Chapter Text
The base is underground west of Tucson, Arizona. They find the entrance in a large crevice between two mounds of red dirt. It belongs to a Mexican side-branch of Hydra called Fénix. The Avengers have been after them since the emergence of a 'Super Villain' (as the media deemed her) going under the alias of Queen Cobra. They caught her and sent her to the Raft for handling, but she'd made her affiliations known with notes left at the scenes of her crimes.
"I rise from the ashes, baby. Like a Fénix."
They don't know if they've been witness to all of her powers, but there are enough to know she'd been homebrewed much like Captain America.
Super strength and hearing. Inhuman agility and flexibility. She produces venom in her mouth that can kill anyone she bites, and it's known that she'll collect it to coat her weapons.
She'd been trained and fought well, but hadn't been much of a match for the Avengers. There was something about her taunts and jeers that were leading them to believe that she had chosen this life which was causing them the most discomfort.
The last thing they need is some over-confident scientists creating supers in a lab out of deranged civilians.
Weeks of research and digging later, here they are.
The jet lands on the top of the mountain and they walk to the opening. Natasha and Clint rappel down first and crawl through some hidden vents to investigate the area and report back their findings.
There are several floors filled with various lab equipment and research and testing facilities. There are some living quarters for the scientists and only a handful of guards with guns.
"Come on in, boys," Natasha says into their team comms. She slips out of the vent and disarms the two men walking down a hall bathed in artificial white lights.
Tony blasts open the hidden entryway and they rush inside. Steve and Rhodey are with him, Bruce is staying in the jet as backup.
There are a few gunshots, but nothing that lands and the guards are quickly taken care of. No one puts up much of a fight at all, they aren't met with any enhanced individuals. They separate and start rounding up the scientists.
A few minutes later, the lights start flickering and there are clicking sounds as Natasha hacks the security system to unlock all the doors.
"Stack these guys in a room somewhere, we'll get them picked up later. Let's find their data and see if they've started creating another Super."
Everyone agrees.
Tony takes a tazed doctor's keycard and locks him in a bare room. Down a hall, there's a one-way mirror next to a thick metal door. Tony stares through it, but it's difficult to see what's in the darkened room.
"That's where they put you when you're bad," a small voice says behind him.
He whirls around and raises his right gauntlet, ready to shoot.
It's a young boy, Tony isn't good with ages but thinks he's somewhere between five and ten. His brown hair tickles his ears and there's a hint of curls beneath the greasiness of it; that and the smudges of dirt on his cheeks, hands, and bare feet indicate he hasn't had a shower in far too long. There are dark circles under his bright brown eyes and his cheeks are sunken from malnourishment. He's pale, enough so that Tony wonders if he's ever been outside of this base.
He's only wearing what look like track pants and a loose black t-shirt that hangs off his thin frame and the collar slips low to show a protruding collarbone. His hands are clasped behind his back and he's rocking back and forth from his heels to his toes. There are several feet between them, but he unnerves Tony with his closeness anyway.
The boy doesn't flinch.
"Who are you?" Tony asks.
"I'm Defect," the boy says, matter-of-factly.
"What are you doing here? Do you live here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know who I am?"
"No, sir." His head tilts and his eyes look him up and down, but the boy only shakes his head. "Are you a robot?"
Tony chuckles, "No, kiddo." The plaque lifts off his face, "Just a man in shiny armour. My name's Tony Stark."
His lips part and his eyes widen in wonder. It's the armour, not the name, that warrants that reaction.
"Let's get you somewhere safe until we clear this place out, alright?"
"Yes, sir."
He leads the boy into one of the rooms he'd come across further down the hall. It's a little kitchenette and he glances around to find somewhere for him to hide.
"Are you gonna tell Dr. Ortiz that I'm here? He'll be mad if he can't find me."
"Don't worry about it, kid, I'll take care of everything."
He slides open a cupboard next to a small fridge and finds it empty. He gestures to the opening, "Think you can get in here?"
"Yes, sir."
That's starting to annoy him but he has things to do and ignoring it is probably easier than addressing it.
