Lunisolace

The interior of tge Sanctuary II was as dark and as gloomy as he had ever known. Not a single light ever seemed to find its way inside this mighty battleship - if there even existed any light. Because at that moment, he was pretty sure that there was no hope-giving light far and wide in the infinite expanse of space that would help him to find a new will to live.

The air around him was sweltering. He felt like every breeze would burn his flesh from his bones. His skin hadn't withstood the heat in some places; it was covered with burn blisters and open wounds out of which blood dripped onto the floor in little pools. The rhythm of that drip seemed to be the only constant in this room. Each time he groaned again, he counted the number of drops of blood falling in his head until he caught his breath again.

His body had stopped healing a long time ago. He didn't know what it was thath they used to hurt him with, but the wounds went far deeper than a normal weapon. Each cut elicited agonizing cries for help from him. While he had been steadfast at first - he would rather have died than give his torturer that satisfaction - his throat was now bone dry and his vocal cords ached from the screams they had been subjected to.

His once shiny black hair was matted and stuck to his temples in lank; mixed with both blood and sweat. He was sure that a little blood dripped down his strands and onto the cold metal floor.

He was floating in the air, back to the ceiling, face to the floor. As if on an invisible stretcher, he was forced to look steadily at the dark ground and watch the pools of his own blood increase; kept getting bigger.

,,Do you see ? Is this your family's gratitude ?"

The black-haired clenched his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment. Even his heart had problems withstanding the current strain.

"Thrown away like a piece of trash. Have you ever wondered how this could have happened ?”

Ebony Maw was one of Thanos' most devoted servants. As the oldest member of the Black Order, he enjoyed his master's full trust; it was no less thanks to his extremely perfidious and sophisticated methods of torture. The lizard-like creature, the black-haired man didn't know this species, waved one of his hands in the air. The small pieces of metal, shaped like ice picks, hovering dangerously close in the air beside the prisoner, began to glow; a fiery orange like red hot iron.

His breathing quickened with every millimeter the bars got too close to him. Eyes wide, he squinted at one of the pieces of metal perched dangerously close to his cheek. He knew that pain, he'd felt it too many times, but it seemed to get worse each time.

"A great god rejected and lied to by his own family. What a waste. You didn't mean anything to them."

"And yet they are my family."

The words were low, broken, but he could hear them. Ebony Maw whirled on his captive and he cocked his head slightly. This one was tough, stubborn. He had already noticed that a few months ago, but he never expected that it would be so difficult to break a simple god.

"What did I hear there?"

He dropped to his knees right in front of him, glaring menacingly into his eyes while raising his long index finger. The metal pick on the prisoner's cheek began to glow brighter and inexorably moved forward until it broke through the skin. An agonizing moan escaped the black-haired man and he narrowed his eyes. His entire body began to tremble with every millimeter that the metal drove into his cheek. The skin around the puncture site turned an icy light blue – a reaction from his body to counteract the blazing heat - in vain.

He clenched his teeth until he tasted blood. The pain was unbearable. He felt like the metal would be driven into his brain, boiling it up. But he couldn't give in. He couldn't let him win.

He began to count the drops of blood. One two…

The image of a beautiful woman appeared in his mind; blond curly hair, trusting green eyes. Her smile had a calming effect on him, it gave him hope. The golden robe she was wrapped in made her look like an angel. There was something magical about her voice. He wanted nothing more than to hear her again. With his own ears and not as an accusing echo echoing in his memories.

He remembered how, when he couldn't fall asleep, her soft hands had gently held him until he fell asleep again after a nightmare.

But that was in the past.

The pain was here and it was real. Nothing could save him. He was damned. How long has he been here? months, years? He had lost all sense of time. His only constant companion was this red-hot pain. He would not be able to escape, there was no escape for him. He knew this was the place where he would die.

And he screamed.

Elizabeth Stark woke with a startle from her sleep. The screams echoed in her head. Panicked, she reached blindly towards her bedside table and after a few tries managed to turn on the lamp. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her throbbing temples. The images of the torture scene flickered in front of her inner eye and she quickly widened her eyes again, ignoring the burning as her eyes hadn't adjusted to the sudden brightness and instead looked at the alarm clock on her bedside table.

