Song- The Good Part by AJR

******

I was convinced at this point that my life was some kind of joke. And then... it became even more of a shit show when I got kidnapped.

I was left on the doorstep of Owen's Foster Home for Boys and Girls when I was a kid, with a simple tag on the basket that read, "This is A~~~. Please give her a better life than I could." And just like that, I was an orphan.

I had no memories of my life before that, and the first several years of my life remain wiped from my memory. It didn't help that whoever had dropped me off had only left me with the letter "A" and a severely bad headache. I was told I had had a concussion, resulting in the memory loss, but nothing more was known about little me. I even developed a scar on my forehead, which crossed over my left eyebrow and disappeared into my white hair.

The people at Owen's got to calling me Avery Grace as time went on. Since my parents were so kind as to not leave me a real name, I was at the mercy of whatever they decided to name me. I grew up there with all the other misfits and orphans. I watched kids come in and go out, never to be seen again. A few even returned, much to our dismay. But me? I was never chosen. My potential new families always looked at me with disgust, saying I was cursed or something like that.

I wasn't, of course, but naturally white hair wasn't exactly heard of in nature. Nor was it paired with honey golden skin, green eyes that glinted with mischief, and a grin to match.

The people at Owen's called me Avery Grace because it was by God's grace that I made it to them when I did. After all, who would want a baby who looks like a freak other than God? Ouch, Mrs. Owen. Ouch.

I guess I sort of adopted my own beliefs about God and what He was doing up there in the clouds. I knew I was the way I was for a reason- I mean, c'mon. He does have a sense of humor, and I am the biggest joke yet. And I guess faith is what kept me going as I passed ages seven, twelve, fourteen, and then eighteen with no one choosing me. Not one.

I ended up on the streets after I turned nineteen until I met a few people who took me in. A bunch of hipsters who liked pot and alcohol a little too much. They called me "Prissy Avery". I preferred Avery Grace at that point. I stayed with them only a year until I had enough saved that I was able to get an apartment for myself.

Fast forward a few years to the age of twenty-four, and Avery Grace found someone, and her life in that tiny, two-room New York apartment wasn't so dismal anymore. That is, until my apartment was broken into and I was kidnapped, my boyfriend... I had no idea what happened to him. And wouldn't for what would become three years...

I ended up in this dingy abandoned hospital the people there referred to ominously as "The Compound" where a bunch of scientists strapped me to a hospital bed and excitedly poked and prodded me with needles and IV's. They kept telling me I was special- that I had something called "mutant genes" and they wanted to "awaken them".

I thought they were lunatics at first, but then... when the mutant genes didn't make an appearance, they thought blunt force trauma would make them appear.

They burned, water boarded, cut, hit, and flipped me upside down as they stuck more needles in my arms and told me I was a freak. I would wake up from surgeries, and one day, woke up with a line of stitches just under my belly button... I knew when I stopped getting periods what they had removed, and I made them hear me scream for weeks.

I had no idea how long I was trapped and tortured within The Compound, but around the time that I would be rescued, they injected me with a "new brew" they had just concocted, and with wicked and crazed smiles, said,

"There you go, Avery Grace. Maybe you'll be able to fly out of here." To that, they laughed at their sick joke and closed and locked the door to my cell, all four walls of which were made of five-inch-thick bulletproof glass.

They left me there for several hours until the worst pain I had ever experienced tore through my back and spine. And that was saying a lot, considering I had just spent God-only-knew how long being tortured close to death only to be resuscitated with electric paddles...

This- this was so much worse. By the time I came to, and managed to see through the pain at my reflection in the glass box, I nearly had a heart attack. My white hair was matted with sweat, dirt, and blood. The floor was even more blood.

But despite all of that, two pearly white wings sprouted from between my shoulder blades behind me. The white feathers were spotted with red and brown.

I managed to pull myself to my feet, my heart beating fast as I looked at my back and the wings there. I was partially naked, my shirt and bra practically torn to shreds. They had turned me into a monster- even more of a freak than I already was.

