"Boys, it was lovely catching up. I hope I get to see you again before you leave, Sam."

I drop off my empty champagne flute on the nearest server platter. "Murk," I greet. "I trust you're behaving yourself?" With my arms crossed over my chest, I give the man a sideways look. My eyes wrinkle at the edges as I give a little squint, my lips faintly upturned.

"I impressed Stark with my little party trick." He gloats before punching back a half glass of what I can only imagine is straight vodka. Whatever previous amusement I once held is swept away like a stormy torrent. I can't stop the frown from forming as a chill settles deep within my eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but I'm beat to the punch. "I know, I know." There's a forced groan as he links his arm with mine and begins to navigate us towards the periphery of the party. I sneak a glance over my shoulder to find Steve and Sam still watching me from their point above the bustle. "What's the harm of a little candlelight though?" He whispers close to my ear and proceeds to tip his head forward, igniting candles perched around us.

"It's not your party tricks that concern me. You are fully capable of controlling the flames you create, there's no doubt about it." I turn on him and place a hand on his chest to prevent him from brushing past me. "Whether or not you choose to control those flames is a consideration all of its own..." I tack on with a more knowing tone. His gaze levels with mine. It's a blank look. Lips pressed into a line, slight tilt of the head, tense jaw. I hold my hands up in defeat. "but I digress. I'm just worried that you're going to get manipulated and used, again. You and I both know Stark doesn't have the...cleanest record." After returning my hands to my sides, I spin once and put some distance between us. "Don't get me wrong, I know, or at least I think I know, Stark and his friends are on the right side of this war with HYDRA. I just...I also know that they'll do anything to win and I don't want us getting caught up in a fight where we're pawns again. I don't want to lose you, lose ourselves."

"You need to trust that I know what I'm doing, that I can protect myself now." The brunette slides past me with a sudden air of heaviness weighing us down.

"You're right, I'm sorry." I reach out and gently grasp his upper arm to stop him, my head tilted upward to meet his warm eyes. I hang my shoulders and tilt my head to mirror him. "It's just...gonna take some getting used to, yeah? Keeping your ass out of trouble is ingrained in my DNA now." We share a smile as I give him a soft shove with a balled fist.

"You keeping me out of trouble?"

"Yeah!"

"I always remember you getting into trouble with me. Remember Paris?"

"That was-that was one time!" I whisper sharply, unable to contain my sudden smile as I pull him further from the party, and in extension, prying ears. We laugh for a short moment, reminiscing one of our few happy moments together. Murk clears his throat as I regain my composure, the two of us looking over our shoulders at the guests conspicuously. The space between us suddenly ignites with anxiousness.

"Stark asked me to stay." Murk tells me so suddenly, I'm sure I must've heard him wrong.

"Stark? You? Stay here?"

"Okay, well, us, but you know he's just trying to be nice by letting you stay too." His hazel eyes flash with mischief as he now redirects his eyes to his nails.

"Oh, of course, of course." I play along with a smile. Before I can ask more serious questions, like when this occurred, if there are contingencies, what does Stark really want, is he expecting something in return, you know, the good questions, the topic is changed. Murk decides its time for the two of us to get another drink. Seeing him so lively, so happy, I decide to let the interrogation sit on the backburner for now. There will be plenty of time to talk about this later, apparently. At the bar, the two of us are all real smiles, hearty laughs, and lowly-whispered snarky comments for each other's ears only.

The two of us don't always see eye-to-eye on many things, and we may tend to fight like cats and dogs...but at the end of the day, we make it work. We've learned to compromise. To adapt. We're family, after all. The two of us escaped the clutches of hell and practically raised each other. From kids to adults, we're the only ones who truly understand each other. Well, I take that back. Sometimes Murk acts more like a fifteen-year-old rather than a twenty-four-year-old and I can't always wrap my mind around his strange antics. Being two years younger than he, I can often pin whatever trouble we get into on him since he's 'supposed to be the influential adult' or some other jeer about him being old.

