Avengers 1. Chapter 1

Homeward Bound – Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers in any way.

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Love.

What is love?

Not many could describe it, nor would many if they could. Love is something hard to understand, to define in terms that many would understand. To many, it would be affection that you have for another person, something profoundly tender and sweet. Or it could be personal attachment and deep affection that a parent would have for their child, their offspring. Or a sexual passion or desire felt for another; man or woman.

There are many terms and definitions to 'love'. But what makes love, love?

Is it the way a person would spend hours with their boyfriend, girlfriend, fiance, husband, wife, just to be with them? Is it the way they are showed how much they are loved by small things; the noticing of one's favorite food, favorite movie, wine, color, or flower?

Or could it be the way that when they are in bed, late at night and the other speaks oh so softly so the other doesn't hear, when they think they are asleep, "I love you"? It could be any of those, as sweet as they are.

But the one way many would show love, was to give them something that not many could, would even. A symbol of their love. A small, little thing, that could cause such feelings of belonging, of content. Of feeling like they had found home.

Home.

That's another word that is rarely defined. Let alone used.

To some, it is a place used as shelter, a place to escape the world. Sometimes, it is even used to create masterpieces. To others, it is a place in which domestic affections are centered. But, in some cases, affections is not the only domesticity that happens. In fact, in some cases, affection and love aren't even in the picture.

Sometimes, it hurts, often more than anyone would bear. And who wouldn't be hurt, when the person who is supposed to care for you, feed you and love you, had taken to hitting you, starving you and hating you? It hurts so badly till it reaches a point, when there was no turning back. To cross the line; either leave while you can, or face the wrath that wasn't meant to be taken out on you.

Many, don't choose either.

Some find a much more – painless way. Something I wish I had thought of.

Love and home. Two words that I had associated with each other, words I thought I could partake in without being hurt, without being judged. That someone like me, could be loved unconditionally, like any other child. Like my sister.

I was wrong.

I was so, so wrong.

* * *

**A.N**

Sorry the prologue is so short. It looks much longer in my program =_= And I am sorry it took so long to put a story up. Sheesh. Life got in the way I suppose and there really was no time for it. But it is here now! Rejoice!


	2. Chapter 2

(Chapter One)

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers in any way.

"_Speaking in German"_

"Speaking in English"

_~Dreams~_

_=Flashbacks=_

(Germany – 1999)

The morning was beautiful; sunny, cloudless and slightly windy. The wheat grass was waving in the wind, spreading the sweet smell of hay across the fields. It was the perfect day for flying kites and exploring the forest just outside the farm. In the middle of the golden field, was a two story log cabin that looked as gorgeous as it sounded. Beside it was a large maple tree, the leaves bright green and on a strong branch, a tire swing was tied, though the rope was beginning to weaken.

It was all so beautiful.

Then, two young girls about the ages of ten and twelve, ran out the front door, laughing and giggling like mad. Their sun dresses fluttered as they ran towards the forest, dolls and clutched in their hands. A tall, blond woman stood in the doorway, smiling fondly as she watched them head towards their own personal adventure. Behind her stood a scruffy yet handsome brunette, his hands on her shoulders. His dark eyes watched them as they ran off, both proud they wanted to explore yet scared they would get themselves hurt. Whispering into his wife's ear, they retreated back inside.

They both knew the girls wouldn't appreciate being watched constantly.

Trees and bushes rushed by as the girls ran further into the forest, both headed for a place only their parents knew about: their tree house. Well, of course they knew about it; father built it for them. It was in the middle of the woods, in a fairly large tree but nothing the youngest couldn't handle. The eldest ran ahead of her sister, smiling when she heard whines and protests about how fast she was running.

"_Come on, Annaleisa! You run far too __slow!" _she yelled over her shoulder, a few paces further than her sister.

"_Please slow down, Isolde! You're too fast!"_ Annaleisa whined, panting as she tried to keep up. Isolde laughed but slowed a little for her sister to catch up. They were almost at the tree house anyway.

