The first thing Max could feel when she woke up were handcuffs and she hated handcuffs. She jostled them pointlessly, her fingers gripping various bits and pulling as hard as she could, but either these were space-grade wondercuffs or she had lost some strength during the pitifully short fight in the sky. She guessed the former to save herself a little bit of dignity.
They'd put her in an interrogation room devoid of detail. The walls, floors, and ceiling were painted a deep black that made the room seem much smaller than it really was. The table was a bright, shiny steel that reflected the light from the single lamp up above. Opposite her was a mirror, which she knew was one-way glass. When she strained her ears and used her heightened hearing she could grasp at voices from behind it. They filtered in like music underneath a layer of water.
"She's fast," said a man's voice. It was deep and gruff. Max thought he was speaking to someone else but couldn't be sure. "Is she one of yours?"
"No," replied a woman's voice. "They may have had strange methods, but they would never have mixed us with animal genetics. She doesn't fight like us either. There's raw potential there but she's undisciplined."
Yeah, yeah, tell me how you really feel, Max grumbled in her head.
"You should leave her with the Academy," the woman said. "They could train her. She'd be a good ally to have."
"I think if she was put in any sort of structure she's rebel," the man said. "She's got that wild spark. Traditional methods won't work here."
"Then what do you want to do, Director?" she asked.
Director. The people who tried to transport her had said the same things. It wasn't the director she was used to, the one from Itex. They didn't seem to know who she was in terms of experiments, which was good. The less they knew, the better.
"I'm not sure yet." He paused. "She's bonded with Rogers, but he has too many missions to look after and I can't risk him training a young girl. We could always try to find her family."
The woman spoke softly but with a hard edge. "She doesn't have a family."
"How can you tell?" The Director asked her.
"She's too reckless. She's daring us to kill her," the woman said. "Someone like that doesn't have anyone to go back to. She doesn't need to protect herself because no one will be there to miss her."
There was a long pause, both the man and Max caught up in her words.
"Good deduction, Romanoff," the Director said at last. "That still doesn't solve our problem."
"We could give her to Barton. Let him have a real hawk for once." There was a smile behind those words, Max could tell. "But he wouldn't go for that. Barton always works alone."
"Barton always works alone," the man echoed her words. "True. I think that-"
Max heard a click and the door open, someone with heavy footsteps swaggering into the room. She strained her hearing even more to see how the configuration was in the room. The intruder steps between the Director and Romanoff.
"Stark." The Director's words were hard. "Who let you in?"
"You really need to get less hungry security guards, Fury," said a new voice as he sat in a swivel chair. His words were muffled, possibly by food. "Gave him a sandwich and he let me right it. He was also a bit unconscious, but semantics." He paused. "Good to see you, Natasha, Fury. I'm doing well, thanks for asking."
"You can't be here, Tony," Natasha said to him. She sounded droll and tired, as if he did this sort of thing all of the time.
"Hey, I brought her in. The least I can do is see what she is." Tony seemed to eat more food, his reply marred by a crunching sound. Max's stomach grumbled. "So what are we up against? Another radioactive waste deal? Bitten by a mutant bird or something?"
Fury paused. "We aren't sure. We need a place to study her."
Tony scoffed. "Is that all you're interested in? Studying her? She's a girl, not your science experiment. Besides, she can't be a day over sixteen. Try explaining this to a child abuse court."
"She took out an entire outpost of highly trained agents." Fury's voice was losing patience. "We can't release her out into the world. She's a danger."
"So's Rogers, but you let that Star-Spangled ass walk around being as free as he pleases." Tony said.
"He actually works for us. She's too young to," replied Natasha. "She's untrained."
"Train her," Tony said as if it was simple. "Send her to Xavier's or something. He's into that touchy-feely stuff, right? She'd be better off there than the Academy. All that's filled with are humans that have sticks up their asses."
"She's a flight risk," Natasha said. "Literally."
"Look at you making a joke," Tony said with admiration in his voice. "We should hang out more."
"We already hang out too much."
"Still on for my place on Friday? Steve promised to bring beer."
"Oh god no. I hate his beer."
"Well you drank all of my vodka last-"
"Enough." Max was surprised to find that it was her that had spoken. She had become fed up with their useless squabbling. She stared at the mirror, trying to pinpoint exactly where each of the agents behind the glass were standing. "You guys take forever to decide on something, just give it a break. Anyone bother to ask what I wanted to do? No? Well, you snooze, you lose. I want to leave."
