Hulk stopped outside of Stark Tower and Brooke clicked a button by the door. The green man behind her slowly began to shrink to his normal size, and she tried not to look too closely.

"Master Stark has requested all visitors stay away today," JARVIS said through the speaker system.

"Not strangers," Brooke insisted. "Beasty hurt. Need help. Send Lightning!"

"At once, mistress Brooke," JARVIS replied cordially.

Brooke smiled.

Drake jumped off of the monster as it slowly returned to normal."You didn't answer me, Brooke. What did you mean by 'black water'?"

He glanced back at the Hulk, remembering back to his own horrible experience with a pair of trunks and a pool. Drake emphasized with the changing man and, not realizing what he was doing, quickly formed a pair of black pants out of the shadows around him. "Here, man. We're on the street and there's girls around. Best cover it." He turned back to Brooke. "Now. Back to the 'black water'."

Brooke looked down to the black water pants and didn't remove her eyes from them. "Black water," she repeated. She couldn't explain it any other way. She just hoped that Dragon realized what she was saying.

The doors didn't open, but she saw Tony and Lightning coming. JARVIS completed his mission. Good JARVIS.

Drake looked down at the pants he had given Dr. Banner. Black pants, made of shadows. Black water.

"Ah! What's happening to me?!" Drake screamed, looking down at his hands. "No! This wasn't supposed to happen! I was safe! I was the normal one! Get it out! Get it out!" He reached back and immediately began to claw at the back of his head, as if he had a swarm of bees buzzing around in his brain. "Please," Drake looked to Brooke as his skin began to fade to dark tan. "You have to help me."

Brooke stood on her tiptoes and reached her fingertips to brush across his neck, where he had pulled at it. She sighed heavily and pulled her hair around to one side of her head, tilting her chin sideways and revealing the long line of her neck. A long, thin scar ran behind her ear, and another small scar marred her temple.

"Glass in my mind. Telling me where to go. Who to be. Drums in my head, hotter than Hades. Don't want to dance with their sticks." She made eye contact with him, something she rarely did. "But I did. Learned to survive, but didn't want to. Experiments. Lies that pulled me in and pinned me down." She shrugged, nothing else to say. The longest she had talked since she had been changed into who she was now.

She waited for Dragon to scoff. To tease. To run. Everyone did.

Drake felt her fingers on the back of his neck and stopped scratching. He saw her scars and heard her explanation. She went through it, too. She knew what it was like to be experimented on. Heck, they all did. If there was anywhere he would be accepted, it was here, at Stark Tower. Paige had tried to tell him, tried to make him understand. He understood now.

He whispered a small "thank you" and stood up straight, conquering his previous fit.

"Okay," Brooke agreed with Drake.

It was about that time that Tony finally decided to open the door, and Thor helped Bruce inside by throwing one of the man's arms around his shoulders.

"Might as well come in," Tony shrugged. "Danny here's got a lot of explaining to do."

Brooke tossed her hair aside as she brushed past Tony, with only one word. "Drake."

Tony rolled his eyes.

Brooke smiled back in Drake's direction.

"Thanks, Brooke." Drake said as he followed her into the tower. He soon turned to look at Stark. "Look, man. I don't know what those cops wanted with me. You know as well as I do that that Renaissance psycho kidnapped her. All I wanna do is get her back."

Tony shrugged again and shut the door as the kids finally made it in. "Yeah, I know Reindeer Games took her. We all do. There's been a development while you guys were gone."

Brooke perked up and glanced from Tony to Drake. Tony. Drake. "Development?"

Drake nearly fell to the floor. A development? "What is it? What happened? Is Paige okay? If that creep did anything to hurt her, I'll tear his neck from his shoulders. I don't care if he is some sort of god. If he hurts her, he'll pay."

"Well, see, it appears..." Tony sighed. "Looks like Loki learned how to use the internet. Thor got an email, via JARVIS, via me... He's still trying to figure out how he got a letter using airwaves. No luck explaining it."

"Email?" Brooke asked. Not something she comprehended.

"It's not airwaves," Drake corrected. "It's electricity. Coding and structure that programs can read. It's just like sending any other letter, except electricity is the messenger." He stopped. There were far more pressing matters than trying to explain how email worked. "What did he say? Is Paige alright? Is she alive?"

"Right. You think I didn't try explaining it to him that way first?" Tony scoffed. "For an alien, he really doesn't get Earth technology very well."

Brooke tugged on his arm.