After we get our drinks, we mingle a bit more with the party-goers. I get to watch Murk as he interacts with the crowds. He's bold, flashy. The man loves attention, loves all eyes on him, as he entertains and enthralls those under the sway of his silky voice. His personality is naturally out-going and energetic, a natural magnet to crowds. I've never been able to fathom how he always seems so cheery, so bright and loud. Murk is the life of a party not unlike a certain billionaire. It's no wonder why the two of them seem to get along so well right off the bat. Speaking of, my eyes zero in on the shorter inventor who is in the process of bantering with Murk. He's well-dressed in a fancy suit that is completely opposite to Murk's current attire. An odd couple the two of them. I swirl the liquid fire in my glass before turning my back on the two of them. I can't help the smile that draws my lips upward upon seeing my oldest friend so happy and carefree. It's something he deserves after everything we've seen and done.

Later in the night Murk suddenly jerks me away from a conversation. He's a grinning fool who leads me to Thor and Steve, who are with some of the WWII vets that Stark invited probably for Steve's benefit. "Thor's got the good stuff." He says after I express my displeasure at being interrupted. I roll my eyes. The kid's been looking for 'the good stuff' ever since the two of us discovered neither of us has the capability to get drunk.
Since he's pyrokinetic and I'm an energy manipulator, we both run warmer and have accelerated systems compared to normal people. Or, in layman's terms, we burn the alcohol before it even has a chance to slow us down. We're much like Steve, actually. But that makes sense considering HYDRA's plan was to recreate the 'SuperSolider SerumTM.'
When we arrive at the scene, one of the vets is being escorted out of Stark's tower while the other two are face down on the bar. I give the older gentlemen a startled look while Murk dives right into a conversation with Thor. As I manage to turn my startled attention from the older three, I note Thor has caved into Murk's pleas. He splashes some of his Asgardian cocktail into my partner's drink before doing the same to mine. I sniff mine suspiciously while Murk goes right to knocking his back.

"Uhhh, is this even safe?" I peer up at Thor, who laughs and claps his hand onto my shoulder. Before he can either offer comforting or warning words, we both become distracted by Murk. He clenches his teeth, lips pulled back as he exhales sharply. His breath catches fire, giving him the image of an imaginary creature. "Oh, hell no." I quickly push my drink into the hands of Steve, who stands on my other side. The patriotic individual laughs as he takes the glass off my hands.

"You're missing out, Iris." Murk gloats with a distant look in his eye. For a brief moment, the briefest of all, I consider it. Was it worth it? To try it once in my life? Was it all that adults made it out to be? No. Murk was the only person I really trusted and right now I needed to make sure he didn't do anything stupid.

Steve gently nudges my arm with his elbow. I look down at the glass I forced into his hands, which he now offers back to me. "You sure?" God, it's so tempting.

"No. No thank you. The two of us might be inherent dumbasses, but I have a stronger sense of self-preservation than to play with this fire." I reason, trying to convince myself more than anything. Rogers sets the glass off to the side.

"Want me to help you with him?"

"You sure? He might not let you go." I laugh while catching Murk before he can nosedive into the floor. I find Steve supporting his other side.

"Now who would I be if I left you to your own devices?" He responds, tone edging on laughter as the enhanced between us sways closer to Steve.

"Of course. The great and selfless Steve Rogers, never one to leave a damsel in distress." I offer Thor a good night as we assist Murk from the dwindling party into the elevator. The two of us manage to balance the tipsy flirt between us long enough to get him into bed. We even get a slurred 'thanks' before he's gone to the world of warm alcohol unconsciousness. Yet, even now that I know he's safe and sleeping, I can't find it in myself to immediately leave his side. My eyes are glued to the messy mop of curls smushed into the pillow. "You're wondering why I exercise more self-control than him. Why I turned my nose up at the chance of, well, this." I lean forward and brush a loose strand of hair from Murk's face before standing and ushering Steve out of the room. The door clicks closed behind us softly.

"Well, I didn't want to be rude."

"How scandalous that would've been." I joke with a roll of my eyes, but that light is quick to extinguish. "I used to be the loose cannon. Not thinking twice. Diving headfirst into whatever half-thought out plan we'd come up with, not a care about consequences."

"What changed?"

