chapter iii.
(   age of ultron   )

i will be king and you will be queen
though nothing will drive them away
we can be heroes just  for one  day
we can be us just for one day
heroes ─── peter gabriel

wakanda
april 27, 2015
(   lisa's point of view   )

A laugh echoes across the plain made of long golden grass and the wind carries the sweet sound down over the nearby cliff. The sun is safe and warm as its beams stretch out along the cloudless sky. And the sky, well, it's utter perfection. It is clear and the deepest shade of blue ever before seen. My short brown hair sprawls out underneath me as I rest the side of my head against T'Challa's arm.

"Nope, no," I laugh again, our fingers tangling together as one of each of our hands are suspended up above our faces, "Sorry, Babe, but you're sort of, kind of wrong on this one."

He furrows his eyebrows and his lips part as his dark eyes dance to my face, "Wait, wait, did you say that I'm wrong?"

"Mm," I hum before trying to stifle another laugh.

"I am not wrong!" his voice gets louder and a bit higher as he uselessly tries to defend himself.

I blink up at him innocently all the while keeping sass in my tone, "Honey, my dad always says that the key to a man winning against a woman is actually letting the woman win the argument."

"I don't even know what that means," he grumbles.

I shrug and sing, "Doesn't mean you're not wrong though."

He turns his head to look at me and the grass softly crunches underneath his face. I smirk over at him, still laughing a little. A sudden gust of wind blows by, rustling the grass and catching hold of my hair so that it flickers over my face. A small blush rises to my cheeks when T carefully pushes a few strands of hair off of my cheek. He lifts his hand from his chest and tenderly rests it onto my side. His arm moves from underneath my head and he gently takes onto the side of my shoulder. My heart picks up its pace a little and I don't even mind.

As he leans closer, I allow my eyes to slide closed only to suddenly feel my body being yanked up into the air. Feeling like my head is spinning, I let out a shriek and my eyes fly open while my hands grapple for something to hold onto. My confusion slowly dies away as I see my newest predicament. T'Challa still has one hand on my side and his other on my shoulder, bracing my torso above his own. His head pulls back and he lets out a loud laugh at the shock still painted onto my face.

"Oh, ha, ha, ha, very funny," I make a face at him.

His laughter immediately dies down and he gives a slightly smug smile and shrug, "I thought so."

I squint, "Oh, did you now?"

"I did," he confirms, still smiling.

"So it was funny that I thought you were letting me go over the side of that cliff?" I nod over my shoulder at the edge of the plain to the sudden dropoff.

"No," his tone softens and his brows dip ever so slightly, "No, that's not funny."

I give a small, teasing smile, "You wouldn't let me fall to my death then?"

"Ha," he laughs again, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "No, I would not let you fall to your death, Lisa."

With a small smile, I carefully lean down to press a kiss to his lips. His hand leaves my shoulder and he gently cups my cheek, holding me closer to him for just a moment longer. When I pull away, I place my hand on his chest where I can feel his heart wildly beating. A small wave of dust hits my face and I shake my head to get it away from me, feeling the soft breeze flow through my hair. My blue eyes lift as I gaze around at the beauty surrounding us.

Small trees grow nearby, desperately clinging onto the edge of the cliff where we're lying. Clusters of forests and green covered cliffs stretch out beyond this one, going on and on seemingly endlessly. A part of me has longed for Wakanda in the swallowing years before now. I somehow get the feeling that this certain part of me always will. Ever since I was a little girl, even before I came across seven year old T'Challa in that hallway, I've always just known that I was made to belong here. There's just something about it; the wide open sky, the ever warming sun, the neverending earth, the beautiful people. It's, well, home to me now.

I can feel T'Challa's fingers carefully arranging my hair once again back behind my ears. My eyes distractedly glance down at him and I raise a teasing eyebrow at him. He gives me a small grin and the back of his index finger softly strokes my cheek. I readjust my hands on the ground so that I can completely look at him.

My dark hair flies around as I shake my head, "What are we going to do, T?"

His smile fades though he continues to finger my hair, "I'm not exactly certain yet."

I flop myself onto my back, gazing up at the sky with a sigh. We lie side-by-side, each of us wearing a matching expression of thoughtfully furrowed brows and twisted frowns. The sun suddenly feels warmer and the sky looks a lot closer until the point where it's closing in on us. The small silence feels suffocating as we force ourselves into thinking about something neither of us even want to.

I finally whisper out, "Do you think this was a mistake?"

He doesn't look at or answer me, waiting for me to continue because he knows I will.

"Is this just too complicated?" I bite back the tears that threaten to form, "Have we made a mistake in even taking a shot at this?"

His lips purse a little, "Do you believe we have?"

"No," I say thoughtfully, pausing, "I want to believe that this is right; that it's exactly what it should be. I just," another sigh escapes me, "I just want to make sure that you know what you would be getting into."

He pulls back, raising an eyebrow at me.

