Riley felt as if she was betraying Andromeda. She hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. Talking to Wanda Maximoff should not feel like a death sentence, but it just so happened to be that way. It was a betrayal towards the girl who never once showed her anything other than care - the one person Riley could see in her life forever. And Asher. It was a direct betrayal towards both of the child geniuses.
But Wanda was of Hydra, and so was Riley. They had both encountered them when they were young, and they had both lost a brother in the connection. Except Riley knew her own brother was still alive under the brainwashing of the Nazi scheme.
Wanda wasn’t a terrible person to talk to. Riley didn’t feel threatened, and Wanda had promised to not enter Riley’s mind without consent. It was… chill. She never thought she would be using that word, but that’s exactly what it was. Talking to Wanda was chill.
And she wished Andromeda would get out of her room and try talking to the witch as well. Riley didn’t know much about Andy and Ash’s disappearance and time at Hydra, but they had been quick to recover and get used to their new powers.
But they never left each other for too long. The geniuses were suddenly not as witty as before, and the Starkasm was lacking everywhere the two went. She knew their time at Hydra was terrible. She had been a victim there before, but at least they both returned. When Riley had been there with a boy whom she would consider a brother, only one of them made it out. It wasn’t fair that Andromeda and Asher would just refuse to talk about it when they had helped her to talk about her own experience some years earlier when she had woken up.
She had talked to Steve because of them - the very guy she had once blamed for her own misfortune. She had put her feelings out and solved her problems with the blond Captain America. But here they were, refusing to talk to her or the woman they seemed to blame for their misfortune.
Wanda was good. She had good thoughts and opinions that Riley could agree with. Sure the young woman (a year or two too old to be a teenager) had made some bad choices, but she solved them in the end, and Andromeda and Asher could now do even more extraordinary things than before. They could protect themselves better now. They could be unstoppable now. (Why didn’t they see how much worse it could have been?)
Riley was never good at understanding, but she understood things even less than she had hoped to. Andromeda was great. She was perfect in every aspect except for this one. She wouldn’t talk. She refused to explain herself to Riley and sometimes turned the opposite way when she saw either the super soldier or the Sokovian witch. Was it guilt that kept Andromeda away? Did the Italian feel guilty about the fact that her father’s company had murdered Wanda (and Pietro)’s parents?
“Don’t force her out of a shell,” Steve said, sliding a plate of pancakes her way. “Andromeda knows her limits better than you do, no matter how much you wish otherwise.” He slid another plate over. “Just give her these and hope she’ll eat something to get her blood sugar levels up.”
Steve didn’t know any more than Riley did, but he had completely changed too. He and Andromeda were usually at war, but now they stayed neutral. The brunette had not made a single remark about anything the blond did, and it was almost infuriating for annoyed Riley got by this new behavior. Why could nothing in her life be normal?
But she didn’t answer Steve; she didn’t ask Steve why.
Riley took the plates, leaving one in the hands of Bruce Banner who was about to be with his son anyway, and moving upwards to where Andromeda’s room was.
Riley had known Andromeda the longest, except Steve. She had been through the new changes to her room all the time, and she knew how and when the changes happened. But she was yet to figure out the newest change. Andromeda’s room was no longer a light purple, but a dark one instead that made the whole atmosphere harder to read.
Her desk was clean and her bed was made. The girl in question was sitting on the floor, doing a 5000-piece puzzle. “I bring pancakes,” Riley said, sitting down on the opposite side of the brunette. “Steve-made.”
Andromeda looked up. “Not hungry,” she said quickly, placing the last corner piece. Riley noted the finished puzzle that had been moved to the corner of the room where Ariadne the cat lay upon it. That had not been there some days ago.
It was crazy what the girl could manage when left alone on her own or stuck with her brother of different kin. It was insanity, really. It was the opposite of good. Andromeda would slowly but surely go insane if she were to continue like this, there was no doubt about it. Someone needed to get the girl out, and Riley was very close to taking on that job.
