Little Bird's Vengeance Chapter 7 Preliminary Interrogation
It was impossible to tell what Red Robin was thinking. There were a few clues in his posture; a slight slump to his shoulders, a little strain on his face. He was worn out, but doing his best to avoid showing it. It would fool almost anyone.
Natasha Romanov was not 'almost anyone'. But despite years of training and experience, she still couldn't get a clear read on him. He was very carefully controlling exactly what emotion he showed, and only giving the impressions he wanted to.
Right now, he was projecting an image of vulnerability and helplessness, but in such a way so as to not seem in need. Just enough to give a subliminal impression, to play on his audience's sympathies without them being aware. It was certainly working on Steve, Tony, Pepper and Bruce.
That kid was very dangerous.
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"So, your name's Red Robin?" Pepper asked him. "I'm guessing that wasn't your parents' idea."
"No, not really," he said, half-smiling. "It's like Iron Man, or Captain America. Not on my birth certificate, but still my name."
The Tower's landing pad led into a comfortable lounge, complete with well-stocked drinks bar. Tony Stark had tried to ply him with whiskey, and when that failed, attempted to make his coffee Irish. It was very disconcerting, for no other reason than because he'd been schooled into believing billionaire heroes faked the playboy lifestyle. Once he'd convinced Tony he did not want anything stronger, the other Avengers, and the Stark Industries CEO Pepper Potts, had swarmed in around him; not in a hostile way, but their curiosity taking over. More like a social function than a street fight. Pepper in particular seemed like an outsider looking in, trying to understand the nuances of the world she was attached to, but with little frame of reference.
"Why 'Red Robin'?"
"Now that's a long story, and involves referencing things that would mean absolutely nothing. Suffice to say, it suits me."
"Hey, kid!" Tony called. "How do those wing things work?"
"They're a very delicate, very sensitive piece of engineering that should not be pulled to pieces by people who don't know what they're doing."
Red Robin found himself glaring at Romanov and Barton, needing to consciously avoid massaging his hurt shoulder, and quickly reigned in the aggression. It probably wasn't their fault, and the belligerence was messing his emotional projection. It was easier to work on the others, anyway; Steve, the soldier, who wanted to shield the world; remorseful Bruce, who seemed trying to be atone for his mistakes without even realising it; naïve Pepper, who'd lose that innocence after an attempted hit or two; and the over-bearing rich kid industrialist Tony, who seemed to be thinking of him as…a new toy?
"C'mon, you gotta give me more."
Tony could get annoying after a while, it seemed. Red Robin rolled his eyes. "Maybe we can go over the basic principles behind them later." He turned to Thor and changed the subject. "Are you really a Norse god?"
"I know not of this Norse, but yes, I am a god," Thor replied.
Red Robin shrugged. "That's cool," he said.
"You don't have a problem with that?" Captain Rogers asked from where he sat on one of the leather couches.
He shrugged, thinking of Cassie Sandmark, known as Wonder Girl, a daughter of Zeus. "I've known weirder."
"You mortals have such interesting concepts," Thor commented.
Red Robin's mind flashed back to a sky full of planets, a pair of hands reaching out to crush one, to mash two together. He shuddered slightly. "Trust me on that."
"Sounds like you've seen a lot," Barton commented.
"Fair bit. Not as much as some." He shrugged, a mischievous smile coming to his lips. "I mean, I hardly ever go off-world." Let 'em chew on that.
"Go off-world?!"
"Hardly ever?!"
Yeah, that caught their attention. Carefully distributing information would keep them far too off-guard to properly interrogate him. Then he could get access to their technology, start running tests to find out if anything had changed, and hopefully find a way home. All it required was a little manipulation.
"Earth's always been a big enough concern for me," he explained. "My talents don't really lie in extra-terrestrial work."
"Sirs," came a voice out of nowhere. "Your dinner order has arrived."
At the first syllable, Red Robin was on his feet, snapping out his staff and looking around for the new arrival. He couldn't see anyone; but what was that voice?
"Jumpy, aren't you?" Tony laughed. "That's Jarvis, the computer system."
Red Robin relaxed and stashed his staff away. "In my experience, people sneaking up on me usually try to kill me." He took in the slightly revolted expressions of the room's other occupants. "But a talking computer system? I can take that."
"That's…good," Pepper said. "You like Chinese?"