Then, gunshots rang through The Compound, and I looked through the glass, stumbling backwards as I watched men in black tactical suits with rifles suited up with lasers flood the compound. They fired at a few doctors, and with sprays of red, they collapsed.

I couldn't help but feel jealous I wasn't the one to pull the triggers.

Standing at their head was a woman with a brown ponytail and leather jacket. She stared at me for a long time, speaking to some people next to her, then motioned for two people to get my cage open.

I recoiled, shaking all over and expecting a beating, as I waited for the door to be opened, lifting my arms up over my head as my new wings curled in tightly around my body. And when that door finally opened, I flinched, but froze when I felt a gentle hand touch my elbow and I looked up and into the green-blue eyes of a woman with red curls.

"Hey," she said, her voice holding a gentle stillness. "C'mon. Let's get you somewhere safe, ok? Then get you cleaned up, some food and water, and try to get you home, ok?"

I didn't know who they were, or what to believe. Was this some new psychological torture they had come up with? Probably, but decided to trust for once in my life.

I took her hand that day and let her take me to their base, explaining they were an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. A blanket was given to me to wrap around myself and I was shielded from the sun as I was led up and into the back of a truck.

A man with blonde hair got in with the woman with red hair, and I was confused because he actually had a bow and quiver of arrows on his back. My life was weird enough at this point, so the bow and arrows were the least of my worries. He looked from me to the woman with a furrowed eyebrow, then she nodded towards me and then sat down across from me. The doors closed and I stiffened.

I blinked rapidly as I tried to focus in on where I was now. A truck, four walls, no windows, two strangers, people with guns driving. People with guns. Was I moving to a new facility? Were my fears about this being fake coming true? It was working- I was terrified. I didn't want to go anywhere these people were taking me. I'd-

"Hey, it'll be ok. You are safe. You're not going anywhere that you'll get hurt," the woman with red hair said gently. I looked at her blankly.

"Trust me, the only thing you might find negative is Stark's attitude in the mornings when he hasn't slept," the man said with a smirk and a snort.

I furrowed my eyebrows, then swallowed hard before asking, "Where are we going? Who are you? And Stark? As in... Tony Stark?" I hadn't used my voice to speak in so long that it came out hoarse and I had to cough to clear my throat several times. My vocal cords felt raw.

"All your questions will be answered as they arise, but not just yet. You just went through a lot and we want you to rest, Avery."

I stiffened. "How do you know my name?"

"The people who had you captive were saying your name when we broke in," the man said. "And you can call me Clint. That's Natasha."

I frowned. "What are you, some kind of spies?" I asked, squinting at them. I flinched as the truck began to move and gripped a rung above my head. The blanket slipped from my shoulder and the top of the white feathered wing stuck out over my shoulder.

"No... yes... kind of," Clint says. "We're the Avengers."

I sent him a look and asked with a poorly concealed scoff, "The Avengers? That's kinda stupid, don't you think? You just go around avenging the poor lost souls of earth or something? How... sweet. Really, thank you for your service."

Natasha frowned. "You've never heard of us?"

"I-no," I say seriously. "The last time I was in my apartment, it was 2011. Why? What year is it now? How long was I in that hell?" A sense of panic began to flood my mind and Natasha gently reached out for my hand and I snatched it away, tears entering my vision. "Don't," I said, shaking slightly.

They looked at each other sadly, then back to me. "The year is 2014. So, three years," Clint said gently.

I felt like I was going to puke, but of course, I had already vomited up everything in my body earlier so nothing came up. Just my luck.

"Oh..." I said softly, a tear sliding down my cheek. "I disappeared for three years... "

"Do you have any family you want to see?" Natasha asks gently.

I sniffed and wrapped the blanket around myself tighter. "No. I'm an orphan and all I had was my boyfriend, Max. They took me in the middle of the night and I have no idea where he is and if he's ok or if he's moved on from me and has someone else now..."