While their father built the tree house, Annaleisa and Isolde were able to paint it the way they wanted. Which, in Isodle's opinion, probably wasn't a good idea. There were drawings of flowers, trees and butterflies, all painted in colors far too bright to blend into the surrounding brush. They weren't even the right colors, either.

Not caring if her sun dress got dirty, she helped Annaleisa up the latter and climbed up after her. The inside was decorated by them as well; the walls covered top to bottom with drawings and pressed flowers their mother helped them make. A couple dressers that were a little battered up sat at the rear of the room, to hold the drawing supplies and clothing for imaginary scenes, and plays.

"_What did you want to do first?"_ Isolde asked her sister, sitting on the shaggy carpet that used to sit in the living room. Annaleisa shrugged and set down the dolls down.

"_I don't know. Maybe do some drawing?" _she asked, looking to see if the brunette liked the idea. Thinking about it, she nodded and grabbed the pencils, pads of paper and coloring pencils.

Setting them down, she gave Annaleisa her's and put the rest in the middle so they could both reach them. Thankfully, mother had bought them two sets of coloring pencils, so they'd never fight over them. Granted, they didn't fight much at all, but Isolde was thankful none the less.

They drew and colored for a while, Annaleisa asking about how to draw a certain part of something or if the color would look good. As Isolde was the oldest, but also more practiced in drawing than her younger sister was, she often looked to her for advice and guidance. She mostly ignored anything their drawing teacher at school said. It was quite flattering.

After they finished, Isolde proposed they dress up and play outside a bit. Annaleisa agreed but only after showing her older sister. In a hurry, they both put the pictures on the only bare part of the wall, held up by a small nail. Admiring them for a moment, she joined her sister at the clothing dresser. Inside were different types of clothing that their mother had made and bought for them. Dresses, suits, pants, shirts and even crowns, swords and other fabulous gadgets to help their imagination.

"_Can we play Jungle Heroes?"_ Annaleisa asked, holding up a short, tattered dress and a sword. Isolde smiled and nodded, grabbing an almost identical dress and another sword. They put on the dresses and headed outside, climbing down carefully. Isolde had fell once and came out with a broken arm. It wasn't a nice feeling.

Once they were down, Isolde and Annaleisa ran their separate ways, knowing exactly what to do. They've played this game so many times, they knew it by heart, even though it never got boring. Isolde could play it for hours with her little sister.

"_Ready?"_ a shout confirmed her question, _"Alright, in three, two, one!"_ In a flash, they ran to their spots and begun to play.

Just as expected, the game went on for a few hours and the forest echoed with their shouts of glory, mock anger and laughter. It was heartening to hear it.

Isolde grinned widely from her hiding spot, leaning around the well leafed bush to catch a glimpse of Annaleisa's dress fluttering behind a nearby tree. Crouching low, Isolde quickly moved from her bush to a tall tree, ducking low to prevent her sister from seeing her. Sneaking a peek, she rolled and laid flat against the ground, looking around to see where Annaleisa was. When she couldn't see the younger blond, she frowned and stood up.

"_Annaleisa?"_ she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth to make it louder, _"Where are you?"_ Isolde couldn't see her anywhere.

"_Uhm, Isolde?"_ Annaleisa's voice came from where she was standing, but she was now where to be found, _"Help me?"_ She sounded scared and Isolde looked up, eyes widening as she saw her sister clutching a branch tightly, face pale.

"_How did you get up there?"_ Isolde asked, terrified that her sister would fall.

"_I climbed up here."_ she said, sheepishly smiling despite her fear. Isolde brought her hand to her forehead and quickly thought of what to do. She was way too high for her to grab her safely and get down again without falling in the process. And her father was too far away to help. As she was thinking, Annaleisa began to slip from her perch.

"_Isolde! Help!"_

Not knowing what else to do, Isolde stood underneath Annaleisa, arms out and ready to catch her. At eleven years old, she really didn't weight that much, which was disconcerting. But that was kind of irrelevant at the moment, as Annaleisa lost the rest of her grip and fell. Her scream ricochet around them, making Isolde's neck tingle and ears ring but she held her ground, desperately wishing that something would catch her. The distance between the branch and the ground was too far for anyone to survive.

