Chapter 1: Back in Black
Part of Tony didn't want to be here. The last time he was here was three weeks ago, when he questioned the others about Cap's location. Now, things were different. All he had to hope for was that they'd give him a chance. He doubted they would. In their eyes, he was the one who had them locked up in the most advanced and secure prison on the face of the earth.
As Tony watched the prison sink under the ocean through a pressurized window, he absentmindedly played with the burner phone in his pocket. There was only one number on it.
Steve.
He opened the phone and read the only two messages on it.
Me: I'm reassembling the Avengers. Don't break into Raft. I'll handle it.
Steve: Take care of them. I'll come if you need me.
Tony read Steve's words over and over again. Steve was still wrong about being under supervision, but maybe Tony could start to clean up this whole mess.
"Sir?" a mechanical voice called behind him. "Are you alright?"
Tony turned to find Vision giving him a concerned look.
Vision had begged Tony to bring him along when he found out Tony was heading to The RAFT. It didn't take a genius to know why he wanted to come. Tony just didn't know if Vision was ready to see the horrors that this underwater hockey puck of death had to offer.
He hesitated. "Nope, I'm fine." Slipping the burner back in his pocket, he walked through a large steel door with the android in tow. They came to a room with dozens of screens adorning the walls and found Ol' Thunderbolt himself, staring at the different monitors.
"Mr. Stark," Secretary Ross said in a low voice, not even looking at him.
"Hey, how's warden life treating you?" Tony started, plastering a fake smile on his face. "Doing good? Got a little Zimbardo experiment on the side?"
Ross's face remained expressionless, but Tony noticed a very familiar twinge of annoyance in the geezer's tired eyes. "Are you about done?" he asked.
Tony shrugged, "Well, I mean, it's still early in the morning."
Ross rolled his eyes, "I wouldn't recommend pissing me off, Stark. After what you convinced the UN to do, don't be shocked if I throw you in one of those cells just to watch you squirm."
Such a sad threat didn't faze Tony. "You, my friend, really need to learn roasting etiquette because that wasn't remotely a good comeback. Right Vision..?" Tony trailed off when he noticed Vision staring intensely at one of the monitors.
His eyebrows knitted together, and his shoulders sagged.
"Vision?"
Vision didn't answer. Tony was pretty sure Vision didn't even hear what he said.
Tony looked over his shoulder, and the sight made him sick.
A small figure huddled against the wall of her cell.
If he was going by the red hair alone, it must've been Wanda, but everything else looked wrong. She laid on her side against the metal floor and curled herself into a tight ball with her arms stretched across her chest by a blue straitjacket. If she hadn't been shivering, Tony would've thought she was dead.
Her hair spilled across the floor, but now it looked dull and lifeless, much like her once green cat-like eyes. This person wasn't the Wanda he had seen three weeks before. All Tony saw was a sickly and broken girl.
Tony's jaw tightened, and his fingernails dug into the palm of his hand. "What the hell am I looking at?"
Ross glanced at the screen nonchalantly. "Maximoff? What of her?"
Tony's stomach turned, and he glared hard at the commander. "Do you get off on torturing a seventeen-year-old girl?" he asked.
Ross's face stayed in that same emotionless expression. "As far as the UN is concerned, that girl is still a weapon of mass destruction. Or did Leipzig elude your memory?"
Of course, Tony remembered. It was hard to forget the crater Wanda blew into the landing lane or how she threw soldiers left and right with her freaky powers but did those actions truly warrant this kind of treatment?
"Then how are you keeping her docile?" he asked, though Tony wasn't sure if he wanted the answer.
"She's being sedated with psychoactive hallucinogenic medication for the safety of the guards as well as her own," Ross went on, "she's also wearing a neuroelectrical shock collar to deter any thoughts of using her abilities to attempt an escape."
Vision's yellow eyes filled with fury. "You're doing what?"
Ross turned to Vision. "Stark," he said, "keep your pet toaster on a leash, would you?" With that, Ross began walking towards the cell blocks.
Tony glared at Ross.