A tear slid down my cheek and I wiped it away quickly.

"I think you'll be glad to hear the police have been getting reports all three years you were gone about a girl with white hair missing from a young man," Clint says. "The FBI was contacted, then we took over. And it's a good thing we did."

I frowned, mostly confused, but with a hint of hope that Max was looking for me. Natasha cut in and said, "S.H.I.E.L.D. is an organization that deals with peculiarities. You, Avery, happen to be one. But we aren't going to experiment on you. We are going to give you a home, a safe place to recover, and learn how to use your new abilities."

I didn't say anything more and let them blab about the Avengers and who they were. There was Tony Stark, who was Iron Man, who I knew of. Steve Rogers, a man from the 1940's that was trapped in ice and is now here as Captain America. There was Natasha and Clint, Black Widow and Hawkeye, as they called themselves. Then an actual god named Thor, and finally a scientist who played with gamma radiation by the name of Bruce Banner that became the Hulk.

While I was locked away being tortured back in 2012, a problem united them, and that problem was Thor's brother, Loki. When he started shit on earth and tried to bring a whole alien invasion, as one does, the Avengers got together and stopped both the aliens and Loki. The six of them have since then become proclaimed as heroes and go around saving people.

It made sense, then, that I had no idea this was happening. I wasn't always conscious during my time in The Compound. They had a tank that made me go to sleep and I always woke up without any injuries and healed.

Did they put me in cryogenic sleep? I had heard of it but never knew it was possible. I still had no idea if it was possible, but I guess more than I thought was at this point, now that I knew aliens were real and you could turn people half bird.

When the truck stopped, I stiffened, but let Natasha and Clint help me out of the truck where we appeared in an underground parking lot. I looked around and let them lead me into the building, where I was startled to find had windows and I stared out them in wonder at the spring colors outside, almost crying to see the yellows and greens and flowers. I loved flowers more than anything.

I was led to a room that looked like a doctor's office and two people stood inside, talking to each other.

They turned around and my heart leapt into my throat as I choked on a sob. "M-Max!"

He turned at my voice, his face contorting in pain and relief as he took in my appearance and ran to me, pulling me into his chest and hugging me tightly.

"Shit, Avery," he whispered, hands running through my hair, up my back- and he froze when they touched my wings. He pulled away from me and lifted his hands to my hollow cheeks and gently kissed my tears away. I reached up to hold onto his wrists as he did so.

"I-I've been looking for you everywhere, Avery." He whispered hoarsely, tears in his eyes. I lifted my hand to his cheek, feeling the stubble that grew there. "W-What happened to you?" He asked, eyes taking in my appearance and the many scars on my body.

My smile faded. "T-They turned me into a freak." I said at last. I gripped the blanket around my shoulders with one hand and his hand with my other.

"Let's let Dr. Banner see, then, ok?" Max said gently, blue eyes gazing into mine as he tucked some hair behind my ear and kissed my forehead. I couldn't help the shudder that went down my spine.

"Dr. Banner?" I asked, the name sparking recognition.

"Uh, yeah. That's me." The other man in the room said and I looked at him. He had soft brown eyes and curly black hair. He wasn't scary like they had described the Hulk to be. His voice was soft and so were his movements. He seemed just as nervous as I was. "Max can stay in here with you if you'd like, but I'm going to need you to take the blanket off your shoulders." He says gently.

I stared at him then merely reached up and slowly eased the blanket off and dropped it on the hospital bed in the center of the room. Max's eyes fell on the white wings raising slightly behind me and he stiffened.

I flinched and said softly, "There you go. They turned me into a freak- some kind of monster and I don't know what else they did to me. Anything and everything." I say and wrap my arms around myself.

Max didn't say anything, and I felt a pang of hurt deep within my chest and I looked away from him, clenching my fists at my side.

Bruce nodded slowly, then said, "Well, you are neither freak nor monster. And if anyone in this room is a monster, it's me." He says and picks up a clipboard and jots down a few notes as he walks around me.