I roll onto my side so that I can face him, "I love you. I love your family, your people, your home, but," I shrug a bit, visibly clenching my teeth, "There's a little lack of that love on their side."

He follows my movement, rolling onto his side as well, "No. That is not true. My mother and sister love you very much, Lisa. And Okoye appreciates you."

Yes, well, appreciation from Okoye means as much as love so I will take it.

I smile, squinting in the sunlight, "Well, I 'appreciate' Okoye as well. She kicks butt."

"That she does," T'Challa laughs a little, looking down at the grass and then back up at me, "And my father... He struggles with the same fears as you."

His father is an excellent father, a wise king, and a kind man. He's never been anything but nice to me, but that doesn't change his opinions. King T'Chaka has never been overly pleased about our friendship and I know that he must like it even less now that we are more than just friends. He fears that his son is making a mistake with me. It's strange. As I sit here in the middle of Wakanda, all I can think back to is a time seventeen years ago when Howard Stark thought that I was once again a mistake. Only that time, I was my father's mistake. I don't understand. What is it with me? Why do I seem to be a mistake for every person I come into contact with?

"And your fears?" I ask quietly, "What do you fear?"

His hand once again cups my cheek, "Nothing," I raise an eyebrow and he concedes with, "Not having you by my side is what I fear."

I can't stop the small smile from coming before I say, "We were just kids, T. Maybe we were wrong."

He shakes his head, blinking towards the grass, "I don't think so. We were not wrong. This was never wrong. And that is what I will tell the council when they ask tomorrow."

I groan internally. The council. A few days ago, T'Challa received a summons to a meeting with them. The council of Wakanda are all relatively good people, at least in my eyes. I mean, I haven't met them overly much but they do all seem to want what's best for Wakanda and the royal family. Which leads us to the whole point of this meeting in that they want to question T'Challa about the "manner of our relationship". I don't know whether to feel more angry or annoyed.

"Just be," I let out a sigh, sitting up and resting my elbows on my knees, "Be careful. I want you to take care of yourself, T'Challa."

He sits up as well, brushing his shoulder against mine.

"I mean it." I don't look at him, "You have a duty. I don't want you giving any of it up for me. I'm not worth it."

His jaw quickly clenches and unclenches, but he doesn't respond. The silence once again lingers on as we continue just staring off at the land that stretches out before us.

"So... you must return today?"

The disappointment in his voice makes me laugh a little and I give a nod, "Unfortunately, yes. I do actually have responsibilities back in America, you know."

He hums back, begrudgingly.

Eighteen hours later, I am both jetlagged and standing up on a stage in New York City being stared at by nearly a thousand people. Oh, joy.

"There are moments that define us. Choices made either by us or for us; it has been said that they decide who we are," I stand on a platform in front of a sea of people, holding my head high as I speak on, "And, if that is true, then let this moment be our moment, let it be our choice, right here, right now, and that is what will define us as a people."

The wind carries across the audience until it reaches me, gathering me up in its calming, cool breeze. It's a different kind of wind than in Wakanda, but it's good all the same. It's still home. My short brown hair brushes along my cheeks and my floral dress bounces against my knees. The crowd of nearly a thousand people are standing before me and yet, after more than six months of giving speeches just like this one, I find that I am not nervous as they point their gazes at me and only me. Most of them have tears in their eyes as they listen to the painful words that relate to them so deeply.

"The first time I was actually taken to the hospital to be treated for abuse, I was nine months old. I had just taken my first steps and my biological mother had pushed me down the stairs in our apartment building. I was thirteen months old when I was hit with a baseball bat. Then I was about a year and a half old when one of her boyfriends took pins and shoved them underneath my fingernails," I take in a deep breath, pausing and giving a small nod, "I could go on and on, and I know that you could as well. I was abused for two years before my biological father took custody of me and those years helped shape me as a person, yes. But that is not who I am.

What they did to us does not determine what kind of people we are or what we have to do with the rest of our lives. You are so much more than your abuse. You are good and decent and you deserve a home: a place of comfort, safety, and support. And that is what this beautiful place is," I step back a little as I spread out my arms, "A home for you and for me and for people like us. It is your choices that define you. So, let your definition to be one of healing. Choose to heal, choose to come home."

The audience bursts into an uproar of applause and cheering as I give a kind, sturdy nod. Other members of what Dad, without my consent, has named "The Lisa Foundation" walk up, shaking my hand and patting my bare shoulder and back. After my scars returned in the wake of the Extremis leaving, I decided that I wasn't going to be ashamed of them. They're mine and I need to remember that they're not a reminder of some stupid kind of failure, but a reminder of my survival.

"Thank you, Miss Stark, for believing in our right to choose," a representative speaks, smiling from me to the still cheering audience.

