chapter fifteen

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SUNLIGHT SHONE THROUGH THE blinds in the compound. Outside, the sky was blue, not a cloud to be seen. Robin groaned. He had been up for hours trying to get some shut eye, but as expected, he hardly got more than an hour. He was in a new environment. What was he supposed to do, relax?

He figured he should listen to his friends and not get on the bad side of the people holding him captive. Even if it means loosing my attitude, he thought to himself, shuddering at the idea. Alas, he had to at least try to be civil. They could make his life miserable if they wanted. He got out of bed, yawning. He was tired, not that he could do anything about it.

He walked across the tiled floor, the surface cold against his bare feet. He glanced down at himself, having forgotten he got changed late last night. He could've sworn it was warm in the room yesterday. He entered the small washroom, sparing himself a glance in the mirror. His hair was a mess, but that wasn't unusual. He gently lifted up the sleeve, wincing slightly as he did when it brushed against his wound. He'd been shot before, but with arrows, not bullets. He was certain bullets would take longer to heal, which would be a pain for him.

The bandaged was bloody, unsurprisingly. Robin opened the cabinets, looking for a replacement. A first aid kit, if possible. He sighed in relief when he found one. He shuffled through it, finding a new roll of bandage that would help him for the next little while. He carefully cleaned the wound, ignoring the stinging it brought. Once done, he wrapped the new bandaged around.

He stripped from his clothes and got in the shower, making sure the water was nice. The water hit against his naked body like raindrops on a rainy day. He relaxed, letting his shoulders fall forward. His peace was short lived, however, when he heard a knock of the bedroom door. "Fuck off!" He shouted, forgetting about his idea to be nice.

The knocking stopped and he heard the sound of the door sliding open. Robin cursed to himself, hoping that whoever it is would hear the water running and leave. Luckily for his pride, they didn't enter the washroom. They opted to speak through the door.

"Come in the kitchen when you're done," Tony said. "Breakfast then training starts." He left after that, not waiting for a response.

The demigod grumbled profanities under his breath. He didn't need training. Maybe he was a little out of it after not training for over a month besides the occasional fight against a monster, and he had gotten hurt a few times in that time period, but it meant nothing! He finished his shower and quickly got dressed, finding some of his old clothes on the bed. Someone must've gone to get it for him. Definitely not creepy at all, he thought sarcastically. Deciding to let his hair dry naturally, he went straight to the training room. He didn't normally like eating breakfast. He was never really hungry until later in the day, and the people he was acquainted with knew that very well. Expect, apparently, the Avengers.

After a long time of waiting - three minutes - he decided to get a head start on the training to pass the time. He started hitting a punching bag, ignoring his bitter thoughts from earlier, telling himself he never thought those things.

The Avengers sent Wanda to go find him, seeing as he never showed up for breakfast. She agreed, having been hoping to talk to him anyway. He seemed like he needed someone to be there for him, even if he didn't show it. Besides, his hair looked fluffy. She stood up and visited various places in the building, searching for the boy. She started at his room, and went on from there. After a while of running around aimlessly, she found him in the training room. She knocked on the wall to alert him of her presence.

Robin stopped assaulting the punching back and turned to face the girl, unaware that the equipment was coming back to him. It hit him, causing him to stumble back as he let out a yelp of surprise. Wanda threw a hand up to her mouth, trying to hide her laughing.

The boy's lips tugged up. Yes, she was an Avenger, technically his kidnapper, but she seemed really nice. She hadn't interrogated him, and did the least amount of damage to him, physically and mentally.

She composed herself and stepped closer. "You weren't at breakfast," She said.

He shrugged, agreeing. "Yes, I'm aware."

"Why?"

"I don't get hungry in the morning."

Wanda hummed in reply. She sat down cross-legged on a mat, patting the spot in front of her. Robin reluctantly sat down, copying her pose. He stared at her, trying to decipher her intentions. She seemed to notice. "Let's get to know each other. Tell me something about yourself."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know, the deep stuff. Like... what's your favorite color?"

"Well now you've crossed over the line," He said sarcastically.

Wanda chuckled at the Hunger Games reference, glad he knew where she was going with that. "No, but really. What is it?"

"Blue."

"Like blueberries?"

"Like the sky," Cheesy, yes, but he couldn't help it. He loved being in the sky, and loved flying up there, even if Jason didn't like to join him.

"Mine's red. You know, the whole superhero thing." They shared a laugh, and spent the time until the others arrived getting to know each other. That probably wouldn't sit well with an already nervous Pietro.

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