"Everything." My voice weakens to an octave above a whisper. "Think about it. I'm a self-creating energy producer and manipulator. Really think about that Steve. You might not have as much experience here in the twenty-first century as you do back in war times, but the world has not changed much." It's like watching a new sunrise in his eyes. The fog lifts off the waters of his blue irises. "What the world would do to own unlimited power, unlimited energy. Regimes would crumble under the war to control such a thing... Fortunately, they didn't quite crumble, but they were threatening to, so a choice was made.
"The two of us were taken from Russia, together, initially. The threat of destroying anything around us just so we could get back to each other was too great a risk. In the beginning, they tried controlling Murk with the hope he could turn me since I was more of the spitfire. They tried to bend him to their will, but he'd already faced old school HYDRA techniques and anything they threw at us was child's play. Then they came to realize they didn't need him. He was too much work, too spirited. Besides, I was the mark. So he just became collateral in the game of war strategy." Steve and I lean against opposite walls of the hallway. "They still tried to control him though, don't get me wrong. But when they couldn't sway him? When he wouldn't bend? They changed tactics and threatened to break him right in front of me. Threatened to take him away if I didn't play nice. So what was I, a child, supposed to do except comply? Murk had already done so much for me, so it was my turn to protect him.
"Once again I began to feel like a caged rat. Resentfully I allowed them to test me, push me, train me... All the while though, they did whatever they could to suppress Murk's abilities. They held him under their thumb tyrannically. He couldn't use his pyrokinesis. Kept in what I'd call cold rooms, kept away from anything that could carry a charge or flame. Meanwhile, I was being taught how to use what I'd been cursed with."

"That's why you know so much more about your limits."

"And why we know so little about Murk's." My lips turn upwards into a bitter smile. It feels like I've just swallowed acid with all the old memories bubbling to the surface like impurities being boiled from gold. And yet...it's easier to breathe now. I've finally let go of a load that's been weighing me down since finding Murk. All the unpleasantness which came along with seeing his face again after so long.
"At some point, we were truly separated. I was taken to the States by Alexander Pierce before the whole DC fiasco." I pause a moment to gauge Steve's reaction. The dark turn to his eyes, the sudden rigidity to his muscles, the way he stands to his full height. His chest puffs up like a soldier ready to confront a dastardly enemy. "He was mainly an overseer of my progress. More often I'd have contact with Nick Fury. Eventually, Maria was assigned to me in an attempt to train me as an asset. I grew close to her since she was the only one who treated me like a human, albeit more like a new solider. But it still felt better than being treated like just a source of energy, like a means to make a profit. I don't know what happened to Murk after I was taken to the States, and I've been too afraid to approach the topic since I've only just gotten him back. I don't want to drive him away or bury him under dark memories which could truly break him. Or worse, destroy him this time." The quiet stretches on for a long while between us. I can't find it in myself to look away from my shoes. I can't bring myself to see Steve looking at me as if I'm broken glass. I don't want to see the pity. Or worse, disgust. As great as it felt to unload the darkest parts of my history, now I'm wishing I hadn't. There's no way he won't hold me away at arms-length now. I'm a dangerous, broken nuclear fuel rod. I'm an accident waiting to happen. A destructive force seconds away from dragging anyone near me down.

Right?

"Iris." Even under the softness of his voice, I can't bring myself to look. "I can't take away your past. Can't take away that kind of pain, can't even begin to imagine what it was like all those years. But I can tell you that you have to be one of the strongest people this world has yet to see." The shock of his words settle within my bones, rattling me to my core like a rock dropped into a still pond. I dig my nails into my arms as I bring myself to meet his eyes. I can see the sincerity in those depths. There's pity, yes, but there's conviction there too. There's pride. There's astonishment. "After all of that, and still, you're here. You're fighting for what's right instead of finding yourself in the shadows spitting hate and serving death." This feeling blooming in my chest feels...nice? It doesn't feel like the tightness of anxiety. It feels like pride after being praised by one's father. "I heard Tony extended an invitation for you both to stay, and I hope you'll consider it. The two of you have bright futures." My lips waver as I fight back tears, my heart aching from happiness for once. I take a deep inhale, feel the cold air inflate every inch of my lungs as I wipe away the streaks left behind on my cheeks. "So, what do you think, want to come back to the party?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right back up. I'm just gonna freshen up a bit. Maybe change into something more comfortable. You go ahead." I wave him off as he smiles crookedly while headed down the hall. Once the elevator doors close, I turn back to my room with a hand on my forehead. God, what a sap I've become. How soft I've become. It's not a bad thing, no, but it scares me. It scares me just how fast I've melted and how quickly I've come to adore and respect this group of superheroes. Maybe that's why it takes me an hour to get myself together after my conversation with Steve.