The tension in the air was palpable. Even though she couldn't see the people behind the mirror, she knew they were frozen in place. A voice came through the speakers in the room. She identified it as Fury's.
"You are not authorized to do so."
Max rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat. "Have you ever heard of the saying 'If you love something, let it go?'"
There was a pause before she heard the speakers click on once again. "We are familiar. You are still unauthorized to leave the premises."
Max thought for a moment about invoking her Miranda rights, but the chance that whatever this facility was actually operated underneath them was slim. If she was going to be sent anywhere, it'd have to be with someone who she could easily escape from. "Then I'll go with him. Stark."
"Stark's not authorized to hold you. Only specified SHIELD facilities are."
Max rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically as she slumped back into her chair. "Great, I'm guessing SHIELD is one of those useless acronyms you guys are always throwing out? Whoever you put me with I'll just get away from. Might as well stick me with the guy that isn't trying to poke me with needles."
She could hear a small crash come from behind the glass and then Stark's voice came through the speakers.
"Hey there Jailbreak, Tony Stark of Stark Industries here-" Another crash. Then, distant, "Get off of me-! Anyway, we'd love to have you at the tower. Just overjoyed. Tell me when-"
The microphone was wrestled away from Tony and Max nearly smiled. He was sarcastic, he didn't obey orders, and he probably enjoyed blowing things up. She could think of a few people that fit that description. Then she remembered the cold metal of his flying suit as they grappled hundreds of feet above the city.
"Mr. Stark is not authorized to hold you," Fury said again, his voice firm.
"Well, someone's got to and I'm not going to wait until you and your plucky sidekick decide what prison to shove me into." Hints of venom seeped into Max's words. She wanted to cross her arms, but they were still locked behind her.
The door to the interrogation room opened and a man in a long leather duster walked in. He was a few inches taller than Max was, with dark skin enhanced by his black clothing, and had a large scar running the length of his face. An eyepatch covered one eye. She could only assume this was the Director.
He sat down in the chair opposite her and clasped his hands together. After a period of silence, he spoke. "What's your name?"
The question caught her off-guard, but it wasn't entirely unwarranted. "You already know it."
"I know it took over seven bullets to even render you unconscious, I know that you can survive a long time without sustenance, and I know that the bruises on Dr. Bahar's neck aren't just for decoration. What I don't know is your full name." He stared directly at her, but she wouldn't speak. "Let me start. I'm Nicholas Fury. Pleased to meet you."
She was silent before speaking with a sarcastic smile on her face. "Buffy Summers."
Fury laughed. "So you like the vampire hunter, then? You're going to have to try harder than that to fool me."
Max looked off to the side sullenly before reluctantly speaking. "Max. Maximum Ride."
"Maximum," Fury laughed to himself.
"What?" Max shot him a glare.
"It's a good name." He pulled something from the inside pocket of his duster. A pair of keys. Handcuff keys. "Now I can unlock you, even let you go with Stark if that's what you want, but only if you answer a few questions for me."
Max stayed silent. She averted her eyes and instead stared at the table, shifting in her chair uncomfortably. Even though she knew that they wouldn't let her go without having her give up the ghost, her first instinct was to hold her tongue. Fight or flight had been replaced by passivity.
"You know I can't do anything until I know that you're not going to mess around with my agents again," Fury said to her. His tone became more conversational than beforehand.
Max lifted her eyes to stare at the mirror. She could feel Tony and Natasha's eyes on her. This may be her only way to see someone she remotely trusts again. "Okay, shoot."
"Why were you at the outpost in Washington?" He asked.
Max took a few moments to answer, carefully omitting certain details. "I was looking for first aid supplies."
"Then why did you attack?"
"They had guns." True and untrue at the same time.
"And this threatened you?"
"It'd threaten anyone."
"How were you injured in the first place?"
"I-" Max's chest became tight. She remembered the Erasers, the fire, the terrifying screech of rubber against pavement as the car barrelled down the road towards her. "I fell. From a tree."
"I don't believe that," Fury replied. He seemed to consider her answer, knowing it was only a partial-truth.
"The wings don't always work," Max said.
"Ah yes, your wings," Fury said. "Would you like to tell me how you got them?"
"None of your business," Max shot back. She was beginning to feel hot in the cramped interrogation room.
"I think you'll find it's more my business than anyone else's, Maximum." Fury calmly set a file on the table. "This has everything we know about you in it. We didn't let any scientists take samples from you because we wanted to respect your space, but if you don't cooperate, our goodwill won't hold out for much longer."
