A/N: A huge thank you to everybody who followed, favorited, or commented on this story! And to everyone who read it as well. I'm literally squealing and jumping up and down every time I see that one of you liked my story :)))
-Chapter 4-
"It's only three o'clock in the morning. Are you sure you don't want to sleep some more?" Jarvis's voice came out of nowhere.
I started, nearly tripping myself over the jeans I was pulling on. "Jesus, do you always scare Tony Stark like this too?"
"No. Mr. Stark usually requires a greater stimulus to be woken up every day."
"Are you sure you're not being sarcastic?"
"As I have told you before, no. I am not programmed to be that way."
"Sad. You have so much potential." I straightened my shirt. "To answer your question, I don't want to sleep anymore."
"If it is the nightmares that—"
"It's not." That was a lie, and both of us knew it. Hard to keep stuff away from someone when they have total access to your room. To his credit, Jarvis didn't push.
I pushed the bathroom door open and flipped the light switch. Just like I did the last few days, I stepped in front of the mirror, eyes closed. Reaching forward, my hand found the cool smooth surface of glass, and I pressed my palm against it.
Please? I thought.
And I opened my eyes.
Nothing.
"Screw you," I muttered. But of course, the mirror wasn't the one with problems. I was. Panic—and maybe even hate—already simmering over the past few days, threatened to boil over. With a deep breath, I tried to calm myself. It was okay. Or, it was not okay, but I would try to make it be.
Suddenly, the last thing I wanted to do was to stare at the mirror, standing calm and cold against the marble walls while I was burning from the inside out. I left hurriedly.
Throwing myself into the chair, I spun around to face the writing desk, whose top aligned neatly with the bottom of a window, which I reached forward and opened. It gave way easily—but only a little, jamming at about five inches outwards. I snorted. Trying to keep me from getting out, huh?
Not that I would try even if the window opened fully. My room was dozens of floors above the ground. I'd fall and splatter all over some innocent pedestrian if I tried to climb down.
The sky outside was still dark, the city sprawling beneath me lit up like an electric circuit. Even so early, cars were still speeding across highways.
Eventually, my eyelids began to feel heavy. Despite what I told Jarvis earlier, my head drooped and I fell asleep.
. . .
"You'll be sleeping here," the woman said.
I peered into the room. It was larger than the one I shared with Andy, but it was so … bare. Just a thin bed. Table and chair. Tall ceilings and none of the Pokémon stickers Andy and I stuck all over our family's apartment.
Worse, the smell was wrong. It was the same musty apartment scent, but the tone was different. I hated it.
"I want mama." A familiar storm began stirring inside me, and hot, angry tears welled over and spilled down my cheeks. I swiped them away roughly, and my hand accidentally brushed against my right cheek. It stung badly. It was going to leave a scar, the doctors said so.
The woman sighed and stooped down, her hands settling on my shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Ava. But this is your new home now."
My new home. That wasn't true. This wasn't my home. And this woman, how dare she comfort me, how dare she act like my mother when she wasn't. How dare they act like everything was alright? Couldn't they see how shattered my world was?
The woman tried to draw me into a hug.
The storm inside me reached a peak, and my last restraint snapped.
I shoved her away from me, and she stumbled back, shocked.
"No!" I screamed at her, as loudly as I could. My throat, still raw from crying, began throbbing. Good. Let it hurt. "I don't want you here! Go away! Go away, go away, go—" My voice suddenly lost its strength, and I slumped down beside the bed, sobbing.
The woman straightened. There was a soft rustle as she reached into her jacket, and then a familiar click. "Well, in that case, I have no choice."
I froze. Slowly, I turned to meet her eyes.
She was holding a gun.
"You are such a nuisance." The woman sneered at me, and pulled the trigger.
Bang
And the world around me exploded—
I opened my eyes.
My head leaned against the chair at an awkward angle, which explained the crick in my neck.
"Are you alright?"
It took me a few moments to register the voice. "Jarvis?"
"You were muttering in your sleep," he said.
"It happens to everyone." I wiped my hands against my forehead, and they came away damp. Ugh. Sweat. The insistent pounding of my heart began to subside, and my breathing slowed.
That wasn't real, I told myself. It was my first foster home, but Ms. Strail definitely didn't pull a gun on me. She was one of the nicest people I had, actually.
"You're meeting Ms. Romanoff in fifteen minutes," Jarvis said.