4.36am.

"Another fucked up night. And it's groundhog day again”, she moaned irritably and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She knew that just lying back down, turning off the light and pretending shehadn't had a nightmare like other people did, wasn't going to work. That has never worked for her.

"Dan, I think I'll..."

She stopped short at her own words as her gaze fell on the blank page lying next to her in bed. "Oh, right, I kicked you out."

She shook her head determinedly and padded in the direction of the kitchen and thus the coffee machine. Her sleep-fogged brain had to wake up properly before she could be of any use.

She made herself some coffee, got changed, put in her contacts, pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and put on her running shoes.

The cold night air was a blessing to her. She jogged toward the Hudson River, looking around.

Even if she had become an early riser rather involuntarily, she loved seeing New York from this side. Queens was still mostly asleep at this time. Only here and there were a few workers heading out for their shifts, Delmar was unlocking his kiosk at the corner, and a few office workers were walking their dogs or jogging as well.

New York was always particularly quiet at this time. Elizabeth always enjoyed those moments in the morning when she could have complete privacy; no noise of cars, no smell of exhaust fumes, just her and the sound of the Hudson River. This is how she liked to prepare herself for the day; it was her best way to clear her head after a night like this.

But not today.

The prisoner's images didn't seem to want to go away. His suffering had plagued her for so many nights, so many years. Most days she managed to shake the memories of those dreams from her mind with a strong espresso and some good cardio, but today was a bad day.

His voice haunted her. With each of his screams, which echoed in her head, she got a little bit faster. She never saw his face, only that black hair, the dried blood and the puddles on the floor. But his voice, his screams, she would recognize them anywhere.

Those days were the worst. She was now sprinting down the sidewalk, almost as if she could escape the cries for help that way. Something began to constrict her throat and instead of stopping, she accelerated even more. But she knew she could not escape this power that haunted her. She was a part of her, she would never just let her go like that. But she couldn't let her win. She was still master of herself. First of all, she had to clear her head.

She stopped abruptly, out of breath. The cold air was like pinpricks in her lungs and she tried to focus on the burning pain; she would rather do anything than hear those bloodcurdling screams over and over again.

She braced herself on the right hand rail that separated the sidewalk from the Hudson River. She gazed across the gleaming surface of the river, concentrating only on the sound of the water. In the distance a flock of seagulls screeched and somewhere she could hear a ship's horn. The sun was just rising and sending its first rays over the skyscrapers of Manhattan.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. She could feel that power slowly receding into hers, almost like an echo that seemed to fade away. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. Today those dreams wouldn't have the power over her.

The aisles of Eleanor Roosevelt High School were as crowded and noisy as always. Eilzabeth wished she could block out the noise, but to no avail. One of the students was shouting at his girlfriend across the hall, a group of other teenagers were gossiping about a teacher and another group of girls were apparently arguing about which boy in their class was prettier.

Elizabeth sighed and took another sip from her XXL coffee mug. Shortly after she got back from jogging, her head had started pounding badly and, unfortunately, not even the strongest painkillers would be able to relieve her migraines. With every step or loud noise, she felt as if someone was tightening a tool clamp around her head.

She was glad that the students who were just standing by the door to the staff room made way with a friendly "Hello, Miss Stark" and she could enter.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cake hit her immediately. Elizabeth blinked several times; wait...cake?! It must have been one of her colleagues' birthdays. Just following her nose, Elizabeth finally spotted a tray with a large tin of brownies and a note saying that one may take one.

As she grabbed a piece of the brownies and bit into it, she yelled at the desks with her mouth full, "Hey, who's birthday is today?!"

"No one's, I just wanted to be the nice colleague."

The voice behind her startled Elizabeth so much that she nearly dropped her to-go mug and spun around. Standing behind her was Daniel Brooks, a very handsome gym teacher, but unfortunately also a very big asshole.

"Dan!" she uttered, half irritated, half frightened. Her pulse quickened automatically and she glanced around furtively, glad that one of her colleagues were standing just a few feet behind her, putting her food into the fridge. He too had noticed the colleague and put on an apologetic smile.

"I didn't mean to scare you, sorry."