She stared directly into his eye as if to ask him if he truly wanted to know what she had gone through to be in the state she was in. If that rabbit hole was something he was willing to lose his humanity in. Her voice was filled with vitriol, a dark expression on her face. "I'm sorry, let me rephrase that. It's none of your fucking business."
Something in him changed that Max couldn't put a finger on. He almost seemed amused by her.
"Are you going to be a danger to others?" Fury asked
"Only if they're a danger to me," Max said.
Her answer made Fury smile. "Alright." He stood and walked around, unlocking her cuffs. They clattered against the metal slats in the chair.
The sudden end to the interview was punctuated by Max's intense confusion. She wanted to rub at her wrists after her struggle earlier, but refrained from showing weakness or, god forbid, gratitude. She owed these people nothing and she wanted to make sure they knew that.
She needed to make sure they knew that.
The door opened and in walked a man that was relatively tall, with dark facial hair and a chest piece underneath his shirt that glowed, as if powered by something within him. It looked to be made of metal and it clicked in Max's mind that it might be a body mod, like those they added to the mutants at The School. She shivered, wondering if he too was like her.
The man was followed by a woman who carried an air of quiet strength about her, presumably Natasha from behind the mirror. She was clad in all black with a fiery man of red hair that was pulled back from her face. Her uniform had the same logo as the hospital did.
SHIELD, Max thought absentmindedly. That goddamn acronym.
"Tony Stark. I shot you out of the sky earlier," the man said. He offered his hand to Max, but she refused to take it. Her continuous stare instantly made the situation tense and Tony dropped the hand. "Okay, awkward. Nice to meet you."
"Maybe you shouldn't have started off with admitting assault," Natasha said. The two were obviously some approximation of friend. Perhaps close co-workers.
"I disagree," Tony pointed out. "She was flying in my airspace around my tower. She must have known who owned it."
"Yes, let's talk about her like she isn't even here," Max chimed in sarcastically. "That'll win you points with the bird kid."
Natasha and Tony whipped their heads to look at her. They both resumed more formal positions as Fury placed his hand on Max's shoulder.
Max glanced at Fury's hand on her shoulder, then back to Fury, and made eye contact. Her expression burned, but she didn't open her mouth.
Would you mind not touching your highly-volatile mutant prisoner? Thanks.
"Maximum will be escorted by a SHIELD agent to Stark Tower," Fury said. Tony opened his mouth, but Fury continued speaking. "It will not be Tony Stark. Romanov, assign someone to her case. One of the handlers, preferably."
"Of course, sir," Natasha replied.
Fury nodded and left the interrogation room. Natasha exchanged a glance with Max before leaving the room as well, indicating her to follow. They exited into a narrow hallway lit by blindingly bright lights. Stark had become intensely interested in the security panel outside of the doorway and Max stopped, waiting for him.
"Come," Natasha tilted her head in direction of the other end of the hallway. "He'll catch up."
Max said nothing and walked behind Natasha. Both seemed too stoic to even consider talking, but there was something on Max's mind that she couldn't shake.
"He's decided to keep me alive," she stated. "Why?"
They came to a door that revealed another hallway, identical to the last. Natasha's shoes clicked against the floor. "You might be useful."
Max snorted at the notion. "So I'm a prisoner then?"
Natasha shrugged lightly. "Something like that."
Natasha didn't talk much, and Max decided that she could respect that. After living years and years with people who just couldn't shut up, it was a strange paradigm shift. She couldn't decide if she actually liked it or just felt extremely uncomfortable. Given that everything about this situation was uncomfortable to her, it was difficult to distinguish.
"You don't tend to talk a lot," Max said as they neared the lobby of the building.
"It's not my job to talk," Natasha replied. She scanned her access card to allow them to leave the building. "And from what I've heard, you rarely do either."
Max thought back to the hospital, to Lena. In all of her determination to get out, she had completely forgotten about her former nurse. "There was a nurse at the hospital that helped me. Is she... alright?"
Natasha smiled before realizing exactly what Max was implying. Her expression soured as she opened the door to a SHIELD company car. "We don't kill our employees here."
Somehow, Max didn't believe that to be entirely true.
She slid into the passenger's seat of the car, a sleek black sedan that was so completely free of identifying marks that it almost seemed suspicious in its innocence. The interior smelled new and there wasn't a single mark on the dashboard. SHIELD agents, Max decided, were irreparably boring.
At least that made them predictable, she thought.
As Natasha went to put the car into drive, the back door opened and Tony Stark slid into view.