"Fifteen?" I shot up in my chair. "It's already seven forty-five?"
Standing up and brushing myself down, I straightened my clothing. Not that anyone but me could see them. The moment I put on any clothing, they disappeared, only coming back to view when I stopped touching them. I could probably walk out naked right now and no one would notice. The thought did nothing to calm me.
"Alright, Jarvis. How do I look?" I said. "Just say something nice."
"You look wonderful."
"Aw, thanks, but it's just something I threw on randomly." I beamed at the empty room.
"You are quite strange," Jarvis said.
"I would think so, since no one can actually see me." I pulled on the pair of red sneakers I'd set aside earlier. "Bye!"
"I could speak in the hallways too," Jarvis said as I strode down the corridor.
"What? So you're literally everywhere in this building?"
"Yes."
"Creepy," I said, impressed. "It's like you're haunting the Avengers Tower."
"Ghosts are not real."
"I never said you were a ghost." Soon, I reached the end. There was already commotion in the living room—that was what I called it—ahead of me, and I could hear people talking. My gait slowed. I hesitated.
"Would you prefer if I introduced you?" Jarvis said.
I took a deep breath. It seems like I'd been taking a lot of deep breaths lately. "No, it's okay."
"Good luck then, Ava."
"Thank you," I said.
"You are welcome." And with that, he was silent.
I walked in. When I saw the people inside, whatever introduction I'd planned sizzled out. There were three other people in the room other than Romanoff. I recognized them immediately.
The Avengers.
Some of them, anyway.
Steve Rogers was cooking something—I smell bacon—in a pan at the kitchen in the corner, an apron tied to his waist. The other two, Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, sat at a large breakfast table that could seat maybe ten people. Romanoff was beside them. The image was so normal it was jarring. I had to blink for a few moments to actually comprehend the scene.
"—and afterwards I'll send the results to Dr. Cho," Stark was saying. He glanced around the table. "That okay with you all?"
There were yes and okays. Were they talking about the tests? I leaned forward, wanting to hear what they had to say when they didn't know I was around. Rude? Maybe. But in my experience, very informative.
Unfortunately, the conversation moved on. Stark stood up. "I'm getting more coffee," he announced.
"That's your second cup today, and it's not even eight yet," Banner said.
"Well, when you drink six cups every day, the effects sort of diminish." He went to the coffee machine and pressed a button. "I bet I could make a super strong coffee pill or something."
"Please don't tell me you're planning to develop your own drug," Banner muttered.
I moved forward, tentatively at first, before forcing my steps to become firmer. "Hello. You can't see me, but—"
Stark chose the same moment to get back to his seat, his path directly crossing mine. I tried to maneuver around him, but this sort of thing usually only works with efforts from both sides, and hearing a disembodied voice suddenly talking didn't help. We collided into each other.
"Shit—what the hell—" He lost his balance, his warm coffee splashing all over me.
In that split second, I turned back visible. I could tell. A nearly intangible tension originally wrapped around me and my clothes—suddenly relaxed.
The entire kitchen of Avengers gaped at me. Even Romanoff seemed faintly surprised.
I looked down at the giant brown stain slowly spreading across my white t-shirt and dripping onto the carpeted floor, and then back up at them. I opened my mouth. "That was … inconvenient timing."
Seconds passed. They continued staring. There was a faint tinge of smoke.
"Your bacon's burning," I said.
"I—" Rogers turned back to the pan, his brows furrowed. "Damn."
"Language," Stark spoke up immediately, with a hint of a smirk, despite me standing awkwardly before him drenched in coffee. "And in front of a kid, too."
Rogers paused for a moment, and sighed. "You're right. Sorry." He shot me an apologetic look.
Wait, this was what they were hung up about now?"
"Is no one going to talk about how she just popped into existence in front of me and spilled my coffee?" Stark raised an eyebrow and glanced over the room. "What's your name again, kid? Avelina?"
"Ava. I didn't spill your coffee, you spilled it. And over me," I said, a little defensively.
"Maybe you should go get a change of clothing," Romanoff said. Did she look amused?
"Right." I had to suppress a scowl. "See you."
I hurried back to my room.
Pulling on a new shirt, I went into the bathroom and examined myself in the mirror, turning my face to the light and studying every detail like some hardcore prima donna about to make her debut. In my defense, this was the first time in five days I'd seen my own face. When I spent hours terrified that I would never see it again.
