The Archangel (Avengers Fanfic)

Chapter Three

I could tell they were all looking my way when he said that, and I got the distinct impression that they didn't believe him. But he was possibly the only person alive that knew how to awaken me. "If it was alive, it would be dead with everything I've done to try and get inside it's processing unit." Key word was try, he hadn't been successful in any way, shape, or form.

"No Stark, in this form she's practically indestructible, that's why you haven't been able to so much as scratch her." Bucky was trying to convince him but the only thing that would actually work was if he woke me up but that thought must not have occurred to him yet. Then finally, he commanded, "Archangel, awaken." As a former asset of Hydra, he knew the commands, at least the ones that Hydra had allowed him to know if we were to go on assignment together.

My eyes flashed open as I woke from my sleep. Finally I was able to see the people who I could feel, most looked surprised but Tony still looked doubtful. "So it responds to voice commands, huh? Guess I hadn't tried that." He put his fist up to his lips in a thinking position, "Archangel, open your processing unit."

I ignored him, eyes solely focused on Bucky. I hesitated, he looked different, not happy exactly, but getting there. It was clear he was not the same man he was as an asset. "Hydra is dead, you are free from any commands they have given you." He was wrong, him commanding me to wake and it working was proof enough of that, and his lies enraged me.

I stepped forward, out of my sleeping pose and narrowed my eyes at him, addressing him as if we were the only ones in the room, "that is where you are wrong, Winter Soldier, Hydra may be gone but I will never be free." I could feel the electricity put pressure on my skull as I defied a previous order. I drew up to my full stature, both feeling and hearing the cracking of my vertebrae as I did, and stretched my wings out to their full length, the sharp edges slicing through the metal of something or other like butter, I didn't care enough to look at what I had damaged.

I knew I was intimidating and I could feel the others taking in just how dangerous I was. I took another step towards Bucky, fully intending on causing him pain, but instead folding over and clutching the back of my neck as burning pain zapped across my nervous system to every inch of my body. Do not harm anyone from Hydra, echoed in my head, but surely it didn't apply to rogue assets, right? Apparently not or I wouldn't be feeling this type of pain right now.

I could hear their concerned voices like far off muttering as I tried to shake off the pain. Numerous times I had tried to simply yank the thing off my spine but it never worked, only causing more pain, it didn't matter, I tried it again anyway, even knowing I couldn't take it off. It forced me to my knees as I fought the pain, trying to yank the thing off. Voices filtered into my mind, "What the hell?"—"Its hurting her!"—"We have to get it off!"

I could faintly feel them approaching, but as soon as one touched the device I went off like a rocket, unable to stop my arms and wings from lashing out at them as they wrestled me to the ground, pinning my wings, and pried the device from my back. It was an order, the first and most important, and I couldn't prevent my body from following it. I was not in control of my body as they held me down and removed it, but the instant they did, my body collapsed, unmoving, though I fought to remain conscious, I couldn't stop it. I knew I would be vulnerable when they took it off, but I didn't expect the itch of my body returning to flesh as blackness danced around my vision and I finally passed out.

***

This was the first time I had properly slept in the past fifty years, I guess I was just dormant instead of sleeping and man did actual sleep feel like heaven. Was I on a cloud? I had to be, I had never been on something this comfortable before. I stretched myself out then curled into the cocoon I had created with my wings, enjoying the heat that I trapped there with my soft feathers. Wait, that wasn't right, my wings weren't soft when I was metal.

I shot awake, instantly turning myself to metal when I didn't recognize my surroundings. Where the hell was I? I thought. What the hell had happened? Why did I wake up in flesh instead of metal? For the first time ever, I didn't have orders dancing around in my head when I woke up, it was just my thoughts, which brought up a whole other slew of questions. I was hoping some answer would come to mind but they never did. Maybe I should find someone informed on these matters.

Reluctantly, I got out of the queen bed, and opened the door into a long corridor. I pulled my wings in tight to my back so that I could fit through the doorway and made my way down toward the lounge area. Tony was leaning against a wall, throwing an apple into the air and catching it repeatedly, most others sat around chatting though Bucky was the only one who appeared alert with his back facing the wall, quite a few of them looked injured in some way. But I didn't give anyone a second glance as my eyes locked onto that apple, red as blood, juicy and plump, and slightly larger than the size of my fist, it had to be the most tantalizing apple I had ever seen, my mouth was watering just looking at it.

I could feel myself shifting into flesh, my earlier wariness forgotten as I snatched the apple out of the air and sank my teeth into it. Tony started to protest but I ignored him, the apple was so worth his ire. I groaned as the sweetness flooded my tastebuds, a little bit of juice dribbling down my chin. My eyes fluttered open as I finished off the bite, finding everyone in attendance watching me. "Apologies, this is the first thing I've eaten in over a decade." I took another bite and swallowed, "and this is a really good apple."

"Excuse me, table manners, that was mine—" Tony started.

I cut him off, "and now it's not." I quickly finished off the apple and flicked the stem at Tony. "Got any more food? I'm starving." No body answered, "You know what, I'll find it myself." I walked into a kitchen area off to the side and rummaged around in the fridge. Finding a container of what appeared to be orange juice, I unscrewed the cap, and drained half of it before putting it back and rummaging around for more. "Jackpot!" I exclaimed as I found a stash of waffles.

I set it to cook in the toaster while I found the toppings I liked to put on them, peanut butter and chocolate chips. Once I had put everything together how I liked, I ate the waffle and everything on it like I would a piece of toast, and man did that waffle taste good. I felt eyes on me and raised an eyebrow at the people in the lounge, they had no right to judge my taste in food.

A woman with striking red hair was watching me warily, "aren't you supposed to be made out of metal?" I guess that could also be why they were staring.

"Only when I want to." I responded, my wings ruffling behind me as I settled them in a more comfortable position. "Hydra really does have no taste in style though. I mean, look at this color," I shifted into metal for a minute and examined my hands, "just blegh. Good thing I'm not stuck with it like he is." I gestured at Bucky's arm, grumbling, "though you somehow pull it off, which actually pisses me off a bit but whatever."

I started cleaning up after myself, but when I got to the butter knife, I couldn't help myself. I threw it offhandedly towards Bucky and he managed to catch it with his metal arm before it could hit him. "What the hell, are you trying to kill me or what?"

"Maybe a little bit," I shrugged. I felt the knife slicing through the air back toward me. I turned and caught it with two fingers and crumpled the blade into an odd and twisted shape with my fist. "And if you're gonna return the favor, you're gonna have to try harder than that."

Tony threw his arms up in exasperation, "That was my favorite knife!" I shrugged as I returned to flesh, unbothered by his look of outrage.

"He said your name was Archangel, yes?" That was Cap speaking, "what's your real name?"

"Real name? I don't have one. Or if I did, it was so long ago that I don't remember it. I've been addressed only as Archangel for the past seventy years or so."

"How long have you been with Hydra? How old are you?"

I pondered his question, "I can remember to back when I was sixteen and nothing before that, that was 1947, every day since then I've been with Hydra. So doing the math, I'm 85 at least, maybe 90, depending on the year." I sighed, "this conversation is boring me, so unless anyone covets shrapnel wounds, I'm going outside to get rid of this," I said in disgust, "paint."