Vision grabbed Tony's arm, his shoulders sagged, and a desperate look on his face. "Please let me see her."
"You will, buddy, don't worry," Tony said, offering a reassuring smile.
Vision nodded before the two went through a steel door and entered a long hallway that branched off into multiple cell blocks.
One, in particular, had CELL BLOCK R3 written over the threshold. It was where they were keeping Clint and Sam. Tony took a deep breath and slowly exhaled while he stared at the red button that would open the door in front of him.
Tony took multiple breaths, trying to psyche himself up.
This shouldn't be so hard for him. He's an old pro at selling ideas, and he did it with the same charm that he had for everything else. Even with all the preparations, there was still the lurking feeling that he would fail miserably.
The door opened, and Tony turned back to Vision. "You coming?" he asked.
"Actually, sir," Vision said, taking a small step backward. "I'd rather stay behind. I'm not exactly the best when it comes to appealing to people."
Tony shrugged, "Well, you've definitely appealed to Wanda."
Vision straightened. He tried to look at anything but Tony and shuffled from foot to foot.
"Best of luck, sir," Vision said, trying to change the subject. "I'll be here when you've finished."
Tony winked at Vision before turning back to the now open steel door. Better now than never, he thought as he went inside the compound.
Inside, nothing had changed. The cellblock still housed Clint, Sam, and that one other guy whose name was escaping him, but time had definitely passed for everyone.
Sam was in his cell, pacing back and forth like a caged bird. He looked thinner like he hadn't been eating that much. His hair had grown out a bit, and his face was stubbly and unkempt. The prisoners of The RAFT must not have even been allowed razors.
Clint, however, was sitting on the floor with his back to the wall. His legs were splayed in front of him, and his eyes were shut. His short brown hair had grown, turning into sweeping bangs.
Lastly, there was that one other guy who had come with them. Tony had never really paid much attention to him before and couldn't remember his name for shit. Though, he did remember that guy had pretty cool shrinking technology. It's kinda hard to forget the man who crawled into his suit and started tearing it apart from the inside out. Now he was sitting on his bed, staring at his fingers, and twiddling his thumbs back and forth.
Tony coughed, catching everyone's attention. Sam had turned on a dime and immediately glared at Tony once he realized who it was. Clint glanced at Tony out of his peripheral vision but made no reaction before shutting his eyes again. The one guy with the shrinking tech, however, looked at him with an intrigued curiosity. He even turned towards Tony, giving Tony his full attention.
"So," Tony started. "How're you doing?"
Sam raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "What do you think, Tony?"
"Well, you look good," Tony said, pointing at Sam's scruffy beard. "You're rocking the facial hair. Got a distinguished Denzel going on."
"Why are you here?" Sam interjected, "Why would you even think we'd want to talk to you?"
Tony ran his hand through his hair, "Yeah… I kinda screwed up-"
"Screwed up?" Sam said, his eyebrow arched. "You know where you're standing, right? You know where you put us, right?"
"I'm sorry this all happened. But let me tell you-"
"No, you don't get to say anything," Sam seethed, "there isn't a damn thing you could say that I would even consider listening to."
Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. This wasn't the greatest of starts. "I want to reassemble The Avengers."
Clint made an audible groan and thunked his head against the wall of his cell.
"After throwing us aside like trash?" he asked. "What about the Sokovia Accords? You get on your high horse about following the law and being a model citizen -like you're one to talk- and now you're basically saying 'Screw It' to the government?"
"Yeah, not exactly," Tony said with one of his trademark smirks. He pulled his sleeve back, revealing his newest watch.
It had a screen displaying an article from a newspaper on it. With a swift tap, the display was magnified to the size of a flat-screen television, illuminating the cell block in bright blue light.
The article showed Tony. He was grinning his usual smile and shaking the hand of a rather displeased representative of the United Nations. In front of them was a copy of a thinner version of the Sokovia Accords, which had to be missing about 100 pages. The headline above the picture shouted, "TONY STARK NEGOTIATES NEW SOKOVIA ACCORDS WITH UNITED NATIONS."