Same dark hair. Mouth downturned slightly. My average five-foot-two height. A little thinner, maybe, and there were some shadows under my eyes.
And finally, the scar. All the way from my temple to my jaw.
I pressed a finger against the smooth, upraised line, glaring at its reflection. I hated this stupid thing, but I'd never been so glad to see it.
Maybe my invisibility would just go away now … though I had a bad feeling it was too much to hope for.
When I got back to the living room, everybody was already seated, plates of food in front of them. Stark had a fresh mug of coffee, steam curling off in white wisps. There was a seat set out for me, with toast, bacon, and a glass of orange juice, between Romanoff and Stark.
"Hey," I said.
They turned around, and Romanoff nodded at the table, beckoning me over. I did as she said and pulled the chair out, sitting down.
I looked down at the food, and then at everybody around me, who was already eating. Again, so normal it was weird. I'd never envisioned the Avengers eating breakfast, although they obviously had to eat food. "Sorry about the coffee," I said to Stark.
He flapped his hand at me. "Don't worry about it."
"And thanks for the food," I said after taking a bite of the toast, which was actually very good. "It's delicious." I got a smile and a nod from Rogers for that, so I counted it as the right thing to say.
"It is good," Stark said, "Good job using modern day appliances, old man."
Rogers's smile melted off and a look of exasperation replaced it. "I'm old, not stupid."
"Who knows what all those years of freezing might've done to your brain, Cap." Stark stabbed at a piece of bacon with his fork, and pointed it at me. "Maybe you should do the tests with her. Would you mind, Ava?"
I wasn't sure what to say to that. Thankfully I didn't have to say anything because Romanoff came to my rescue. "Stop bothering her and let her eat, Stark."
"Don't be such a killjoy." Stark took a sip of coffee.
The look Romanoff sent him would have withered trees, but he just shrugged and tipped his cup at her. "That just kind of proves my point, you know."
Romanoff opened her mouth, but I beat her to it before she could snap at him. "So, do you guys always eat breakfast together?"
Rogers shook his head. "No. We all have our own problems to solve, so being together as a team doesn't always happen."
"We only get together for the big stuff," Stark said, "like, you know, when the world is ending."
That was supposed to be a joke, but I felt disconcerted. Only for the big stuff? So my test results warranted at least some of them to gather. I knew this whole situation was messy, but … not exactly to this extent.
"Eat up, guys. We've got work to do," Stark said.
Only Romanoff and Rogers seemed to notice my uneasiness. A glance passed between them, and Romanoff gave me a look that I think was meant to be reassuring, while Rogers gave me another small smile.
I smiled back tightly, and was about to focus on the food when suddenly, the tension snapped back into place on my skin and clothing, as well as the fork I was holding.
Everybody started in their seat, their eyes darting back and forth.
Damn. Not again.
"Now that," Stark said. "felt weird."
"Yeah, that happens when you suddenly disappear in the middle of breakfast," I shot back, my heart sinking.
"Well," Stark said. "at least we won't have to change our plans for the experiment now that you're invisible again."
. . .
"Just two floors above?" I said.
"Yup." Stark pushed the elevator button. "Just two. But the elevator is monitored by Jarvis, so it would only take people to the lab if I allowed it." He put on a stern look, half serious and half joking. "So don't try to sneak up there or something, okay?"
As if I'd do something as stupid as that. Jarvis and I were on friendly terms, but there was no doubt he would do something drastic if I did anything against his boss. "Of course not."
The elevator glided to a stop.
"Come on," Romanoff said.
The five of us stepped out, and into Tony Stark's laboratory.
And … God.
It was a scene straight out of a science fiction movie. Incredibly advanced-looking machinery lined the walls and tables. Computer screens everywhere … that were see-through. They weren't computer screens. They were holograms. And again, that killer interior design seen all over this building, well-lit with white light. Not to mention the awesome view of New York City.
"We should get started on some basic questions," Banner said, jerking me out of my thoughts. He nodded toward one of the chairs in the corner. "Have a seat."
The rest of the day passed in a blur of questions, tests, and complicated machines. Countless measurements, scans, and things they asked me to try and do. And talking to people who couldn't see you—it was so weird, especially when I had to give them an account of what happened that night in the alley. Disconcerting when people are looking to the wrong place when you talk, or when they jump a little in surprise if you spoke up suddenly.
