The Inverse Affect - An Erin Stark Story

Episode 1

"Rumlow was reportedly spotted in Lagos, prepping to steal some type of bio-weapon. Suit up, we leave in 5," Cap's voice blasts throughout the compound. 

A quiet sigh pushes past my lips as I unwrap my hands from their bloodied wraps, the white punching bag in front of me looking much the same. Looking down at my battered and bruised hands, I watch as they are ever so slightly dull in colour, a soft purple wrapping around them similar to the wraps stained with scarlet.

Out of the corner of my eye, a whiz of blue passes by me. The ghost of a smirk etches into my face as I follow it until it becomes solid, Pietro's face smirking back at me. 

"How is it that you look so gorgeous even covered in blood?" he says, his accent thick with lust. 

"Possibly because that's the only way you saw me for years," 

"Or because you are just beautiful,"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Speedy," 

"It could get you into my bed tonight," 

With a scoff, I float my bag towards me and glare playfully at him. 

"You wish,"

He simply shakes his head, taking a few slow steps towards me, his hands finding their place on the bony ends of my hips. Leaning down, his lips join mine, two smirks melding into the motion. One arm twirls its way around his neck, a shaking hand vibrating against his neck. Without notice, I pull away, my smirk gone, and my gaze to the ground, a silent curse follows through my head. 

"That was a few seconds longer than last time," 

I return his reassurance with silence. Taking a few steps back, I fade through a nearby wall and into the elevator. Hitting the corresponding number to my room, I pull the super glue out of my bag, gluing shut some of the wounds on my hands. Scars cover scars at this point, some self-inflicted, some not. Leaning my head against the chilled walls of the elevator, I force my hands open. The glue needs time to set, it can't do that with clenched fists. 

Just in time, the elevator bell alerts me to the open doors. Quickly, I disappear into my room, suiting up fast and grabbing what little weapons I need. One look out of my window and I see the team gathering around the Quinjet. 

Focusing on my entire body, I fade through the window, falling to the Earth below me as if I was walking on air. Clenching my fists tightly, the gravity around me lessens, letting me float onto the ground before everything returns to normal. 

"Typical Stark," Rogers says from the group.

"What's a Stark without a little flare?" I reply with a smirk, Wanda's arm wrapping around me as I enter the group. 

Rogers simply smirks, his head shaking before a hologram appears in the middle of the group. 

"Here's the plan..."

The young girl continues to stare off into space, Wanda pacing around exasperatedly with the occasional hand brushing against her apron. 

"Erin!" 

The Stark snaps out of her daydream, readjusting the large curls that crowd her ears as her other hand floats to the largest one at the top of her head. A comically large smile forces its way onto her face as she looks at her black and white friend in front of her. 

"Wanda, dear, you're worrying yourself into a tizzy! That can't be good for your complexion." 

Laugh tracks echo through the room. 

"Well, I wouldn't have to worry if I knew what was happening today!" Wanda exclaims. 

"Could it possibly be an anniversary?" 

"But an anniversary of what?"

"Your first kiss? Your first date? Your first..."

Wanda gasps at the insinuation but a small gray blush creeps its way onto her white complexion. Erin giggles in return as laugh tracks echo through the room. She stands and gently takes Wanda's hands in hers. 

"Why don't you invite your lovely neighbour over? She's been married for ages and I'm sure she can be of better help than single old me." Erin reassures. 

A knock can be heard from the front door, causing the girls to jump in surprise. Laugh tracks echo through the room. 

Erin walks up the small stack of stairs and opens the door, a feminine gasp forcing out of her as a scarred hand covers her chest. 

"Well speaking of the devil!" she exclaims. 

Agnes walks through the archway, another comically large smile etching onto her face as skinny arms wrap around the Stark girl. Erin squeezes Agnes back tight, small fists being made on her back. With a snap, Agnes pulls away.

"Well, what are the chances of seeing you here with the new neighbour!" 

"Oh my, I've known Wanda for years. I guess you could say we grew up together," Erin explains with another forced smile. 

"You and Wanda, huh? What an unlikely pair!" Agnes says as she walks down the steps, into the living room. "Now I heard we were having some anniversary issues!" 

"Why, yes, she is! You're the best in this department. I'll let the married ladies talk, I have a few errands to run. Good luck tonight, Wanda!" Erin says as she picks up her unreasonably large purse. 

"Thank you! And I expect to see you again here tomorrow too!" Wanda replies with a smile and wave. 

The young girl exits the black and white home, closing the door with the flick of her wrist. As she turns to cross the street, she comes face to face with a passerby. A black goatee covers his face, aviators hiding his eyes from her. 

Erin freezes, the pained screams of her father playing like one of Vision's broken records.  A red suit, a blade through his chest. The gauntlet on her hand. She once again gets lost in empty space, her grip on her purse tightening further and further.

"Miss?" 

The girl returns to the reality, a large smile forcing its way onto her face again. 

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm quite alright. I guess I got a little distracted! Silly me," she replies, walking away from the man with structured grace. 

A few steps away and she stops. Turning back to the man, she holds a hand out, the vibrant purple standing out against the black and white canvas. He screams but Erin only sighs, quickly pulling him close to her. 

"Hush, now. Afraid of little old me? Well, that's not very masculine of you," 

With another shade of purple bouncing along with the pale palette on the screen, Erin hurls the man down the street, keeping pressure on his chest until his presence is no longer. With a subtle wipe against her skirts, she walks through the small suburbs to her quaint home.