Pointe Shoes and Spider Webs

72. Argyria

Maria immediately took Daphne to a separate room so they could prepare and restrain David properly in the interrogation room. Daphne's heart has been beating fast ever since she agreed to talking to David and she feels like she's a prisoner in her own head. She's staring at the wall, her blinks only flutters. She hears a door open harshly next to her, but she doesn't respond.
"Daph?" Her eyebrows shoot up as she's brought back to reality by Tony's voice.
"Mr. Stark?"
"I'm here," he says. Peter rushes in behind him, the look on his face could be described as feral.
"Peter," she says breathlessly. He embraces her and she hides her face in his chest, pressing her cheek against the Spider-Man logo. Tony sucks at his teeth, keeping his distance. He doesn't bother asking her if she's okay. He knows she's not. It's a redundant question.

"You don't have to do this." Daphne looks up at Tony and stares at him with a blank look on her face.
"I don't?"
"You say the word and I'm flying you out of here." Her mouth opens slightly, but she closes it again. Her brows curl up into a small frown. Peter tightens his grip on her slightly. Possessively.
"Isn't that illegal?" She asks, not letting go of Peter.
"Both the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. work for the same all-encompassing governmental agency. You're under my care. Fury has no say. As much as he hates it; we're equal in power. He's just more of a spy guy and I'm- Well..." Tony gestures at himself.
"Tony Stark," Daphne scoffs slightly, easing Tony's nerves on her well-being a little bit. He points at her.
"Exactly." He crosses his arms and cocks his head. "So, kid, what's it gonna be?"

Daphne purses her lips. Her eyes glance around the room for a second, but it's no use checking for bugs. Of course, they're being listened to. They're on the Raft, of all places.
"He was there," she mumbles, referencing the night at the Halloween party. She looks down. "Maybe he can break the spell." It's barely a whisper, but Tony and Peter both heard it. Tony takes a short breath and nods once as he turns to towards the door.
"Are you really sure about this?" Peter asks, squeezing her arms to make Daphne look up at him.
"No," she says. "But we can try."

...

Tony and Peter promised they'd stay as close as they possibly could, which meant they'd be behind the mirrored glass. Peter refused to let go of her until Tony practically had to drag him away from her. Tony told her he'd get her out of the interrogation room the second she'd feel unsafe or anxious. Daphne has no idea how she could possibly show him how grateful she is for what he does for her. What he's been doing for her ever since they met. She's just one girl in a whole world of people to protect and the way he's been prioritizing her over his other work confuses her. Why does he care so much? She's not that special.

...

The door in front of her opens, but she's frozen in place. She stares at David, who's sitting in the interrogation room with his back towards her. He's very obviously restrained. Probably for her comfort. There may no longer be a wall or door keeping her from entering the room, but the threshold to actually take the step into it, is large. Gigantic. Humongous. She can see his neck and swallows. It's a weird shade of blue-gray. Is this a side effect of the curse that has been put on him? She takes a shaky breath, closes her eyes and lifts her foot. Without a single word from Maria behind her, the door is shut again and she's alone with him. With David.

Daphne pushes herself against the wall behind him while holding onto her torso. She shuffles carefully to the corner, trying to stay as far away from him as possible. She jolts slightly when he laughs softly. She'd almost forgotten how deep and warm his voice is. How it sounds like it's coated with honey when he's calm. It's the voice she thought she fell in love with when he recited his beautiful poems or serenaded her with the sweetest love songs. But she now knows whatever she had with him wasn't love. No one loves her the way Peter loves her and she doesn't love anyone the way she loves Peter. Lately, all she heard in David's voice was anger and frustration. Like the honey had dried out and was shattered by a brute force. But the warm honey is back. And though once his voice entranced her, now it made her cower in fear.

"Hey, Daph," he says simply. She squeezes her eyes shut. How does he know she's here? He hasn't even seen her yet. How- "I recognize your breathing everywhere." Daphne gasps for air and pushes herself further against the wall. She can't lose it now. She only just got in here. "Are you scared?" Daphne scoffs loudly at his remark.
"What do you think?" David relaxes at the sound of her voice and even dares to let out a soft content hum. At least, that's what Daphne decides it is. Others might interpret it differently.
"I missed you," he sighs.