"_Annaleisa!"_

The shout was loud, almost deafening and their father, who had come out to call them for dinner, went running. His fear spiked when he came to their location and it dissolved into shock when he saw his little girl stop in mid air, dress and hair dangling. Tearing his eyes away, he saw his oldest standing directly beneath Annaleisa, hands above her head and expression one of true fear. In his peripheral vision, he could see swirls of air holding Annaleisa up, a line coming from Isolde's hands.

His baby girl was safe and his eldest saved her from certain death but he couldn't acknowledge that, no.

No.

The only thing, even in the current situation that required all his attention, he could think; '_My daughter is a Mutant._'

"_Isolde!"_ he yelled, voice tight and breaking. She startled and turned around, losing concentration. Annaleisa fell the rest of the way and landed in a heap on top of a large, and soft carpet of moss. She grunted and lied still for a moment, before lifting up her head to stare at Isolde, eyes wide.

"_That was awesome!" _she exclaimed, smiling at her sister widely, while Isolde was still staring at her father, that terrified feeling becoming stronger as she looked at him. Things were going to be different, she could tell and her stomach dropped to her feet. His features were hard, his brows drawn down over his eyes, lips tightened she could barely see them and jaw clenched. His hands were also clenched and she took a few steps back in fear.

Her father was never one to hit or attack someone in anger, at least, not at his family. But something inside Isolde told her he was having a very hard time keeping himself from flying at her in rage. She knew at that moment, all ties between them were severed and she felt her heart break.

It's not her fault she's a Mutant. It's not her fault she was like that.

Right?

_Right?_

Somehow, though she didn't know exactly, they managed to get back to the house unscathed. Annaleisa babbled the entire way, hanging on to their – no, that's not right, is it? He was only Annaleisa's father now. Isolde felt tears well in her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, washing away the dirt that was on her face. She followed at a slower pace, keeping behind them at a safe distance so she didn't trigger her... Baldric's anger. Isolde didn't think she had the right to call him father anymore.

At least, that's what her stomach told her.

Trying to keep from audibly sobbing, she bit her lip and kept her head down. She didn't know what would happen but Isolde very much didn't want to know. Her father, when angry, was very unpredictable and could snap at any moment. While she's never had the anger directed at her, she's seen him when he's let himself go. It wasn't a pleasant sight.

Once inside, Isolde sat down on the couch, leaving a large space between Annaleisa and herself. Baldric sat down in the single chair, body tense and shoulders bunched. The older blond hunched herself over her stomach, keeping her eyes on the floor. A few moments later, she could hear her mother's footsteps coming from the kitchen and her stomach dropped even further. Not knowing how her mother would react, Isolde brought her folded her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.

While she loved her... her father, her mother was the one she always went to for advice and help with the problems she couldn't solve on her own. But right now, Isolde didn't know if she would side with Baldric or herself. The blond would love to believe that her mother would pick her side, but unfortunately, she knew that there was a chance that her mother might agree with Baldric.

"_Baldric, did you get the chi-"_ Adala paused when she saw Annaleisa's dress covered in moss and Isolde's face streaked with tears. _"Oh my God, are you two alright?_" She moved swiftly, kneeling before the two of them, looking at Isolde in concern.

"_Mom, it was awesome! Isolde saved me!"_ Annaleisa exclaimed before Baldric could say anything.

"_Saved you?"_ Adala asked, blinking at her oldest daughter. Isolde just ducked her head further, feeling the searing gaze of her ex-father. _"How so?"_

"_Well, I climbed this really big tree because Isolde and me were playing Jungle Heroes and I got stuck. But then-"_ Annaleisa was interrupted by Adala, who gasped.

"_You did what? Anna, that is dangerous. You could have died!"_ she said angrily, brows pinched together in a frown.