By the end of it all, I was exhausted, slumping down on a large, worn-out couch that did not fit in with the aesthetics of the rest of the room. Romanoff and Rogers sat at the other end of it, waiting for Stark and Banner—who seemed more energetic than ever—to finish off the last of whatever calculations they were doing.
"We still need some time to process the data, and I might want to do some more tests when you are visible again," Stark said. "But for now we did some pretty good work."
"Well?" I said, leaning forward. "What is it?"
There were a few beats of silence. I looked around, but their faces were all closed off, the way adults' were when they wanted to keep something away from you.
"We're technically not allowed to tell you," Banner finally said.
I stared at him. "What do you mean?"
"This whole situation is supposed to be under wraps," Stark said. "There's a lot involved in this that's connected to more… consequential things we don't want to drag you into."
"You can't be serious." I stood up from the couch, unable to keep still. "I'm the one who's invisible, the one who participated in all those tests, and you can't tell me anything about it?"
He grimaced. "Sorry, kid."
"No." I whirled around to face them all, even if they couldn't see it. "A 'sorry kid' doesn't cut it. I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but this is something important. The only reason why I agreed to these tests was so that I could get more information."
"Ava," Rogers began.
"Alright. Then I could give you something," Stark interrupted, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "Your invisibility means that you couldn't sensed through electromagnetic waves—aka you couldn't be visually seen. This phenomenon affects other objects of relatively small to medium size, such as clothing or pencils and whatnot, when you touch them. You could still be sensed through other ways, such as sound, heat, and physical presence. You couldn't control your power. That good enough for you?"
I glared at him, and hoped he could feel it. "No. That's just a fancy way of restating everything I already know."
"Too bad, because that's all we could give you."
Rogers turned to him. "Stark—"
"What?" Stark said. "We couldn't tell her. The less she knows, the better, and it doesn't help if she throws a fit over it."
"Look, I'm not trying to be unreasonable." I lowered my voice, keeping it even the best I could. "I get that this is a dangerous situation. I get it, okay? But this is my life. Ms. Romanoff told me that it won't ever be the same again because of this invisibility. So shouldn't I have the right to know things about myself? Just about myself. Nothing else."
Rogers sighed. "We're not trying to be unreasonable either, but this … It's just too big. What happened to you was only a part of it, but it's linked to so many other things. International threats. Danger. Things you should stay out of."
I tried one last time. "What if it's something critical? Like if the invisibility's going to injure me?"
"There's no indicator that your powers are hurting you, the tests says that you're in perfect health." Banner might've looked a little guilty, but he didn't seem to support me.
"And if there was something like that, we'll tell you. But only then," Stark added.
I looked to Romanoff. She was the only person who hadn't spoken yet, but just like before, I couldn't get anything from her.
"Please," I said finally.
Rogers's expression wavered slightly, and I held my breath. Just a little nudge, a few more seconds, and I was sure he'd give in. But finally, his face settled back into that same firm, albeit slightly regretful look. "I'm sorry, Ava."
It's not fair, I wanted to say. But when had that ever worked?
Besides, what could I do to them? They were the Avengers. I was one teenager.
"Fine," I said, stiffly. "Okay. Then our work here is done today?"
Stark nodded. "Yup."
"Okay," I said again. "I'm going to go to my room. Thank you for the tests today … I think." Rogers looked like he wanted to say something else, but I turned and weaved my way back through the lab to the elevator. Whose opening button I tried not to punch.
. . .
I closed the door behind me and flung myself onto the bed, face first. The moment my body hit the mattress, I felt myself turn back visible.
Yep. Do it when it wasn't helpful. Like when no one was actually around to, you know, see me.
Jarvis seemed to sense that I didn't feel like talking right now. Or maybe he was just angry at me for fighting with his boss. I had no idea.
I sat up and looked around, and spotted the pillow. Grabbing it, I hurled it across the room as hard as I could with a shout. It hit the wall with a dull thud and landed beside the door. I took the other one and was about to throw it too when there was a knock.
Sighing, I stood up and made my way to the door. I opened it. "Yeah—? Oh, hi."
It was Romanoff, who seemed a bit surprised by my regained visibility but didn't comment on it. "Why is there a pillow on the floor?"
I shrugged, too tired to feel nervous or censor my words. "Weird things happen all the time these days."
She raised an eyebrow. "It certainly does."
"So …?" I said.
"Yes?"
"So why are you here?" I asked. "Did something come up? Is it another test?"
"No. I'm here to take you to dinner."