"Good. Don't make any noise and don't get out until I come to get you, okay?"
There's another, "yes, sir," and the boy slips into the cupboard. He fits in smoothly and Tony closes the door after him.
He leaves the room with a last glance back at the place where the child is hiding. There could be a lot of reasons he's here. Maybe he's someone's kid and it was bring your kid to work day. There are worse possibilities that he's choosing not to think about quite yet.
Natasha asks him to meet her in what seems to be the control room and he follows Friday's directions that will lead him to her.
It's on the lowest floor and locked by several highly secured doors. She'd gotten through them relatively easily.
The room goes deep and the walls on either side are stacked with running hard drives with crisscrossed wires hanging all over. There are flickering lights and one main hub station towards the back. In the middle of the room, seated against some flashy panels, is a man in a long white trench coat.
He's Hispanic, much as most of the people in the building had been so far, with thick black hair, brown skin, and the unmistakable Spanish accent.
"The phoenix will always rise from-"
"Yeah, yeah, give it a break," Natasha cuts him off and gestures for Tony to join her by the computer.
It makes his fingers twitch. It's running on Windows 95. How have they survived this long? But they seem to have made their own modifications.
"Getting into this manually is going to take a while, it might be faster to try and find the code. This thing's built like a Nokia."
There's a simple prompt for a password, but several of her attempts to get into the command screen have failed so far.
"Can't you get it out of this guy?" Tony gestured to the man on the floor. His hands are tied behind his back and he's pretty sure his ankle's broken, judging by the awkward angle.
"Hydra and their partners are built to be resilient. It wouldn't be quick."
"I doubt we'll find it written somewhere."
"They had a total of nine guards in a base this large; they didn't expect to be found. They could have been careless. There's no harm looking around for some clues and try to hack this the old fashioned way. We might find some research notes too."
Before Tony can respond, her gaze moves over his shoulder and he follows it to see Rhodey standing in the doorway.
With an arm wrapped around a young boy's waist and hoisting him against his hip like a basketball.
"Hey guys, found this pipsqueak making a ruckus in a research lab. Knocking bottles over and making quite the mess. Not sure what it was about and he won't say anything."
"I told you to stay hidden, kid," Tony reprimands. The boy won't meet his gaze.
Rhodey sets him down and he takes two steps away from him. He's staring at the floor and doesn't say anything.
"Know this kid?"
"Saw him a couple of floors up. Told him to hide until I could get back to him. I was going to ask him more questions after we were done here."
"You've found our little defect, maybe he'll be more useful to you than he's ever been to us."
Tony points to the scientist though doesn't acknowledge his words, "Is this your dad?" He asks the boy. The boy's looks are enough for him to know he likely has no Hispanic roots, but he has to ask, just in case.
He shakes his head in answer.
It's the man's following words that make him clench his hands into knuckles to keep from blasting him in the face.
"Bah! Don't offend me! I would never spawn such a useless creature."
"Right," he says lamely to fill the tense silence.
"Well, alright kid, why don't you stay here with Rhodey. That's this handsome fella," he points to him, "while we go in search of a code."
The boy's head tilts. "For the computer?"
"Yup."
He shifts from one foot to the other and quietly says, "I know the code."
"What?!" The scientist snaps, "How would you know the code?"
"I saw," he shrugs. "With my eyes."
Tony holds back a laugh and spots Rhodey's raised eyebrows.
"I... think I know the code. They use the same one for all the big computers."
Tony moves aside and gestures towards the brick that claims to be a piece of technology, "Go on then, give it a try. No obvious bypasses, but at least this old tech gives us infinite tries."
He sees Natasha pull back and there's hesitation in her movements. She's watching him like a hawk would their prey. The boy walks between them, head bowed down, and steps in front of the large computer.
"I've found a few documents. It's all coded so I'm bringing it with me. I'm going to keep looking for anything important," Clint's voice comes through the comms and Rhodey gives a response for them.
"Sounds good. We're at the mainframe and we're going to try and get into it."
"Roger that."
