~ 15 ~
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Honestly? This is one of my favourite chapters so far. Enjoy.
~
The couch wasn't uncomfortable. I probably should've expected that—I was in the tower of a billionaire, after all. What I didn't expect though, was that I would be surrounded by the billionaire himself, his not-so social friend (I still wasn't sure how he fit into all this) and some robotic voice that kept joining the conversation.
"JARVIS, activate external body scan."
"Sir, I must warn you that the scan only has an accuracy of 89%."
The English voice replied.
"Do it anyways. On our Mila here, please."
Ouch. He remembered my very realistic false name.
"Activating external body scan."
A blue laser appeared from Stark's earpiece, which I hadn't spotted before. It passed my head, my hips and my feet, then moved back up and repeated the movement.
"Processing."
"You're not from here."
Bruce stated.
"She's not from here."
He repeated, now facing Stark.
"I've been in America for two years, actually. So technically I am from here."
"Oh. Sorry."
He awkwardly replied. I just gave him a curt nod, waiting for the conclusion of the scan.
"Processing."
I sighed. Stark seemed just as impatient as I was, the traces of his legs almost carving into the floor.
"Bruce Banner. My name is Bruce Banner."
The man suddenly blurted.
"Oh! Well... Louise Sado."
He nodded quickly, moving to sit on the other end of the couch.
"Banner. I recognise your name. Aren't you... A scientist?"
I pressed my lips together.
"Biochemistry, right? And..."
"Gamma radiation. And nuclear physics."
"Yes! You really are Dr. Banner?"
A smile started to spread on his lips, and I felt my own face light up too. Dr. Bruce Banner... A giddy feeling erupted in my stomach.
"Why—How do you know who I am?"
He questioned, now sitting right next to me.
"I wrote an article on your molecular genetics theory! About gene therapy through adjusting specific DNA strands? I don't remember the full method, it's been a few months..."
"Yeah, yeah! That's-"
"Okay, kids. Listen up."
Stark interrupted, now wearing slightly tinted glasses. He moved his hands through the air, his eyes fixed on one point.
"Did you find something?"
Banner asked curiously. I never would have expected him to look the way he did, but now that I watched him it all fit together.
"I did... Or didn't. Not sure yet."
The billionaire absentmindedly turned around, repeating his actions. Banner and me shared a confused look.
"Okay!"
Stark suddenly slammed his hands together, making me jump.
"I believe you."
"You believe me?"
"Sure do. Now, you're going to have to either travel to my humble home every day, or you can pick out a nice room in the tower. No rent, no nothing. I don't really care about that stuff."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Nice. Banner, you're dismissed. Mila, consider JARVIS your hotel manager, he'll tell you which rooms are taken by chemical experiments and war-heroes."
He turned on his heels, forming guns with his fingers at the glass doors on my right. Should I tell him my name wasn't Mila again?
"Tony, I live here. You can't dis-"
"Bye Bruce."
Bruce sighed.
"Bye, Tony."
With one lost look at me, he raised from the couch and headed towards the lift on my left. I almost followed his example.
The lift doors closed.
"Oh, and I'll send Happy to take care of the cut on your hand."
I furrowed my brows, unsure of how he knew about my wound or of the name he mentioned. Instead, I swallowed my anxiety and looked him straight in the eye.
"Stark?"
He looked at me, taking off his glasses.
"Is Emily alright?"
He didn't respond right away, but hesitated. Maybe about wether he should tell me the truth, or lie.
"People took care of her. I haven't seen her in weeks."
"Good people?"
"The best."
A bit of guilt dropped from my shoulders. Maybe she would be able to look me in the face again, sooner or later.
"Now, get lost. Pretty sure there's a room with a king-sized bed left on the 15th floor."
~
For the house of the richest man in New York, there sure were a lot of stairs. After passing two similar glass doors as the one I had come through in the first place, I let out a deep sigh. I hated stairs.
"The available room is one more floor up."
The voice spoke out of nowhere.
"JARVIS, is it?"
I felt weird, speaking to nobody.
"Yes. I am an artificial intelligence system."
"Hm."
I hummed, finally reaching the 15th floor. The glass doors automatically separated, surprising me. I entered a hallway, two doors on the left and two on the right.
"Which one is the available room?"
"The second door on your right."
He answered, his voice as loud as before.
The door was made of iron, and the handle felt cold as I grabbed it, pushing the door open. As promised by Stark, a large double bed stood in the middle of the room, with the headboard resting against the wall. In comparison to the chamber in Asgard, there was barely any colour. The walls were ash-grey, just like the curtains that hid a tall window with a sliding door and a small balcony behind it. On the opposite side, a similar iron door led towards a closet.
However dull the room may have seemed, I still felt like it was way too much.
"JARVIS?"
My voice boomed through the room.
"Yes, how may I assist you?"
"Why is Tony Stark helping me?"
The question had been roaming around in my head for far too long. I had broken into his home, caused him more trouble than I ever could have foreseen and—not to forget—broke his vase; why in the world would he agree to this? Leave alone let me stay in the Avenger's Tower?
"I believe he has gained an interest in your particular circumstance. Perhaps he knows how to help you, but I cannot be certain. My apologies."
"What about Emily? Did he speak the truth about Em's well-being?"
I hoped—no, prayed—he did.
"Emily Clarke left exactly 45 days ago."