Sam edged closer to the bars of his cell, his eyes squinting with cynicism. "What am I looking at, exactly?"
"The latest draft of the Sokovia Accords. One where the Avengers can reform and operate as usual but with the law on our side. We can remain a privatized industry, paid for by yours truly, as long as I give monthly reports of progress to the UN," Tony said as he pulled the article back down onto his watch.
"I met with the Supreme Court and managed to convince them that you guys ought to be freed," he went on. "I even convinced them that Steve and Nat shouldn't be considered enemies of the state. Then the new Sokovia Accords were brought to the UN and agreed on by 100 countries. So, everything will go back like before. We can carry out our missions and protect the people relatively on our terms-"
"What do you mean, 'relatively'?" Sam spat from behind bars.
"Well, there are certain requirements for each Avenger that the US government wants us all to fulfill, but I had them looked over, and nothing is too serious," he explained. "Mostly, we would be observed for the first six months after our reinstatement in hopes of the UN understanding our conduct. If they find it suitable, i.e., minimal damage and casualties, then we'd be free to run things as we usually do."
Tony peered through the bars, scanning the others' faces for any sign of approval. His heart lifted when a ghost of a smile crossed Clint's lips.
"How the hell did you of all people convince the UN to approve this?" Clint asked.
"Well, I've always had a charming personality. I'm pretty easy on the eyes, and I have a laundry list of the best lawyers in the country. Millions of dollars to donate to hospitals and schools for the good PR," he said in a careless tone, "I also had several personal testimonies put in by very high-status people. The list goes on.
"So, if you guys agree to come back, I can get you out of this underwater hoosegow. As a bonus, the UN even agreed to have any previous encounters with the law scrubbed. From first-degree murder to an overdue parking ticket, and that's even if you don't want to join."
The guy in the farthest cell leapt to his feet in astonishment. "You'll have criminal records completely scrubbed?"
"Yup, it's already done. As of now, you're a free man," Tony affirmed with an arm stretched out to the guy. "I'm sorry, the name is slipping my mind. Who're you?"
The guy's shoulders sagged, and he sighed loudly. "Scott Lang? Ant-Man?" he asked. "Maybe you know a Hank Pym?" his eyes narrowed at that last question.
Tony shook his head, "Sorry, can't say I have. But hey, it's great to meet you."
"Tony," Sam's voice interjected, bringing Tony's attention back. "Why do you care so much anyway? What's in it for you?"
"Well, Sam, I've had a change of heart-"
Clint snorted.
"Seriously, Barton?" Tony said, his voice feigning hurt, "I'm trying to be sentimental here."
The archer rolled his eyes, mockingly zipping his lips shut.
"Thank you," Tony nodded. "Honestly, the world needs the Avengers back. It can't afford to be unprotected. I can't fix everything that happened last month, but if you let me, I'd like to start making amends."
As Tony finished, there was a long silence. He said his piece, and now he could see the gears turning in their heads.
Sam spoke up first, "What does Cap think of all this?" Of course, he would think about Steve first.
"He knows what I'm trying to do," Tony explained, " I told him my plan, and he was on board."
"If Cap is in on this, then why isn't he here?" Sam asked, his arms crossing. "I can't believe that he wouldn't come to see that we're alright."
"He's at the compound. There wasn't enough room on the jet."
Another moment passed before Scott sat back down on his bed. "So, what do you guys think?" He asked the others, "Frankly, I'm sold. Even if he's a Stark, I think this one is worth trusting."
Sam still stared daggers at Tony. "I doubt this is all as black and white as Tony makes it out. For instance, I doubt we'll be getting our gear back."
"Actually, I already have it," Tony replied, "They're at the compound too. Yours and Barton's stuff is all there waiting for you."
"We won't be told where to go?"
"Not unless a country is in a state of National Emergency."
"And if we want out?" Clint asked, still leaned against his cell. He hadn't moved a muscle this entire time, and Tony found it a little off-putting.