But she didn’t. She let the matter go entirely, just as she had the days before and the days before that again.
...
Four more days passed before Andromeda was out of her room alone. She had been out several days, but usually with Asher or her father close by. Riley wouldn’t talk to the Banner guy, Daniel had already done so many days ago. She was just too cowardly to talk to Andromeda for fear of saying something that would trigger either the girl or herself.
And to add to it, the relationship dynamic was wildly different between them. Asher and Daniel were in love with one another. Daniel had been so since the first meeting, and Asher was giving heart eyes when the redhead wasn’t looking.
Riley and Andromeda were not like that. The brunette had helped Riley through the toughest times of her life, and shown her that it was okay to be different from the people surrounding you. She’d caught her up on different movements that had passed while Riley was in the ice - the gay rights and women’s rights, and then she had baked a cake for Riley after bombing her with too much information.
But unlike Asher and Daniel, Andromeda Stark was not in love with Riley Barnes. They couldn’t understand each other the same way. It was platonic, nothing more - it could never be more.
Andromeda was sitting in the kitchen, watching FRIENDS on her computer with Ariadne in her lap. It couldn’t be very comfortable, but the girl and the feline had always been as one. They were the same, just in different fonts.
Riley had noticed that after Andromeda got back, her cat’s fear of fire had subsided and was near nonexistent. It was so unnatural, but natural at the same time.
“Where’s Asher?” Riley asked, sitting down to the left of her friend.
The brunette looked up and shrugged. “Probably with Bruce in the lab,” she said, smiling in a way that didn’t look quite real. She wanted to be alone, Riley noted. But there was barely anything called “alone” when you lived in the tower. JARVIS was gone, but Andromeda’s ROMA (Rhea, Orpheus, Medea, Andromeda) had taken over the tasks until Tony created a new one. The point being, you were never totally alone.
“You good?” Riley asked next, trying to start a conversation in hopes of the road ahead lighting up.
“Yeah, as good as one can be,” Andromeda said, scratching Ariadne behind the ear.
Riley didn’t believe that, but she didn’t dare say anything. Why was she suddenly so conflicted about talking to Andromeda? It had been fine before Ultron.
“You know-” Riley was cut off by footsteps approaching them. A head of brown hair could barely be seen before Andromeda was up and out the door on the opposite side of the room. Wanda stepped in, a look of guilt on her face, and Riley could feel her annoyance build up. Seriously, this needed to stop.
“I’m sorry,” Wanda said. “I did not know there was anyone here.”
Riley shook her head. “Don’t be. She’ll warm up to you eventually.” She didn’t take notice of the expression on Wanda’s face. She walked out the same way Andromeda had. It was about time that girl got her shit together.
“Riley, I love you, but can you not be here right now?” Was what greeted her when she stepped into the small library at the tower. It was only the two of them there, and Andromeda had not even looked up to check who entered. ROMA probably.
“Wanda wasn’t going to hurt you,” Riley said confidently. “You didn’t have to leave.”
“I know she isn’t going to hurt me,” Andromeda said, her chocolate-brown eyes finally meeting Riley’s own. There were layers of lies within those eyes; secrets that had not been there the last time they had a proper chat.
“Then why?”
“Why what, Riley?” She put down the book she had been reading - one Riley had not seen before.
The Brooklyn girl took a deep breath, knowing this was already going the wrong way. But she couldn’t run out now. She could not leave the conversation for another day.
“Why do you avoid Wanda as if she’s personally offended you?”
“Because she has?” Riley could see Andromeda’s eyes search for any escape way, but Riley was always quicker; she was a super soldier for fuck’s sake.
“Because she was with Hydra?” Riley asked. “Because I was with Hydra as well, and you never once treated me badly.”
“It’s not the same, Riley. You know it’s not the same.” Ariadne jumped down from one of the shelves and tread lightly by her owner’s feet.
