Grey. | marvel [2]

t w e n t y - f o u r

Elana scours the footage from which they'd pinpointed the location of Doctor Silva for any sign of a family with her. She's looked at the day before, the day before that- all of the footage for a week before, even- but she's found nothing that suggests that what Doctor Silva said is true.

She sighs and puts her head in her hands. She hasn't heard from Heimdall or Thor, she doesn't know if her family is potentially alive or if she's just trying to get under her skin and she misses Bruce. More than anything, she misses her friend. The idea of absolutely no contact for so long has forced Elana into assuming that Bruce has taken a backseat to Hulk's endeavours and that worried her most. If Hulk does something, even if Bruce has no control over it, something horrifying... Bruce would never forgive himself. Every time her mind travels down that route, she reminds herself that Hulk is normally peaceful unless provoked- and that wherever he is, she prays that he's happy and accepted.

Months pass again, Silva giving up little bits of information that only Elana understands. So far, the young spy understands that Madame has been unable to locate the latest recruits and Miss Cameov yet, and that Elana's murder of three of the teachers have set them back quite far. However, comments on her apparently alive family are few and far between. She doesn't know where they are, how long they've been with Doctor Silva, why they've decided to start moving now or why they didn't come sooner.

Elana makes her way back to the living area after another unsuccessful attempt at coaxing information out of Silva. She throws herself on the space next to Natasha on the sofa, mumbling curses in Russian and leaning her head on the older woman's shoulder.
"We'll get there eventually, Elana. Every story has an end," Natasha assures her, stroking her back comfortingly.
"But not every character makes it there," Elana points out. Nat sends her a confused look in return.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing, nothing." But it's everything. Elana promised herself that she'd focus everything on finding Bruce once they got Doctor Silva but she hasn't had a second to breathe since then. Everyone's trying to pull her one way or the other; Tony, Fury, Natasha, James, Steve. And they don't mean to, not really. Elana understands that. But it's so hard to try and keep up with everything and find an appropriate time for Thor and Heimdall- a time that isn't two in the morning. But with Tony staying up later and later the longer that Bruce is gone, the lab is no longer a safe place to talk. She needs somewhere safer, and she thinks she knows exactly where.

1:30am. The Quinjet hanger is silent, as it should be. There aren't many, just the ones left from S.H.I.E.L.D. and created by Tony for the Avengers Initiative. But they can spare one more, right? Nobody struggled after Bruce (well, Hulk) took one, so what's another. She sits inside the least used Quinjet and swings around in the pilot's chair.
"Heimdall?" she whispers. Her eyes glow gold.
"Elana. You have a plan?"
"I want to take you up on your offer of hitching a lift on the Bifrost. How would I need to adapt this jet?"
"It's body is already strong enough. You would need stronger thrusts, though," Heimdall explains.
"What if I was to fly it through space with my powers?" she asks, putting her feet on the dash.
"It could potentially work, but it would take a lot of strength and would take a lot of time, as well. I don't even think Thor could manage that with all his strength."
"Right, so I just need to boost the jet with something and find a way to keep them going. That won't take long. We have a mission to Lagos in a couple of weeks based on some intel... I should be able to get it finished by then if I work every other night," she theorises. "If I'm not done by then, I should be done just after. I'll definitely be ready to go."
"That sounds good. I'll check in soon."
"Thank you, Heimdall."

The gold in here eyes fades away and she swings back to the front, tapping her foot while she thinks of a power source that could push her that far.
"What are you doing up so late, Elana?"
Elana jumps at the sudden voice, spinning around to see Vision floating in the jet.
"Oh, hey Vision. Couldn't sleep," she shrugs, relaxing in the chair.
"Would you like some tea that could help?" he asks.
"No, thank you. I'm actually trying to think with my time awake. Trying to figure some stuff out..."
"Family stuff?" Vision guesses.
"Yeah. Family stuff," she nods. "Thanks for checking in, Vis."
He nods slightly and floats back out of the jet. Elana watches until he's completely gone to let out a little sigh. That was too close. She settles back down before she hears shouting break out in the common areas. She rolls her eyes and stands up, anticipating another argument between Steve and Tony, something that has been picking up in frequency for a while now. She opens the door and walks through, eyebrow slightly raised.

She turns the corner and sees exactly what she didn't expect. A woman who looks just like her although a little bit older and with green eyes stands with a man with Elana's eyes and a boy who looks just like him. She stops suddenly and can't seem to process the new people in the living room. Everyone turns to see her and notice her lack of response.
"Oh! Oh my gosh, Antony, it's our baby!" the woman exclaims, stepping towards Elana with hope written across her face. There is no denying the genetic similarities. The blonde hair, the pale skin, the curve of her lips. The colour of their lips even match perfectly.

Elana steps back, narrowing her eyes. "I am nobody's baby. As far as I am concerned, I am parent-less."
The woman's small smile falls, the hope leaving her face as quickly as it came. Elana moves around her, leaving her husband to comfort her softly.
"ей просто нужно время." She just needs time.
The woman shakes her head and swings around to face the girl who inherited her face. "We are your parents, Elana! Why won't you accept us?"
"Because you left me!" she yells suddenly, her face morphing into a scowl. "You left me, you let me become what I am."
"We didn't mean to, we didn't understand the consequences," Antony argues.
"Don't lie to me. I've been speaking to Doctor Silva. You left me alone. A tiny five year old, left to fend for herself in a vicious organisation. You made me this. And for that I will never forgive you."