Chapter Thirteen:

Emblym made a face as she picked up the strange burrito full of chicken. Everyone else plowed through the food as if it were their last day alive ― which in all fairness, it nearly was. "What. . . is shawarma again?" She asked curiously.

"Meat," Clint growled through a full mouth. Emblym nodded, and tried a bite of it. Suddenly, her stomach twisted and she realized how little she has eaten in the last few days. Deciding to follow everyone else's leads, she inhaled the food quickly. She realized how tired she was ― she was covered in sticky, alien blood which was beginning to stink. Emblym ate a few more burrito-meat sacks before leaning back to breathe.

She summoned her knife and began to twirl it in her fingers. Tony saw the shiny, red knife began to speak. "What is that?" He asked, and Emblym rose an eyebrow at him. "The knife," He clarified. "What is it made out of?"

"I dunno, supposedly the souls of the dead," Emblym shrugged. "That was what Blondie said, at least."

"'Souls of the dead'?" Tony scoffed, but Emblym ― for once ― wasn't laughing.

"Yep," She nodded, and she had also somehow caught the attention of Captain America as well.

"It's not cutting you," He commented, intrigued. Emblym glanced at the knife, the lethally sharp end was being balanced on the tip of her finger. Emblym pulled her finger away, and nodded. He was right. She never noticed that.

"Magic," Emblym grinned, wiggling her filfthy fingers.

"I thought that hat was magic," He said, raising an eyebrow.

"They're both magic," Emblym assured.

"Where did you get it from?" Bruce asked, now also invested in the conversation of interrogating Emblym.

She huffed, slightly annoyed, "It came with the voices."

They all seemed to decide that 'the voices' was not a topic they wanted to broach at the moment. Instead, Tony asked, "How is it magic?"

Emblym ― who was admittedly a bit of a diva and liked showing off ― showed her knife to Tony. Then, she tossed it across the room harmlessly. She raised her hand, calling her knife back to her and it materialized in her grip.

Tony's eyes knit together and she could see him trying to figure out how that was remotely possible. Bruce, however, looked fascinated, like a child shown a magic trick ― which, was kind of what it was.

"Her soul is tied to the blade," Thor explained. "Anyone who wields the Blade of Wonder's soul is damned."

Emblym made a face, but didn't comment on that. Despite the obvious questioned that Thor's statement drew to the table, nobody decided to ask anything. They finished their food and Tony graciously paid for it. Tony, who must have given a very generous tip, made the manager's eyes go wide and his jaw slacking.

They began to file out of the restaurant. Emblym, glanced around, her arms crossed and suddenly feeling tense. Steve came behind her, looking a bit concerened, "Is everything alright?" He asked her, and Emblym swallowed hard, but nodded.

"Just. . . thinking," Emblym murmured. She didn't know what to do now. Fury destroyed her home, killed the only people she's ever truly cared about. Her only job was to help the Loki situation, and her records would be expunged, so. . . now what? Was he going to send her back to the institute? Was she even allowed to live in society?

Emblym glanced at Thor, who was speaking with Tony. Tony was trying to make arrangements to have them picked up, and taken back to the helicarrier where they had dropped Loki off about an hour before.

Thor promised to take her to Wonderland, and Emblym didn't quite know if he would keep up that promise. She didn't even know if Wonderland even still existed. Where was it? How would she get there? Could Thor come?

Emblym could feel the voices getting irritated from her confusion. She grimaced, rubbing her temple. They were quiet for a long time, especially after the fighting she had done. They were very pleased with the amount of aliens she killed, which ― even to Emblym ― had be a lot.

"Emblym!" She turned to who called her. It was Tony. He was waving her over, his phone in his hand. Emblym stepped over, quite confused. "I just got off the phone with Fury. He says that you are to come back to the helicarrier ― he'll sort out your living arrangements."

Thor glanced at her, as if asking what she was going to do. "... Alright," She said and Tony nodded, going back on the phone to speak. They had a deal, after all, and Emblym was pretty sure Fury wouldn't exactly mind. As long as she was out of his hair, she was fine, right?

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

When Emblym entered the helicarrier, she heard someone call her name. She turned to see a middle-aged woman with a stern face in a SHIELD uniform. Her hair was black and cut to a bob on her shoulders and her skin was pasty and pale. "This way," She instructed, and Emblym followed her.

She led her through a twist and turns of several halls, until she got to one that on the wall was labeled 'Barracks'. Finally, she stopped in front of a door ― room 276 ― and pulled out a key, before swinging open the door.

