The secret of a good lie is don't over explain, and throw in one good detail.
[ book three of assassin series ]
[ daughter!hawkeye oc x peter parker ]
[ au, less than a year before infinity war ]
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Lila's POV
No. There's no way that Norman Osborne is alive. It was impossible. There was a funeral, Harry grieved, there was a body. But all of those factors didn't matter because Norman Osborne was most definitely pacing back and forth on the other side of my iron prison. I had blacked out after he sprayed me with what I now believe to be some mind-controlling pheromone. Now I was conscious, laying against concrete behind thick metal bars. This all felt too familiar.
The room around me was too dark to see, but above Norman were dim ancient surgeon lights. The bulbs flickered and casted shadows that allowed me to see only half of his face, while the other half seemed to flicker. My body felt weak, and I fought the fire that dared to erupt from my mouth due to my boiling anger. My hands scanned across the dark floor beneath me in hopes of finding something to anchor to - something to hold on to. I grasp a small pebble, and beside that a small sized rock, the size of a ping-pong ball.
"Hey asshole," I gripped the rock tightly in my fist, and when he didn't turn around I chucked the rock through the bars and into the side of Norman's head. Using what little energy I had, I growled, "let me out!"
At impact, Norman quite literally drops what he was doing. The glass tube in his hand drops to the cement and shatters around his bare feet. I stand just in time to watch him walk across the glass that sprinkled the floor, unharmed. I wait, but no blood comes from his feet, his face doesn't even contort with the slightest amount of pain. His face no longer holds the crazed expression that had been there from before, when he first taunted me on the steps of the school. Now, Norman looks more innocent now and confused to see me behind bars. The lines in his face seem deeper, he's much older and I find myself pitying him the way I do all older people.
"Oh dear," he breaths, even his voice sounding much sweeter, lighter. His eyes flicker across my face and he holds a hand to his mouth as if he were on the verge of tears, "please don't tell me I did this to you - locked you up like some animal. You're.. Tony Stark's niece, Lana?" He was joking. He had to be joking, but I had never seen sarcasm be pulled off this well. Not even by MJ.
"Lila," I correct him first, while running the situation through my head. For a moment I was certain this man had been lying, but when he hears my name I see pain wave through his body. "You put me in here after you stole me from school. But I can't remember a thing, thanks to that stuff you sprayed me with," my head nods to the table not too far from us, near where he had broken the test tube not too long ago, while rubbing my temples in hopes of easing away the pain. On the table, notes sprawl the desk and multiple test tubes stained with different chemicals. Now my hands grip the bars and I shake, "let me out. Now."
