HADES // T. STARK DAUGHTER // MARVEL I.I

11 ~ SHIELD ~ 11

The same brown eyes. The same buzzed hair. The same smile. But . . . not bad. Not like the boy who had been haunting me for months. He was . . . my Harry.

It had been hours since that moment, that scary, awful moment. I sat in the corner of a van, my knees pulled up to my chest, my hands shaking. I felt past the point of exhaustion, numbed. And across from me, was him. He was older, less . . . angry. Right now, just as we had been for hours, we were sitting across each other in the van, just staring at each other. His jacket- not that ratty green sweatshirt I always imagined him is, instead a black one meant for the harsh cold of winter- was draped over me, but it did little to stop my shaking.

Because Harry was actually here. He had actually saved me. And now, we were sitting in a weird shadow-governments van, having a stare-off. After another minute, I shifted, moving to scratch at the dried blood stuck to my face. I couldn't remember who it was from. But now, I had blood on my face. And my hands. And my clothes. And only some of it was mine.

Harry shuffled slightly, carefully, leaning forward. I pressed myself further into the wall, simply staring as he stopped inches from me. "Harley. Say something. Please."

I tugged on the short pieces of my hair, hesitant. The last time I talked, I was screaming at a dilution of my brother as a teenager, screaming for someone to just kill me already. I thought I was next. I didn't want to sit and wait for it. But now, I was alive. And it was Harry who had found me. Not Dad, not Uncle Rhodey, or even Happy. It was Harry. "How-How did you find me?"

I saw him relax, a near smile on his face. "It took too long, I'm sorry. After we found the-"

"Why now?" I questioned, staring at the boy-turned-agent.

Harry furrowed his brow, in a way that was scarily similar to mine. "We found you as they were-"

"No. Why now? I was nine. And you just . . . left. You left me. So, why did you come back now?"

Harry stared at me, his eyes wide and his face set in a saddened frown. I just didn't understand. Harry hated me. He left me. He didn't care. Yet, here he was.

We fell back into silence for the rest of the ride.

**

After that morbidly long ride in that van, we pulled up to a plane. I stared at it for a moment- I used to go on plane rides all the time. With Dad. And now, I couldn't remember what the Stark Industries jets looked like, what color the seats were, what the name of our pilot was. It hurt. Even though I had left Hydra- holy fucking crap, I had left Hydra -my mind was still fuzzy, the details and thoughts slurred.

I hated it.

But I just bit my lip and followed the small fleet of armed men onto the large aircraft. I hesitantly continued walking as guards split off, nearly all of them going towards a small hallway to the left. But, it was only when we reached a conference room that the rest of the agents left, except Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off of me since he first saw me. I was hesitant to enter the room, but keeping up my expression of neutrality, I strode inside, sitting in the closest chair facing the door, as much away from Harry as I could be.

One other person was inside the room, a man with one-eyes and a blank expression that rivaled mine. "Harley Ray Stark, glad we've found you."

I evaluated my options, scanning the room. No windows, one door, two men against me. I still felt drained from whatever the hell I had done in that cell, and I probably couldn't do it again without passing out afterward. I finally, leaned back, resting my arms on the chair, balancing one leg over my other knee. "This is Shield?"

"You know about us?" It was Harry who had questioned me, but he soon sat back as the new man gave him a look I couldn't identify.

"I . . . Blyad,'" (fuck) I quietly cursed, my brain buzzing. I knew that name, this was some spy agency. But, I couldn't remember how I knew. "Uh, vaguely."

The one-eyed man nodded, sliding over a file. "This is everything we know about your abduction. We've been looking for you since the night you were taken."

I stared at the manila folder for a moment before glancing back at the man. "Who are you?'

"Director Fury. And I'm guessing you remember Agent Wilx?"

I stared at Harry, at the bags under his eyes that I knew matched mine, the scars on him, some new, some old. "He's just a stranger to me."