Wither Wings (An Avengers Crossover)

Phase 5: The Tower

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?"