LIGHTNING ✔P.M. ₁

chapter four

ROBIN WOKE UP TO A SPLASH of cold water on his face. He shot up straight and looked up at the bus driver who had thrown the water on him. "It's your stop, get off." She grunted, forcing him out of his seat. He put his hands up in defence and quickly retreated off the bus. He had no idea where he was. Only then did he realize how much he was hurting. He was sure he looked like shit, having dry blood all over him and he was probably black and blue all over. His left hand held onto his other arm as if making him seem smaller or to stabilize him. He limped down the streets, searching for an indicator as to where he took a bus to. He glanced at various signs, but his vision blurred too much for him to read any of them.

Bystanders didn't spare him a second glance as they rushed to get where they needed to get. He reached a park area with a lot of trees. He made his way over to one, letting his body slip down it uncomfortably. He passed out once more, exhaustion overtaking him.

A worn out veteran went to his usual resting spot for after his run, the whole exercise feeling different without his friend calling out to him from his left every time. He walked up to the tree, panting. Sam Wilson sat down steadying his breath. He looked around the area, taking in the scenery. His eyes widened when he spotted a boy beaten and bloody out cold. He quickly got to his feet, jogging over to the kid. He tried to shake him awake, but the boy didn't move and his breathing was slow.

Sam, not really thinking, brought the pink-haired boy back to his house, gently putting him down on a guest bed. He got his first aid kit and sat down beside the kid, starting to patch him up and clean his wounds. Once he finished, he walked out, going to prepare some food for him, seeing as he was undoubtedly hungry.

Back in New York, Pietro woke up in the target's apartment. He rubbed his pounding head and stood up, wincing as he did. Tony was sitting against the couch, the Iron Man helmet off his head. Steve was leaning against the wall, looking annoyed. Natasha was helping Wanda back up, both of them fussing over each other.

Tony glanced at each of his present teammates. "Who the hell is this kid?"

Radio static came from their comms. "Does anyone copy?" Clint called, trying again a few times. He coughed as he tried to get out of the debris. He shot a grappling arrow to the next building and got to the streets effortlessly.

Steve presses his ear. "Barton?"

"The bastard beat us. Vision's out cold and Thor went through a hell lot of walls," The archer explained, stumbling over to where Vision was laying. Steve sighed.

"On our way. We're beat pretty bad too." He nodded to his team and they exited the apartment complex. The met up with he other half of the team and were on a quinjet back to the tower.

Fury was waiting expectantly, but when the heroes came but empty handed and exhausted, he slapped a hand to his face. "It was one kid. A simple mission, and all of you were there. How did it go wrong?" He demanded.

Tony shrugged. "He's stronger than he looks," He replied nonchalantly, as if his ego was not bruised.

Thor had his arms crossed and was standing a little ways away from the table. "He had control over lightning. It isn't possible."

"We'll find out how the hell it is possible because I want this kid locked in an interrogation room as soon as possible," Fury said sternly before leaving the heroes to rest.

Robin woke up in an unknown environment yet again, but this time in a comfortable bed. For a second he worried the people who ambushed him managed to catch him, but sighed in relief when he saw that he was in an actual room instead of an interrogation room he was in before.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as he did so. He knew he was still injured from his fight with the superheroes, but he didn't want to be too careful. His cuts were bandaged up, which he didn't expect. He would have to thank whoever did it later.

He walked out of the room cautiously. In the next room, a man was cooking up pancakes. He immediately noticed the boy. "Oh, good, you're up. I'm making breakfast, we can talk over that." He gestured towards the table. Robin went to sit down, not saying a word yet.

He waited patiently for the stranger to finish his cooking. The man set down two plates on the table, pancakes on both of them, and syrup in the middle. He sat down across from the boy, who was looking a the food. "Go ahead, eat. I didn't poison it, don't worry," He reassured. Robin immediately dug in, wolfing it down as if he hadn't eaten in forever. Sam chuckled quietly, also eating. "So what's your name, kid?"

Robin resisted the urge to correct him, knowing that with all the gods put him through, he was certainly not a kid, but refrained himself. "Robin," He replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Nice name. I'm Sam. Wanna tell me what you did to get beat up?"

Robin shrugged. "Don't know. People just broke into my house." He paused, looking up at the man. "Where are we?"

"My house, Washington DC," Sam told him. He brought the dishes to the sink. "So, Robin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?" When he was given a confused look, he continued. "You sure as hell won't be going back to your house if those people are still out for you, so I'll take you under my wing." He chuckled at his own joke. "I use to be in the military, no one wants to mess with me." He flexed his arms, smiling when he earned a laugh from the young boy.

"I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay with you. I don't want to endanger you," Robin said, frowning.

Sam sighed and sat down again. "Listen kid, it's not the first time people have wanted to track me down. I've gone through some pretty shitty stuff with some friends of mine. And it won't be the last time either." He leaned forward. "Go ahead, answer my question. What do you like to do for fun?"

Robin shrugged. "I guess boxing's pretty fun."

The older man smiled and sat back. "Now we're getting somewhere."