"Tony, I'm not saying you're obsessed, but you really should be doing other things than searching for a teenage girl… like sleeping, for instance."
Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and looking up from where he was examining a news article. "It's not a wild goose chase, Sam. I swear, I saw that kid blow up a coffee shop."
Sam put a hand on Tony's shoulder, using the other one to close out of the news article ("Coffee Shop Boiler Explodes in Freak Accident, Nitrous Gas Causes Hallucinations"). "Look, Tony, if it makes you feel better, I'll go out and look for her. You still have the video from your helmet, right?"
Tony nodded, tapping on his workbench a few times until it popped up. A first-person POV through the eyes of Iron Man, something that anyone would pay millions for. Usually he would sell this footage, make a lot off just a video of him flying over the skyline. An occasional peek to the left or right showing off his gauntlets and the amount of views would skyrocket (ha, skyrocket. See what I did there?). However, this particular video would have to stay a secret- there was an entire 10 seconds that showed a blast of light, which died down to reveal a demolished coffee shop, and in the middle of it all a teenage girl with glowing purple eyes and a heaving chest, who ran off immediately after the light died down.
Sam sighed, taking his hand off Tony's shoulder to run it through his hair. "Last known location?"
"The mutant hospital in Ohio. Apparently the place blew up… just like the last three places she's been to."
Sam nodded, already inputting the hospital's location into his suit's GPS. "I'll check it out, and if I find her I'll bring her back here, to a holding cell. We'll see what we can't find out from her then. Sound good?"
Tony nodded wordlessly, already pouring another glass of whiskey from the bar on the counter.
"And, Tony?"
"Hmm?"
"Take a shower, you smelly bastard."
-IDK HOW TO DO A LINE BREAK-
It had been days. Maybe even a couple weeks. And I still hadn't seen a single building.
It's almost as if they didn't want a rogue mutant escaping and attacking a nearby city. Weird.
The purple in my eyes had all but retreated, leaving behind a slight hint of the color if you closed your eyes and squinted, but it hasn't gotten as bright as it had been the night of my escape. I hadn't used any magic since then, either, so that probably has something to do with it.
I started humming The Farmer In The Dell to myself, just to make the time go by easier, and about halfway through it my third and final tank of backup gas ran out. I swerved to the side of the road and inched my way to a stop, the ambulance making one last feeble wheeze before dying completely.
Great.
I figured I couldn't be too far away from civilization, especially because I've been driving in one direction for so long, so my very smart brain said to start walking.
And, of course, because I'm an idiot, I did.
I did, however, remember to bring all the remaining granola bars and I.V. bags with me, though- after the second night I had put one of the needles in my arm and taped it in place. Unpleasant to constantly have it in there? Sure. But it would be much worse if I had to constantly take it out and put it back in. This way, I could just connect a tube up to my perpetual hand-needle and the other up to the bag, and I'd be set to just hang the bag up on one of my backpack straps and give it a squeeze every so often to make sure the fluid was getting to me.
Stretching my arms and legs, I scoured the ambulance one last time for anything else that might be useful, and once I had collected my bounty (three vials of morphine, a hypodermic needle, and a little pouch of mutant-enhancement juice, whatever that was) I set off.
Nothing like trekking hundreds of miles on an open road to make you miss your stolen ambulance.
It wasn't until I was about a mile away from said stolen ambulance that I heard it.
A whining sound, not unlike a small engine. I squeezed the I.V. attacked to my arm, just making sure I wasn't dehydrated and hallucinating. Nope, still there.
As it got louder, it occurred to me that I might actually want to look at whatever it was. I turned to face the source of the noise, but all I saw a was what had to be a bird, floating on thermals toward me.
Wait a minute… the air was completely still. That bird couldn't be riding thermals, right? It had to flap to fly. So why were its wings so still?
That's not a bird.
As it came closer to me, I was able to make out more- it was long, much longer than it should be, and what I thought were bird wings were far too square.
I turned and began running, trying to summon the pulsing purple energy like I had done so easily in the past, but it wouldn't appear. I could feel my eyes burn and my veins swell with the pressure, but the magic wouldn't manifest itself.
I slowed to a stop, deciding that I couldn't outrun the thing, but I might have a chance of getting up a shield if I focused hard enough.
Deep violet stained my veins and glowed in the palms of my hands, but all I could manage was a flicker of energy before it dissipated.
The thing was far too close for comfort, and I decided to just accept my death. I probably wasn't going anywhere anyways, might as well see what's about to bring my early demise.
It was a man. One with metal wings, propelled by rockets.
I froze in place, belatedly realizing I should come up with a plan, even if it is to just chug morphine and hope death doesn't hurt as much as I'm led to believe.
Wait, I can't just chug morphine, I'll probably die. And there's no time to hook up a bottle to my I.V., either. Great.
I shook as the bird-man landed in front of me, his metal wings retracting into his back. He extended a hand to me, and I almost screamed.
"Ah, I'm sorry. You probably don't know who I am. Kinda rare, but not unheard of."
I backed up a step, my hand furiously squeezing the I.V. bag until I could feel it rushing through my veins. I called my magic back up again, making sure to bring it all to my fists before raising them viciously into a fighting stance. "I'm not- I'm not afraid of you, bird-man. Are you with the tin can guy? You can go tell him to shove his paparazzi up his metal ass."
Surprisingly, the bird-man laughed, placing a hand on my shoulder. At first I thought it was to steady himself, because he seemed to be swaying, but then I felt the needle that was on his hand escape my shoulder, and I realized it was me.
The last words I heard from him before passing out were, "Don't worry. I'll get you somewhere safe."