Same, But Different

Chapter 4--Questions Without Answers

(NATASHA)

(Yes, I know I'm using a lot of POVs, but it's impossible to do something of this magnitude without covering all the viewpoints. At least for me it is.)

When the kid crashed through the window of our Quinjet, we weren't quite sure what to do. He lay there, and for I while I thought he'd blacked out. But then he groaned and tried to stand. His scream of pain seemed to jolt us back to our senses.

"I'll call HQ and tell them we've got an unexpected visitor," Tony said.

Bruce went over and examined the kid as Steve got a vacuum and Clint and I started to cover up the hole with plastic.

"He's barely conscious. I don't think he's going to be able to talk for a while."

"How is there a kid with wings just flying around out there?" Clint asked.

I looked down at the kid. He was young. Only sixteen at the most. "Maybe he's an Inhuman," I suggested. "It'll be impossible to know anything until he comes back around. Is he even gonna survive? It takes a lot of force to break one of these windows."

"I don't know."

I was keeping a close watch on the kid. Jeff didn't seem to trust anyone and I didn't want him to hurt himself again.

After only two days, he claimed he was healed enough he could leave. Yeah, right. I could see the pain in his eyes, no matter how he tried to hide it.

"So, you're telling me that after only two days, your broken leg magically healed itself?"

"Maybe it wasn't broken."

"We have x-rays."

He tensed up.

"We needed to know how badly you were hurt. I'm surprised it wasn't worse. You must be incredibly tough to break through a window like that, and to come away with so few injuries? It's pretty much impossible."

"I'm fine! Watch me!" He stood up, and instantly fell against the wall. He limped back upright, breathing heavily. I could see beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"Jeff, you're hurt. There's no way around that. After you heal properly, you can leave us and never worry about us again. But right now, you need to rest."

"No, I'll be fine."

"It usually takes someone months to recover from a broken femur, and I doubt the wings change that too much."

"I'll be fine in about a month then."

I was speechless for a few moments. "Are you being serious or are you just trying to get away sooner?"

"Bit of both."

I helped him out to the conference room. He demanded meeting everyone who knew about him and his wings.

"Sit here and I'll go call the others in, okay?" He looked unsure but didn't argue.

When everyone was together I called them into the room. "This here is Jeff," I said. "He wanted to meet everyone who knows about his wings."

"It's good to see you up and around, Jeff. I'm Steve Rogers."

I watched him nod. He seemed to be attempting to work out a mental map of the room, noting where everyone was sitting.

Thor, Tony, Bruce, and Clint all introduced themselves, then the two doctors who'd attended to him. He seemed most wary off the doctors.

"Jeff, are you willing to answer some questions?" I asked.

"Depends on what you ask."

"How did you get your wings? Are you Inhuman?"

I instantly knew it was the wrong thing to say. His face became a mask of rage and pure fear at the same time.

"I'm just as human as any of you! Just leave me alone!"

He stood and tried to run, but fell. Clint tried to help him up, but Jeff started screaming at him to stay away.

"We're not gonna hurt you, kid!" Tony said. The others didn't seem to know what to think.

Jeff had given up trying to stand. "Jeff, when I said 'Inhuman', I meant 'someone who's received powers through the exposure to a Terrogen crystal'. That's just what they call themselves. I'm sorry for scaring you."

He sat there, nursing his leg.

"I'm going to help you back up, okay?"

He grunted, which I took as an 'okay'.

I helped him back in the chair and he put his head face down for several minutes. We were beginning to think he'd fallen asleep when we heard him say, "They gave them to me."

"What?"

He sat back up. "You asked about my wings. I was taken from my parents when I was born. They gave me the wings. I grew up in a cage. They took my sight, too, trying to 'enhance' it."

We were all stunned into silence. It certainly explained his trust issues.

"Are there others like you?"

"What? No. Of course not."

We all looked at each other. He was lying. He still didn't trust us. Not that any of us could blame him.

"How are you able to fly?" It was one of the doctors asking.

He scowled at her. "It involves a lot of up and down flapping. Like a bird."

"But your wings should be way bigger to be able to compensate for—"

"I'm done talking."