The Science of Monsters

I sat, alone, with my knees pulled to my chin in the middle of the newest of my accommodations. The calm room only made me sick, the jail cell melted, and the glass encasement cracked in four places before it shattered. This is a different room. They tell me it’s some form of mineral, I tuned out exactly what type, but it was open. The cold wind whipped around the cage, occasionally seeping into the walls. I liked the sensation of freezing while the sun loomed bright and the bare tree branches creaked while I rocked myself on the carpeted floor even though a plus chair started at me a few feet away. It looked too much like his favorite. The bed on the far wall was supposed to be inviting, but the startling bright comforter and sheets glared at me. I wouldn’t touch it.

Agent Romanov brought me new clothes. A pair of lose fitting black jeans and a matching t-shirt. She made me change and whip my face with a damp cloth she brought me. Her fingers combed through my long, unruly waves with bits of water before she folded my hair into a messy braid. I never spoke a word to her, and all her words didn’t seem directed toward me.


“You know,” she whispered—she always whispered, “I almost lost someone close to me once.” Her fingers caught a tangle. “Clint, Agent Barton, saved my ass more than once, but there was a time when he didn’t remember that. Loki brainwashed him.”

She didn’t say it, and neither did I. I could tell by the way her mouth curled downward that she was thinking it too though. Bruce didn’t get brainwashed; he got shot. I figured she was told if he was alive or… Is he even alive?

“Stop worrying so much.” Her deep sea eyes met my glassy morning sky eyes. An unspoken promise lied beneath that glance. He’s alive. “I’ll bring you food later. Stark should be here soon; you should rest.”


She left me rocking in that room. Waiting on some sort of comfort, some sort of escape plan, which never planned on finding me. I shivered with the frozen wind. Maybe lunch time drew nearer; I couldn’t tell, but time didn’t matter anyway. I kept my eyes trained on the leafless, lifeless, trees. Boughs bent and creaked; one branch separated from the tree entirely while I rocked.

A soft knock on the door behind me left me breathless. Soft humming filled the room along with the scent of fresh baked bread and something coppery. Oil. My heart fluttered with hope that was crushed when the humming ceased and a man spoke. I didn’t catch his first sentence, or his second. None of his words registered in my mind until he plopped down in the plush chair, one of his legs thrown over the arm while the other tapped the floor. His black disheveled hair was greying on the sides, and his hands were covered in black filth. His mouth moved with ease while a confident smirk lurked upon his lips.

“I thought we killed off the last cell, but then I get a call. The most incompetent people on the planet—no offense Fury—have a subject that controls it well.” He rubbed his hands together. “I’m excited about this.” The wind gusted again. He shivered and stared at me. “Do you mind?”

“I like the cold,” I croaked. The first words I’d spoken in a week. He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have the energy.” My body fell from its rocking position onto the floor while my chest wretched with sobs.

“I broke it!” He jumped from his chair and pressed a button on the wall. His fingers jammed the sirens to life before he lay on the floor next to me. “Listen, you’re okay. Just stop doing that.” A tear rolled into my hair. “Please?”

I stared at him. Please did not sound like a word he used often, and the worry on his face seemed so familiar. It knocked the breath out of me, and shocked me into following his instructions. I took several deep, heavy, breaths. The familiar click of Agent Romanov’s boots filled my ears. “What the hell did you do?”

“Asked for a little heat.” His eyes seemed innocent, but his statement still annoyed her.

“You jackass, she’s not a human heater!” I let her pull me into a sitting position.

“Why do you have it so cold in here?” He hissed.

“She gets sick if it’s too warm.” I shook my head.

“How is below freezing too warm.” He pushed himself off the floor and began pacing. “Are you trying to kill her?”

Agent Romanov stood and glared at him. “If you would’ve been here, you would have seen what’s been happening! How sick it made her!” Her fingers curled into fists. A small bead of sweat began to form on the edge of her neck. I grabbed her leg. She ignored me.

“I would’ve been here except I was saving the city…again!” He stopped and stood in front of her. “Stop being-“

“Ouch!” she looked down at me as sweat dripped into her eyes.

“Stop.”

“What!” She squatted in front of me, placing one of her gloved hands on each side of my face and jerking away.

“I want to go home.”

The man put his finger beneath the collar of his shirt and fanned it. “That’s what I’m here for, sweetheart.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I want to go home.”

“Is she…” he trailed off. “My name is Tony Stark. We’re going to my house which is home, okay?”

“You mean?” Romanov whispered. “You want to go where we found you.” I nodded. “He’s not there, you know?”

“But it’s home.” New tears found their way to the brims of my eyes. She hugged me.

“No it’s not.”

“It’s better,” the tears made their way into my voice, “than here.”