"Where are your parents?" Daphne decides to immediately jump to the questions Fury wanted her to ask him. David doesn't reply. He simply cocks his head. The blue skin in his neck wrinkling slightly. "Where are your parents?" She repeats. Louder now. She closes her eyes, letting the stuffy air of the room fill her lungs in the hopes of gaining the confidence to call him out.
"I can't see you."
"No, shit." She sniffs once. "You said you'd talk if you got to talk to me. I'm here now. Talking to you and you're talking to me. Answer the fucking question." She won't give him the satisfaction of saying his name. Anything to keep him from moaning again.

"No need to get angry with me, goddess." She shivers at the nickname.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't call me that." There's a short pause, giving Daphne the chance to compose herself.
"I want to see your face, my love." Daphne grips her chest and shakes.
"No." She bites her cheek. "Please, just answer the question."
"Are you begging already?" He chuckles. Daphne's breath starts to quicken and her sight is getting blurred on the edges. She can't do this. She can't. She has to get out of there.

She lets go of the wall and stumbles to the table until she stands right next to him, nearly touching him. He looks up at her, surprised. She's just about as surprised as he is, to be honest. What the hell is she doing? Her eyes lock onto his. His appearance is enough to make her sick to the stomach. Not just because of who he is, but what he looks like too. He looks like he's dead, but not yet buried. His blue-gray skin hangs loose around his skull. She doesn't give him the chance to respond to finally seeing her. She slams the table and uses it to keep her weight up, not trusting her knees right now.

"Talk." A wide grin spreads across his face. His gums are the same sickening color as his skin.
"Argyria," he says.
"What?"
"Argyria." He cocks his head, gesturing at his arm. "Silver poisoning."
"You're dying?" There was no emotion attached to her words.
"I'm not. The disease is purely cosmetic."
"Good for you," she hisses. "Where are your parents?" He blinks a few times at her.
"Only you would know where they are, love." Daphne takes a step back and frowns.
"...Me?" The grin returns on his face and he wiggles his eyebrows.
"You." Her eyes falter down as she thinks. Why would only she know? What does this mean?

"Why don't you just say it?" She asks, frustrated.
"Now, that wouldn't be fun." Daphne closes her eyes and rubs her temples. "If you don't mind me asking," he says suddenly. "I want to know what the silver mist did to you." Daphne stops breathing for a second.
"That's not a question," she quips back.
"Would you, so kindly, my dear, please tell me-"
"Fuck off, David."
"Ahh," he sighs, closing his eyes, leaning his head backwards, enjoying the moment. "Boy, do I love it when you say my name, Daphne." The way he emphasizes her name makes her stomach flip. Daphne's chest tightens again. He looks back up at her, his eyes wide and he smiles. It gives her the creeps. Suddenly, his eyes light up for a split second. His irises silver, as his gaze pierces right through her. "Zephyr," he growls.

There's a beat in which all Daphne's muscles tense. It seems like there is no air left in the room. Memories from the silver mist start flooding back to her. The way he grabbed her ankle. Showed her, her past with Loki. How she should fear sorcerers. How she can only trust the one who made her. His name. Nuveth. She stumbles backwards until she hits the wall and slides down until she's sitting with her legs pulled in. If she still had tears left to cry, they would've come out now, but all she has left is dry sobs as she rocks herself back and forth. Her hands yank at her hair, trying to pull out the haunting thoughts in her brain, and she hides her face behind her knees. Her scar pulls at her skin. It stings.
"Please, stop- make it stop," she whimpers.
"You can't deny what you are, my love."
"THEN WHAT AM I?!" She shouts at him, gasping for air.

She faintly hears a door open and a familiar voice inches closer to her. Two warm hands hold her shoulders, but she can't open her eyes. Peter's talking. She knows it's Peter. But she can't hear him. What is he saying to her? Zephyr-Zephyr-Zephyr. The word haunts her mind, as do the memories. She finds herself back on the field, during the storm. Thunder rumbles loudly in her ears. Someone's calling her name. Peter? She tries to call out, but there's a flash and she experiences the lightning striking through her scar once again. She throws her head back, hitting the metal wall with a loud bang and everything goes dark.