Emblym stared at the room, it was a bit larger than the room she had in the house in the country. The walls were blank and the room matched the dark interior of the helicarrier ― navy and black. The bed was a slightly longer than a normal twin-sized bed. There was a small desk near the side, a small, empty closet space.

"What do I do?" Emblym asked, generally confused.

"Rest. The Director has decided that you've. . . done enough, for today, at least," She said, but she didn't sound like she agreed with the words she spoke. Emblym, however, nodded. She was tired after the fight and every move made her body feel sore.

The woman closed the door as Emblym moved to sit on the bed. Much to her surprise, however, she heard a lock slide into place.

Emblym's eyebrows twisted together, "Uhm. . . hello? Lady?" Emblym stood up again, going to the door, but just as she suspected, it was locked. She yanked on the handle, but nothing happened.

Emblym heard a small hissing noise, and began to panic. She summoned her knife and plunged it into the door, trying to cut around the door knob. She could feel the gases getting to her, and black spots starting to fill her vision. "Let me out!" Emblym screamed, but nobody was coming.

Emblym continued to try to cut through the door, but began to realize how futile it was. Her body began to sag, and her eye getting harder to keep open. Shaking, Emblym desummoned her knife as her eyes closed and she sank to the floor.

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

A few weeks had passed since the Battle of New York. That was what they told her that the media was calling it. Emblym didn't like that title, though ― 'battle'. Battles sounded like it lasted for days on end. They sounded risky and dangerous and usually didn't end up with the people who fought for the country ending up back in a straitjacket in a cell.

Emblym sighed, wanting to lean back, but the neck of the jacket was also chained to the wall. It made for a bad sleep.

A thank you, probably should be established. Or, maybe just a little recognition. Emblym didn't have to fight - she didn't even want to in the first place - but that bastard Thor promised her he'd take her away. He promised she wouldn't end up in a place like this again, chained up like an unruly dog.

A part of Emblym thought this was all hilarious. She knew this would be the outcome. She knew not to trust Fury, not to trust anybody, and yet she did anyway. Look where it got her? In a cell, in the middle of nowhere, forgotten.

Emblym wanted to scream, but the muzzle on her mouth kept her from saying a word. That was a new addition, the muzzle. She supposed it fit the 'bad dog' fetish Fury had to have been going for.

The thought made Emblym want to laugh. And cry. So, she did both. She could always blame the tears on laughter, the sobs uncontrollable fits of giggles, the trembling as stitches in her side. It was all a game, after all. That's what Fury had to have wanted. He played at her emotions and she lost. How upsetting. How mediocre.

She was just going to die here, wasn't she?

Emblym leaned as far back as she could with the chains keeping her from moving off her bed. Then, she screamed until her throat felt raw and her voices were screaming with her.

Emblym knew she had a reason for hating people.

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

When Tony came to helicarrier a few weeks after the Battle of New York, he had a few plans in mind. First, of all, a meeting with Selvig about Loki's sceptre that Thor had allowed them to keep ― as long as he got the tesseract, he was happy.

Second, he planned on seeing Clint, Natasha, and Emblym, who all stayed on the helicarrier, but especially Emblym. He knew she didn't exactly have the best education ― at least from his minor reseach of her. Tony wanted to adopt her, she seemed to have a liking in science, and if not, he wanted to study that knife and magic hat of hers. He already had the space for it ― and, after the Battle, the tower was becoming somewhat of a favourite 'hangout' spot.

After his very informative meeting, he managed to find Fury, who was speaking with Agent Maria Hill. "Hey, Fury," Tony said slyly. Fury turned, and his eye narrowed at him, not looking eager to see the man at all. "It's okay, I'm not going to hack into your database - not today, at least - I just wanted to ask if you would know where Emblym was."

The man rose an eyebrow, "Why do you need her?"

"Private reason," Tony shrugged. "I wanted to see her little knife, test it on a few things."

"No," Fury said immediately and turned to walk away, Agent Hill following him close behind.

"Why not?" He asked. It didn't sound like it would be a big deal. Just testing on a knife for the sake of science. "I'll bring her back in one piece."

"I said, no. That's final." Tony crossed his arms and glared at the man.

"Is there something wrong with her?" He asked suddenly. "Is she in trouble?"

"No," Fury replied.

"Then, why can't I see her?" Tony's eyes narrowed at the man's back. Something wasn't right here. "Where is she?"

"Nowhere that concerns you," Fury replied sharply. "Now, if there is anything else you'd like to ask me about, please do. If not, then leave, I have work I have to do."

Tony frowned, but turned the opposite direction and towards the hanger where his iron suit was. He used it to get here, and he would use it to get back to tbe Tower.