“It pretty much is,” Riley insisted. “Would you hate me if I was in Wanda’s place?” She knew this was how to get to the Stark. Andromeda would realise how wrong she was for treating Wanda badly. The witch had lost her twin brother, and Andromeda still refused to acknowledge that Wanda had turned to the good side. It was childish to hold a grudge only because of circumstances.
“Yes.” Andromeda didn’t blink, didn’t look away. “If you did what Wanda did, I would hate you. Now get out and get your fucking shit together before I lose control of these oh-so-wanted powers that I volunteered for.”
Riley was out seconds later. She’d have to try again later when Andromeda calmed down.
Andromeda was fine. Not as fine as she used to be when she was young, but the kind of fine she could be after the therapy went wrong. She wanted to talk to someone, but she didn’t want anyone to know anything. So she talked only to Ariadne and Asher, the latter of whom had been there with her.
She remembered the first couple of days when she still had hope that they would be found. She had wanted to talk to Riley - to ask how the girl had experienced it. But it wouldn’t have mattered, she realised quickly. Their experiences were wildly different, and never would she want to compare. At least not…
“I’m sorry.” Riley stood in her doorway Why hadn’t ROMA warned her? The two had not talked since the super soldier had tried to confront her in the library some days prior, trying to figure out why Andromeda refused to talk to Wanda.
They didn’t know. Asher and Andromeda had both agreed that neither wanted Wanda to end up in a worse position than they already were. The Avengers did not know how big of a part the Maximoff twins had in their kidnapping.
Wanda was a villain in their story, but she didn’t need to be a villain in everyone else’s story as well. Her father would never allow Wanda to stay if he knew, and she didn’t hate te witch to where she believed she should go without shelter.
“You’re sorry,” Andromeda repeated. “Whatever are you sorry for?” She knew, of course, but she also knew that Riley wasn’t there just to say sorry. If she was only to say that, RIley would’ve brought something with her. Riley was alone, with nothing in hand.
“The other day,” said Riley. “I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.”
“Is that why you are here with intentions of continuing the ambush?” Andromeda sat up in her bed, moving Ariadne to the floor where the black cat curled in on herself and went back to napping on the carpet.
“Well…” Riley closed the door slowly. “I’ve talked to Wanda, and-”
“And that doesn’t matter,” Andromeda cut her off. “You can talk to Wanda, but I won’t, and that’s fine.”
“But it’s not!” Riley was getting frustrated, and Andromeda could not fathom why. The calm atmosphere that had previously laid over the room like a soft blanket was replaced by the blonde’s irritation. “Her brother died! And you’re acting like she’s some form of monster!”
“She is. We all are.” Andromeda willed her fingers to create a spark of fire - the start of a flame. “We are unnatural - experiments gone right, but experiments nonetheless.”
She willed the flame to appear back and let it spread up her arm until it reached her elbow. It was calming. Had the opportunity been there she would’ve done this in the cells at Hydra - protected herself from the nights and the monsters. But they had her trapped. They had her collared.
“You mean to say we aren’t survivors?” Riley asked, looking at the fire with no ear in her eyes. “That’s what you said back then; you called me a survivor.”
‘We are survivors,’ Pietro Maximoff said, standing in her cell. ‘Victims of your father. How do you feel no shame for what you have put us through.’ Andromeda hadn’t had an answer for the boy. She had tried to escape one of her first days there, before her powers and before the strength and hope left her. She had planned with Asher, but the boy had been first. They had taken him on his way to meet her, and then Pietro and Wanda had taken her back.
That was the first night she couldn’t sleep. Wanda had been in her mind, keeping her awake with new visions of what might go wrong with her brother. Every time she closed her eyes, Asher lay lifeless in front of her.
That was only the first night. Asher survived, but she didn’t know that before she was sent in herself. She couldn’t remember much from the night it was her turn. She had hardly slept, her mind was overworking itself and she had lost most hope. All she could remember was that she woke up in a new cell, and Asher was next to her. He was alive, she could no longer be tormented with questions about the fate that he met.
