Chapter 3
Phil
“Not the same?” Phil asked Natasha at her reveal.
She shook her head, “There was some minor differences. The lab is going to review it more to see if they can find out why it was different.” Phil heaved a sigh, what did they do to his nephew?
“Can we trust them with that?” Sam suddenly questioned from off to the side.
“What do you mean?” Steve inquired right back.
“I mean, not even 3 months ago did we rid S.H.I.E.L.D. of it’s Hydra infestation. We did a pretty good job at getting rid of them, but now knowing that Sheildra was a thing since almost the beginning of S.H.I.E.L.D. I just don’t know if I would be willing to trust them with someone who they could manipulate to do their dirty work for them.” Sam explained.
“Aren’t you a therapist? Shouldn’t you be the first person to be against suspicion of our allies?” Clint asked from the side practically leering at Sam.
“Unless you already have reasonable suspicion, such as evidence that it has happened in the past and could happen again!” Sam exclaimed right back at him.
“Are you implying that I would allow another organization use S.H.I.E.L.D. like a puppet again, Mr. Wilson?” Fury suddenly rumbled from behind the group, appearing as silent as a midnight fog.
“I am not saying that you would let it happen, but it could happen with out you knowing, just like with Sheildra.” Sam argued. Fury gave him a deadpan look.
“While I don’t agree with that, I do agree that he shouldn’t stay here.” Fury stated, eyes slowly moving off Sam and onto the rest of the group before resting on Phil. “He may be your nephew, but he is also a super soldier now, we don’t have the kind of personnel capable of beating him in a struggle without severely harming him. It would be best if you took him with you to Avengers Tower and handled him there, with Agent Coulson to supervise of course.”
“You just want Stark to pay for any damages he causes.” Clint accused with a smirk causing Fury to glare at him for a moment.
“I am sure you can handle his care, Dr. Banner.” The S.H.I.E.L.D. director stated, and when seeing Bruce nod, he left with no preamble.
“So… who is going to let Stark know?” Clint asked looking around the group. Natasha settled her heavy gaze on Clint before answering.
“I sent a text to Pepper already, she will let Stark, Thor, Rhodes, and Barnes know of the change of plan.”
“When did you have time to do that?” Clint questioned, baffled.
“No matter, that means that we have to get him to New York now.” Steve interrupted before turning to Phil, “Should be let him sleep through the ride or should we wake him, so he isn’t startled?”
Phil took a moment to think. “Mieczyslaw has always been one to panic a little in unfamiliar circumstances. It would probably be best to wake him for the flight.” The rest of the group nodded in agreement.
“I’ll prep the Quinn jet.” Clint offered before turning on his heel and heading out.
“I’ll get what medical information the staff might have on that I might need.” Bruce informed before he also retreated.
“I’ll head up to the jet, I don’t want to freak the kid out with any new faces right now.” Sam said.
Phil looked to Steve and Natasha with a sigh, “Well, we best get this done now,” he resigned. With a nod from each of the others that remained, they entered the room yet again. The two Avengers lingered in the doorway as Phil approached his still sleeping nephew. Gently, Phil placed his hand on his shoulder, but a hand whipped out wrapped around his wrist and he froze. Following the hand, he realized that it was Mieczyslaw’s hand, and that his nephew was staring at him with panic glazing his eyes. The grip was tight, tighter than someone of Mieczyslaw’s stature and build should be able to produce, a definite sign of the serum that now was a part of the teen.
“Mieczyslaw, It’s okay. It’s me, Uncle Phil.” Phil tried to calm him, but it didn’t appear to be enough. So with a firm voice, Phil called out a nickname he hadn’t spoken since his sister had passed.
“Mischief!”
Mischief
“Mischief!” He snapped back into the forefront of his mind as the name was called. He blinked his eyes to clear them, and before him he saw a man, Uncle Phil, watching him with concern. He then realized that his hand was wrapped around something and he looked down to see what must have been his painfully strong grip on his only uncle’s wrist. Mischief released it as if it had burned him. Apologies rose up in his throat and when the teen looked at his uncle the came spewing out through his mouth.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I-,” His uncle interrupted him at this point.
“It’s okay. I’m fine, don’t worry about it. Calm down Mieczyslaw, calm down.” Slowly Mischiefs breathing slowed and he calmed slightly. “I’m sorry I woke you up, but we need to get going.” Phil expressed to him.
Mischief frowned, and a question burbled up his throat and spewed out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Where are we going?” But instead of being mad or annoyed like the doctors and men from the base, the middle-aged man smiled at him softly before answering.