The boy rocks onto his tiptoes and stares at the keyboard. He's frowning in thought and then he's carefully inputting a code, cautious of every key pressed. It's a long one.
Tony's not sure how the kid could have 'seen' it; being told and then having to remember it would be difficult enough without having to memorize it from view alone.
"Do you think they'll let you out of a lab, Defect? Don't fool yourself into thinking they'll take better care of you, you'll always be the defect. Always."
The boy doesn't seem bothered by the man's taunts, but Natasha turns around and fires a quick tazer into his stomach. He slumps down unconscious.
And then the boy presses enter and the air goes still.
A bright blue screen appears with several icons set in a row on the left side. Internet Explorer is the only browser on the screen and it legitimately disgusts Tony.
The boy takes a step back and looks up at Tony for a reaction.
"Good job, kiddo!"
He reaches out to pat his head, spots the flinch, and decides not to.
Tony takes his place in front of the computer and starts clicking around. Natasha joins him and the boy fades into the background.
There are folders within folders within paths. Tony flips open a panel in his wrist plate and pulls out a USB cord linked to Jarvis. He plugs it into the motherboard.
"Download everything, and see if there's anything about 'Queen Cobra' or any other similar projects."
"Yes, boss."
He's staring down at his wrist when he feels Natasha turn at his side. The screen goes black; white commands roll up and up. He looks to her and startles as she's pointing her gun at the child. He's standing next to the wall, hand hovering over a small switch.
"Woah, Nat!" He moves his right hand, and gauntlet, in front of her gun.
"That's a killswitch, Tony. He's on their side, not ours." The safety is clicked off. The boy's only looking at her. He doesn't appear frightened.
"Virus detected. Disconnecting from port," Jarvis cuts in.
Tony tugs the plug out of the motherboard and presses a few keys on the keyboard. The screen remains blank. Some of the lights on the walls flicker out.
"Don't shoot him!" He orders her over his shoulder.
The boy simply... walks away. Her gun follows him, but she doesn't take the shot. He stops next to the fallen scientist and sits on the floor, back pressed against the wall. His arms wrap around his knees, drawn up to his chest, and he stares down at his toes.
The room is quiet.
Rhodey looks at Tony, Natasha is still armed.
Tony reaches out and pushes her arm down until the gun isn't aimed at another person. He leaves the ruined computer; the killswitch activated a virus that's now running its course through every electronic in the building. He lowers himself to one knee in front of the boy and takes off his helmet so they could be eye to eye.
"Hey, kiddo," he says kindly.
Whatever this is, it's not what Natasha thinks. He can tell.
(He ignores the voice in his head reminding him he'd been betrayed by people he'd trusted more often than is normal and that Natasha is a trained spy).
The boy looks up just enough that his eyes are on his chin.
"What's your name?" He asks.
"Defect," the boy repeats himself from earlier.
"I know they call you that, but do you have a name?"
He shakes his head, "That is my name. Or... they used to call me Four-seven. Maybe that's my name?"
Tony hums softly. That's baggage to unpack later, he decides.
"Want to tell me what that was about?" He points over his shoulder to the computer. The boy's eyes fall back to the ground. "No? Okay. Do you understand what we were doing?"
He nods once. "You want information."
"And do you know why?"
"For research."
Tony has to focus to understand the words. He wants to bomb this whole facility.
"Not quite. We want to understand what's been going on here, not recreate it. Do you understand that these aren't good people?"
"What makes a person good?" The boy asks.
Tony smiles, "Good point. Did you like this man? Was he nice to you?"
The boy looks at the slumped scientist. Tony knows that look; he thinks he's being tricked, somehow.
Tony remembers that on his own face, every time Howard would ask pointedly, "And what did you do today?" It didn't help he'd only ask that when Tony was in trouble.
He can't tell, however, what the deal is with this kid. He's completely acclimated to this environment. There's been no shouting or crying. If he had any loyalty to the Fénix gang, then surely he'd be more upset about this man or about what was happening to their home, but on the other hand, he'd deleted all the information that could have helped them.
