Just Him&I: In Universe of Cruelty

Part 33

"When I wished you tears and torment,
And the most dreadful punishment,
I wouldn't have twisted your delicate hands
Nor kept you in a gloomy dungeon..."
(Vasyl Symonenko)

— So you're saying it's from your mother? — Stark took off his gloves and tossed them into the trash can nearby. In this lab-workshop, the atmosphere was so magnetic it pulled you in from several meters away. I absolutely loved how everything was arranged here. Upon entering the lab, you find yourself in a skating rink of science and technology. Experimental tables are overflowing with devices and prototypes that almost magically transform ideas into reality. All around the room, high-tech machines are set up, while computer screens display streams of data and calculations. Behind a wall, in the arsenal, inventions await to protect the world from any threats. I carefully watched as Stark handed the vial with my fresh blood to Banner. Crimson-red blood still slid from side to side inside the vial.

— Yeah. Mm, she had a gift for telepathy, but not innate — it came from a serum that she was voluntarily injected with. I don't know exactly how old she was, but I was definitely born when the serum was already in her. — Stark listened carefully, taking notes on a screen. I slowly lowered my head, inhaling through my nose. I didn't know what to expect or how to react to any of this. I glanced down at the fresh bandage stuck over the punctured vein. I pressed my lips into a thin line and glanced at James and Steve, who stood aside talking quietly. I caught frequent glances from Bucky, who was probably checking to make sure I wasn't being harmed, and simply nodded in return.

— You three can go to the briefing room. We'll be there in about twenty minutes — by then, the tests and conclusions will be ready. — I silently rose from the chair and walked out, grabbing my bomber jacket on the way.

— Thanks, Stark! — Steve thanked him. Tony rubbed the bridge of his nose and silently watched us with an emotionless gaze. Although I know those two don't get along very well — at least from James' stories — I didn't feel any tension between them. I think I'll learn a lot more, at least from Natasha's stories — she knows everything about everyone.

— So, a telepath...? — Steve asked uncertainly, walking beside me. I leaned into James, who wrapped his arm around my shoulders. Black jeans, boots, turtleneck — but without the neck. A perfect choice, and I really liked it. It was hard to take my eyes off him. But I forced myself to, or else it would look like I was some kind of silly fangirl.

— The gift of telepathy allows a person to receive, send, and interpret thoughts, emotions, and other mental information without using ordinary means of communication like language or gesture. It can include sensing emotions, images, ideas, and even subconscious thoughts of others. A person with such a gift can interact with others on a level inaccessible to most, and use this knowledge for various purposes — from speechless communication to perceiving information hidden from others. — I laid it all out plainly. It was the result of hours of research and digging into this topic and looking for people like me. The information was simplified and shortened many times over, capturing the most important parts. I closed my eyes, inhaling the familiar, pleasant scent of cologne. James confidently led me as we entered the elevator.

— Whoa, I don't even know what to say — he was clearly surprised by what I said, and it seemed like he was encountering this for the first time in his life. Although, considering his full history, maybe it didn't surprise him all that much.

— I wouldn't even be interested in this, to be honest. If I didn't know this was about me. — I looked at the floor, wondering what else I could say. I slowly ran my fingers over my thin fingertips.

— You guys have a girl, she's a witch. I read she can get inside people's heads — what's her name. Scarlet... Scarlet... — I snapped my fingers trying to remember the name of that woman. I clearly remembered her reddish-brown hair. I darted my eyes over the elevator buttons.

— Scarlet Witch — Steve helped me and I nodded in agreement. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and we stepped out of the elevator, walking down long hallways I remembered very well.

— She messed around in your heads pretty well, back when it was Ultron — James said to Steve as he walked into the room. It was empty, so I calmly and relaxedly approached and sat at the table, which stretched across almost the entire room. When you enter the Avengers' briefing room, the first thing you notice is the security. The doors are protected by biometric access and electronic cards to ensure secure entry. Inside, the walls are lined with screens displaying current situations, mission maps, analytical data, and video feeds from active zones. The furniture is comfortable for long meetings and discussions, and the communication equipment ensures continuous contact with other agents and command. This is where missions are planned, information analyzed, and strategic decisions made — always ready for any challenges that might come their way. The air is filled with the scent of metal, weapons, and gunpowder that soaked into all the furniture.

— I need to go park the car. I didn't think we'd be here this long. Will you wait? — James looked at his watch, furrowing his brows and then looked at me, relaxing his facial muscles slightly.

— Of course — I smiled at him understandingly and he quickly ran out. I rubbed my temples — I had a bit of a headache today and it was getting worse by the second, but I showed no sign of it.
When Steve sat down across from me, I finally dared to confess that I had, almost rudely and unintentionally, entered his mind and saw his memory. Even though it wasn't anything secret or deeply personal. But it was his, and I wasn't supposed to see it.

— I wanted to tell you something... — I looked into his blue eyes, which were much lighter and clearer than Bucky's. I studied his face and noticed small wrinkles spread across it — most likely from exhaustion.

— I'm listening — he rubbed the back of his neck and blinked a few times, trying skeptically to guess where I was going with this. Silence fell in the room — so quiet I could hear his breathing.

— When we were in the hospital and I went outside for a walk. I think you grabbed my hand and I saw your memory. You and James playing outside. I wanted to apologize for that! — I shamefully lowered my head, picking at the table with a fingernail, and then raised my eyes to him again. He smiled warmly. His facial features were defined: straight nose, square jaw, and raised expressive eyebrows that emphasized his confidence and determination.

— I'm not mad. You can't really control it. And it was just a childhood memory, nothing more. Wanda did worse — inducing hallucinations. Scarlet Witch — he added, just to be sure I knew who he was talking about. I, in turn, felt a sense of peace, having confessed basically all my sins. Though Natasha still doesn't know I also peeked into her mind.

— But you said telepath — that's reading thoughts. Then how did you see my memory through touch? — he leaned back in interest, resting his head on his hand.

— I think it's because I'm the child of a telepath. My dad didn't have any physical alterations. It's like breeding two different species to create a new one. In this case, I am that new kind. — Stark entered the room and we both turned toward him.