Anyway the Wind Blows (Avengers Fanfiction)

அ Chapter Three அ

You have got to keep your head low, if you want to keep your head.

Present

The first time Nikolas had lost control of his gifts, he was three years old.

It has been accidental, of course.

And the second time, he was seven years old and it had been in the presence of a man that would later become one of his closet friends. Charles Xavier had welcomed the loss of control, speaking soft words into a mind full of chaos and words that Nikolas could not speak.

It would be three years before Nikolas lost control again and that time it would be on purpose. The near death of Charles Xavier resulted in an explosion of every object within reach. Nikolas had been purposeful with it, attacking the mutant assailant with everything in him and yet still seeing that the man lived.

This event, at ten years old, gave way for the young Stark to speak for the first time and ever since he had been learning every language in an attempt to always have a way to speak his mind.

With his father in the desert, injured and in so much pain so often that he could not produce a coherent thought, Nikolas found the words impossibly far away despite his collection of dialects.

His dad was helpful, speaking in soft words and providing a comforting touch that eased the pain. The story of what had happened to leave them in the cave had been a multiple hour affair as Nikolas had passed out the first time and wasn't ready to hear it when he woke up the second time.

Yinsen helped as well, sharing things in a conversational tone that was mostly little pieces of information that Nikolas had missed. If Nikolas sat still long enough, the medical doctor would share stories about his home or his schooling or even his family.

This did not happen often.

For Nikolas, especially at this point in his life, loosing control was something to be avoided but not shunned.

He had convinced himself years ago that his powers were not something to be feared and that even if he were to loose control, it was found at the end of the event. There were, of course, safeguards in place so that both him and his dad could be sure that the rare few times he did loose control it would not be deadly.

One of these was a thin black band that Nikolas wore of his left hand. It hugged the shape of his wrist so specifically close without being tight that the young doctor often forgot that he was wearing it. The band was connected to JARVIS and constantly monitored his vital signs, and if in a moment where control was lost JARVIS would alert Tony for the man to then quiet his son's mind.

Of course, Nikolas saw that this was a rare event.

The days in the cave all passed the same, Nikolas built the arc reactor first with hands that did not waver and with a mind easily susceptible to suggestion. He trusted the words of both Yinsen and his father, coming to an understanding with the doctor who was a different kind of doctor than him that he could be trusted.

"I know how we are going to get out of here."

Yinsen had not heard the young doctor speak, and the moment he did he could see the hope found in the older Stark's eyes. Nikolas lifted a stack of transparent papers, beckoning the two men closer and flattening them out in front of him. The image formed through the pagers was jagged, but understood.

Tony smiled, "This is our ticket home."

Nikolas had nodded in reply, the action repeated too many times for it to be natural. "This is our ticket home." He looked first to his dad, and then to Yinsen's eyebrows, patting the pages beside him to reassure the two men.

There had always been a balance between the two Stark men.

Anthony E. Stark was the designer, the mechanic, the engineer. He had a mind for building the machines, and at the rare few times, designing them. Though most of his designs were an expansion off of previously thought out ideas.

E. Nikolas Stark was the inventor, the brain, the architect. His mind saw pieces of machines and technology as simple equations to follow. Not only could he create what his mind eye saw without flaw, but it worked, every time.

He was the brains behind most of the weapons, and yet with all of his degrees and genius it took too much of him to fathom building the Jericho missile incorrectly.

To build the missile correctly would certainly lead to the deaths of thousands of American's, and with this though in mind Nikolas found building the missile incorrectly fairly simple. Yinsen was at his side should he need him and if not he was at his Dad's beck and call, building the suit of armor that was sure to be their escape from the cave.

Nikolas' constant humming provided a comfort to the mostly silence of the cave, his ears listening closely for any sound of a threat, though everything felt dangerous in an environment unshielded by the noise canceling headphones.

A constant reminder that they were not safe.

The sound of footsteps brought panic to the forefront of Nikolas' mind, his head shot up, every language that he had learned failing him in this moment as he whined in panic. His dead heard the noise, looking up from the other end of the cave and standing to approach.

Tony did not make it far.

The rolling door that rarely opened screeched on its hinges as men with guns filled into the room, their voices jarring and painful for the young doctor to hear.

Nikolas' hands raised above his head, his entire body seeming to ripple in pain as he attempted to stand, only copying the actions of his father and Yinsen. Despite how irrational it felt, Nikolas held his hands above his head to make the captors believe he was not a threat.

This was not true.

And yet, his stood there with his palms placed just behind his ears, fingers splayed as he tried to not fall over from the pain radiating up his leg that he attempted to push away.

The men with guns parted like the Red Sea, the threatening form of Raza passing between them.

He was a beacon of pour, despite the fact that he carried no gun, his only weapon the dagger by his side. It was blatantly obvious that he did not find the two doctors and mechanic a threat.

"Relax." Raza's voice was just above a mumble though his words did come out sharp and crisp with a threatening undertone to the voice. His soldiers weapons lowered but did not fall from pointing at either doctors or mechanic.

Raza approached Tony and Yinsen first a hand brushing along the glowing metal in Tony's chest. Nikolas watched carefully, the ever present nudge of his powers at the base of his skull starting to ache with the sheer will necessary to hold the gifts back.

His father did not flinch, and Nikolas attempted to find the will to stand in the man's unwavering confidence.

"The bow and arrow was once the pinnacle of weapons technology-"