"If I behaved, Dr. Ortiz-" Ah. Tony knew that one. The big honcho in town apparently. "would bring me a new book. That's very nice."
"Books are quite nice," Tony agrees. He brings up his right arm and presses a couple of buttons, "Do you know this woman? Friday, show us Queen Cobra."
A hologram projects out. She's a tall woman with black skin, brown eyes, muscular arms and thighs. In the image, she's sneering. They assume she's in her early twenties, but know nothing of her actual identity.
His eyes widen, "Yes! That's Eight-five. She's... she's not very nice, but she's nice to me."
"Do you know where she is now?"
He shakes his head, "No, sir. She left to fight people and didn't come back."
"Who was she fighting?"
"I don't know," he says. Tony believes him.
"We know she has certain special abilities, are there others here like her?"
"No, sir."
"Alright, well I imagine you had your reasons for what you did. Maybe we can talk about that more another time. But I want you to understand that we're here to put a stop to what's happening here. These doctors are hurting people, and I think they've hurt you too." The boy's eyes drift down. "Do you have any family that you know of?"
"Everyone's dead."
Tony nods resolutely, "Alright. We're going to bring you back to New York with us and we'll see what we can do to help you there."
"Tony!" Natasha says, "You can't be serious. We can't trust this kid."
"And do you think it's easy for him to trust us?" He asks in return, "Like you said, he's a kid and I'm not leaving him here for Shield to collect."
"That doesn't mean he hasn't been trained," she presses.
Tony can follow her thought process; he doesn't know how old she'd been when she'd gone out into the world as an assassin, but she'd been fighting and learning since birth. This boy could be tricking them. He's not inclined to believe that though.
It's Rhodey who speaks next, however, "The kid probably weighs fifty pounds soaking wet. I think we can take him if he decides to turn on us."
Natasha sighs in defeat.
"Fine, if you say so."
"Glad that's settled. Kid? Do you have anything you want to take with you? You won't be coming back here, so bring everything you want."
"Can I bring my book?" He asks softly.
"Of course you can. Rhodey will stay with you, okay? Tell him where to go find this book of yours."
"Yes, sir."
Tony stands and doesn't offer the boy a hand. He's not ready to be flinched at again so soon.
"Nat and I are gonna keep looking around. When you've got what you need meet us back at the entrance."
Rhodey nods. The plate covering his face is withdrawn and he smiles kindly to the young boy, trying not to frighten him. He gestures to the exit, "Come on, bud. Let's get your stuff."
The boy stands and leaves the room with Rhodey trailing after him.
He stays a step behind the young child, keeping an eye on the back of his head. He knows Natasha is a force of nature, probably has been since she was this kid's age, but he isn't seeing a threat in him the way she is. He'd found the boy throwing bottles of colourful liquids against walls and knocking over tables with expensive equipment on them.
Then he'd hit the killswitch.
"In that room where I found you, were you destroying more evidence?" He asks. He keeps his tone neutral, not trying to accuse or cause any distrust.
The boy's hands link in front of him and he's fiddling with his fingers. He continues to walk and doesn't respond.
"Did they tell you to do that, if someone infiltrates the building?"
When he gets no response, he drops it.
They go a couple of floors up in silence, other than the chatting in Rhodey's comms.
"Are we sure it's safe to take this kid on the jet with us?" Steve asks.
"No," Natasha responds. "He destroyed their data completely, nothing is salvageable. They're using a cute face and sad eyes as a trick."
"He's also a child. If they've brainwashed him, it's still our responsibility to help him out," Tony retorts.
"Then leave him for Shield to handle."
"If the kid turns on us and tries to shank you, I promise to fly him off to Shield myself."
"And destroying evidence isn't enough to convince you he's on their side?"
"It would be, but I'm not convinced that's why he did it."
"Why else would he do it?" Clint is the one to ask.
"I've got a few ideas. Look, guys. The kid looks like he hasn't eaten in days and there's hardly a speck of muscle on him. He thinks his name is 'Defect' because that's how they address him around here. That's not how you treat an asset; he's no more a spy than I am."