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Bruce didn't know why he was surprised Red Robin knew how to use chopsticks- or that, like Tasha and Clint, used them like he also knew how to kill someone with them. At the same time, he didn't seem like the kind to kill (he seemed too nice, too friendly, too gentle for that)- just capable of it.
Tony was cooing over him as if he was a new piece of tech, and Pepper was showing signs of wanting to mother him (kid looked like he needed it). Steve had the look in his eye that said he wanted to save something- someone- from danger, and was therefore keeping his shield with him just in case.
Clint and Tasha didn't seem to be buying it. But then, that was their job.
Bruce just felt sorry for him; Red Robin was independent and capable, but now needed help, and SHIELD had stuck him in the cell they'd made to contain the 'Big Guy'. But at least, despite Clint's misgivings, he'd found the best people to help him.
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It was close to three in the morning. Red Robin had finally gotten away from the Avengers and their questioning- not interrogating, just insatiable curiosity- and been given a guest bedroom. It was pure bliss to ease off his grimy uniform (Pepper had promised to dry-clean his shirt and pants overnight) and step into the warm shower he'd been imagining for days. He stayed in long after he was clean, just enjoying the warmth.
When he finally got out and started drying off, he could hear a slight scuffling in the room. Wrapping a towel around his waist and grabbing another for his hair, he cautiously stepped back into the bedroom.
To see Tony holding his wing harness and looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Uh, Pepper sent me to get your stuff?" he said, slightly guiltily, but also clearly more upset about being caught than repentant over snooping.
"Did she. Did she give you specific items to retrieve, not including my wings, by any chance?" Red asked him, glaring- not quite like the Bat, but only a few notches down.
"Oh, maybe, uh…" Tony was fidgeting slightly. "You know, your eyes are really blue," he said.
"Thank you," Red Robin replied shortly, glancing at the mask left on the bedside table. "Please leave those alone."
"You know, earlier you said something about people pulling them to pieces. You mean something by that? Or do you just not trust me? I'm hurt."
"Yes, actually there was something." Red Robin picked up his belt and slid the medical kit out of one of the larger pockets. "The SHIELD guys partially dismantled it. I didn't have time for a thorough re-tune, so they nearly dislocated my shoulder." He pulled out a length of bandage and started wrapping the strained joint.
"You didn't say anything," Tony half-accused, frowning.
Red Robin shrugged. "It's no big deal, just irritating. But leave the wings be, okay?"
"Sure, fine, yeah," Tony said dismissively, and now he was sneaking sidelong glances at Red Robin's torso, probably disturbed by the scars littering his body. Red Robin glared at him, until he backed off. "Uh, we should talk. Tomorrow. About the wings and stuff. Yeah, you should sleep now. Um. See you in the morning." He grabbed the clothes Pepper had sent him for and scarpered.
Red Robin sighed. He was bone-tired, but at least his ribs weren't hurting anymore. He pulled his boxers back on, discarding the towel, and crawled into bed. Hopefully he'd feel better in the morning. Hopefully he hadn't caught a cold from the past day and a half (yeah, right). Hopefully he'd be able to deflect most of Tony's questions tomorrow.
His last thought, before drifting off, was full of longing for his own world, and the place in it he'd made his own.
The door opened, and Red Robin woke instantly. His mental clock told him he'd only had two hours sleep, it now being about five in the morning. His sharp ears identified two sets of footsteps, one stopping just over the threshold, the other approaching the bed. He matched the sounds with his archived memories, and inched one hand under the pillow, out of sight.
When the intruder was practically on top of him, he opened his eyes, whipped out the concealed can of sedative Bat-spray, and gassed the person.
Blinking, he confirmed the intruders' identities. Natasha Romanov was unconscious on the floor next to the bed, and an astounded Clint Barton was watching from the doorway.
"What is it about you lot not letting a guy sleep?"
AN: Ever had that feeling where it seems nothing's giving you a break? Reckon poor Red's halfway there yet? Ah, well. If you like this, please tell me! If you didn't, if you think I can do something better, well, go ahead and let me know. (Relying on me to read your mind doesn't work too well. Sorry.) If you're confused, think I've left something out and are too embarrassed to say so in the public realm of reviews, feel free to PM me and give me a piece of your mind.
Other than that, my other on-going works are still on-going, and my finished pieces are waiting to be discovered. Feel like reading something new? Don't be shy, give 'em a go.
See you next week for more lost Little Bird.
Katara