Weapon // Avengers OC/AU

eyes carved by alcohol (chapt.4)

I found myself awake, underneath a blanket. My eyelids were weighted and my vision was fuzzy, I couldn't open my eyes that far as the colour white was blinding me.
A few memories started to dot around in my head, but they all seemed out of place and irrelevant to each other. Nothing made any sense.

I remembered being cold, feeling like I was absolutely nothing. I remembered my back going warm. I remembered the sound of an engine, a woman shouting.
My heart started beating faster as I remembered one more thing- the man made of metal.

I forced myself to sit up, even though it hurt. In the few seconds I spent looking around, I was sent into even more spirals of confusion. There were screens on the walls, the floor was white carpet with a white fluffy rug on it. The chairs were white too, they were sofas with incredibly low backs and no arms, just rounded ends.
I felt the one I was sat on with  my left thumb, it felt like leather, but not really.

I swang my feet onto the floor, and the thin fibres of the rug slithered between my toes. It tickled.

Suddenly my hearing tuned in - footsteps.
My eyes met the door.
The man made of metal.

I noticed another door, just to my left, I sprang into action and tried to kick it down. Nothing.
How?
I tried again, it was still perfectly in tact, just a little dirty now.

I grunted in frustration and darted to one of the windows, they were small and rounded with thick borders. My nose pressed against it as I glared out, my pupils shrank at what I saw.

Clouds.

Clouds and sky.

I was in a plane.

Shit.

There was no way I could just leap out, I had to hide - I estimated that I only had about a minute left, so I had to be quick. Instantly a plan formulated in my head and I followed its map. I looked at the hinges on the door as to which way it would open and stood on that side, waiting impatiently.
Five seconds later the door creaked open, slow, gentle footsteps hit the carpet as I stood behind the door. The footsteps were strange, as if they were dancing to a song.

Now another man was in front of me, not the man made of metal. My chest relaxed in relief, then tightened again.
There's more than one.

3...2...1...

I sprang on him, hooking my legs round his hips and my elbows round his neck. I kicked my feet upwards into his ribs and I pulled his neck sideways, giving him a rib fracture and a sprained neck.
He cried out in pain, I didn't let it phase me.
The next part had to be speedy, so I made sure it was. I gripped his shoulders and unhooked my legs, pushing myself backwards enough to kick into his back. The second my feet made contact I let go of him, watching him fly forwards and onto the ground.
That definitely knocked something out of place.

I turned round and made for the door, when he said something, but it came out slowly as he was out of breath from surprise and pain.

"What...is...your...problem?!"

I let myself slowly turn around to face the man, who was desperately trying to sit up.
"Excuse me?" My voice came out lifeless and flat.
"Do kids these days have no respect for the adults around them?"

A moments silence.

"I have as much respect for you as I do for a rat in a sewer," I spat, "now shut up before I make you."
He sat up properly and looked me dead in the eyes, which I'll admit, took me by surprise.

His eyes were tired and deep-set, round but framed by square glasses. The iris was pigmented brightly with a dark blue-green colour and carved by alcohol.
I swallowed, before taking a defensive step closer to him.
"Look, what do you and the man made of metal want from me?"
At first his face was littered with confusion, then a large smile started to grow on his face and his eyes lit up. Anger burned in my stomach. "You think this is funny?" I kicked him on the underside of his chin, making him fall back again. He was quick to respond.

"No, no, not at all."
His sarcasm made my muscles tense, I wanted information and I was going to get it. My feet marched over to him, one ending up on his chest. I pressed down.
"You better start giving me some answers." I growled.
He struggled out a reply, "I will...when you...get...the hell...off."
I agreed to his terms and stepped off him.

"Who are you?" I barked, "and who is the man made of metal?"
He looked like he was holding back a smile as he spoke, "There is no man made of metal, sweetheart. Honestly, think about it."
"I've thought about it. Tell me what he is."
"Do people made of metal have recognisable features? You're pretty set on it being a man."
"I heard him speak."
"Ah, I see. Well, I should probably tell you that the man made of metal is just a suit."
My eyes winced in purplexion, "A suit?"

Surely a suit was just some bits of fabric?

"Yes, a suit. A metal suit. Used for fighting the baddies."
I tried to ignore his patronising tone.
"It was me in that metal suit, saving your ass actually. You were in shock, unconscious and almost hypothermic. So me being the saving grace I am, pulled you in here when I should have handed you over to the big guy."
Sirens started going off in my brain as it tried to make sense of my situation; I relaxed my stance a bit and continued to question him.
"The big guy?"
His eyes widened, "Oh yeah, him. Nothing too special. Just the director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

The last word made my heart sink and my breathing fall out of sync.
"What's S.H.I.E.L.D got to do with this?"
I saw his gaze soften as he noticed my sense of panic.
"You do know where you're from, don't you?"
I shook my head.
He paused, "Does the name, HYDRA, mean anything to you?"
I shook my head again.
"But you know what S.H.I.E.L.D is?"
I nodded.
He whistled, "Well, seems like someone's got some memory loss." My stare at him stiffened, "Now, not to brag or anything, but you should probably know who I am, right?"
"I know nothing about you. Tell me your name."
He gasped in disbelief, "I'm sort of kinda really famous."
I scoffed, "Not to me you're not. How did you fit that big head in that suit? Tell. Me. Your. Name."
"Ooh, feisty! My name is Tony Stark, I just saved you life and you kicked one of my ribs in. How is that fair?"

The name Stark felt like it should mean something to me, but I couldn't remember what.

I decided to lie, "I still don't know who you are, Tony."
He sighed, "It's a real shame. Help me up, will you?"
I considered for a second, before helping the man to his feet. "Cheers. Walk me over to that cabinet?"
Reluctantly I did so, thinking that he saved my life, so I did owe him something.

In the cabinet was several bottles of pills, he picked one, tipped a couple in his palm and downed them dry.

"Now," he spoke, "business."
I furrowed my eyebrows, he noticed.
"Basically, I'm going to take you- actually, what's your name?"
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. I felt my heart sink. I couldn't remember my own name.
"I, I don't know."
He rubbed his hands together, "Good start! So, I'm going to take you back to my tower worth billions of billions of dollars to help you get some memory back. Comprende?"
I nodded, but was taken aback by his bluntness.
"Also, you don't seem too hostile, so I'll make some deals with S.H.I.E.L.D that you're my business and my responsibility unless you prove otherwise."
"What would S.H.I.E.L.D do with me?"
"Interrogate you, hurt you, lock you up somewhere..." His voice trailed away.

Next thing I know I'm back on the sofa, being handed a plate of warm food. "This might make you feel better, Miss No-Name."
I thanked him and started eating like a rabid animal, he laughed and sat next to me.

I felt safe with him, but there was still something off. I couldn't place what, but I felt the need to be cautious.