locked in a staring contest with the skyline. He sat down next to her, letting his boots dangle over the traffic below.
He said nothing. She could probably guess the result of his search.
"He's gone, huh?" She said after a moment. Tara sighed. "It's a little surprising, actually. Why the kidnapper would want him is beyond me."
"He's still an Avenger, you know," he replied. "And in his defense, there were scorch marks on the walls. It looks like he fought back."
Tara laughed humorlessly. "Those have always been there. Thanks for trying to make me feel better, though."
"It's the least I can do. They're all gone now, you know. The Avengers. They've all been taken by somebody, and now there's no one left between Earth and the baddies."
"Well, the Earth has us, right?"
"I guess," he admitted, although he was not brimming with confidence for their team.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was incredible how loud the absence of something could be.
Tara suddenly grabbed a handful of roofing gravel and threw it as hard as she could off the roof. Nik pitied the poor soul trapped under the rain of pebbles. She groaned and buried her head in her hands. "This is so stupid," she muttered.
Nik wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Was he supposed to say something, or give her a pat on the shoulder, or both?
She took a deep breath, tucking her hair behind her ears. She still refused to look at him.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that you already know why my family is such a mess," she said.
He did, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "Well, not…really…"
"Don't try to lie to me. I'd be able to tell."
"Would it help if I pretended not to know?"
"I guess," she sighed. He waited patiently for her to begin. She sighed.
"My parents got married about sixteen years ago. I was born a few months later, which wasn't a big surprise to anyone. We lived out in their house in California. I've got to admit, they were great parents. There was this one time, at one of the Stark Expos, that I have a picture of. I'm about three years old in it, sitting on my dad's shoulders. There's some guest speaker there—I forget who—but neither of us are paying attention to her, because we're both laughing about the french fry that I threw at her. It got stuck in her hair, and she had no idea." She smiled now.
"Another time, when I was five, my mom took me to one of the staff meetings at work. I was just about to get into preschool, and I was really excited about being able to tie shoelaces. She thought I was just coloring on the floor, but I crawled under the table and tied everyone's shoelaces together." Tara's smile faded. "That was when we were all happy.
"I was only seven when it happened. I made my dad promise to take me to the lab the next day, and he did. He forgot that he had a meeting in DC scheduled for the same time, so my mom decided to go instead without telling him, so he wouldn't feel guilty for forgetting."
This was the part he knew. The part he didn't want to hear.
"She took the Stark Enterprises jet."
He knew, she didn't have to tell him, she didn't have to go on—
"Hydra had slipped a bomb into the engine."
None of this should have happened.
"She never made it to DC."
Tears dripped silently down her face. She didn't react when he slipped his hand into hers.
"After that, my dad started drinking again. He didn't get mad, didn't hurt me at all. It was like he just… faded away. He would disappear into his study for days at a time. Then weeks. Then I didn't see him for a few months.
"When I was eleven, he started to get better, I thought. He would come out for meals every once in a while. We could hold a conversation for a few minutes, sometimes. Then Rhodey got shot down. The Iron Patriot machine malfunctioned. It couldn't save him.
"My dad blamed himself, and he disappeared again. He just… couldn't take being responsible for the deaths of the people he was closest to. The bomb was meant for him. His suit failed. He forgot that there were other people counting on him. I was counting on him. I didn't just loose a mother, and an uncle. I lost a father, too."
She got up and paced, lost in her angry thoughts. "I was only seven. What makes him think that it was okay to be so selfish? I know he loved her. I know that. But… he was supposed to love me too." She sat down in the gravel and buried her head in her hands. Nik got up and sat next to her. He still said nothing.
"I graduated from college last year," she continued quietly. "I have PhDs in physics and engineering. The day I graduated, he came out of his study. We talked about everything. About inventing, about how to build a suit, about mathematic theories. It was the happiest day of my life, by far." Her voice cracked. "The next day, he was gone again.
"Do you know who would sign all the school forms? Jarvis. Who would make sure I was eating enough, who made sure my dad got food? Jarvis. Hell, Jarvis was the one who gave me the talk! He's the one who's done everything for me. I was raised by a computer. My best friends were the robots that my dad built, which sounds really pathetic. But it's true."
She took a deep breath, wiping the tears off her cheeks and steeling her expression. "So basically, it doesn't make a difference that he's gone. He was never really here, anyway."
"Tara—"
She shushed him. "Don't say anything, okay? Just listening was enough."
He nodded. She threw on a smile, a smile that could have been faked since the beginning, and walked to the elevator.
"Hey, Nik?"
He looked up at her.
"Thanks. For caring."
And for the first time in a while, he genuinely smiled.
Nik wasn't sure what he was doing awake. The digital clock said that it was well after midnight. He was using his comforter, but he still felt cold, and totally awake. He felt like a machine.
If he was near a mirror, he would have seen his eyes. He would have tried to force the feeling away. It wouldn't have worked, but he would have tried. Instead, he threw back his covers, and pulled on his shoes and coat, grabbing his belt on his way out of his room and clipping it around his waist.
"You should be asleep, Mr. Barton" Jarvis scolded from the speakers.
"I'd appreciate if you kept this our little secret, Jarvis," he replied, almost without thinking about it.
"If you're thinking about leaving the Tower, I'll have to lock you in, sir."
Nik sighed. "I'll be fine."
"I don't think that—"
Nik slipped a scrambler from a pocket on his belt, connecting it to a control box near the elevator. "And I don't think that I need your help right now, Jarvis. Maybe you're the one who needs to sleep for a while."
When Jarvis tried to speak, his voice came out jumbled, marred by static. Jarvis's voice quieted with a soft, machine-like whirring sound.
In the elevator on the way to the lobby, Nik halfheartedly wondered what he was doing. Why was he awake? What did he think he was doing, disabling Jarvis? But a little voice somewhere in the back of his mind told him not to worry about it. Worrying never led to anything good. It sounded a lot like common sense to him, so he let his mind go blank as he reached the lobby. It was a lot easier that way.
He had to pick the lock on the front door to get out onto the street, but it wasn't that difficult, and it was worth it. He was out in the fresh air, with no one around him except for the usual suspects you would see at one thirty in the morning. He wasn't worried about them, though. He wasn't worried about anything.
There was one person on the other side of the street, though, that didn't belong. He was a tourist, that was obvious, and was clearly lost. No cell phone, no map, looking around in a confused manner. He was out of shape and not dressed warm enough for the weather, with a big bushy mustache and tiny glasses that he kept pushing up his nose, a nervous tic. And most importantly, he was standing near the entrance of a dark alley, and he was alone.
The first thing Nik did was flip his hood over his head to hide his bright hair. The second thing he did was slip a knife from his belt. He flipped it over and over again in his hand. He wasn't sure why.
The little voice was back in his head again. It reminded him of things he hadn't known he had forgotten. Like how the man was alone. Like how there was hardly anyone else on the street. Like how he knew that no one would miss him.
Nik blinked. The voice was suggesting murder. The unnecessary kind. He was an assassin, but that didn't mean he could just kill people for fun.
Doesn't it? The little voice asked. What harm would it do? You could. Easily. You should. There would be no harm in it. Just a little fun.
He grew colder and calmer with each word. He didn't have to worry. He had nothing to worry about.
Just a little fun.