"Then your bags are already packed. You can go home with no strings attached. Your gear will be kept, though, if you decide you want to come back. However, you won't be ordered to do anything. So are we done now? Are you guys in? I've got Scott," Tony said, turning back to Sam, "Sam?"
Sam wrinkled his nose as he mulled it over, "If Cap is in this, then I'm in too. But if he walks, then so do I."
"Completely understandable," he said before turning to Clint. "Barton? You sold?"
Clint got to his feet for the first time, and Tony could finally see how thin Clint had become. He had lost more weight than Sam, and the muscles in his arms started to atrophy. The corners of Tony's eyebrows knitted together as he wondered how much The RAFT fed their prisoners, if at all.
"No," Clint said in a low voice, "I'm not in the slightest. I mean, can you blame me, Tony? You've always cared about yourself, so what makes this any different? I'm sick of dealing with that massive ego of yours."
"I'm trying to extend an olive branch here, Barton. I don't care about what happens to me this time, not when lives are at stake because of our personal squabbles. If you're still not sold, then think about your kids. I'm sure they want their dad back, and doing this is the fastest and easiest way to go see them again."
Clint clenched his hands, then unclenched them. A vein was throbbing in his forehead like he was fighting back a burning fury. "So you've got this all planned, don't you?"
"I'm about 98.2% sure I've thought about everything."
"Alright, then what about Wanda?"
The million-dollar question.
Sam's ears perked at the name of the Sokovian girl, and his eyes narrowed. Clint looked at Tony intently, ready for the Scott looked concerned.
"I asked," Clint said slowly, punctuating each of his words. "What about Wanda? Do you even know what they're doing to her? We haven't so much as heard her name in three weeks. We don't even know if she's still alive!"
Tony felt a rock drop in his stomach . All he could see was that broken little girl in her cell curled up and mumbling to herself like an invalid. "She…" Tony trailed off, "Once all this is cleared up, I have plans to get this place shut down and-"
"Tony!" Clint yelled, his eyes narrowing, "What are they doing to her?"
Tony sighed, shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "They're using neuroelectrical shocks administered through a collar and heavy sedatives to keep her from using her-"
"They're what?" Clint yelled.
Sam held his head in his hands, completely lost for words.
"I didn't know until an hour ago what they were doing to her," Tony stated. "But I'm just as pissed about it as you guys are, and I'll be damned if I let it continue."
Clint leaned in as close as he could without pressing his face against the bulletproof glass in front of the bars. "I want out. I want to get her now ."
After Tony had the guards release everyone, he regrouped with Vision. Then they and Clint were taken on their journey to Cell NZ42. They were escorted by a heavily armed jarhead dressed in looked like he was ready to go to war rather than monitor prisoners.
As the four walked down the hallway, Tony noticed how many cells there were. Unlike the other block, where cells were separated into clusters, this block was lined with them. Most of which were empty.
"Hey, Private Ryan," Tony started. "What's up with all the empty cells?"
The guard ignored Tony's comment but still answered his question. "This is a relatively new part of the prison. Since most of our prisoners are simply men with dangerous technology and weaponry, we didn't need specialized security. After enhanced individuals came along, Ross decided it was best if we had this section built with the capability of imprisoning these individuals and nullifying their powers."
Clint sneered. "And that's why you're keeping Wanda higher than a kite right now?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom.
"Yes, actually," the guard explained. "Maximoff freak's powers are activated telepathically, so we keep her heavily sedated to keep her from having...dangerous thoughts."
"Her name is Wanda," Vision mumbled. "And she's not a freak."
"She is in my book," the guard said, not even sparing Vision a glance.
Clint's hand clenched into a fist so tight that his knuckles turned white.
Please don't do something stupid, Tony pleaded.
When they came to the end of the hallway, they were brought to a very different cell than the ones the others were put in. This one had no door or even bars. Its entire front wall was a one-sided window, showing a complete steel room inside.