"_I know and I fell but Isolde saved me!"_ Annaleisa said excitedly, bouncing in her seat,_"She caught me but not with her arms. There was this stuff holding me that was invisible! It was so cool!"_ She sounded so awed by what Isolde did, that it made her feel a little better but Baldric's face made her cringe.

"_Invisible?"_ Adala asked, looking at Isolde for some answers. Baldric spoke though before Isolde could explain herself.

"_She is a Mutant."_ he said, calmly staring at Isolde, as if he could stare into her soul. It was frightening, to say the least. Adala's eyes snapped to his, shocked and surprised he would say that. Isolde could already feel her impending doom.

"_W-what? You have to be joking, Baldric."_ she said, expression incredulous, _"Neither of us have the gene."_

"_No... but my grandfather did."_ he said quietly, closing his eyes. Adala reeled back in shock and Isolde stared at him. If his grandfather had been a Mutant, why was he so angry about her being one? It didn't make sense.

"_How come you never said anything?"_

"_Because, he was a bastard and someone who shouldn't have been given the powers he was."_ Baldric stood up and glared at Isolde, making her inch into the couch's plushy pillows, eyes wide and frightened. _"And I will **NOT** have a Mutant in my family again!"_

"_Baldric!"_ Adala yelled, completely astonished at her husband's behavior. Not once in their marriage has he ever shown this type of aggression towards his own family. Not once.

"_No, Adala! I won't put up with this!"_ he yelled, voice loud and filled with barely controlled anger. Annaleisa shrank back and slid next to Isolde, who held her in a hug instinctively.

"_'Put up with this'?!"_ Adala cried out, her face looking like it would crumble, _"**This**?! Your daughter is not a 'this'! She is your **CHILD**! It shouldn't matter to you if she has gifts...!"_

"_Gifts? Those aren't gifts! They are a curse and I will not have them in my home! Not while she's still..."_ He paused in his cruel rant, taking a second to glance at Isolde. Her face was white as freshly fallen snow, eyes wider than tea saucers and overflowing with tears. They trailed down her face, disappearing into her dress and dampening the light material.

"_'While she's still' what? What Baldric!"_ Adala ground out, hands clenched at her sides and face dark. Baldric drew himself up and tore his eyes away from Isolde's pleading face.

"_While she's still a **FREAK**!" _he yelled, his own eyes filling with tears he'll never shed, even as he uttered that horrible word.

Adala went pale, face completely draining of color and took a step back from him. Isolde whimpered, hugging Annaleisa to her as she felt her heart snap and break into small pieces, unable to be mended. The youngest didn't like what was happening and hid her face in Isolde's shoulder.

Then, a loud _crack_ of flesh on flesh echoed around the small living room, causing both of them to jerk their heads up. They stared at the sight they saw, unable to believe their eyes.

Baldric's head was whipped to the side, eyes wide and shocked, sporting a bright red hand print on the side of his face. Adala, who was the most gentle person Isolde has ever known, was standing in front of him like a righteous Arch Angel, hand poised to strike once more and eyes burning with astounding anger. She's never her mother look so angry before.

"_A freak? Is that how you think of your daughter now? As nothing but a **FREAK**?!"_ Her scream could be heard for miles, the sound bouncing loudly in Isolde's head.

Baldric, having recovered from his bruise inducing daze, blanched at the sight of his wife and his mouth flapped wordlessly. After a few moments of floundering, he gathered his spine back from the bottom of his stomach and glared at Adala, who spitefully glared back at him. Isolde watched numbly, holding on to Annaleisa tightly. Baldric took a menacing step towards Adala but faltered when she stood her ground. Instead, he turned around and walked to the door without even sparing a glance for Isolde.

"_That... that thing is not my daughter."_ Was all he said before he left, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the statues on the fireplace mantle.

The emotions that Isolde tried to hold at bay, tried to keep inside, came flooding out as soon as her father had left. She sobbed loudly, huge gasping cries that wracked her body and tears falling as if they were rain. Adala, who seemed to be frozen in her spot, broke free from her shock and immediately went to her children. Isolde huddled into the couch, clutching Annaleisa like she was a life line. Her daughter looked so hopeless. Feeling a prick in her eyes, she knelt down and took Isolde's face in her hands.