Except they were valuable to each other, and Hydra knew that. At any disobedience, the other’s life would be threatened. When Andromeda was forced to overexert her new powers it was Asher who was put in front of her, and when Asher had to go through different tests it was Andromeda’s life on the line.
“Andromeda?” The brunette let the fire die out.
“You are a survivor, Riley,” Andromeda said. “You were taken from your life by force and put through torture and grief for their science. You survived an attack.”
“So did Wanda, so did yo-”
“No.” Andromeda wished she could be angry. She wished she could manage to feel her anger as she did before. If she tried to feel, she would burn. Fire was in her mind at all times. It was a comfort. Andromeda loved fire. She loved the heat, she loved the destruction. She had always loved fire, and her powers seemed to have been perfect. But she didn’t want everything to burn. She could not let her anger be felt through her heart and brain, She would hurt someone. She couldn’t hurt Riley. It wouldn’t be right.
“Wanda and Pietro chose this,” she said, keeping her tone as calm as possible, even when the fire flickered to life under her skin. She wanted to burn. She wanted to be like the witches before her, only surviving for them. The fire. She loved the fire. She was the fire. She was a victim. Wanda wasn’t. “They chose to join with Hydra. They chose to be experiments, unlike you. Unlike Asher. Unlike me.”
“So that’s your reason? Because they chose it?” Riley was annoyed, Andromeda could see it, feel it. Her temper was never bad, but it was as if her temperament changed the thermostat, and Andromeda could feel the temperature on Riley’s skin heating.
She was a source. Everyone around her was a source of fire. She could take the heat from their skin, leaving them freezing, but alive as long as she didn’t get greedy and took too much. But she didn’t like doing that. It was what Hydra had wanted her to do. She couldn’t do it then; she promised them she wasn’t able to. They believed her, for once. It was information for her, and her only.
“Are they less worth to you because they chose their mutation? Their own life?” Riley took a step forward, a mere meter from Andromeda now.
“They were a victim of their circumstance, just like I was, and just how you and-”
“I wasn’t a random victim, Riley,” Andromeda said sharply. “I was a target I was targeted specifically because of my father and his legacy. Wanda and Pietro had their eyes on me long before they took me away.”
Riley frowned, and Andromeda could see the conflict that was fought in her head.
“They took me personally, Riley. They posed as therapists, altering the very place I should find safe. They knew my mind, my fears, and my love, and used it against me for months before we were found. Because my father’s weapons were used in war, I was put through mental torture. She’s been in my head for nights in a row, keeping me up with the purpose of silencing me.”
Riley grabbed her wrist, her hold solid. Andromeda tried to get away, but she couldn’t. She never could. The guard held her to the wall. He pressed himself onto her, touching her face and hair. He held her, trapping her with no escape. She tried to get out. She tried to light a fire. She couldn’t. She didn’t have her fire. The collar was around her neck. She couldn’t burn. He couldn’t burn. He reached under her torn-up t-shirt. He-
“She’s changed, Andy.” Riley’s voice cut through her mind. Andromeda could see the heat from her skin now. Andromeda grabbed the blonde’s wrist and lit fire to it, making the blonde let go in shock. It didn’t hurt her, but she could see the fear that rushed through Riley’s veins. She didn’t run away, and Andromeda would’ve expected. She was scared. She was cold. Her temper and temperature were drained in favour of a point proven.
“Wanda and Pietro nearly killed us in there, Riley. Because of them, Asher and I barely made it out.”
Icy blue eyes bet chocolate browns, a look as cold as the Arctic ice. “At least both of you made it out. It could’ve easily gone another way.”
The fire died as quickly as it started. Riley was out of the room before Andromeda got the chance to throw her out. “It almost did.” The Stark whispered to herself. She grabbed her jacket and her phone and left the safety of her room.
She needed some air.