Next thing I know, Happy and I are walking side-by-side through an overwhelming crowd and I get a flashback to when Dad, Happy, and I did this at the opening of the Stark Expo four years ago. I was so much younger then, fifteen and scared and lonely. Dad had just announced himself as Iron Man and I was learning to live with my thrusters and things were, frankly, awful. It's strange to think of how far we've come. We've fought in an alien invasion, we've taken down a terrorist, we've made a new family, Dad is still healing from his experience in New York, and I've embraced being the Red Raven. We're content; happy even, happier than we've been in a very long time.

I smile widely at everyone I pass as I try to shake hands and give friendly waves while Happy keeps guiding me. Men throw small papers at me with their phone numbers written on them while women shove their babies towards me. I'm not really sure what they want me to do with their babies, but I just give them wide, forced smiles as I pat the children's heads. Happy keeps me moving as he holds one hand on my back and one curled around in front of me in case anyone gets in our way.

All has been pretty great in the life of Lisa Stark.

In the aftermath of the Mandarin and all that ensued because of that whole situation, my little family naturally had to move from our exploded Californian home and set up shop in New York. It was definitely an adjustment from growing up as an only child in a Malibu mansion to now living full-time in a New York Tower with a group of mostly enhanced adults popping in and out like it's a bed and breakfast. Especially when these adults have this horrible habit of hovering over me every twenty-three and a half seconds. It could be worse, of course... I suppose.

I've taken on more responsibility for Stark Industries as I've begun my official training as future CEO. It's made easier with Dad and Pepper's help, and I'm constantly bugging them with questions about what the heck I'm actually doing. It's strange really. I mean, Pepper is the one with the more updated information, but it's been hard to get into contact with her. She hasn't really been around all that much lately. Each time I ask if everything is okay, I've been quickly told by both Dad and Pepper that she's just very busy with the company that we've left behind in Malibu... It just seems wrong. I'm not blind nor am I stupid.

Still, when it comes to getting advice, I've found Pepper has a more systematic way of doing business. Dad, on the other hand, keeps telling me to wing it on things I definitely do not think I should "wing it" on. Honestly, I think Dad has this secret plan to get us all to think he's not trying, and then he's going to somehow take over the world and we're just going to let him because he makes it look so easy. But that's beside the point. My point is that training for CEO definitely is not my favorite part of being a Stark, but it does just feel right. It's my grandfather's and my father's legacy and it's my duty to carry it on.

Then I've also recently started The Lisa Foundation which I am actually incredibly proud of. It was intended to be a small kind of assistance for other abuse victims out there. But, well, then Dad got a hold of my little dream, and here we are. My foundation has now created a two hundred and fifty thousand square foot building complete with hundreds of suites for both singles and families, a swimming pool, two gyms, counseling centers, medical centers, and whatever else I spent hours thinking up. Dad originally tried to help me beyond only giving me funding, but I made him back off just as I used to with all of my elementary school projects. I adored him for the offer, but this one was mine.

Most of my time, when I'm not slaving over the Lisa Foundation, is spent with my dad. As usual, we work side-by-side in the Tower's lab/workshop, fixing up and making new improvements to everyone's uniforms. Bruce Banner is often working nearby so it's nice to also have his support and help when it comes to the sciency stuff. After all, I still not overly into science and I'm often at a loss when Dad and Bruce go into deep detail. Though there is this fun kind of art to what we're doing and, not to mention, I get to spend more time with Dad so I actually enjoy it. It brings back a lot of the same old memories and emotions of my childhood and it's nice to feel that again.

Then, with being in New York on a regular basis, I get to hang out and work with the team more. I say "team", but really I mean "family" because that is what they have been to my dad and me. I've never been overly blessed when it comes to an abundance of family ties. When it comes to me, people usually leave me behind or they die. It just tends to be that way. I suppose I used to think that I was just born to be alone, but that's changed in the years since the Battle of New York. In the Avengers, as they're still publicly known, I have friends, aunts and uncles, siblings, mentors, and all of the things I guess I did not exactly know I wanted. They do drive me a wee bit insane at times, but, most of those times, I'm laughing about it so that's fine still.

Then there's the other thing...

Him. 

The boy.

The one whom I've done my very best to forget all about. Peter, that's his name. Lisa May Stark and Peter Benjamin Parker. My brother. Oh God, my brother. To even think about him makes my heart pick up its pace and my hands clench into fists. I've spent so many restless nights being bundled up in blankets out on the Tower's terrace. The hours will pass into daylight as I just stare out at the New York City skyline, bitterly wondering where he is or what he's doing. He probably would be about in his final months of eighth grade, about fourteen years old now. And here I am, nineteen and completely out of college. I've missed so much of his life. I never got to be his annoying older sister. I never got to pinch his arm or tell him what to do or pick him up when he scraped his knee. I hear he lives in Queens. That's not that far away.