"_It – it will be okay, Isolde. He... he didn't mean any of that."_ Adala said, but not believing her own words for a moment. Baldric was a man who was set in his ways and nothing short of torture would make him change his mind.

Isolde couldn't say anything, gasping heavily and leaning into her mother's hands helplessly. Adala wasn't able to keep her own sorrow inside and hugged both her girls to her, feeling the tears leak down her face and into their hair. Annaleisa, who didn't know why her father was acting like the monster that hid under her bed, latched onto her mother and sister, crying as well.

If anyone had lived closer to them, they would have became teary eyed at the sounds of desperate weeping, feeling their own hearts breaking a little.

That night, when all the weeping was finished, Isolde lay in her bed where her mother had tucked her in so tenderly and stared out her window. The sky was clear, stars dotting the sky like small bursts of brilliant light, shining brightly. It looked so – free. Wrapping the blanket around her, she sat up and walked over to the window, not wincing at the cold wood floor. For a moment, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of the cool night air and the after-rain.

She wondered what it would be like out there, to be on her own. To be away from such hatred her father showed. Her lip trembling, Isolde blinked rapidly and brought up her hands, looking at them in mild anger and curiosity. How could she, such a small girl, create something that could save her sister? Something invisible but tangible? It seemed so impossible. Against her better judgment, she sat down on the bench and put her hands before her, trying to redo what she had done earlier.

Concentrating, Isolde closed her eyes and tried to bring out the invisible thing. What it was, she didn't know but it had been something from inside of her. As she tried, the words of her father entered her mind and Isolde ground her teeth together. He didn't know anything! Baldric didn't know how scared she had been for her sister, how terrifying it was to see Annaleisa fall from that tree. He couldn't understand how devastated she would have been, if she hadn't caught her.

He didn't know! He knew **NOTHING**!

A strange sound entered her haze and she snapped her eyes open to a shocking sight. Her hands, which had not moved, were covered in red, orange and yellow fire. She stared at them, not able to move lest she burn herself...? Frowning, forgetting her fear for a second, Isolde flexed her hands and was amazed to feel it didn't hurt, at all. This – this was simply incredible! But, wasn't what she had conjured beforehand clear and invisible? Fire was anything but.

The fire was nice and warm though, making Isolde smile and wave her hands. It moved with them, little trails of red blinking out of sight as it snapped off from the rest. Standing, Isolde let the blanket drop from her shoulders and went to the middle of her bedroom. Feeling the urge to dance, she did just that. Holding her arms out, she danced in a circle, smiling widely when the fire left little balls in mid air, casting a hazy glow about the room. Happiness like nothing else filled her entire being, making the flames glow brighter.

As Isolde had her eyes closed, she didn't realize that as she danced faster and faster, the licks of fire traveled up her arms, to her shoulders and surrounded her whole body. Her hair, which had been a pale blond, was now a vibrant orange and was standing on end, twisted into a large swirl. The nightgown she had been wearing disintegrated, the pieces falling but never touching the ground as they were burnt to ashes. Spinning and spinning faster, like a top that would never cease, she illuminated the room around her till every dark corner was revealed to her light.

Unbeknownst to her, the intensity of her light was so bright, that it was like the sky's brightest star had entered her room.

Footsteps suddenly interrupted her carefree dance, her eyes opening. Instead of the blue and green eyes, in their place were deep red eyes, the color filling them entirely. Scared it was her father, she wished she was in bed and abruptly, Isolde was no longer standing in the middle of the room. The vivid glow was doused and left the room completely dark as it was before. In her bed, looking like herself again, Isolde burrowed under extra blankets and closed her eyes tightly.

The footsteps walked by her door, stopped and came back, the door opening slightly. Falling limp as if in sleep, she waited with her heart beating erratically for whoever came in, to leave. A sigh was heard and the footsteps retreated, the sound of wood creaking soft as the door was shut again. Isolde opened her eyes and blinked at her ceiling, wondering what she was going to do now.