“We’re heading to New York. Stark tower to be specific.”
“Actually,” the red head interrupts from the doorway, “the press, and therefore now the public too, is calling Avengers tower because we all have practically made it our permanent place of residence.”
The teen’s head turned to look at her and he felt this niggle is his mind that he knew her, from somewhere. He stared at her a moment, and she looked back. When she raised an eyebrow in question, he looked away and eyed the All-American hero that stood by her. The blonde-haired man was watching him worryingly, like something could happen any moment. The brunette turned back to look at his uncle and then spoke, “Well, what are we waiting for?”
Phil gave a chuckle at that and backed away slightly to give Mischief room to stand. He moved over to a nightstand against the wall next to another door and opened the bottom drawer. The older man pulled out some slipper like shoes and brought them to the teen.
Mischief slipped them on and followed his uncle out of the room, the other two that were in the door way moving aside so that they walked in between them to exit the room. The two avengers trailed after them as they walked the halls and out into what looked like a clinic waiting area.
“Where are we?” Mischief asked.
“S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.” Phil informed him as they continued to the elevator.
Steve
“S.H.I.E.L.D.?” the teen asked before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. They entered the elevator and Phil pressed the button for the roof. All three of the adults turned to look at him and Phil opened his mouth to explain but the brunette started first.
“S.H.I.E.L.D. is good… No, S.H.I.E.L.D. is them.” He started to look alarmed, he looked at Phil, then Natasha, before resting on Steve as disbelief and panic entered his eyes. The look put all of them on edge and just as Steve was going to start trying to calm him down, the kid backed away from them and into a corner of the elevator. “No, no, no. It was a lie. You lied!” the teen cried out looking at his uncle in horror.
Phil looked concerned as he reached forward, Natasha reached out and stopped him from making physical contact with his nephew. Steve was confused as to why for a moment, but then he recognized what was happening.
“This is a test! I failed, I failed, I failed…” The kid was practically sobbing by now and his breathing was getting erratic.
He was having a panic attack.
“Hey, woah, calm down. Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D. was infiltrated by Hydra for a while, a long while, but not anymore. This isn’t a test; we just want to help. So, you need to calm down and breath, kid.” Steve explained, crouching down onto the floor of the elevator. “Breath with me kid, can you do that?” The former WWII soldier started to exaggerate his breathing as he tried to maintain eye contact with the teen.
Slowly the panic started to fade form the teen’s eyes and his breathing started to slow and regulate. Phil slowly crept forward and knelt on the floor next to where his nephew had practically collapsed during the panic attack. He pulled the shaken young man into his arms and firmly held him against his chest for a long moment. The older man then pulled back slightly and rested his hands on the teen’s shoulders, and gazed right into his nephew’s eyes.
“I know you don’t remember much right now, and I know that a lot has happened, but I want to always know that I would never do anything to hurt you purposefully. I will do what ever it takes to keep you safe from here on out, okay?” Phil declared.
“Okay,” Mischief whispered with a nod.
The elevator came to a stop and the doors opened to the wide expanse of the roof. Steve reached over and helped the kid up while Natasha helped Phil up as well. They exited the elevator and made their way across the concrete to the quinn jet.
The corners of Steve’s lips pulled up when he saw the way the kid practically ogled the interior of the jet. Clint gave a wave from the pilots seat as they found their own seats.
“I would say buckle up, but that’s a little too cliché, even for my tastes.” He comically stated before closing the hatch and beginning to lift off. “We should be back in New York in an less than an hour.” He called back as they ascended into the clouds that hovered over D.C.
Phil
Silence descended on the room as they all sat quietly. Phil took the time to think to himself, as the others did.
The panic attack should have been expected, he knew that his Mieczyslaw had a history even before his sister’s death. The teen seemed to be slowly remembering some stuff, but it’s was still at a very slow rate. They would have to see if they could find the reason for his amnesia and if it could be helped.
What worried him even more, was the fact Mieczyslaw must have been in Hydras captivity for at least a couple of months for some of the things he noticed. Which means that he had to have been missing from Beacon Hill’s during that time. Yet, he hadn’t received any word from John that his nephew was missing.
Why wouldn’t he tell him that Mieczyslaw was missing? He hadn’t received any news of John dying, and that just left so many questions in his mind. One thought rang bright and true though, if John wasn’t dead yet, Phil might just do the job himself if he knew about Mieczyslaw missing and decided to not tell Phil about it.
Phil was on a war path, one to protect the only member of his family left, and no one would stop him from raining hell on those that had hurt his nephew.