Sometimes I try to imagine what he looks like. Does he resemble our mother or does he more look like his father as I more look like mine? Is he a skinny redhead with warm blue eyes like that ones Mama gave me? Do we have the same smile? I guess I'll never know because I honestly cannot get myself to even look at his picture. It would be too painful. There are just so many unanswered questions that I know that I need to let be unanswered. I'm a black hole that I'm not sure he can survive falling into. He's alive. He's taken care of. He's safe. I won't care about the rest of it.

I'm so caught up in my muddled thoughts that suddenly my heeled feet are tripping over themselves and I'm flying face-first into a large slab of cement. I'm already wincing in anticipation of the pain when quick arms wrap around me. They pull me straight back up onto the shoes Pepper insisted I wear before I can even hit the cement. There are some gasps of the crowd and I feel my cheeks blush a little in embarrassment.

"Whoa, whoa, careful there," an unfamiliar voice tells me with a near laugh.

I peek an eye open, only now realizing that I had closed them in a panic, to see a tall dark-skinned man standing before me. Happy's hands are stretched out as if he had tried to catch me, but the man got there first. My uncle's eyes are narrowed ever so slightly as he watches for the man to make a move that he doesn't like. I don't really feel concerned though because the man has kind green eyes and a careful smile. And he did just catch me from falling flatly on my face so that's already a step in the right direction. I let out a relieved breath as I straighten my dress and gratefully touch his hand that he still has on my forearm.

"Oh Gosh," I nod, putting my hands on my lower back, "I swear I thought I was going to die just there," I turn to look around at the crowd that is still staring which is just, you know, marvelous, "I'm alright, Everyone!"

They all burst out into fits of laughter and I purse my lips out into a frown. Seriously? This is what they laugh at? I say much funnier things and they choose this? This? The chaos continues as they go back to shouting and yelling for my attention. God, these people are ridiculous. Happy frowns a little before he steps back behind me to keep the crowd from latching on.

Turning back to the man, I give an incredibly awkward laugh before rolling my eyes at myself, "Thank you."

"No problem," he shrugs it off, "After everything you've done for people, I wouldn't let a pretty," my eyes widen before he quickly continues, "dress like that get dirty."

Giving a small nod of understanding, I laugh a little, "Well, both my dress and I thank you."

"You're very welcome," he smiles, staring into my eyes before he puts out his hand, "Michael Allen."

I shake his hand as I try to speak over the eardrum bursting sounds of the crowd, "I'm,"

He gives my hand a squeeze before releasing it, "I know who you are."

Something is off about his tone, but I can't quite decide what it is exactly.

I point a finger at him and bend my knees a little, "Right. Of course."

We stand in another stretch of silence for a moment as I awkwardly look around and he slowly blinks as he studies my face. This is all very weird.

"Hey, you wouldn't want to get out of here, would you?" he jabs a thumb over his shoulder, "I know this great place..."

"Oh, well, thank you, but I," I'm taken aback, but I try hard to be polite, "I'm afraid I'm otherwise..." I hesitate and tilt my head back and forth as I search for the right word, "engaged."

There it is again. There is that something strange within this man's tone and now his eyes as well. It's something that I just can't quite place. It's not fascination nor is it excitement. It's not even gratefulness; not that I expect it, but it's just something that I have seen with many of the others that I've talked to. I play the role of Tony Stark, laughing and nodding no matter what it is that the man has in his eyes. You never let them in. You never let them see. It serves you best in the end.

"Superhero stuff, I take it?" he slightly cocks his head to the side.

Sliding my hands into my dress' pockets, I glance around and then somewhat squint back at him, "Something like that."

"Language!"

I make a face off into space as Steve's voice rings in my ears not four hours later. My body is thrown back and I spin a little, trying to avoid Dad's body also bouncing through the air. As I try to balance myself, I stare at the blue thing shimmering up around the cement stone building. Dodging more bombs sent in my direction, I scowl at the shield that separates Dad and I from the HYDRA base towering up a rocky hill.

Steve continues on, not thinking anything about what he said only seconds ago, "Jarvis, what's the view from upstairs?"

"The central building is protected by some kind of energy shield," our beautifully British AI answers in all of our communication links, "Strucker's technology is well beyond any other HYDRA base we've taken."

"Loki's scepter must be here," I hear Thor respond as what sounds like his hammer smashes into soldiers' bodies, "Strucker couldn't mount this defense without it."

"It is!" I yell back to Thor, ignoring the slight tremble in my voice and dropping my chin down so that I can study the energy shield a little better, "I can feel it. It's close."

The god agrees with me in a low tone, "At long last."

Natasha yells back, "'At long last' is lasting a little long, Kids!"

More gunfire echoes across the line before Clint calls to us all, "Yeah. 'Think we lost the element of surprise."

"Ya don't say," I mumble, releasing the beams in my jet boots so that I can drop and scoop up a few white-clad soldiers.

"Wait a second," Dad spews quickly as he glides above a group of HYDRA soldiers, "No one else is gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said 'Language'?"