I frowned, confused. "Why?"
"Aren't you hungry?" she said.
"Well, yeah. But don't you have better things to do?"
"Do you?" A smirk broke out on her face. "Are you going to come with me, or are you going to keep sulking in your room?" She nodded at the pillow.
I rolled my eyes at that. "Alright, fine, I'm coming. Am I even allowed to go out of the building?"
"We're not going out of the building." She gestured at me to follow her. "Come on."
"Where are we eating?" I asked as we reached the elevator in the living room, the same one that took us to Stark's lab.
"Cafeteria in the lower levels," she said, hitting the button. "Many Stark Industry employees work there. We can take a private lounge."
We reached the designated floor soon. The moment the elevator opened, the sound of people crashed over me like a wave, and I was nearly dizzy with a hit of excitement. It felt like a century since I'd been in a crowd. I didn't get to stay, though, because Romanoff immediately pulled me aside into a hallway in the corner, and inside a room that I assumed was one of the private lounges. "Anything you want in particular?"
"Pizza." Nobody couldn't go wrong with that.
"Sure. I'll be back in a minute. Stay here. I don't want a whole floor of people see you accidentally turn invisible."
I sat down on one of the plush chairs surrounding the gigantic oak wood table. There was a mini fridge in the corner of the room, and a TV on the wall. I found the remote on the corner of the desk and turned it on.
"—And the weather seems like it will be particularly good this weekend …" The man droned on.
Romanoff eventually returned with a box of pizza, a salad, and two sodas stacked on the top. She set those on the table, and took the seat opposite of me.
"Thanks," I said, picking off a slice and taking a bite. "Wow, this is actually really good. You guys have good food around here."
She didn't respond to that. She didn't even take any of the pizza. Instead, Romanoff paused for a few moments, eyes flickering up and down my face.
"You're angry with us," she said.
"Yes," I said. No point in lying to her, because I was sure she could see through it.
"Because we won't tell you anything about this situation, even if it has to do with your own powers?"
"I guess." I cracked a soda can open. "Not that it's any useful."
"What's not useful?"
"Me being angry," I said. "What can I do? Throw a tantrum at you guys?"
"I think you're underestimating yourself," Romanoff said.
I snorted. I couldn't help it. "Me? Never."
But the look in her eyes was deadly serious, so much that my short laugh died midway. "People often has the ability to do more than they believe."
"What are you trying to say?" I asked.
"You want this information, don't you?" she said.
"Of course."
"I couldn't give it to you." She leaned forward slightly. "In fact, part of me agrees with the rest of the team. Circumstances are too dangerous for you to get fully into it all. But I also think there are some things you should know, so my advice to you is this: keep your eyes open and listen. It'll be useful … especially with your abilities."
"Why are you helping me so much?" Mirroring her gesture without even realizing, I leaned closer and my voice dropped lower, even though there was nobody else in the room.
"I was the one who stopped the man from shooting you in the basement." Romanoff shrugged. "I'm just seeing this whole rescue thing through. And there's another thing I want you to know."
"What's that?"
"We're not your enemies."
"I do know that."
"You don't trust us. I could sense how tense you are from a mile away when you're with us—I'm not accusing you of anything," she added when I opened my mouth to protest. "Like I said before, I understand. But remember that we're trying to help you too."
"Alright," I said. "I'll try to trust you. It's just that the whole thing is … frustrating."
"You think?" The corner of her lips quirked up, and the strain in the air loosened.
"And since you're trying to help me, there's one more thing I wanted to ask," I said hesitantly, before I could lose my nerve.
She stared at me, waiting for me to go on.
"I was wondering if you could teach me how to fight." There. It was out. I rushed on. "And I know you're super busy, and have tons of stuff on your plate, but I just … If you ever happen to have time or something …"
She didn't ask me why I wanted to learn. Instead, she said, "It'll be hard."
I nodded.
"And you just call it 'fight', but it's much more complex than that. You'll have to spend hours and hours of time. It will hurt. At one point you might regret it if you aren't careful."
I nodded again, watching her closely for further reactions.
She sighed. "In any case, I don't think anything I say now will convince you to not do this. I'll teach you. If only you could defend yourself if you need to—and honestly, I think you will."
A smile broke out on my face. "Thank you, Ms. Romanoff."
"You won't be thanking me when you're lying on the floor dying of exhaustion." But she was smiling too. "And call me Natasha."