The front wall was flanked with heavily armed soldiers like their guide, except they had a gauntlet on their left wrist. On it was a touchscreen with two buttons: a dial and a simple red button. The inside of the metal tank was windowless and had no furniture, save a small table and toilet. It didn't even have a bed in it, and Wanda was still curled up on the floor. She looked worse than she did on the monitor screen. Her skin was ghostly pale, and her face was gaunt. Dark circles ringed her glazed eyes, and her bare toes were tinted blue.
All the air in Tony's lungs was sucked out of him. He didn't want to keep staring at her, but he couldn't bring himself to look away.
Steve always called her a kid, but Tony used to not want to think of her as such. Maybe he wanted to see her the way his father had seen him at her age. After all, Tony was a grown man by age seventeen. When he was her age, he had graduated from MIT and went on with a life of parties and fun. He didn't have to worry about superpowers or government prisons. This was a completely different world, a world he had thrown her in before he had even met her. Well, he was going to make it alright again, starting today.
A guard lifted a leaver and the glass wall began to rise until it disappeared into a slot on the ceiling. One of the three casually walked into the cell, his gun still cautiously pointed at Wanda as he approached her, but Wanda didn't seem to acknowledge his presence.
"Maximoff," the guard barked, "Let's go."
She didn't say a word.
The guard grabbed her arm and was about to pull her up when Wanda jolted to life. She thrashed out of his grip as she desperately whined and whimpered. In her struggles, she sunk her teeth into the man's hand. He yanked his hand out of her mouth and cussed. A hint of blood dripped from his skin. He turned the digital dial on his gauntlet, and a hellishly loud buzz came from the collar around Wanda's neck. She screamed a hoarse and raspy cry and fell on her back as she spastically writhed on the floor.
Clint threw himself forward, but Tony caught him, using all his strength to hold Clint back.
"Stop it! Leave her alone!" Clint fought against Tony's grip with his teeth bared. "Kid! Kid! " he cried.
Vision was frozen where he stood. The expression on his face was a mix of horror and disgust. Tony felt a twinge in his chest. He knew he teased Vision a lot for having a crush on Wanda, but this had to be hurting the android so much.
When the buzzing died away, Wanda went limp on the floor. Her hair splayed around her in a tangled mess, and her shoulders spiked up and down as she audibly wheezed for air. Her body still seized up now and again as the last of the electricity left her body.
"Maybe," Vision said, catching everyone's attention, "I could be of assistance?"
The guard threw his hands in the air in surrender, "Sure, why not?"
Vision walked towards Wanda, cautious not to frighten her any further. He knelt beside her, caressing his knuckles against her thin cheek.
"Wanda," he whispered to her, "Wanda, it's time to go. Wouldn't you like to go home?" He very gently held Wanda in his arms, brushing the strands of hair from her pale face.
She looked up at him with her tired, sunken eyes. They glinted with realization, and tears spilled down her gaunt cheeks.
"Vizh?" she said in a gravelly whisper. "You're real..?"
A flash of pain crossed Vision's face, but he quickly stifled it.
"Yes, Wanda. I'm real," Vision managed, "Are you ready to go home?"
There was a long moment of silence, almost like Wanda was trying to decipher what exactly Vision was trying to say.
"Home…" she finally whispered, leaning against his chest, her cheek pressed against him like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to this world.
As the guards took off the straitjacket, Wanda didn't squirm this time. She didn't even whimper. Her arms just flopped uselessly to her sides. When they peeled the collar off, Tony thought he would vomit right then and there. Her neck was almost black with bruises and untreated burns. The inside of the collar was coated in Wanda's blood, which had browned from being burnt on, and a large needle stuck out on the side, no doubt what administered her sedatives.
Clint freed himself from Tony's grip and rushed over to the Sokovian. He knelt beside her and rested a hand on her head, his thumb rubbing against her hairline. When her eyes met him, he gave her a soft smile. "Hey Kid, how're you doing?" he asked, his voice cracking.
Wanda didn't answer him.
Vision hugged Wanda tightly, and her eyes fluttered like she was fighting the urge to fall asleep. "Is this real?" she whispered to no one.
"Yes, Wanda," Vision said softly, "this is real."