"I know," Steve stretches out the word before I hear him grunt and then something whirls through the air, "Just slipped out."

I snort and roll my eyes as Dad and I both continue to dodge bullets sent in our direction and shoot some blasts our own back.

"Sir, Miss," Jarvis' voice reaches my ear, "The city is taking fire."

"Well," Dad answers back quietly, the irritation in his voice seeping through my comm, "we know Strucker's not gonna worry about civilian casualties."

"Jarvis!" Dad's head turns towards me before I smirk, "Send in my boys."

I glance above our heads to see the Iron Legion swoop through the gray sky and into the even grayer-colored city behind us. I quickly bring down my fingers to my respective palms, tapping the new rims on my thrusters and sliding to the holographic option that brings my electronic contact to life. An entire interface opens before my left eye and I quickly study how my father's and my new and improved defense mechanism is working out. A view of my dad is on the right while the Iron Legion is on my left. The footage of the Sokovian civilians hurling objects and yelling horrible things at the Legion makes my stomach churn. I don't understand. We honestly just want to help and yet here they are, throwing acid and shouting curses at the things we've designed to protect them.

"Lees! Here! Take!" Dad's voice makes me snap around.

I'm suddenly "taking" a man he tossed my way before he moves onto someone else. I wrap my arms around the man and shoot up, only to drop him back down again. Once he lands, he fumbles to pull out his shotgun and clambers to turn around to face me. I calmly stride over to kick his across the head, rendering him unconscious. My feet crunch into the snow as I curl around and send a hard punch into another soldier's face, breaking his black mask in the process. I duck when he pulls out his pistol and then pull back to give him a hard kick into the gut. He flies and tumbles away from me, unmoving as he knocks his head into a tree trunk. As more gunfire digs into the earth around me, I twist around in spirals as my hands and feet blaze back to life.

I'm just raising my hands to shoot at the oncoming soldiers when Steve says, "We have an Enhanced in the field."

"Clint's hit!" It's Natasha's panicked and yet somehow still irritated voice that I hear next, "Somebody want to deal with that bunker?" I hear a loud roar and then Natasha says in a little, sweet voice, "Thank you."

"Stark, Lees," my head snaps up at Steve calling my name, "we really need to get," he grunts out the last part, "inside."

Dad answers back so confidently, "We're closing in."

The both of us land hard on a patch of snow-covered concrete. Four feet slide across the ground as our hands raise and beams of light shoot the oncoming battalion.

Men yell and are blasted away, disappearing over the ledge. I jog over to the side to make sure they're actually not a concern anymore. My red leather covered hands drop down on the cold railing and I shake my two braids over my shoulders. Dad looks over at me, waiting for me to give a the neutralized confirmation. I nod and he nods back before we both launch back into the outer part of the base.

"Jarvis, are we," Dad pauses, asking not so confidently, "closing in? Do you see a power source for that shield?"

I hang back to let Dad's suit crash through the oncoming metal fence before I spin up to his side, helping him take out the soldiers as they come.

"There's a particle wave below the North Tower."

"Great," Dad smashes through the inside of a jeep as I lift, run along the roof, and leap to follow after him as he curls up, "I want to poke it with something."

"Haven't you heard the phrase, 'poking the bear with a stick' and how you shouldn't do that?" I quickly respond before he launches a missile into the side of the hill.

The shimmering blue shield shudders down, leaving the base defenseless.

As we turn around back towards the city, I look to my dad with a conceding shrug, "Well then. The drawbridge is down, Folks."

I can practically see Dad's smirk through his mask, "Told ya poking the bear would work."

I roll my eyes as I drop down to the earth, bending my knees to accept the weight of the fall. My head slowly lifts as I look at the white-clad soldiers coming at me from all sides, pouring out of the inner base's walls like insects. I give them a small wave before two arms wrap around my torso. I heave a sigh before I flip them over my head with a move that I've perfected by the wonderful training of none other than Natasha Romanoff. I send a hard punch at his head before using his chest to spin myself off of to kick another soldier's face. The conversation goes on through the comms as Dad and I continue to fight our way towards Strucker's frightening mansion.

Thor's voice suddenly reaches me as I punch a man in the throat, "You, Stark, and Lisa secure the scepter."

My hand moves up to touch my comm as Steve answers for all three of us, "Copy that."

"Looks like they're lining up," Thor says, referring to something on their side of the battle.

"Well, they're excited,"

I have a very particular feeling that those people are not excited.

"Find the scepter," Thor's firm voice orders.

"And for gosh's sake, watch your language!" Dad quips back before my eyes.

I double over in laughter, holding onto my abdomen as my red jacket rubs against the back of my calves.

I hear Steve sigh, "That's not going away anytime soon."

"Lees!" Dad snatches hold of my hand and yanks me up before he crashes us through a pane of hazy glass.