JARVIS paused.
"She was advised to rest, if needed with a medium dose of sleeping assistance. Before she was dismissed, both her blood pressure and heart rate had dropped to a healthy average. She had shown mere symptoms of trauma, but it can be assumed that Ms. Clarke's body has returned to full health."
I truly had no idea if that was supposed to ease my mind or not.
"Thank you."
"Mr. Stark has suggested you rest for the remaining day. There are spare clothes in the closet and you will be awoken before dinner."
I nodded in agreement, walking towards the closet door to fetch the clothes. When I laid them out on the bed, I stared.
"Can you see me?"
"No, I do not have visual aids. Neither do I have physical aspects aside from code, and my voice is merely here to assist others."
"Alright."
I murmured, still not completely comfortable changing with a voice speaking to me. As a last attempt to wish it away, I spoke louder.
"Thank you, JARVIS. Bye."
"Goodbye."
~
"Harder."
I groaned, repeating my movement.
"Harder!"
Another punch.
"Throw your whole body into it. Not just your arm."
I tried again.
"Remember your footing."
I stopped, throwing my hands down.
"Yes, I get it Happy. I'm terrible at this."
For the past two hours, I'd been throwing punches and kicks at sand bags, barely getting the heavy things to move. After an awkward dinner yesterday and a night with barely any rest, JARVIS had awoken me this morning. My breakfast was plain, and right afterwards I was given the message that Stark had a plan for me. And the first step of that plan was for my body to get stronger.
The man let go of the punching bag, looking at me.
"You can't expect to get it right after an hour of training, Louise. It takes time to learn, and your body has to adjust to these new movements."
I sighed, ripping the band that held the boxing glove around my wrist open.
"Right."
"For what's it worth, you're not doing as terrible as you could be."
Happy Hogan was the complete opposite of what I'd seen of the Avengers so far. He was bossy, grumpy and stubborn—but all in a good way. To be fair, I had enjoyed his company more than I was showing. He was normal, and I'd missed that.
"Actually, you suck. Maybe boxing isn't your thing."
Without warning, Tony Stark stepped through the sliding doors, his arms folded in front of his chest.
"Sod off."
I called at him, pulling the glove from my hand and throwing it at his head. He chuckled, dodging it.
"Why do I have to do this if it is not my thing?"
"Me and Bruce are working on something to help you suppress your glitch, as you like to call it. But there is no possible way you would be able to handle it."
"Handle it?"
Happy questioned, looking between us.
"Too weak."
Stark simply stated. I ripped my other glove off and threw it, catching him off guard and hitting my target. He cursed.
"The only reason we're helping you is because Nick would kill me if he knew you were walking free. We don't actually like you."
He raised his eyebrow at me.
"I don't like you either."
I retorted with my hands on my hips, hearing Happy sigh behind me.
"Nice."
"Good."
"Sure."
"Great."
"Okay, settle down, kids!"
Happy stepped in front of me.
"Louise, I thought you were more mature than this."
I huffed.
"Me?! W-"
Stark cut me off.
"What's her status, Happy?"
"As you mentioned, boxing is not her thing. I'd say focus on stamina, perhaps self defence or speed. But I'm not a personal trainer, Tony. You just told me to do th-"
"Yeah, thanks Hap. So..."
He paused for a second, his finger tapping down on his arm.
"Yeah. Yeah, that's more Romanoff's thing. But she won't be coming in for a while."
"Romanoff? As in Black Widow?"
I questioned.
Both of them completely ignored me.
"Try a daily schedule. I'll figure out what will work best, so we can start the doses at the end of the week."
Stark had already made his way back towards the doors, leaving me and Happy to watch him, both with an annoyed expression.
"Thanks, bud!"
The billionaire called as the doors closed in front of him, walking backwards until he was out of sight.
I turned to Happy.
"Remind me, why are you his friend?"
"He pays me."
"Ah."
Happy shrugged, stepping away from the punching bags to retrieve my gloves. I followed him, not exactly keen on continuing with the sport. Luckily, he sat down against the wall after, grabbing a bottle of water and a towel. When I sat down next to him, he tossed the second bottle towards me.
"Wanna take a break?"
He looked at me, resting his head against the wall.
I nodded, drinking from the water.
"Thank God."
He exclaimed.
I burst out laughing, water spilling down my chin. Happy gave me a look and I quickly swallowed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
"How many people have you trained before me?"
"If you count Tony beating me up multiple times so he can feel better about himself... One."
He chuckled, dipping the towel against his neck.
"He can be a real pain in the ass."
"Tell me about it."
"I lost count of the amount of objects I've thrown his way. But I have to say, I've never been able to hit him like you just did."
He grinned.
"Maybe that's my thing. Throwing rubbish at others."
I raised my eyebrows, slamming my hand down on the top of the bottle, closing it.
"You'll figure it out."
Happy planted his hand on my shoulder, shaking it.
"Now, go take a shower and change. You smell."
I pushed his hand off my arm, sticking my tongue out.
"I've done all the heavy work, and you smell equally as bad."
"And I'm twice as old as you, young lady."
He groaned as he pushed himself up, throwing his sweaty towel my way.
"Sorry, grandpa. I will slow down next time, so you can keep up."
I cringed as I tossed the wet thing away from me.
"Don't get your hopes up."
Happy joked.
"We'll find a way to break you."