Prologue

From what I've heard they were a happy family. . .

. . . until a former enemy came seeking revenge. . .

. . . until the twins got caught in the crossfire of bullets and magic. . .

. . . until Wanda Maximoff lost everything that mattered.

Chapter 1

God, he should have just stuck with comic books. Billy sighed to himself as he sat in his cell, a metal collar secured around his throat, the tiniest hum coming from the device that would detonate if he showed any sign of retaliation. It petrified him, so much that he didn't even move an inch, afraid any move he made would scare the people watching the security monitors and they'd blow his head off.

He sighed again thinking about his parents and if they knew what had happened to him. Would they be more heartbroken that he was locked up in a cell, a criminal. Or would the fact that he'd lied, that he'd been keeping things from them be the real heartbreaker? He should have told them, when he discovered he'd had powers he should have told them. They would have understood, or at least tried to understand. He was lucky to have parents like them and now he had no idea when he'd see them again. If he'd ever see them again. He'd been an idiot. He'd let this whole thing go from one small good deed to blowing itself completely out of proportion.

After he'd discovered he had powers he hadn't been sure what to do, until he'd seen a robbery at a convenience store across the street when he'd been walking home from the library one night. He remembered the strong urge to want to help, that wasn't new, he'd always wanted to help people but he also wasn't stupid enough to run after a purse snatcher with a knife or a robber with a gun. He'd always kept his head down, said a quiet prayer, and kept walking. But after what he'd done to Kessler at school, that flash of blue light, that warm, powerful feeling that had repelled his own attacker - he couldn't help but wonder. Could he do it again? On purpose this time?

Before he knew it his hand felt warm, there was another flash, this one tiny and miniscule, and the robber across the street tripped on nothing and landed face first onto the pavement just as he'd been opening the door to flee the scene. Only it hadn't been nothing, Billy had seen a similar blue flash at the man's feet just before he went down. Customers in the store who'd been helpless then saw their opportunity and dove on the man, two men pinning him down while another kicked away the gun in his hand. Billy had just stood there across the street speechless as they called the cops who showed up minutes later.

That's what had given him the idea and before he knew it one thing led to another and soon enough he was putting on a homemade uniform and fighting crime.

The weeks passed and the missions became grander. He still stopped convenience store robbers but he'd also pulled some people from a burning building, stopped a robbery at a bank ATM and stopped a car thief. He'd even seen photos of himself in a few small newspapers every once and a while. He remembered the relief that he was listed as an 'unnamed superhero' and that his identity was unknown. Guess all it took was a headband huh? Who knew?

However, there was still such a thing as facial recognition software and apparently he'd reached the point where the government officials who used that tech began to notice him. But even in his wildest dreams he never thought he'd be on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s radar, or what used to be S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn't sure who was running it anymore, no one did, especially after what had happened in Washington D.C. about two years ago.

Whatever government organization that had picked up the pieces and took over where S.H.I.E.L.D. left off didn't seem to be as hero-friendly. That was perfectly clear when an armored truck and a few cop cars boxed him in on the way to school one morning and insisted he go with them.

"William J. Kaplan?" a man in a suit with grey hair and mustache asked as he exited the most expensive looking vehicle of the bunch. "Of 616 West 87th street, Upper West Side, Manhattan."

The way the man rattled off his full name and address, like he was telling him more then asking him, made Billy even more nervous. So nervous that the only shy response his mind could come up with was the face palm worthy, "People call me Billy."

The man was undeterred though and tucked his hands into his pockets as he took a step closer to him, "Well Billy we're going to need you to come with us."

He glanced at one of the men in body armor holding a large gun and he swallowed to try and moisten his now bone dry throat, "O-okay."

That was about as polite as the man – Secretary Ross, he'd find out – would be to him. Once they had Billy in custody he was handcuffed and shoved around. They sat him in the back of the truck with a guard on each side, and another leaning against the back door. As if they were trying to prevent any kind of escape. Nothing Billy could have done would have worked anyway, he was still new at this and his powers took a lot of focus and he was just too scared to even get his mind to stop spinning with questions and anxiety.

They took him to what he assumed was some top secret facility and made him strip. They took his backpack and his clothes and he hadn't seen them since. They'd thrown a blue jumpsuit at him which he'd quickly put on to try and preserve some of his dignity and shortly after that his arms had been pulled behind his back as a guard grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. At first he'd nearly peed himself thinking they might slit his throat. The only calming thing he could think of was if that's what they wanted to do they would have done it long before that moment. Instead, they'd strapped on that collar and the guard explained in a gruff voice that if he tried anything with his powers, or anything in general, the only thing left of his head would be a splatter of blood on the wall. He'd nearly peed himself again and a small part of his brain patted him on the back for excellent bladder control.