As he pulls me inside, I kick a few of the soldiers guarding the window before Dad releases my hand. The rest of those inside the mansion's dark room begins yelling and shouting, firing their machine guns in a crazed panic. My feet land down on the concrete and I duck back behind on the desks, waiting until the shootoff comes to a close. Dad's suit takes every shot, clinging as the bullets make contact.

"Guys, stop," Dad speaks in a very parental voice, "We gotta talk this through."

I purse my lips at him, giving him my very best frown. He has that tone again; the one he's used with me on occasion. Small missiles blast from my father's suit, taking each and every one of them out. The desks and machines rattle as the group of nearly twenty men all crumple to the ground, rolling and groaning in pain.

Still hovering above us all, Dad looks around nonchalantly, "It was a good talk."

As I jump up and wipe my dirtied gloves on my pants, I hear a little voice moan out, "No, it wasn't."

My frown turns to a smirk as I awkwardly step over the still groaning bodies, "Excuse me, Sir. Excuse me."

Dad drops to the ground behind me. His metal boots clink and my leather ones scuff as we continue to make our way deeper into the heart of the mansion. My smirk falls and my face darkens when I see a man I recognize as Doctor List hovering over a desk and numerous computers. List happens to be the insane doctor who has been practicing human experimentation for HYDRA, more specifically for Strucker. Don't get me wrong, I would still be incredibly angry even if I didn't have personal experience with human experimentation. But I do. And, well, to put it lightly, I'm not a fan.

Neither Dad nor I say anything as we glower at him. When List finally does notice our presence, his head snaps up and his eyes widen as he peers at us. He lets out a sound of surprise and he reaches for what I'm guessing is a weapon, and I just can't help myself. My anger flares up and suddenly my fist is connecting with his chin. The old man falls to the ground, his eyes sealed closed and his mouth hanging open in the shock I left him in.

"Settle down there, Spunky," Dad tilts his chin towards me, raising an eyebrow.

I give a sheepish shrug, shaking out my now sore hand, "Sorry. It all happened so quickly."

He laughs a little before the newest upgrade to the Iron Man suit peels apart, revealing my casually dressed father. He steps out, looking around in cautious irritation. I give a wave, now that I can actually see him. He gives me a small smile and a wave back before he holds a finger up to the suit.

"Sentry mode," the suit keeps his arm raised towards the unconscious doctor, ready to fire if necessary.

I fix my jacket over my shoulders to block out the cold blowing through the dark room. Dad and I move closer to the flashing screens of the computers. He plugs a device into the side of the extension, making a blue hologram rise up as I turn to the screens.

"Okay, Jarvis, you know," Dad works beside me, sourcing through and deleting various files, "I want it all. Make sure you copy Hill at HQ."

Our hands type quickly at the keys, trying to work through the mounds and mounds of data that HYDRA has stored on here. I shake my head a little, frowning at the files that I'm seeing. The things that HYDRA has done makes me sick to my stomach: the people they've killed and the people they've tortured, it's despicable. As I sort through the files, a familiar face makes me stop scrolling and frown a little.

Asset: Svetlana Anastasiya Barnes.

That kid from last year; the one who helped kill Fury; the one that I got into a fight with. The one who also happens to be Steve's originally presumed to be dead best friend's daughter. Who is or was an assassin. She, apparently, went on the run with Natasha and Steve a couple days after I left D.C. back in 2014. Yeah, she and her father also apparently were around when Steve and Natasha took down HYDRA-infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. Oh, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had plans to kill both my father and me. So that happened.

From these records, she looks to have been forced to do so much evil in her life. She is, or was, fourteen right now, a couple years younger than me. No one knows what happened to her. They know that the Winter Soldier saved Steve and left him on the riverbank before disappearing, but the girl... No one knows what happened to the girl. She could be dead or she could be stuck in other HYDRA bases such as this one or maybe she's off with her father somewhere. It's strange. I expected this to haunt Steve when I heard who it was. I've done enough research on Steven Grant Rogers to know about his childhood best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. But what's surprised me is seeing how deeply it's affected Natasha.

"I know you're hiding more than files," Dad's voice breaks into my thoughts as he pulls from the computer, looking around and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, "Hey, J, give us an IR scan of the room, real quick."

I wrap my arms over my chest as I squint around.

Jarvis's bright red light scans the area before he informs us, "The wall to your left. I'm reading steel reinforcement,"

Dad and I both turn to look, studying it as we do everything. Dad sways back and forth a little, watching it with intrigue.

"Hm," I hum thoughtfully, stepping over List so that I can reach the wall.

"And an air current," Jarvis finishes as Dad meets my side.

Dad looks the wall up and down, "Please be a secret door, please be a secret door, please be a secret door," he rests his hands on it and gives it a harsh push, making it jolt back and open.

We look at each other as we both quietly chime out, "Yay!"