"Put the pedal to the metal, Tasha," he said urgently. "I've got something back at the tower to handle." He glanced at his phone. "Three somethings and a golden retriever, actually."
"This is what you get for crashing a classified interrogation," Natasha said pointedly as she pulled out onto the main road. "You're not even a Level Six yet, Tony. Fury is thinking about revoking any clearance that you have."
"And risk losing all of this?" Tony gestured to himself. It made Max smile. "He wouldn't take that chance."
Natasha said nothing, but as she gripped the steering wheel and looked straight ahead she seemed to say 'just watch.'
It was half an hour before they made it through the traffic of downtown New York City and arrived at Stark Tower, or Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York where the letters that spelled out Stark's surname fell off, save for the large A.
Max found the lettering on the building to be gaudy. Those superheroes, those supposed saviours of the world, did more advertising than they did helping others. She scoffed at the notion of selling merchandise with her face on it or even having something as frivolous as a catch phrase. They were the things she had come to despise, the antithesis of what she was at her core, and she was walking right into their headquarters.
Keep your enemies close, Max thought wryly to herself as she stared up at the glass exterior of the tower.
But that wasn't true. Superheroes weren't her enemy; she didn't seek vengeance against the star-spangled soldier or the mutant green monster. Max hated them in a way that was felt deeper than she previously thought. The whole of superhero culture was about imitating mutants, mocking them even, with prosthetics and injections and metal suits. It made light of everything she has ever had to suffer in her life. Max knew in her heart of hearts that superheroes wouldn't be the ones to help someone like her.
They'd be the ones to take her out.
"JARVIS, take us down to the main lab," Tony said into an earpiece. He ushered Max and Natasha into a private elevator.
"Of course, sir," said a disembodied voice with a clipped English accent.
The sound made Max jump and slide into her fighting stance, which Tony cracked a smile at. She slowly lowered her limbs and recomposed her face.
"Got some kinks you need to work out there?" Tony gestured to his brain and made the universal sign for crazy.
Max glared at him. The elevator doors opened with a ding before she could answer.
"Don't worry," Tony patted her shoulder as he stepped out of the elevator. "I've got them too."
There was a sadness underneath the jovial tone of his words that betrayed a deeply troubled web that comprised Tony Stark. In their few hours together, Max couldn't seem to get past the mask he wore, both as Iron Man and as himself. At first she wasn't inclined too (he had knocked her unconscious mid-air, after all) but the man who seemed to lay all of his cards on the table is the one that will be housing her until Fury finds a more permanent place of residence. All of a sudden, Tony Stark didn't seem like the easy mark he was made out to be.
They walked down a short hallway and entered into a room filled with mechanical gadgets and tables of science experiments. There were wires and microchips scattered on the shiny chrome surfaces that held half-finished engines and weapons that looked to be from another world.
"Welcome to the playroom," Tony said with a flourish. He looked extremely self-satisfied, but didn't earn an impressed glance from either of his guests.
"Oh, there you are, Tony." A woman stepped out from a side room, file in hand. She was wearing a neatly pressed suit and had a bundle of light, strawberry-blonde hair pulled up into a neat ponytail.
"Hey Pep, where'd the good doctor and her giggle twins get off to?" Tony looked confused.
"Jane left after waiting two hours for you to show, but this is more important," Pepper leaned towards Tony before catching a glimpse of Max, who was absentmindedly playing with a piece of metal on a nearby table. Natasha lightly tapped her hand and shook her head 'no.' "Who's that?"
Tony twisted around. "Her? That's Natasha. You know Tash, Pepper."
"Tony," Pepper said impatiently.
"I'm Max," Max replied with a curt wave. She resumed touching more of the experiments only to have Natasha block her at every turn. Eventually Max sulked on one of the stools.
Pepper looked Tony directly in the eye. "Please tell me you didn't get someone pregnant sixteen years ago and are just now finding out about it."
"I'm not his kid!" Max said indignantly from her metal stool.
Pepper shook her head and pulled Tony off to the side. "It doesn't matter. Something happened that I need to talk to you about now. In private."
Natasha got the cue and motioned for Max to follow her back out into the hallway. After a roll of the eyes, Max followed, but she kept glancing back at Pepper and Tony, who were whispering in hushed tones.
"I think she likes me," Max said facetiously.
"She doesn't like stray cats," Natasha said.
"Does he tend to pick up a lot of those?" Max meant it to be a joke, but the expression on Natasha's face soured. Max followed her line of sight to see Pepper and Tony arguing.
Natasha's mouth was set in a hard line. "More than you know."
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