Then he'd been handcuffed again and transported somewhere else. They airlifted him miles away and he'd only gotten a glance out the window of something rising from the ocean before they landed and were inside the hidden structure. You're never getting out of here. His mind had finally figured out. They wouldn't send you to a place like this if you had any chance of leaving. Forget a trial, forget a court or a lawyer, you're guilty of trying to be a superhero and now they're locking you up for it. He thought about all the people he'd helped, the strangers, people he'd never met before and he wondered if they'd been worth it. Somehow he couldn't find it in himself to regret saving them. But at the same time he just wanted to cry. This place, this was a huge deal high security prison for maniacs and criminals and those words applied to him now. Just last week his mom had brought up how before they knew it Billy would be picking a college to go to and now. . .

He hung his head and pressed his forehead to his knees as he curled up into a ball on the floor with his back to the wall. He let the tears fall freely, he used to try and hold them back before he realized what was he waiting for? It wasn't like a funeral where you held yourself together until you had a private or proper moment to let it out. He'd be here for the rest of his life so there was no shame in giving in and crying himself to sleep, again.

But before he could he heard slow clapping. His lifted his head and looked to his left at the bars of his cell. There were other cells in the circular room with people in them, people who had been there before Billy showed up. How many days had it been since? He had no way to tell without a clock or windows to let in the sun. It was probably a few days but it had felt like an eternity so far.

He'd never paid much attention to the other inmates, there was no need to really. No one spoke to each other and Billy didn't want to risk stepping out of line and getting killed in a fiery explosion. But the clapping was just too out of place.

"The futurist, gentlemen!" the clapper announced with false cheer, "The futurist is here! He sees all! He knows what's best for you, whether you like it or not."

Billy noticed a man standing in the center of the room, his dark attire helping him blend in with the room around them. His arm was in a sling and when Billy squinted to get a better look he noticed that-

Holy sh- is that Tony Stark?!

Billy didn't get a better look, Stark turned to the man clapping and approached his cell.

"Give me a break Barton." Stark replied. Clint Barton? As in Hawkeye? "I had no idea they'd put you here, come on."

Barton spat, "Yeah, well you knew they'd put us somewhere Tony."

"Yeah but not some supermax floating ocean pokey, you know? This place is for maniacs. This is a place for –"

"Criminals?" Barton asked as he stood, "Criminals Tony. Think that's the word you're looking for. Right? It didn't used to mean me. Or Sam, but here we are."

"Cuz you broke the law. I didn't make you." Stark reasoned while Barton started muttering la, la, la, la, la to block him out. "You read it, you broke it. Alright? You're all grown up you got a wife and kids. I don't understand. Why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side?"

That made Barton stop and turn back to Stark, "You better watch your back with this guy." Barton slammed his bars, "There's a chance he's gonna break it!"

Stark walked away and down the line of cells.

"Hank Pym always said you can't trust a Stark." The guy in the next cell over said.

"Who are you?" Stark asked.

Billy heard a soft, "Come on man."

Then Stark got to his cell. He locked eyes with Billy as he passed but never stopped moving. For that brief instant he looked surprised that Billy was there being kept on the same level as his team, or former team it appeared. Then he moved on out of sight to the next cell.

"How's Rhodes?" a voice asked.

"They're flying him to Columbia Medical tomorrow so. . . fingers crossed." Stark replied with the first bit of emotion Billy heard in his voice but in his next sentence it was gone. "What do you need? They feed you yet?"

"You're the good cop now?"

"I'm just the guy who needs to know where Steve went."

"Well you better go get a bad cop. Cuz you're gonna have to go Mark Fuhrman on my ass to get information out of me."

"Well I just knocked the A out of their AV." Stark said casually, "We got about thirty seconds before they realize it's not their equipment. Just look."

There was a small beep of something technological and Billy leaned forward but otherwise didn't change his position on the floor. He knew Stark had the biggest arsenal of gadgets and gizmos out of anyone in the world and whatever his own imagination could come up with would be nothing in comparison to whatever toy Stark actually had access to here.

"Cuz that, is the fella who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. Clearly I made a mistake, Sam I was wrong. –"

"That's a first."

Stark ignored the interruption, "Cap is definitely off the reservation, he's about to need all the help he can get. We don't know each other very well, you don't-"

"Alright." Sam replied. There was a pause. Neither man spoke and Billy's curiosity started clawing at his insides as he continued to eavesdrop. "Look I'll tell you. But you have to go alone and as a friend."

"Easy."

And just like that Billy was overcome with the strongest urge to help. The same feeling he'd gotten when he'd see someone at gunpoint, or being beat or grappling with a purse snatcher. Only now it hit him ten fold. He looked to the ground feeling helpless but that self pity and sadness from earlier wasn't there. It was only the desire to help and he promised himself that if he did ever get out, no matter what they did to him in here, no matter the consequences of his heroic actions. If someone ever needed his help, he wouldn't hesitate to give it.