He left the helicarrier without another word to anyone there. Finally, when he was alone in his suit and ready to go, he spoke. "JARVIS, is that Trojan horse virus we set still in place?"

"Yes sir," JARVIS replied as Tony nodded to the man who opened the hanger to let him out.

"Good. Use that to find whatever else you can in SHIELD's system on Emblym White. When you have it all compiled, tell me.

"Right away."

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

Tony frowned as he worked, going through old files for different versions of his suits. He kept a few things - for nostalgia sake - but most of it was trashed. "Sir, I have finished going through the files concerning Emblym White."

"Great," Tony smiled, wanting something better to do. "Send it here." JARVIS complied and sent the file to the computer he was working on.

Tony skimmed through it, an eyebrow raised. "What's a 'Red Human'?" He asked to himself, tapping on it. He saw old photos of different woman holding strange weapons. Some of them were knifes, or swords, one even had a frying pan, but they all looked the same deep red colour as Emblym's knife.

"Red Human seems to be some kind of disease that only affects the female sex," JARVIS announced. "The symtoms include psychosis, enhanced speed and strength, durability, and higher probabilty of murder."

"Those... Don't sound like symptoms of a disease," Tony said, confused. Usually when you heard disease, you also hear things like 'slowness of breath', 'heart palpatations', or 'death'. "This doesn't seemed to be able to spread, either," he continued, reading through the pages. "One one human is affected at a time. When one red human dies, the next one shows up immediately with the same 'symptoms'."

Tony flipped through a few papers until he found a photograph of a smiling man wearing a top hat - the same one Emblym made appear in thin air! He was joined with a tall woman, an odd, grinning cat that was floating, a large bloodhound with what looked like a mouse on its head, and a stout, angry looking midget of a man. "Huh..." He murmured, printing out the photograph. Maybe Emblym would recognize them.

"Sir, I think you should hear this," JARVIS said and then started some audio. It was a bit scratchy, but he could still make out the voices.

"No. I'm not giving her up," Fury's voice said.

"Manhattan has been decimated by aliens who might be in association with the girl," A voice he didn't recognize said.

"I do not care what happened to Manhattan," Fury snapped. "I am not going to give her to you so she can be locked away again."

"Emblym White is a danger to society," A woman said simply. "She is not in her right mind and cannot be controlled. At any point in time, she is capable of going on a murder spree, killing hundreds of innocent people. Who's to say she won't follow in the footsteps of her predecessors?"

"Emblym White is different than her predecessors," Fury explained simply. "She saved nearly forty people after one of our underground facilities collaspsed. Nobody had to ask her to do it, she simply did. Which, had been after we were trying to get information out of her and the Mad Hatter and the others were killed only days before. She could have left them, but she didn't. Emblym White is a good person."

"It's already been decided," Another man said calmly, despite what Fury said. "She is not in the right state of mind to be let into public and because of this, she will be institutions until significant changes have occured in her mental health."

"If you put her in another asylum she will only get worse - that is the last thing she needs."

"It has been decided," the man said again, this time more firmly. "Bring her back to the helicarrier and have her taken to the address sent to you. They will handle her there."

"JARVIS, what is that address?" Tony asked, pausing the audio.

"1740 Laxton Drive, I believe," JARVIS replied. "Freedmen Institute for Mental Health."

Tony thanked the system and several minutes later had connected to their server. Luckily, they had 24-hour surveillance of their patients. Tony leaned back, putting his feet on his desk. "JARVIS, use facial recognition to find Emblym."

"I'm on it," JARVIS said, and then pulled up a video.

Embylm was strapped down on a chair, her entire body trembling and she was gasping loudly, as if being choked. Tony say up immediately, staring at the screen. A second later, bloodcurling screams filled the room, as Emblym convulsed on the chair. "Holy shit," he breathed, staring at the grainy footage.

It lasted for a few minutes before Emblym stopped screaming and began gasping for air. A voice off screen began to shout at her. "Where's Wonderland?" Emblym didn't answer and Tony heard her sobbing. Then, she began screaming again, her eyes twisted shut and her hands curling into fists.

Finally, it stopped and the voice demanded again, "Where's Wonderland?"

"I... I don't know," Emblym croaked. She must have seen something because the began screaming again. "Please! No! I don't know! I don't-" she cut herself off by her own screams.

Tony couldn't watch anymore. He felt sick. This was where Emblym had been - tortured and forgotten. All the work she helped do during the Battle of New York must have amounted to absolutely nothing, then?

"JARVIS, call the team and get my suits ready. We're going to get Emblym."

"Yes, sir."