Maya

Waiting is torture.

I'm sitting in the corner of some office. It feels ridiculous but Fury took my phone and comms away for security reasons. Pietro bought me doughnuts and I'm not sure exactly where he got them from but I'm not complaining.

Vision and Pietro are playing chess while Wanda watches lazily. They were supposed to keep me company but Pietro wanted to play speed chess with Vision.

That seemed unfair because Vision is literally a computer.

I swipe away vanilla frosting from the corner of my lip.

Fury sent out three teams. I'm not sure where they are or what they're doing but I know the targets that they've been tasked to retrieve.

The young girl—Safia—had the coordinates for the rest of my siblings. Names, location, and even their ages.

Fury didn't reveal any details to me. He purposefully kept me off the missions due to 'emotional interference.' Nat couldn't slip me information even if she could.

I can hear Bucky and Steve talking outside.

It takes all my might to stop my foot from bouncing.

Anxiety ain't new to me.

I'm fucked in the head. Years ago my mind was a rat made with twists, turns, and paths that lead nowhere and everywhere. Dr. Franz has helped with untangling that mess but those scars are lingering.

They'll never really fade. I just have to live with it.

Over the years Dr Franz and I have found ways to mitigate it. I can live with myself most of the time. Of course, there are days when I feel like I'm a waste of space and I would be better off dead.

Thankfully those days are few and far in between.

Self-loathing and I are great friends. BFF's if you will.

The thought of these kids being so screwed up terrifies me.

I wonder if they had family that loved them. Did they miss them or did they happily give them away to Raza? My mother had done her best to fight for me when Raza took me away. Hell, she pressured Fury of all people into helping me take down the Anwar clan...her own husband, her own children.

I don't know how to take care of kids.

I don't even know if I like kids.

Clint has a few kids of his own. I didn't mind them when I visited their cabin for Christmas last year. Heck, I enjoy shooting arrows with his daughter and babysitting his younger kids while he and his wife go to the Christmas market.

This is different.

There's a chance that I'm the only one who can guide them through their powers.

I still remember when I got my powers. The anger, the fear, and the disgust I held for myself when I hurt my mother by accident.

It's overwhelming.

Wanda notices my melancholy. She doesn't have to read my mind to know that I'm freaking out.

Her cold hand touches mine. "What is it?"

I smile but it feels tight across my face. "I'm planning my next step."  My gaze flickers over to Pierre and Vision who are entrenched in their chess game. "After we get them back safe, I have no idea what I'm going to do with them. Do I help them? Do they even want my help?"

"You know," she starts. "When Pietro and I were children we used to watch American cartoons. It was something our family loved to do together. It was nonsensical and I didn't get why it brought us joy. I just knew that I felt happier with my family around me."

"I always did peg you for a Scooby Doo fan."

"I have better taste."

"Scooby Doo is peak television."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't change the subject, Maya."

I give her an innocent look, fluttering my eyes at her. "Who? Me?"

"You know what I mean." She pulls her hand away. "Sometimes being there is enough."

I open my mouth to say something just as the door swings in. Nat walks in, her hair wet from the rain. She has her suit on which means she was in one of the teams that were sent out.

I stand up, my knee nearly knocking over the box of doughnuts.

Wanda squeezed my shoulder. Pietro and Vision pause their game of speed chess.

"What happened?" I asked.

Nat's face is unreadable. I admire her ability to keep a passive face but right now my heart is in my throat. And I need some sort of answer.

"We got them," she said finally. "Dr Franz is down below assessing them. You need to come with us."

—

I'm not nervous.

I'm not.

I'm just having a minor freak-out. No big deal. Dr Franz and I have prepared for this.

Dr Franz and Fury are talking to each other in hushed tones. Neither looks particularly happy.

I'm about to make a lot worse for them.

I can feel them. Their heartbeats are loud and frantic, each pump of their hearts is full of fear. I should feel nothing, I hardly know them but something in me feels like a monster shaking off its chains.

"Where are they?" I growl. I don't intend to sound so harsh but I can't help it. "Someone answer me or I'll set something on fire."

Dr Franz steps forward. "Maya, how wonderful to see you."

"Likewise, Doc. Now, care to explain?"

"It's standard procedure," Fury answers. "We're just assessing them."

"They're children." I hiss.

"Enhanced children."

"Still children nonetheless."

I feel Nat press her palm against the small of my back. She's barely moved and I'm certain nobody has noticed.

"Fine," I say, forming my hands into first. It's all so bloody unfair. "Just take me to them. Please."

The kids are in four different rooms. Each of them has cameras so that we can listen in.  Four equally large monitors are set up in a room down the hall, showing each of them.

It feels so wrong.

Enhanced or not, they deserve better.

The first monitor shows the eldest one—Safia. She leans back in her chair balancing it precariously as she rests her legs on the table. Her hair is less messy, pressing into a bun. Her vivid green eyes find the camera, glaring and challenging.

The second one shows a young boy. His dark brown hair sticks up messily. He sits quietly, twiddling his thumbs and stares down into his lap as if he's thinking hard about something. I can't gauge anything from him.

The third one is another girl. Young, probably ten or eleven. Her hair is bright blonde. She picks up a crayon and draws, occasionally darting her eyes cautiously around the room before returning to her work.

The fourth and last one is a boy. The youngest of them. His dark brown locks lay flat on his head like a mop. He picks up a ball and bounces it, his eyes following its movement. He laughs at himself, picks it up and does it all over again.

Fury refuses to let me in. He and I sit behind the monitor. The rest of the Avengers sit behind us, each of them watching the screens intently.

"We can leave if you want us to," Bucky offers, placing his hand on my shoulder.

I lean back, smiling. "Stay."

He and Nat exchange glances before he leans back in his chair and nods.

I look forward again, fiddling with the bracelet on my wrist. It was silver, easy to bend and had a single ruby charm that my mother had gifted me on my birthday.

I waited as the door on the first monitor swung open.

Dr Franz would be the one to conduct the evaluations.

Safia was still in the same position. Except this time she wasn't staring into the camera, she was looking towards the door.

Dr Franz walked in a moment later, closing the heavy metal door behind him.

"Hello, Safia." He said, pushing her feet off the table with his clipboard. "Shall we get started?"