Just myself

Chapter Five - Badasses in Leather

The points one finger at a man, sat on a chair in the corner of the outer room. Everything about him exudes confidence. His legs are crossed, back stick-straight and, in one hand, he holds a drink of, what looks like, scotch. He stands as we notice him, meandering over to the glass.

"Can I getcha a drink?" He asks in his American lilt that we hear almost daily on Tv. "Daisy, lovely to see you, lookin' good."

"I'll take that drink." I reply, a sudden burst of confidence flooding my systems.

"Are you gonna destroy me if I let you out?" He asks, hand poised over the keypad.

"I can't promise that." He lets me out despite my quip and hands me a glass the same as his. Daisy tries to protest but before she can, I am out of that god forsaken cage, only into a slightly bigger one but it's an improvement all the same. I stand just outside of it and my voice grows bolder as I say "Why, praytell, is Tony Stark stood outside my cage, offering me alcohol and a job?" as I sit on the chair beside him.

"Because, Doctor, I do what I want and what I want is to take unnecessary risks for people that I don't know to make up for my shitty childhood." He replies with a deadpan expression. 

"Are you joking or...? And who's the doctor?" I ask, taking a sip of the biting Scotch and staring at him with a look that may have been described as 'Disturbing'.

"All you need to know is he's cool and only partly..." He stares back with an identical look. "Anywho, I need to know how willing you are to cooperate."

"I'm sat on a chair, drinking scotch with you and, honestly, I just try to avoid anything that will stop me from doing absolutely nothing so, you make your inferences." I lean back in my chair, now more comfortable with the millionaire.

He barks out a hearty laugh and chokes "I have never related to anything more in my life."

It takes him maybe five minutes to calm down but in that time, I get to analyse him more. He must be a happy man because he has the marks of crows in the corners of his eyes but on his forehead are the marks of worry. His clothes, outwardly, imply professionalism but, underneath, he wears a shirt that says 'Ah! The element of surprise'. I can tell that, although he may pretend, he is a lighthearted man, more childlike that he knows.

"It really wasn't that funny." I state, taking another sip of my scotch.

"You just reminded me of a friend. Anyway, would you be open to a job?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well, the alternative is be stuck in this room for the rest of your life so I think you'd be pretty open-minded."

"You know me well."

"So?"

"Keep talking, pretty boy." I say as I cross one leg over the other and preparing myself for the inevitable spiel about superheroes. It comes, as I knew it would, but buried within the spiel is a message about heroes that hit me really hard. He said "We aren't ever safe. That much is true. Human beings are never as safe as they believe themselves to be but they maintain a faith in the few that can save them that has kept us alive for this long. When I walk through the streets I am met with gratitude from every angle but that is because they have faith in me. I know for a fact that you were there during the battle of New York, we have footage of you helping families from the rubble but you also looked terrified. You looked like you believed that day to be your last and you believed that you would die alone. See, that's what's good about the Avengers. We know that any one of these fights could be our last but we also know that we would die in the company of our team, saving the world. I can see in your eyes that all of this is true but it doesn't have to continue that way." Then he continues to prattle on but that message really hit me in the heart. I did believe that to be my last day and I continue to worry that the next will be as well. I want to find a way to convey that to Tony, to tell him that he's right and that I am scared.