With the nightly chill in the air, it makes sense to wear a large sweater and sweats. It makes sense to wear soft socks that mask the sound of my feet sliding across the cool floor. It makes sense to be happy for once. To feel wanted. To have everything I've dreamt of. Friends. Family. Something that feels distinctly like...purpose...
My fingertips glide over the intricately detailed walls, over the elevator buttons. It feels nice to tilt my head back and breathe. No danger. No worries. No running. Just me in a safe haven, even if it may just be temporary. But for now? It's enough. It's enough to make me smile. Make me laugh to myself. It lifts my spirit in a way I thought had been lost to me long ago.

But damn does it suck for that reality to crash and burn just like the party before me is now.

My initial reaction is shock. The warmth leaves my fingertips and a chill invades my bones like a harsh winter storm. I can't move my feet. It feels like I've been rooted to the spot by that small cry of despair that happiness has once again fled like a captive animal seeking freedom. Yet, just as suddenly as my body shut down, it fires up with adrenaline and an impulse to throw myself into the fray.

I pay no mind to the smashed walls, the overturned furniture, the broken glass, or that distinct smell of an American Fourth of July party -- otherwise known as alcohol and fire smoke. What my eyes are drawn to, however, are the robots bearing the Avenger's seal. A mixture of Iron Man machinery and android-ish features. It's an overwhelming sight if one is unable to filter out the sights and sounds. Yet it takes me seconds to adjust to the curious warfare which has turned this place upside down. And to be honest? I'd almost laughed at the sheer terror on the faces of the Avengers. Oh, how could they ever have thought that the lot of them wouldn't be interrupted? However, the amusement is quick to smolder. If a team of superhumans was showing overt fear...this was something truly horrible. Something had gone very wrong, very quickly.

The sound of shattering glass as one of the robots destroy Tony's alcohol bar draws my attention to the situation at hand. Although, it does pain me to see good drink spilled for no reason. Panicked movement in my periphery catches my eye. A fairly young Korean woman attempting to seek refuge behind a grand piano. Was that Barton's doctor? Light on my feet, I'm quick to make my way to her position. I avoid the conflicts going on around me, my mind focused on one task - get this woman to safety before things got uglier. I take the steps in two's, but find my toes catching the ledge of one of the stairs. I catch myself just as a robot with half of its face melted off barely soars over my head. Despite the grotesque appearance of this particular bot, I recognize it as part of Stark's Iron Legion initiative. It's then that dread finally claws its way into my lungs. Tony is perhaps one of the smartest people on the planet, if not the smartest, and there's no way his coding could've been hacked. No, there is something more dastardly amiss in this battle.

As I shift my attention away from my near-death experience, I find another separate robot standing over the doctor. Its hand is raised to her as if charging a blast. And yet... it suddenly stops its attack. A curious thing, it is, but not something I've time to dwell on on the off chance it once again changes its course of action. I clench my jaw and turn my focus inward. One hand leaves its place on the steps below me and outstretches towards the two. I take a moment to feel the surrounding energy before siphoning it off. My fingers close into a fist as I rotate my hand downward. Energy crackles to life in the air around me as the robot crashes to the floor before I flick my fingers outward, sending it sliding off the platform. Disabled for now.

I pull my feet underneath me and reach out a hand to the doctor as she frightfully skitters my way. Despite seeing what I had just done, she still takes my hand and allows me to escort her down the stairs. Her body tremors as the grip on my hand tightens, her eyes flickering across the room frantically as she draws closer to me. The tenseness of her muscles and the chill I feel on her skin is enough to tell me she's absolutely terrified. Shaken to the core. Staring death in the face will do that to someone. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe and secluded," I whisper to her, doing my best to convey a calm demeanor and brave face. I'd never been trained for a scenario such as this and it'd be foolish of me not to be a little afraid. For once I don't have the answer of how to stop this fight.