Dad quickly steps into the blackness of the secret door, nearly disappearing from my view. He moves in smoothly, sliding his hand along the wall as he does. My eyes widen at his eagerness and I feel my heart pick up its pace as the buzzing in the back of my head begins to feel a little louder and more painful. Gritting my teeth, I press a few fingers against the back of my skull in hopes of pushing back the pain. I sigh and take a few steps after him, but my feet stop me as I reach his body that is illuminated by a single white light above our heads. My wide blue eyes look to our right to see a long rusty metal-lined staircase leading into further darkness.

I bite my lip and I quickly glance back over my shoulder, "Wait, wait, you're just going to leave the suit back there?"

"What? I got you to protect me," Dad looks ahead as he carefully creeps down the dark, frightening staircase.

I pause and give his back a frown, "If I'm the one doing the protecting here, then why are you going first?"

"I have control issues," he answers simply and continues on, holding a hand to the wall to keep balance.

"Tell me something I don't know," I playfully mumble before carefully jogging to catch up.

"We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage," Steve tells everyone as Dad and I continue side-by-side.

I give my father a concerned expression, "That's two. How many more do you think they have over here?"

Dad just frowns and shakes his head.

"Guys, I got Strucker," Steve adds in a few moments later.

Dad and I continue walking through the hall with small white lights leading us closer towards the end of the tunnel. A strange blue lit room stretches out before us as we step past the threshold and I catch my breath at the sight.

"Yeah, I got," Dad pauses, both of us dreadfully looking up at the metal beast towering fiercely above us, "something bigger."

A massive room stretches out before us as blue fog hovers around, climbing up towards the ceiling that practically seems like it's not there. Metal chains and locks stretch along the walls and my lips part apart in shock at the Chitauri leviathan being hung there. Other broken technology whether made by the Chitauri or HYDRA, I don't know, lies around still glowing with life. I swallow harshly, ripping off of my gloves, balling them up, and stuffing them into my pockets. I let out a quiet breath as my feet carry me after my father and lightly turn me around so that I can study the place. The buzzing in the back of my head suddenly bursts and I stumble a bit.

Pressing a hand to my head, I wince at the pain in my skull, "Guys, it's close. It's here."

Dad nods, but pauses before a strange looking metal robot that is sprawled out onto a table. His brows furrow down as he studies it, stepping only halfway towards it. His head turns so that he can look towards the machines that remind me an awful lot like Dummy and You, the ones that helped us create Mark II. HYDRA was building robots? Dad and I exchange a small glance as I pass both him and metal things to creep towards the blue-glowing scepter that simply waits for me.

Volts of some kind of energy flicker off of the curved, twisted scepter as it sits on a black table. Strange bands of energy circle around it, guarding it from anyone who goes to touch it. The humming in my brain continues to expand and expand and expand.

"Found you," I whisper, my fingers shaking with power as I reach slightly towards it, but don't even dare to touch it.

Not again.

"Thor," Dad speaks, slightly breathless as he comes up beside me, "We got eyes on the prize."

Small smiles come over our matching features, relieved to have finally found this blasted thing. How many endless months of searching and here it is. Our eyes peer into the blue stone of the scepter. The first time I saw it feels like decades ago. 2012. Was it in Germany? Or maybe we were already on the Helicarrier? All I know is that the Helicarrier was the last place I ever wanted to see it, even though I knew that it wouldn't be. Loki and I weren't done, just as the scepter and I weren't done. Maybe... Maybe now we can be.

A slight screeching noise echoes through the suddenly cold air, moving like knives against ice as it ravages my senses. Wincing again a little, my head twitches slightly to face the red irises of another girl who looks suddenly shocked to be noticed by me. The other enhanced! I open my mouth to shout a warning and I begin to raise my thruster, but there's this sudden red absorbing my sight as the girl's fingers curl and bend. I feel strange tendrils slithering through my thoughts, infecting me in a way that only the scepter has before. My head falls back limply and I feel it sway slightly. I take in a sharp breath and my jaw flinches, but I don't fight it, knowing this is the only way to get through it.

Survive the pain. Wake up. Survive the pain. Wake up.

It's a song that I sing when the visions come. It's been how I've learnt to control my visions. It's how I've learnt to survive with the voices in my head for as long as I have. It's just a dream. Nothing can hurt you in dreams. The nightmares can't reach me. Not yet. They can't even touch me when they're not reality yet. After all, dreams always have to come to an end.

But this time, this time it's different because I'm not really here.

Because, you see, this isn't my vision.

No, no. It's my father's.

The dark lab of the HYDRA base still surrounds us, but something feels different. My hands feel icey and the air feels bitter as I pull it in. My fading red eyes blink as I gently lift my head, trying to make sense of the madness that is around us now. My father stands stiffly beside me, staring off into space. He twitches his head a little as if he's confused at what he just felt.

"Dad!" I call out to him, but as soon as my voice leaves my mouth, my words dissipate into shimmering light and disappear off into the darkness.

He can't hear me. He can't see me. He's all alone now.