He looked down at her. "Yeah, short person?"

"Dragon asked questions." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. Questions. Right." He turned so he could make eye contact with Drake. "According to the email, she's fine. He swears he won't hurt her, but somehow he figured out Thor was trying to trace his location. We're working on a new tactic since that one didn't work out. Shouldn't take more than a few hours if Bruce and I have anything to say about it, but take that with a grain of salt. This guy's tricky."

"Have you tried to trace where the email came from? I know he probably went far away from where he has her, but... how far? That's the question. If he's gotten cocky with his plans, he might get reckless. He could still be in the area. If we can pinpoint a square-mile radius, that should give us something."

Drake strolled over to one of the nearby touchscreens. "May I?" he asked, not bothering to check over his shoulder to see if his actions were alright.

Within moments, Drake had a flash drive in the system and was messing with his smart phone. Only seconds passed before the password screen on the touchscreen lit up with the correct digits and moved to the welcome screen. A few swipes of Drake's fingers brought up a scrolling screen of information. He seemed to be conducting an orchestra of data. "By the way, I'm hacking your system. I want to read the email myself, and put a tracer on it. I hope you don't mind. You can call the cops later. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen them today."

"Yeah, I already traced it." Tony slapped a printed copy of the email down on the table next to Drake and patted him on the shoulder. "Good thinking, though."

He strode toward the balcony and braced himself for the suit that would inevitably spring up to meet him as he walked. "I'm heading over there. Don't have too much fun without me."

Brooke leapt up to perch atop the bar and stared over at Drake and the computer. "Tech-y Dragon. That's new." And she pulled a smart phone from behind the wall she sat on and turned it on.

Drake blinked at the email Stark had laid down next to him. "Yeah, well. I could have found it myself if you'd given me a chance." He sighed and walked over to Brooke. "I'm a programmer for AVCORP. I don't expect you to know who those guys are, so let's just say they aren't friends with Mr. Stark. In fact, you could probably call them rivals. Avril Corporation has tried its best to compete with Stark Industries in coming up with the latest and greatest technologies, mainly in the field of military weaponry and biotechnologies. But, Stark has always been better."

Drake shrugged and pulled his flash drive from the touch screen. "Stark Industries isn't easy to hack into. I've been working on it for months. I didn't steal any of his files just now, though. I might be a criminal, but I'm an honest one. Stark is helping me. I'll leave my profession out of it."

He sighed and began to pace, thinking of Paige. He wondered how she was doing, whether she was truly alright. He had to do something to get his mind off of her. The Avengers were doing everything they could to get her back. "So... this JARVIS program. It's a lot like Demetri's SIDNES. Simulated Intelligence Defense Network for Emergencies and Situations. I helped him upgrade his software last month."

"It isn't often I hear things like that," JARVIS piped up. "If I may ask, master Drake, is this SIDNES program of the female persuasion?"

Drake growled at the program. "No, he's not. And I don't appreciate snobbish sophisticated binary referring to my work as such."

Brooke couldn't help it. She giggled uncontrollably at JARVIS' question. So hard, in fact, that she ended up on her side atop the perch she had chosen. Hands clasped at her stomach as the laugh escaped her. And then, in an instant, she fell off the back and crashed into the glasses scattered across the bar. The sound of glass crunching against flesh was sickening.

Drake jumped as he heard the crash behind him. "Brooke!" He rushed to her side, "Are you alright? You're bleeding. JARVIS, where's the nearest first-aid kit? And isn't there at least one superhero with medical training? Could you alert him please?"

"I'll summon Doctor Banner immediately," JARVIS responded. "And I'm sure you'll find a first aid kit beneath the bar. Master Stark has... tendencies."

Brooke pushed herself to a sitting position and looked over her shoulder to see the gaping wound on the back of it. "Seen worse." But she winced as she said it, belying the pain.

Thor burst through a door somewhere near the back of the room and furrowed his brow at the sight before him. He rushed to scoop Brooke into his huge arms and carried her to the couch, where he turned her so he could inspect the wound carefully.

"Of all," he stated, "I thought you would only become injured in the heat of a great battle."

Brooke shrugged and looked around for Drake. "Dragon?"

"I'm right here, Brooke," Drake said, bringing the first-aid kit over to the couch. He knelt down next to her and began to inspect the wound. "You should be more careful," he scolded lovingly. "It wasn't even that funny. Darned robot thinks he has a sense of humor. Wait'll I get my hands on that programmer, then we'll see who has a sense of humor." Drake sighed and opened the kit, readying the supplies for the doctor.