At this point, Rhodey tunes them out to focus on the child who's stopped in front of an open metal door. There's a panel to the side with a green light.
"This your room?"
The boy nods and then heads inside. Rhodey leans on the doorframe and watches his every move, just to be safe.
It's bare.
It's four reinforced walls, he's thinking titanium, but that seems excessive and expensive. There's no windows and only one singular lightbulb in the ceiling as a source of light. He spots a dirty blanket in one corner with a flat pillow where he likely sleeps. The boy goes straight to the furthest wall where a collection of books is stacked.
Rhodey gets closer to look at them.
There's around twenty or thirty of them, some with library tags on their side. They range from 'Genetic Data Analysis for Plant and Animal Breeding' to 'Guide to Gems' to 'The Complete Book of Tractors and Trucks'. Rhodey can instantly tell that the information found in them can't be used practically by a prisoner.
"You read all this stuff?" He asks.
"Yes, sir." He turns back with a book on astronomy in his hands. There's a constellation on the front and he's holding it tightly to his chest.
"You like it?"
"Yes, sir!" He says more enthusiastically, "I like to read. When I'm good, I get more books."
"And when you're bad they take them away?"
"Yes, sir," his enthusiasm is gone.
Simple conditioning; if you're good, you get good things. If you're bad, you lose those good things.
They keep the kid quiet with books but don't give him anything he could learn from and use against them. Even novels could prove disastrous, should he get any ideas from the hero's story. The room alone is enough for him to know the boy's a prisoner, not a member of the group, but this solidifies that for him.
"Is that the only one you want to bring? We can bring them all." Rhodey gestures to the other books.
"I'm finished those."
"Oh, okay. Any... clothes or... stuff?" There's nothing else in the room, not even clothes. The boy only shakes his head. "Alright, let's get out of here."
The whole operation is in their hands now, there's not another person in sight as they head to the front entrance. The other's join them shortly.
Clint greets the boy, "Hey, squirt! Heard you're coming with us. You excited?" When there's no immediate response he introduces himself, "I'm Clint. Got a name?"
He's staring at the archer with wide, wondering eyes and he still doesn't speak. His gaze falls on the bow and quiver peaking out over his shoulder.
Clint pulls out the bow and holds it between them, "This is my bow. Ever seen one of these before?"
Steve walks into the room next with some folders in his hands and stays quiet and watches the interaction with Rhodey.
"No, sir. But I've read about it! It's from the... the pale-o-thic, no, pale-o-li..." he stammers on the word and Clint smiles encouragingly.
"Paleolithic era," he says and the boy repeats it.
"Paleolithic era. Yes. That. I thought people only use guns now."
"Nah, not for this guy. I like my weapons to require talent," he says with a grin. His eyes move over the boy's shoulders to Tony and Natasha who'd just walked in.
She glares, "I'll show you where to put that talent."
"Here's what I've got," he puts away his bow and holds out some documents he had in his other hand.
"I've found a few things as well," Steve adds. "It's all in code."
"We'll have Jarvis decrypt it back at the Tower. Jarvis, bring up the jet." The AI activates the auto-pilot and steers it their way.
"What have you got there, kiddo?" Tony asks.
"A book," the boy says. It's not said with any sass, but Tony still chuckles.
"I see that. Are you a fan of stars and sh-stuff?"
"It's interesting," the boy says in answer.
"They only gave him textbooks," Rhodey explains, "That's all there was in his room. And a blanket to sleep on the floor."
"Hm." Tony looks at Natasha with a raised brow and she only rolls her eyes.
"Smart kid," Clint says, "Don't think I could get through any textbook even if I was in jail."
The jet lands then, and the focus shifts. Tony still sees the discomfort on the boy's face at the praise. They all step inside and the boy follows with wandering eyes.
"Have you ever been on a jet before?" Tony asks him. He's debating whether or not he should give the kid something against nausea.
"Um... I think so. I've been on something they called a plane, is that the same thing?"
"Yeah, just about. Did you feel sick on the plane?"
"No, sir."
"Alright, take a seat. We'll be in New York in a couple of hours."