Prisoner Of The Spandexians (Leo Valdez Meets The Avengers)

The Death Of The Punching Bags

I walked into a training room. I sighed and started punching the nearest punching bag. I felt my fists catch fire, soon it was smoldering ashes that fluttered around me. Like monster dust, but less gross and more pretty.

I continued to destroy every punching bag in the room, even the dozens on the wall.

"Ahem" a voice came from the other end of the room.

"Yes Tony?" I asked.

He gulped, "I'm sorry. I was just shocked by your age. I didn't know."

I felt my fury diminish. I sighed and turned around, "I just am frustrated because all people ever focus on is ages. Where I come from, age doesn't matter, experience does. At least I thought it did. I saved the world, died in the process and had to have my mechanical dragon save me. When I came back I was still the outcast. It was just like something one of my enemies told me: I will never find a place among my brethren. I will always and forevermore be the seventh wheel. After a war, saving the world, nearly working myself to death to build a flying warship, and flying that same warship with my so called friends, I was still left out. I wound up faking my death, just so I could escape to find a less hurtful life. Then I was hunted by you guys, heroes which I had never heard of, and got my tool belt which had a picture of me and mother who died in a fire I accidentally started when I was little and was threatened by an earth Primordial, not to mention was given to me by my friend and savior - an  artificially intelligent metal dragon - who was accidentally destroyed by some friends after a prank gone wrong. I only am here because I'd rather have luxury and do something I've done before than go to jail for doing nothing wrong. I've lost everything and everyone."

I saw his face turn compassionate and respectful before he starts to speak softly, "look kid, here most of us got a dark past and we look after one another. We're a little family. You need a bud, you've come to the right place. Now come on! We've got pizza upstairs!"

I followed him to a kitchen. Seeing the mad dash towards the pizza, I slipped under Steve, Tony, and Bruce's arms, and grabbed 5 slices of pizza. I offered 3 pieces to Natasha. She looked impressed.

"Thank you, but how'd you do that?" She asked. All the boys turned to me.

"How'd he to what?" Tony asked.

"I used to go to a camp. It always had over 200 kids fighting for pizza. You learn a thing or two." I said. Tony looked at my plate, and laughed.

"There's nothing there!" He shouted.

"Another thing about camp, you learn to eat fast - or your food gets stolen!" I said with a smile.

"Really?" Tony asked, "how come no one saw you with the supposed pizza?"

"I saw him." Natasha said, smirking, "in fact he had five slices and gave me three pieces then I asked him how he got the five slices out of the dog pile."

Tony turned to me in amazement, "you never seem to stop impressing me kid."

"Not a kid." I grumbled. Everyone laughed.