I guide us to a quiet corner at the very edge of the room. While keeping an eye on my surroundings, I pull a couch over before turning it to its side. A good barrier against crashing objects. I drape a blanket over her to keep glass from cutting her skin, should something be thrown and shatter. I also give her pillows to use as small shields for her head or face, should she need them. It may not be the most advanced protective gear, but it was better than nothing. "Stay here until the fighting is over or someone comes to get you, okay?" A nod from her is all I need before I'm running headlong back into the chaos.

Unfortunately, my entrance could've been timed better. My reflexes are just fast enough for me to bend over backward, literally, to avoid being hit by Spangles' shield. I turn to see none other than Rogers himself catch it while across the room Clint gives him a curt nod. Oh, if I don't, Murk will definitely chew those two out for nearly costing me my head. A thought for another time though. I swivel one leg behind me in a sidestep while grabbing the shoulders of one of the robots flying past. I sink my nails into the metal as energy washes over my body with sudden heat. I can feel the burn of my irises glowing while shallow waves of pale gold energy roll off my skin like a calm lakeshore. I slam the mechanical suit into the ground while rerouting the energy to the surrounding area, causing lightbulbs nearest to me to blow. With one more robot incapacitated, with one less problem flying around, I seem to be the only one to notice the attempt to break into Stark's lab. Ice invades my blood, causing chills to erupt over my arms.

Loki's scepter.

Well, it's now obviously clear that this attack is not caused by some coding glitch in the suit's programming. No, this was a targeted attack. A bid to seize a weapon which could relieve a person of free will. It was a dangerous weapon which did not belong on this earth, nor the hands of those who were making a play for it. If they were willing to attempt murder and endanger the lives of everybody here, they obviously had nefarious goals. Moreover, if they wanted it...I wanted it more.

I'm halfway across the room, sprinting at top speed towards the lab. A blast barely misses me, thanks to Romanoff, who hides behind one of the pillars with Bruce. She's got a pistol in hand and a scowl on her face. Through the tinted windows, I can detect the heat signature of the robot making his escape with the Scepter. I reach out, ready to siphon the power and leave it as an oversized paperweight on the floor. But one of the final remaining robots must make it it's last order to stop me. With a force I'm unprepared for, it crashes into me, lifts off the ground, and sends me flying back across the room. My back hits one of the planes of glass overlooking the city before it shatters. As I feel weightlessness, my hand reaches out last second and grabs the ledge. Even with the glass digging into my hands, I dare not let go. I do, however, make the mistake of looking over my shoulder at the hundred stories of nothing below me. My socks slip against the glass below me as I fight to find some sort of foothold helplessly.
Glass goes flittering off the edge, over my head, a second before Barton pokes his head over the side. "Help, please." I whisper, eyes wide and filled with panic. He wastes no time grabbing one wrist when Stark too peers over the ledge. The billionaire grabs my other wrist and together the two men pull me back to safety. I can't stop, nor hide, the shake of my body as the glass crunches underneath the three of us.

"Are you okay?" Barton asks, hand on my shoulder as I weakly hold myself up on hands and knees.

"Heights." I whisper weakly, trying to find some sort of control over the threat of passing out from hyperventilation. Barton's hand becomes more firm, causing me to shift my weight so I sit on one of my legs while his arm crosses over both my shoulders, holding me near.

"It's alright, you're fine." I nod, knowing that I am in fact still okay and alive, but fight the inner demons that taunt me of my weakness. I reach out towards Tony with my opposite hand, which he takes. I give it a good squeeze and look him in the eye.

"Thank you, Stark."

"Tony."

"Tony." I repeat as I let his hand go. He's the first to get up and return to the electric ramblings of one of his creations on the other side of the room. Clint and I follow suit seconds later once I've regained some of my composure. It feels like that fight lasted half an hour, but a quick peek at a clock reveals it took less than five minutes for such destruction to take place. Just as suddenly as the fight seems to have begun, it ends with Thor using his trusty hammer to demolish the final ragged robot standing.