"These are your brownies?"

"Yes, I know you love brownies."

She frowned and tossed the bitten piece into the garbage can. She was glad not to have taken too big a piece. ,,Not any longer. I am successfully cured.”

With a low grunt, she quickly pushed past him and strode quickly towards her desk. Of course he followed her immediately. Some of the teachers looked up as the two swept past them.

"Wait, I know things didn't go so well the other day and I know I made mistakes, but I promise I'll get better..."

Elizabeth tried to block out his speeches as best she could as he followed her all the way to her desk. Margaret, one of her colleagues who had her desk next to her, gave her a pitying look, which Elizabeth returned with a look that meant, "Save me."

The black-haired grabbed the stack of worksheets she'd copied yesterday afternoon, shouldered her bag and turned to leave. Unfortunately, the blonde was still standing in front of her with a put on puppy look and continued his speech. Did he really wanted it to look like she had done the mistake and not him ?

"Dan, that's enough," Elizabeth then spoke in a low voice, trying not to draw the attention of her other colleagues. "I kicked you out for good reasons and I certainly won't let you move back in just because it's been a few nights. Leave me alone."

The dark-haired walked past him to the small kitchenette and tucked the copied worksheets under her arm while she refilled her to-go mug with coffee.

"Listen," Dan said and followed her immediately. ,,I'm sorry. What else do you want to hear? I've apologized so many times I can't even count. What else do you want to hear?"

"You're lucky I didn't report you," Elizabeth spoke quietly.

"Is that a threat?"

Elizabeth held her breath and swallowed. He had positioned himself next to her and had come closer. She tried hard to breathe calmly. No, he wouldn't dare; not at work. He had too great a reputation to lose. And she'd had enough of ducking her head at him--of being scared of him.

Biting her lower lip instead, she proudly raised her chin and tossed the coffee pot a little too loudly aside and grapped her mug. "It's the regulations and I have to stick to them. We both signed them. This is anything but a threat." She glanced around to see if any of her colleagues were within earshot. ,,Sleeping with a pupil isn't a small mistake like forgetting my birthday or...or not taking out the trash. If it turns out that I've covered you, my work will also be put to the test."

"You think I care what's up with you little whore?"  He grabbed her wrist so hard it hurt. He glanced around furtively, but none of their colleagues paid them any attention. ,,If you betray me, or her... You will wish you weren't born. That's a threat."

The blood roared in her ears, her heart pumped it through her body at an incredible speed. She could feel herself beginning to tremble and clenched her hands into fists. She swallowed hard. She would not give him that satisfaction. She looked him straight in the eyes.

"Touch me again and I'll scream."

He laughed softly. ,,Do it then. I'll tell everyone you shagged that ninth grade bumpkin who's been telling everyone about his crush on you, lately. What do you think, who wohld they believe more?"

She swallowed hard. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't. She didn't want to appear weak, not in front of him.

The gong sounded and there was a spirit of optimism in the staff room. Dan immediately released her and took a step back.

"Hey, we'll see each other later. And don't forget what I told you," he said happily and with a charming smile as the first colleagues rushed past them. He kissed her on the lips and Elizabeth's blood froze. Then he disappeared.

She stood there for a moment, rigid and shocked. Then she took a long sip of coffee and also disappeared.

The lessons passed excruciatingly slowly. As a student, she always thought it was just her, but no: as a teacher, it wasn't exactly different. On the one hand, she was glad because it meant that the time untilshe would have to see Dan again would be longer, on the other hand she just wanted to go home and to bed. The pounding in her head had gotten worse and she felt as if she had had electrodes pinned to her temples, sending small bursts of electricity into her skull every few seconds.

"Miss Stark?"

A student's voice brought her back to reality. She looked up questioningly. Most of them were still busy filling out the worksheets. She walked around her desk and crouched down next to the student to look at his worksheet.

"What do you mean with rhetorical devices ?"

She frowned and looked at the excerpt from Shakespeare's Macbeth printed next to the exercises. Not much, just a paragraph or two but apparently enough to confuse the students. She noticed that several other pairs of eyes were now staring at her with a large question mark in them. SHe must had had really confused the children, apparently.