_'I can't stay.'_ she thought, sightlessly staring at the rafters, _'He won't let me, not when I'm a... a Mutant.'_ It hurt to think that she would have to leave the only home she's ever known. But what else could she do? It wasn't like she could do anything against him; she didn't have the courage or the heart to try and hurt her former father.

Sighing for too heavily for a twelve year old, Isolde turned over and closed her eyes. She'd figure out what to do in the morning. After all, she always woke up earlier than her mother and sister.

It was barely dawn when she awoke, sleepy eyes blinking up at a dimly lit ceiling. It was far too early to be awake but she had no choice. Heart heavy with sadness, shame, anger and more emotions that she couldn't name, Isolde stood up and went to gather the only belongings she really needed. Her clothes (that was a given), her drawing supplies that mother had bought especially for her, a few books, change that was earned for doing chores around the town and home. And of course; Annaleisa's homemade ring.

Touching it with a finger, Isolde remembered when her sister had made it. It was right after her tenth birthday, only three months ago, and she had been so excited to create something with the crafts in mother's closet, that she made a ring for Isolde first. It was a childish creation, covered in shiny baubles and glitter, but Isolde loved it.

Shaking her head, she got dressed and put on her shoes. They were new, only bought for her a few days ago for doing enough chores. Dark brown in color and sleek in style, they were very comfortable and easy to run in. Done, she slowly packed her things as quietly as she could and tried not to cry as she wrote the letter to her sister and mother. Anything she had to say about Baldric would be held in her heart until she died. She bit her bottom lip and placed the note on her pillow before climbing out her window and closing it softly.

Isolde didn't know where she would go, or who she could turn to but she knew one thing; there wasn't anything from keeping her from exploring her new powers. Nothing to stop her from becoming a good person.

Nothing to stop her from being free...

* * *

_Dear Mother and Annaleisa,_

_If you are reading this, it means that I have left. And I won't be coming back. I'm sorry you have to find out this way; through a letter. But it's neither of your faults, it's his. He won't care for me the same way again and we all know it. Things would never be the same._

_So, I am leaving. Where I'll go or what I'll do, I don't know. All I know is that I won't be afraid for my life, for my well-being as I would have been in this house._

_Annaleisa, don't cry sweetie. You are still my best friend and most amazing sister ever. I will love you till the end of time and more. You can have anything I didn't take with me, as keepsakes. Just remember that I am okay and will be until we see each other again._

_And we will, I promise_

_Mother, you've always been there for me and I couldn't thank you more. I wouldn't have asked for a better mother. Even when you found out I was a Mutant, you defended me from him. That meant so much. Even though I'm only twelve, I can tell what that means. Not every parent would care about housing me, like you did._

_I love you, so much. And I'll never stop._

_Baldric... there is nothing I can say to you that won't be as disgusting as you are, even on paper. So I won't. Just know that I left because of you and you will never, ever see me again. I hope you are happy with the pain and sadness you caused mother, Annaleisa and I._

_Isolde._

End Chapter


	3. Chapter 3

- Chapter Two -

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers in any way. I do not own the lyrics or songs mentioned in this chapter.

"_Speaking in German"_

"Speaking in English"

_~Dreams~_

_=Flashbacks=_

* * *

(Twelve years later - 2011)

The blaring and high pitched whine of her six A.M. alarm was something she should have been used to, but she wasn't. Sighing loudly, Isolde sat up and pushed back the wild mane called her hair while blinking sleepily. She didn't know why she had to be up this early in the morning. It definitely wasn't for her job but she was up now so she might as well stay awake.

Standing, Isolde stretched and yawned, feeling more awake than usual. There was a tingle on the back of her neck and she scratched at it, though she frowned. The only time her neck tingled this strongly, was if something was going to happen. Something big. She shook her head and walked over to the large black dresser. Nothing in the last twelve years had happened, not since she'd left... well, Isolde couldn't really call it home anymore.

