Simon Lewis and The Avengers

Pancakes and Video games

"Magnus! Stop moping and pick up your bloody phone!" Simon hissed into the Avengers' phone. He was met with the pre-recorded message of his friend, "Please leave your name, number, and nightmare at the tone."

"Magnus, I'm sure you weren't looking for me, but I'm fine. I'll be with the Avengers for a while." Simon pulled his phone away from his ear, and added, "And leave the house, your apartment is going to give you take-away poisoning." He handed the phone back to the famous Tony Stark.

"Out of curiosity, who was that?"

"A friend. We were about to move in together to split the rent." Simon replied.

"Huh. Explains the full bag." Tony gestured to the small camping bag on Simon's back. "You want to see your room?"

"Might as well." Simon signalled for him to lead the way. They twisted a few corridors, each lined with 'state of the art' comical portraits of Ironman. Eventually they came across an empty room, the back wall entirely made of glass as to emphasize the view of the waking city of New York against the rising sun.

"Now, if you were a vampire, that would have been a problem." Tony snorted. Simon smiled back, "You're telling me. I understand you guys have seen some pretty weird things, but vampires are too cliché to exist." Simon felt silly trying to convince Tony a lie. Surely his great mind could tell.

"Yeah. I'm sure your file will be cleared in no time. You're a good kid, its a shame you got caught up in all this." Tony was about to leave, and caught himself "If you need anything, just ask the AI, JARVIS." Tony looked and pointed up. "At your service, sir." Cool.

Simon sat himself sown on the king bed, man, Stark is rich. "Thanks." Tony nodded and left. Simon reached for his bag, counting the bottles of blood. Three. He took a swig of one.

Initially, he'd only taken enough for a few days and then Magnus would get him more when he was forced to leave the apartment. He would have to ration them.

---

The next morning, or rather later that morning, Simon woke up. As a test, Simon spoke to the ceiling,

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir."

"Am I allowed to leave?"

"I'm under strict orders to not let you vacate the premises. Mr Stark informs me to invite you to breakfast."

"Thanks." Simon kicked his backpack under the bed slightly, careful not to break the glass canisters of blood.

Following JARVIS' directions, Simon made his way to the kitchen. He met one of them along the way - Clint Barton, he said his name was.

"Heading to the kitchen?" Clint asked in the lift.

"Yeah." Simon replied. "Since I'm not allowed to leave, I figured outside my room is the closest I could get to actual outside."

"Sorry man, I'm sure your file will be cleared soon enough." Hawkeye smiled encouragingly, "Until then, we could play video games..."

"No way! You play? I haven't played since I lived with my mum." Simon's eyebrows rose. That wasn't necessarily true, he'd played with Jordan when he was alive. But he didn't bring that up for both their sakes- it wouldn't do any good.

"You don't have to answer, but what is your deal with your mum?" Clint tested the waters.

"I did bad things, my grades dropped. You know what family's like." Simon kept his voice level.

"I get that, I do, but she seemed really pissed."

"Like I said, she's on medication and very religious. Those two don't combine well." Simon tried to be as convincing as possible. Either Clint was just curious or he was gathering information for the camera in the corner of the elevator. Simon remembered what Fury had said before, Questioning can continue tomorrow, however nothing was mentioned by JARVIS and Clint recommended video gaming all day.

Simon wasn't about to give it away though, letting the avengers think they had the upper hand could be useful.

"Sorry." Clint said and the lift dinged to a stand-still.

The smell of pancakes wafted from the stove. It made his stomach curl in disgust and longing.

"You want one?" Bruce held up a pan. Who knew that the hulk could cook.

"Not hungry." Simon said plainly, standing awkwardly by the counter.

"Its not poisoned." Tony walked from the small coffee table in front of the TV, holding a plate out to Simon.

"Its not that."

"You lost blood yesterday. You need to eat." Natasha called from the couch.

"I rested, I'm fine now."

"What is it with men, can't accept help." She was interrupted by an *Ahem* from pretty much every man in the room, looking at her offended. She shrugged, she wasn't wrong. "Eat."

Simon picked up a blue scotch pancake and looked at it, partially wanting to eat it, partially not wanting the consequences. Everyone was watching so he took a bite, faking an expression of amazement.

"You alright?" Bruce asked, after smiling at Simon's gratitude.

"Yep." Simon said through a mouthful, he knew he would throw it up later. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your very pale. Vampire-like." Bruce grinned at the irony.

"Don't get the wrong idea. I'm a nerd, we don't like natural sources of light." Simon gestured to his, now Doctor Who, shirt.

"I'll give you a check up later, just in case."