"I'm here!" Bruce called as he raced in. "JARVIS said it was urgent. Who hurt themselves?"

He noticed Brooke on the couch with Thor and Drake hovering and scooted that way, sure to avoid any close contact with the god of thunder. There was a long history there.

Brooke whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, something she wasn't prone to do.

Hawkeye somehow managed to pick that exact time to come in from the balcony, as well. Soon, there was a pretty large circle forming around Brooke. Three out of six Avengers and one superhuman huddled around her wasn't too shabby for a crazy girl who could barely remember her name. Still, she was in pain, so she didn't really care.

Bruce looked around at the first aid equipment scattered around him as Thor took one of Brooke's hands in his own. "Hey, Drake," Bruce started, "Where'd the tweezers go?"

Drake handed the doctor the tweezers and backed out of the circle of heroes. Too many big guys, bigger than himself, and far stronger. He wasn't one for large crowds anyway. "I'm over here, Brooke, if you need me."

He wandered over to Stark's desk and glanced at his glassy touchscreens. Such a beautiful elegant technology. Once a tech nerd, always a tech nerd. And this chic geek was far too impressed with the technology around him to be concerned with a matter that was already being taken care of.

"This is gonna hurt," Bruce warned. He plucked the first shard of glass from her shoulder.

Brooke shrieked and wrapped a hand tightly around Thor's bicep.

Thor winced. "For one so small, our fair maiden has a grip firm as iron."

"She's in pain, soldier boy. She's going to grip anything she touches tighter." Bruce rolled his eyes and carefully extracted another shard.

Hawkeye winced, and he was only an onlooker. "That doesn't look pleasant."

"Not pleasant," Brooke confirmed through her tears.

Drake's heart went out to Brooke as he watched from across the room. He remembered when he'd treated Paige for her own injuries. Injuries given to her by that... brute. He should have torn his arm clean off, instead of just breaking it. Should have cracked his head open to match. Oh, what was happening with his poor little butterfly?

Drake stalked over to the large picture window and looked out at the city below. He saw the park they had gone to only days before. The bench she had sat on. And then... she was gone.

He swallowed hard, trying to fight back tears. If he was in his own house, he would be picking his own glass shards out by now. He had a tendency to get self-violent when he was upset, and many mirrors had met their demise in his home. Once again, his thoughts turned to Paige. He couldn't stop thinking about her. If that monster hurt her, blood would be spilled. Drake would make sure of it.

Bruce tied off the last stitch and rocked back on his heels. "Okay, Brooke. You're done. It's all better now."

Brooke rolled her eyes. "Not a child."

Thor gave a bemused smile as Brooke finally released his arm. Then he rubbed at the red spot developing on his bicep. Hawkeye shook his head and returned to the balcony.

Brooke perked up and glanced around the room. "Dragon?"

Drake swiped at the tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't want any of the heroes to see him cry. They, who were so strong, would think him weak for crying over a lost girl. But she wasn't just any girl. She was the woman he loved. The others needed to know.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

/

Kitania didn't think about where she was going. She tried not to remember her precious books that had been confiscated along with her bag. No use trying to get them back now. She couldn't fight an entire police force. Not without making them suspicious.

At the entrance to Central Park, she stopped and looked down to her hands. She turned on her lumen, and watched the light seep from the palm of her hand. Glowing, shimmering. Lighting everything it touched, including her face. A curse like hers could only bring confusion to others, the police at the top of that list. That was why she hadn't said anything.

With a sigh, she turned it off and looked up to find the nearest bench. The man she saw surprised her the most.

Demetri sat with his earbuds in, swaying side to side as he quickly sketched, listening to a soft rock ballad. Sunglasses shielded his eyes from onlookers, who would have easily caught on to his impairment had they seen him. He was not looking at his paper. Instead, his eyes flicked rapidly back and forth behind his glasses, matching the speed of his pen. As quickly as he had stared the drawing, it was finished.

With a pleased sigh, Demetri set his sketch book down on the bench next to him, subtly passing his hand over it. In the place where the image was, a living black sparrow now hopped. It turned its head to the side, glancing at Demetri, and then took flight into the nearest tree. Demetri removed his earbuds and listened intently for the sound of his sparrow's song.

Kitania couldn't believe her eyes. He had just made that bird come to life. That had been a drawing fifteen seconds ago. What the heck? Here she was, feeling sorry for herself, and it turned out she wasn't the only one with wacky powers.