Isolde dressed in her casual clothing, ones meant for comfort as well as style, since she wasn't doing much today until five. Maybe some shopping and lying around the house for a while but nothing that needed extremely flashy things. Looking into the full mirror by the dresser, Isolde surveyed her appearance. She knew she wasn't extremely beautiful like many of the women in magazines, movies, TV shows and runways but she was beautiful to an extent; her hair was a nice shade of blond mixed in with a little bit of brown that went well with her startling blue and green eyes. And boy did she mean startling.

When she was born, her mother and Baldric were surprised to find she had a well known but rare genetic mutation (such as her powers); _heterochromia iridis._ It wasn't over the full eye, half of her right eye was olive green and the other a bright blue. Her left however, had a strange but completely coincidental design that was shaped like a rose. Isolde usually wore contacts to hide them but lately, she's felt very proud about how strange but beautiful they are.

The rest of her was very average, nothing too special about anything below the neck. Though she did like her hips, Isolde thought, eying them with a frowning eye. And she had a few muscles from training which were nice and her legs weren't too bad either.

Shaking her head, she made her bed and headed into the kitchen to eat, even though she wasn't hungry. She's learned over the years that eating in the morning despite not being hungry, was better than just having coffee by itself. It gave her more energy, physically and mentally. As well as power wise. Yes, she still has the power she'd found at the age of twelve. It's strange still but she loves them.

Filling the coffee pot with water and ground coffee, she turned it on and went into the living room. It was spacious, since the kitchen was open, and gave a lot of room for practicing yoga and her Tai Chi. The floor, most of the time anyway, was covered in floor mats that are used in gymnastics so she doesn't hurt herself too much when she falls. Standing in the middle of the room, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, moving her arms outward.

Every morning when she could, Isolde practiced using her powers as well, mostly just the least harmful, which were air and water. Earth wasn't so bad but she already had dents in the floor and walls, so it was something to be done outside. Same with fire. The last time she'd tried using fire in her house, the alarms went off and the fire department showed up. Isolde didn't do that again.

Moving slowly, she centered on her breathing and imagined that she was in her happy place, where nothing could interrupt or distract her. Tall, ancient and beautiful green trees towered above her, making her feel small yet incredibly powerful. Light filtered through the leaves, sprinkling dots of sunlight on the ground, her hair glittering brightly. A pond, small but very deep, held multiple koi fish, colored in different shades of red and orange. They swam peacefully, circling the edges of the pond to nab fallen insects from the water's surface. It was beautiful.

Isolde saw herself rising into the air, the largest smile on her face as her hair floated around her head.

In and out went her even breath, matching the wind she could hear outside. Soon, she opened her eyes and found herself hovering in midair, at least five feet off the ground, little swirls of air moving beneath her. Isolde grinned and felt butterflies in her stomach, slowly lowering her arms. She was hovering! This was the third time she's ever attempted to hover and the last two hadn't gone so well. Her behind tingled as if to remind her.

Her coffee pot dinged and she gasped, her concentration broken. She fell to the floor but thankfully had enough mind to land on her feet this time, though they had the pins and needles feeling. Sighing, Isolde walked over to the kitchen but paused. Now would be a good time to practice her teleporting. Backing up till she was at the mats, she thought of being in the kitchen and with a swirl of multi-layered air, she disappeared. Soon though, she re-appeared in the kitchen by the coffee pot, stumbling slightly.

"_Yes!"_ she exclaimed, pumping a fist into the air and grinning widely. Isolde's surprised she was able to do that so efficiently; that was her first try with air teleportation. It was exhilarating.

With her coffee in hand, she moved to the table where her cereal was already laid out and all she needed was the milk. Sipping her coffee, she eyed the fridge and waved her hand at it. Just like she wanted, the door opened though it took a bit of force. Thinking of the milk, she used the air to levitate it over to her and close the fridge simultaneously. Feeling quite accomplished, having only woken up an hour ago, Isolde poured the milk over her cereal and turned on the laptop beside her.