She got up and took a look around. "Okay, let's discuss task three together!" she announced then and went back to the blackboard. "Alice, could you please read the task?"

,,Read the following text carefully and mark the rhetorical devices used by Shakespeare. Write their terms in the columns on the right.”

,,Okay, very good. Rhetorical devices, which one of you can tell me what that is again exactly?” Elizabeth asked while she tiptoed a bit and wrote the caption on the blackboard. When she turned around, two hands had gone up. She had hoped for more, but it could have been worse. "Brandon, yes please."

"Rhetorical devices are linguistic devices that the author uses to better express certain feelings or circumstances. Metaphors, for example, are comparisons without like.”

"Very good," she wrote his answer in bullet points on the board. "Can someone give me an example? Samantha?"

"He uses a metaphor on lines four til eight. Kind gentlemen, your pains, are register'd, where every day I turn the leaf to read them. He likens memories to a book that can be read over and over again, just as memories can be replayed over and over in our minds.”

Elizabeth frowned in surprise. ,,Really good. What stylistic device-"

A gong rang in the classroom, interrupting Elizabeth mid-sentence. Shortly thereafter, a short hissing sound came from the loudspeakers: "Miss Stark, please come to the school office. I repeat: Miss Stark, please come to the school office.”

The black-haired woman drew her eyebrows together in confusion. Why should she come to the office in the middle of class ? She felt her students' eyes on her and turned to them. "We'll do another example and then I'll let you work on your own for a moment. Can anyone give me an example of a rhetorical device ?"

She ignored the uncomfortable feeling spreading in her stomach. She didn't know why, but she felt like something was going on and her headache didn't help that.

"Riley?"

"Second section, line sixteen to nineteen," said the girl and Elizabeth noted the line numbers on the blackboard. ,,Now does he feel his title hang loose about him, like a giant's robe upon a dortish thief. Is that a comparison?"
Elizabeth nodded and realized shortly afterwards that this movement had been anything but helpful for her migraines. ,,That's right. In this sentence, however, there is also-"

Again Elizabeth was interrupted; this time not by the school bell, but by the door to her classroom, which flew open abruptly.

Not only her head but also her students' heads flew to the source of the sound. The black-haired frowned in surprise as an old acquaintance stood out in the doorway, seemingly out of breath. "Happy?!"

Her father's security guard gasped and adjusted his tie before entering the classroom and giving the students a half-hearted smile and a "Hello, kids" wave at them. He walked towards Elizabeth and stopped in front of her.

,,What are you doing here ? Is something wrong with my dad?” she asked in a muffled voice.

"No, he sent me. You have to come with me, right now.”

"I'm in the middle of class, I can't. I can-"

"Elizabeth?"

A murmur went through the students when Tony Stark stood in the doorway to their classroom. He too seemed out of breath, but what startled Elizabeth more was the worried look on his face. The last time he had looked like that, had been when her mother….

Elizabeth watched as he replaced that expression with a cheerful one and stalked into the classroom. "Hey, kids," he greeted the children, who couldn't really believe that Iron Man was standing in front of them. "If you don't mind, I would like to steal your teacher. And maybe, if you guys are nice, I can come by for a lesson and we can chat a little. About technology and school and homework and..."

While Tony made his speech, he had grabbed Elizabeth's arm and was slowly pulling her behind him. She was so perplexed that she didn't even know how to react.

"Maybe we'll see each other again, see you later."

When they finally stood outside in the hallway, Elizabeth's brain slowly seemed to start working again and when she realized that Happy had her work bag under her arm, she freed herself from her father's grip and stopped.

He stopped abruptly and turned to face her.

"What was that supposed to be in there ? You can't just pull me out of class. I can't just leave these kids alone. I have a duty of care that I can't just-"

"Thor was attacked. They wanted it.”

These words caused Elizabeth to stop immediately and look at her father with wide eyes. He grabbed her by the sleeve of her dress again and pulled her further with him. "See ? You certainly wouldn't have wanted me to tell you that in front of your students."

"Wait a minute, what? What the hell is going on here ?

"I'll explain that to you when we're on our way. You are in grave danger.”

"On our way to where?"

"To the Avengers headquarters."