Wither Wings [DISCONTINUED]

The Flock Whisperer

I am finally back after much procrastination on my part. I had written it all down in my notebook, but then I got lazy and decided to not type it up and write something else. Guess what it was? The first chapter to the sequel! So whilst I was getting all cozy with Peter Parker, you guys were waiting for the next chapter, which wasn’t fair to any of you. So here we go!

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Last time on Wither Wings.

“If it is nowhere you are going, take Max,” Tony put his hands on Max’s waist and pushed her up towards Pepper and Natasha, her feet almost sliding out from under her on the hardwood flooring.

-

“And the Historia is…?”

“Lots of dancing, lots of booze, and lots of boys,”

-

Max took the steps down two at a time and practically ran after him.

She never even made it to the alley.

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Tony Stark was currently not a very happy man, and when Tony Stark was unhappy, Tony Stark tended to go on a very Stark-like tirade.

“What the hell happened?”Stark clenched his jaw as Natasha carried Max’s limp form into the room and set her down on the sofa, bits of his face twitching as he struggled not to bite her head off like a pre-pubescent great white shark. “I told you to give her a taste of normalcy, not to get her knocked-up in an alleyway by a rapist!”

“Relax, Tony,” Natasha replied in her typical jaded voice, grabbing a blanket from the foot of the couch and spreading it over Max. “She didn’t get knocked up. We were at a club and she went out to get fresh air. I don’t know much past that, but she wasn’t robbed, she wasn’t kidnapped, so she’s fine.” Natasha glanced down at Max and tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, smoothing down the blanket.

“Relax?” Tony threw his arms into the air in exasperation. “How can I do that when I have an adolescent bird kid passed out on my couch?”

“She’s a big girl, she can take it,” Tasha reasoned, standing up from her perch on the edge of the cushions. “Call me when she wakes up.” Natasha breezed past a sputtering Stark before disappearing into her bedroom.

“What’s the commotion?” Banner asked, popping his head out from the bathroom, a toothbrush dangling from the corner of his mouth.

“Max is unconscious again,” Tony sighed, rubbing his temples.

“She tends to do that a lot,” Bruce replied, spitting out the toothpaste and setting his brush on the corner of the porcelain counters.

“Yeah,” Tony scratched the back of his neck as Banner kneeled next to the sofa, checking her vital signs. “She’s a weird kid.”

“Hmm…” Bruce frowned, moving his fingers to the other side of her neck. “That’s strange.” He pulled out a light from his pocket and waved it in front of her closed eyelids. “There’s no head trauma.”

“No head trauma?” Tony echoed.

“It’s like she wasn’t even hit unconscious in the first place,” Bruce’s brow knitted together as he observed the planes of Max’s face further. “It would have appeared that she just fallen asleep in the middle of the sidewalk, but in Max’s mind she’s still awake.”

“If she had collapsed it could have been a remote brain wipe,” Ton pulled up a chair. “But who would have the tech to do that?”

“Someone who obviously has her DNA on hand,” Banner checked underneath her right eyelid, the pupil dilating, but that’s when all hell broke loose. Max’s body convulsed, her mouth spitting out groans and moans.