She flexed her hands, back and forth, letting her lumen turn on and off and hoping no one saw. Maybe he would understand. Maybe he could help her hide. Maybe.

Before she could wimp out, Kitania shuffled across the green grass and stopped a few feet behind the bench. She couldn't do it. He'd never understand. This had been a bad idea.

Demetri heard the light crunch of leaves and twigs behind him. The footfalls were too heavy to be from an animal. "Beautiful day, isn't it? The sun is shining, the birds are singing. Do you see that black little bird up there?" He gestured toward where his black sparrow was hopping in the trees. "He's so beautiful, isn't he? And he has such a wonderful song! Listen."

Kitania heard him speak, which only served to freak her out further. She paced away from the bench, then chided herself for being such a coward and returned to her spot. Away, back. And again. She just couldn't make up her mind. Finally, she allowed her hair to fall toward her face, her long black tresses and bangs creating a barrier between her and any unwanted human interaction. She took a deep breath and tried not to panic.

Demetri heard the footsteps retreat and then return. Retreat and then return. The small person was more flighty than his sparrow.

But, then he heard her speak.

"I saw what you did," she said quietly. "With the bird. Is that... like... a normal thing for you?"

"It depends..." Demetri replied, choosing his words carefully. "Who are you with?" He reached down toward his belt and removed what looked to be a silver knife hilt elegantly wrapped in black rubber. He let his hand and the hilt lie in his lap as he waited to see how the girl would respond.

"With?" Kitania hated that it sounded breathy, like she was super nervous about something. She was, of course, but she hated feeling small and weak. "I don't know what you mean." She forced herself to remain still, unable to reason why she'd spoken to him, or why he seemed to be holding something in his lap. Suddenly cold, she wrapped her arms around herself.

Demetri held his cool. Perhaps she was just an innocent onlooker. He heard the nervousness in her voice. "I'm sorry," Demetri laughed. "I'm a very... important... man, and there are people out there who would want to get to me. As to your question, it was just a trick. I'm an illusionist. That bird is my pet. A very rare black sparrow." He hoped his lie would satisfy her.

To prove his point, he held out one finger and whistled a tune. His sparrow immediately flew down from the branch and landed on his finger. "See? His name is Onyx. Would you like to pet him? He won't peck."

A pet bird. Of course. She shouldn't have been dumb enough to think there were other people outside of The Avengers who would understand. And she couldn't go to them. She couldn't let them know. They'd throw her out. They'd laugh at her.

Kitania took a deep breath and stepped forward to reach a trembling hand to stroke the bird's head. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just... It's just... I thought maybe..." No, she couldn't say it. He wouldn't understand. No one would ever understand.

Demetri frowned when he heard her speak. She had wanted him to have powers. His instincts screamed at him, demanding to know why. But, he was too refined to give in to his petty fears. "If you're actually with some sort of company, and do anything to harm me or steal secrets from me, I will have the entire Avril Corporation after you..." He paused and sighed. "But, you saw correctly. I did draw this bird, and he's not my pet. Look at your fingers. They're stained with ink."

Kitania frowned and turned her hand to look at her fingers. Black liquid sank into the cracks and fingerprint ridges. Ink. So he had brought the bird to life. She knew it! Oh, thank God she wasn't crazy after all!

She dropped a hand to the back of the bench. "I thought so," she whispered. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to just say it. To tell him she had powers, and she thought she was a freak. He'd probably laugh. And, besides, it was kind of something she had to show him and if his dead-ahead stare and dark shades were any indication, this guy wouldn't be seeing it any time soon.

Demetri sighed again and let the bird fly away. He placed his ink-covered hand back into his lap, gripping the hilt of his Adamantium knife. "Tell me who you are." His voice was soft, only requesting.

Kitania was close enough now that she could see the knife on his lap. But she wasn't too scared. More scared of the pain than what he could do to her. She lowered her eyes. "M-my name's Kitania." Then in a burst of bravery, she added on, "Who are you?"

Demetri smiled. "You mean you don't know who I am? Well, I must be doing a good job of hiding. My name is Demetrius Avril, heir to the Avril Corporation: AVCORP." He shifted his blade to his other hand, turned on the bench, and held his right hand out to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You may call me Demetri."

"Hi." Kitania wrapped one hand around her other arm and closed her eyes. She took deep breaths, controlling her anxiety. Out-of-control emotions still had the potential to make her hands light up, and there were people strolling about in the park.