A small, glowing blue light burns upon our shoulders, catching our attention. We slowly turn around and then the metal form of the leviathan is roaring in our faces. I gasp quietly as the beams snap and the monster slithers through the air. Dad's hand stretches out in my direction, but it doesn't quite reach before he stumbles back, pulling his other arm up to defend himself. I follow the leviathan's destructive path until it leads my gaze towards a platform of rock covered in the bodies of my family.

My jaw falls slack as I watch the horrific sight of a galaxy sky surrounding us and blood dripping off of the rock platform beneath our feet. My horrified gaze rises to see my family dead or dying. Spears stab out of the flinching Hulk's body, his eyes staring pleadingly towards the rest of our friends. There's a hole blown into my chest as my hand is stretched out and my open eyes are a dimming blue. Natasha is staring lifelessly in my father's direction, no hint of the smirk that usually plays at the ex-assassin's lips. Clint is crumpled over himself with an arrow set into his bow, having gone down fighting. Thor's eyes are closed and his face is cut as the Mjolnir is just out of his reach. Steve's shield is broken in half as his cold, pale body lays rigidly at my father's feet.

Sweat drips down Dad's forehead as he watches on with shuddering, parted lips. A desperate breath falls from his mouth as he steps towards the platform, leaving me behind. He drops to his knees, clinging onto a nearby rock as he feels for a pulse at Steve's neck.

"Dad! It's okay! It's not reality!" my voice comes out this time, but it is so echoed and distant that I'm not sure if he can even hear me, "This is in our heads!"

Steve suddenly jerks awake, grabbing onto my father's hand. We both jump, watching our friend with wide eyes.

"You... could have... saved... us," Steve chokes out.

I look down at my father in disbelief. He let this happen? He let this happen to us? Why didn't he save us? I shiver and quickly shake my head, trying to stop the vision's line of thinking. I don't understand why this hurts so much. It's not real! But this isn't like my other visions either. My other visions are choppy and they are flashes of the future, but this is something else.

Steve's hand falls slack and a stream of blood runs out of his nose, yet we can still hear his voice whispering, "Why didn't... you... do more?"

Dad stares down at him with grief carved onto his face. His brows pull in and his lips are still pulled apart. I can see a slight tremble begin in his hands and there are tears in his eyes as he looks up towards the galaxy that stretches before us. More and more leviathans slither towards the hole torn into the sky, heading directly for Earth.

And then we both snap back up, staring at absolutely nothing with shock and pain on our faces. Sweat still drips down Dad's forehead as his face contorts and he blinks forcefully. He turns to me, quickly looking me over to make sure that I'm still alive. The humming in my head is shrieking now and my hands keep twitching as a result of that. I don't say anything as he continues looking around in a panic, checking if the leviathan is still chained to the ceiling. He struggles to breathe out, clenching his jaw as he looks back towards the scepter with a dark, faraway look.

I can't seem to even think or remember what the heck we were doing before any of this. We, we were... Wait, we're in Monaco, right? No, no, that was, that's not right. It's dark. We're in darkness, and it's cold. The cave! We were in Afghanistan! Oh God, that's not right either. My right thruster quickly rubs into the center of my forehead as the fingers of my left hand rub into my skull.

That was... odd.

My father doesn't take his dark gaze off of the scepter before he suddenly thrusts a hand out. My face turns into one of concern as I simply stare at him as he breathes in angrily and his outstretched hand begins to shake. And then it comes back: what we're doing here, what the purpose of this mission was, and then, finally, what my father is doing. My eyes widen and my heart once more picks up its furious pace as he brushes past me, stepping around the dark desk where the scepter still sits. A metal glove suddenly envelops his arm before he moves swiftly towards the scepter.

I breathe in quickly, speaking in a panic, "Dad, wait, wait,"

My father's hand swipes across the blue barrier and then the scepter is in his hand.

My irises flush open, a splitting pain erupts through my skull, and I stumble back as I stare at the very thing that has the power to destroy us.

And my dad simply cocks his head to the side as his eyes study it.

And I can't help but wonder if this was a mistake.

WHOA, that was SO long! Sorry if you thought it was TOO long, but there was just so much I wanted to say. Did you like how Lisa's life has been and how she has grown into herself? And our man, T'Challa, was around so yay! And her and Tony are as cute as ever! Svetlana was mentioned so that's awesome (what do you think happened to her?)! And the vision... now you see how her chest had been blown in - so that's not how she goes down (then again it might be kind of how things turn out in Infinity War, I don't know if it was a flash-forward or just a dream so we'll see). But anyway, please tell me your thoughts! And you got to meet one of my new OCs so that's cool.

Anyway, Guys, I'd really love to hear from you and please continue to stick with me as Lisa's story continues. I love your support!

Vote, COMMENT, and follow!

Funny Thingamabob:

So true though. And I can't wait for Lisa to meet Pietrooooo and Waaaanda!