"No you aren't," I said stiffly. "You helped save the world three years ago. That's not what a monster does."

He stopped and looked at me strangely, a curious expression crossing his face before he cleared his throat and said, "Alright, well, could you come sit on this table for me?"

I nodded and boosted myself up. Max's silence was only worsening my mood. Dr. Banner took my temperature, blood pressure, and checked my heart with a stethoscope, each time showing me the instrument and asking for permission before touching me. Then, he had me stand and took my height and weight, then said,

"Alright, you are severely malnourished and dehydrated. You need rest. It looks like they put you under cryogenic sleep several times by the amount of scar tissue. Is that true?"

I nodded slowly. "I came to that conclusion myself not long ago. They liked to stuff me in this capsule and then leave. When I woke up all my wounds were gone and they'd just torture me again." I looked at my hands and they began to shake and Dr. Banner rested a hand over them. My eyes brimmed with tears and Max watched me like a hawk, his piercing blue eyes boring into my skull.

"Hey," he said and I looked at him. "You will be ok. I promise. It'll get better. You'll heal. It will take time but here, you'll have all the time you need and more as you get back on your feet. Now. Can you stand up so I can see your back? I was told you were covered in blood and there was a lot in your cell. I need to check if there are any wounds."

I clenched my jaw and nodded, turning slowly on the table and pulling my hair in front of me and allowed him to push aside my torn clothes to examine my back and my wings.

Max walked around to stand in front of me and took my hands and I held them tightly. He didn't say anything but didn't have to. The uncomfortable expression on his face spoke enough for him. I released his hands and instead held onto the sheets of the hospital table. He hated me now, I knew it, even if he didn't move from in front of me.

"Avery can you stand for me?" Dr. Banner asked, clearing his throat.

I nodded and didn't look at Max, the awkward tension between us was almost too much for me to bare at the moment, but I couldn't bring myself to care, as I numbly turned away from him. I stood and Dr. Banner said,

"I'm going to feel your spine, alright, and tell me if anywhere hurts." He gently moved his hand onto my tailbone and felt my spine all the way up and I shuddered at how warm his hands were on my cold skin. As he got between my shoulder blades, I sucked in a sharp breath and his hand moved immediately.

"Alright. That makes sense. It's where the wing bones are connected. And miraculously, despite the room filled with blood, there's no mark of trauma to the skin or muscles to the area of the back. If anything, you might have strained a muscle trying to get used to the extra weight back here. You have some scars around your shoulder blades, which are actually larger and it's where your wings connect here and here." He moved his hands to gently touch just below my shoulders to about halfway down my back to illustrate what he meant.

"They tore through my back after they stuck me with some new solution and then locked me in that glass box. They just watched." I mumbled.

"That's not going to be your life ever again, alright?" Dr. Banner cleared his throat. "Alright. Do you want to take a shower and get cleaned up? I'll have some clothes brought up for you, and make sure there are slits in the back for your wings. Do you want food or water or anything else?"

"A meal sounds nice." I say softly.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know."

"Alright. We'll start with very light things like jello and some chicken broth, then work our way towards solids so you don't get sick. Your body is under a lot of trauma. You need rest and an IV."

"Can I drink the water? Please? No more needles." I said softly, hating how broken my voice sounded. I was never afraid of needles, but now, I wanted nothing to do with them.

He nodded. "I suppose. But it'll take a lot longer and you'll have to drink slowly."

I looked up as Max left the room, and I felt my wings lower to the ground, my jaw clenching as I struggled not to cry.

I released a mirthless laugh, then looked over at Bruce Banner. "Didn't you say something about me having all the time in the world to heal?"

A small smile touched Banner's mouth as he said, "Indeed I did, Avery."

******

Hello! Welcome to my first ever Marvel fanfic. I really hope you like it, and I can't wait to write more of this story and take you on this journey with me! Thank you so much for reading and I hope to see you in future chapters :).

Love always,
~Cora Knight xoxo