She didn't know what to say next, and she didn't know what AVCORP was, particularly. She had never been big on current events. She preferred her own little world where books and ivories were her escape and she could forget about the strange powers in her hands. She shuffled from one foot to the other. Unsure how to proceed. Unsure if she wanted to tell him she even had a power. She didn't even know anymore.

"Would you like to have a seat?" Demetri asked, moving his sketch pad off of the bench. "I'd love the company. Lately, I haven't had the chance to talk to very many people. Or, if you prefer walking..." He quickly put his knife away and pulled another, similar tool from his belt. This white little rod, instead of having a blade at the end of it, had a plastic ball the size of a golf ball. He flicked the device once, letting the telescopic plastic pieces fold out into his cane. "It's up to you."

"Sitting is fine," Kitania agreed as she hustled around the side of the bench and seated herself as far away from Demetri as she could get. "I'm done with constant movement."

If only there were some way to fight off those after her with her power. But, alas, it wasn't as useful as that. She wanted so badly to be a warrior maiden, esteemed in the highest regard as someone who could look after herself. Unfortunately, all she would ever be was the damsel in distress. She was sick of it. Sick of being scared. Sick of looking over her shoulder. Sick of false explanations and made-up tales of who she was. She'd find her identity. And it would start with this (sickeningly scary) conversation.

Demetri smiled when Kitania sat down. "Why are you constantly moving? That must be tiresome." He leaned his cane against the side of the bench and began to sketch again, but this time much slower than before.

Kitania held in a sarcastic chortle. "Reasons." So many reasons. Good ones and bad ones. Hidden ones and ones that had been aired in public. All pointing back to one point in her history that she hated to relive. She flexed a hand, watching the lumen dim and brighten. Dim and brighten. "Look, I'm not really good at talking about... well... anything. I have a past and I have secrets and I am horrible at letting others in."

"Well, that makes two of us," Demetri stated, glancing over in her direction. "A past and secrets. The secrets of the powerful... I'm surprised you aren't freaked out by a blind guy drawing right in front of you."

"After what I've been through, I don't think anything can freak me out anymore. Besides, you have superpowers. I'd expect nothing less." She curled her arms around herself, even though it wasn't chilly. Even thinking about the past made her shiver with dread.

"Superpowers? I wouldn't call them that. It's more of a... talent." He laid his pen and paper down on his lap. "And what about you? No talents? No hobbies? We don't have to talk about the past. Let's talk about the present. Who are you right now? As for me, I am Demetrius, the strange blind sketch artist."

"Sure. I have hobbies and..." Kitania gulped, "talent. Um, I play piano. Probably could have been a child prodigy if they'd let me. And, well, I guess mostly my hobby is hiding. And... and..." she didn't want to say it. "There is one other thing."

"Piano. Wonderful. My mother tried to teach me, but it's a little difficult when you can't read the notes. I try to play things by ear, but I'm nowhere near being the next Ray Charles." Demetri turned a little so that he was facing her more. "Hiding as a hobby. I've never thought of that. I'm sorry, but I don't think I'd be very good at that game." He chuckled at his own joke. "And...? It's not like I'd tell anyone. Who is there to tell? If you run away and walk into a crowd, how would I ever find you again? You don't have to tell me, but judgment is blind as well."

Kitania sighed and relaxed a little. He was right. He'd never be able to identify her to the authorities or a friend, and especially not to... him. She might as well come out and say it. Tell him what he was digging for. She flexed a palm and studied the light as it brightened. Time to trust just one person, and if it backfired she could always refuse to trust anyone ever again. "You're not the only one with... abilities."

Demetri gave a knowing smile. "Of course I'm not. I'm one of many. In fact, one of my best friends is a telepath. Another can bend metal with his mind. And then there's the twins with energy control. It's fitting, seeing as they're both such hotheads." He laughed, remembering his adventures on the island. "What can you do?"

How had he known? How had he hit the nail so closely on the head? She was worse at easing people into things than she thought. She flexed her palm again. "I know you can't see it, but..." Brighten, dim. Brighten, dim. She sighed. "I have light that comes from my palms, which sounds stupid I know. But, um, it's... it's not. It... it does things. You're going to think I'm a complete whack-job!" she huffed.

"You say to the man who makes birds out of blobs of ink. I don't think you're anything but yourself. Confused perhaps, but not crazy."

Just then, Demetri's phone rang in his pocket.