Caged Bird
“This is her?” Steve and Bucky stand outside the room you’re locked in with Fury.
You sit chained in a room of all white. Like a spot of soot, you mar the pristine shine of the room with your dirtiness. Smudging the chair and table as you get comfortable in your chair with hands passively laying on the table. It is hard to look directly at you because you seem to blur in the room. All the white outshines you and makes you receded despite being the only being in the room. They’d sent in agents to question you, yet you’d spoken to no one. They asked about the kids that captured you and you smiled. They asked about the Barton family and you tilted your head. They asked you about the people you killed and you simply laughed. Breaking you was a feat they’d never accomplish.
“This is her,” Fury confirms.
The three of them stare at you. Take in the disheveled tangles that have become your hair, the purple hue that has developed under your eyes from fatigue, and the slump of your shoulders due to boredom. There is nothing about you that speaks of defiance or strength, yet it exudes from your pores. Power contained in a delicate, human looking body.
Suddenly, you look up from staring at your hands and the men collectively suck in a breath when you seem to look directly at them.
Steve shifts and resists the urge to take a step back. “Is she always like this?”
“So far.” Fury crosses his arms and frowns. “I can’t put my finger on it…”
“It’s her eyes.” Bucky replies to Fury’s unasked question. “See how blank her eyes are. That’s why she’s so intimidating. Can I talk to her?”
Steve stiffens, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” He glances back to the you and watches as you sway back and forth now, humming gently. In some ways this terrifies him more than before because how does one deal when faced with a monster? A human can be picked apart until a motive is found. Money? Power? Love? Respect? All motives that can be understood by others, but you? What makes you tick? That is the question Steve asks himself, and the lack of answer makes him feel a shiver of fear.
“Let the sergeant have his turn.” Shrugs Fury as he crosses his arms. “Maybe he’ll get something from her. There was discussion of sending Romanov or Barton in but they’re too close as of now. Perhaps Sergeant Barnes can get something out of her we can’t.”
Steve is adamant though. “No, not until we figure out if she has the ability to use her powers while in containment. Get those cuffs we used on Loki and stick those on her first. I’m not letting you go in their unprotected, Bucky.”
~
Hours later, you’ve been fitted with some amusing cuffs that they seem to think will protect them from your powers. Cute. Amusing. Foolish. You sit passively through the fitting and let them have their fun as the agents lock you up. Then it is back to waiting. For a while you meditate then you decide to look a little farther. Pushing your vision outward you connect with the crows that are flying around the city and watch the world go by. It is toeing the warning your sister gave you, but not enough to make her mad. She was one person you didn’t want to anger. Moving your lips in silent orders you soar above the world and exam it through a bird’s eye view. You remember that you’re powerful. Seeing the world from afar always remains you of such.
“Hello.”
A voice breaks through your traveling mind and you feel like you’re falling as you return to your body. After some rapid blinking, you focus on the man sitting across from you. At first you simply look at his physical shell. The long brown hair, day old stubble, and metal arm all draw your attention. Then you see the darkness. It swirls around him like an old friend and has seeped into his very pores. This man wears darkness like a second skin. It coils like snakes around his torso and cinches tightly around his neck like a noose. He’s choking on it. Not because it wants him to die. No, the darkness loves this man, but so does evil. This isn’t the harmless darkness of a moonless night or a shaded spot on a sunny day. This man has the kind of darkness that lurks in locked rooms filled with screams and bedrooms with blood being spilt between sheets.
Redemption?
For him?
“I’ve seen shadows brighter than your soul.” You watch him draw back as if physically slapped. “The way it crawls over your skin and embraces your entire being makes me want to rub my hands against you to see if they come away covered in ink. Does it make you afraid? The darkness. Do you fear the mistakes you’ve made? The terrible deeds you’ve committed? Your body count is quite impressive, and extensive. They made you a monster, and you’ve yet to reclaim that title from them.”
Whispers of deeds long forgotten crowd your mind and there is a buzz in the voice of darkness as it spills his deepest secrets to you. Naughty little bits and deeds so heinous they should make you flinch.
He stiffens and leans forward. “You think you know evil? You think you understand darkness?”
This makes you laugh and brings tears to your eyes. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’ve lived in darkness so much it has become me!” He snaps as he rises to your bait.
“Darling, I am darkness.” With those words, you snap the cuffs they put on you and reach out a confident hand. In his shock he doesn’t push you away as you swipe a gentle hand down his cheek and pull it back to examine.
“Huh,” you muse. You rub your fingers together and sniff the hand for any signs. “No ink. I guess you aren’t all black and twisted as I think. Pity.”
At this he stands and begins to back toward the door. When his hand touches the handle he lets the panic win and starts to bolt.
“It was nice to meet you, James.” Floats down the hall, following him like his own shadow.
~
“She’s been locked in a cell similar to the one used for Loki.” Nat informs Clint as the two walk down a hallway. “They’ve sealed the whole floor after she left Barnes in hysterics. Why do you want to speak to her anyway? She could have killed Laura and the kids.”
Clint stops walking and turns to stare at Nat. “I know. That’s why I’m so pissed off. She spent months living with my family, singing lullabies to my kids, and becoming friends with my wife to the point they considered her family. Why? She didn’t do anything or even threaten them. When the time came all she did was send a message to Fury. No threats towards anyone… Not even him.”
Nat crosses her arms and regards him with worry. She knows what he wants to do and isn’t sure she supports the idea. While she is still somewhat confused why you’re considered a dangerous criminal, she isn’t one to go chasing trouble (at least not in this case). The primal part of her knows that you’re too dangerous to get involved with. It would be safer, easier, to stay away and let other agents handle the situation.
“Can you at least wait until Thor arrives to tell us if he knows anything about her?” This is her last, halfhearted attempt to convince Clint not to walk into the den of a dangerous predator.
He shakes his head. “No, I need to know now.”
“Okay,” she concedes. “I may have stolen the passcode to the door. Let’s go.”
When they reached the door to the holding room with you in it they pause.
Nat hesitates with her hand hovering over the keypad. “You should go in alone.”
“Huh?”
“You’re the one with more confusion and questions then me. I like the girl but if she can’t reconcile with you then I can do without our potential friendship. See what you think…” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “And if you decide she’s not a monster. That you’d trust her with your family still, I’ll go talk to her.”
“Fine,” grumbles Clint, like a petulant toddler. “Open the door.”
Nat does and then Clint slips in as she shuts the door behind him.
“Clint Barton,” your words greet him as does your amused smile as you sit in your cage with the majesty of a queen. “Come to speak to the caged bird?”