It was always set on the table, as small as it was, and never moved from its spot. It was accessible from there. That and she didn't have a desk. There was barely any room for one in her bedroom. She didn't want to be stuck in there anyway. She'd much rather be out in the city than on the computer all day. Though, she figured if she were a normal person, Isolde would want to be surfing the internet constantly. But she wasn't and that was a good thing, she's finally come to realize.

Reading the news, she caught a live video feed in the corner of the page. Curious, she clicked on it and she sat back when she saw Tony Stark fly across the screen, suit blazed with red and gold. It was night when the video was taken, apparently by a passerby that had seen him flying above the city. There seemed to be a lot of Iron Man on the internet, now that Stark had revealed to the world that, he was indeed, Iron Man. She thought it was funny; the man who had created so many weapons that were used to destroy, became a strange hero. It was also really amazing how he'd survived his kidnapping.

A few more minutes of watching Iron Man flying around, Isolde changed to a different site and found an online story she had been reading last night. It was about a girl being transported to a different universe, where magic was real and monsters told in stories were also real. It was riveting and interesting to read, as the writer described most of the scenes to a T, that she couldn't help but imagine what the heroine was seeing.

Once Isolde was finished breakfast, she clicked out of the story reluctantly and put her bowl and spoon in the sink, the milk jug floating into the fridge behind her. Now she had to go shopping, the list she had made last night on the fridge. There wasn't too much the blond had to get, she was pretty good with keeping enough food in the cupboards and fridge to last her a while, just some things for the living room and new clothes. She was growing out of her old ones.

Isolde took the list and set it on her purse, going to get her coat, iPod, headphones and shoes. While biking around town, since there really wasn't any room for another car to be driving around in town, she loved to listen to music. Songs that made her feel free and alive, blood pumping ones. They were kind of like the ones she listened to while training. They made her feel invincible.

All bundled up for the ride, she put her headphones in and turned on the iPod, choosing a specific play-list that she had made for training. She turned the volume to the right amount, she had bought new headphones that had a lot of bass, and put the iPod in her jacket pocket. Isolde left her house and locked the door, going down to get the bike from the bike rack at the bottom of the stairs. She lived in a townhouse that wasn't connected to her neighbor's house, but there wasn't any room to put her bike inside, so a bike rack was installed outside.

Unlocking her mountain bike from the bars, she hopped on and began to ride down the slightly steep hill. South Stuttgart had a lot of hills, some not so big but her house was built on one of the larger ones and the ride down was amazing, especially on one's hair. She leaned over her bike handles as she began to descend down the road, feeling tingles already as David Guetta's '_She Wolf_' played in her ears. Holding on to the handles tightly, she grinned and closed her eyes, the wind moving past her and boy did it feel wonderful. She knew that was a part of having the power of air but she didn't care. Even before she knew about her powers, she'd always loved riding her bike down the road as fast as she could.

Her heart pounded as she started to ride extremely fast, eyes stinging as air rushed into them quickly and leaving no room to blink. The music helped a bit, the bass rumbling in her ears, probably rattling her eardrums but ah well. When she reached the point where the road leveled out, her stomach dropped and she had to put the peddle to the metal herself. She stood up on the peddles and pumped her legs as fast as she could, weaving in and out of traffic with ease, stalling them when she had to. Central Stuttgart was extremely busy, especially during the morning when everyone was waking up. Hopefully the supermarket wouldn't be too crowded.

Isolde finally made it to the main supermarket and peered over the people walking to and fro to see if there was a space in the bike rack near the entrance. Hah, there was one. Hurriedly, she rode to it before someone else could take the spot. Many people who couldn't afford cars used bikes instead. It saved on gas and repairs as well. You don't have to pay a hundred dollars or more for a bike chain. Locking her bike up, she turned down her music and walked into the sliding doors, mentally groaning as she surveyed the area. It was very crowded, people bumping shoulders more often than not and a lot of space between aisles.

_'Why today?'_ she thought, looking at the ceiling in exasperation, _'Why not tomorrow, or the next day after that? Why when I need to buy things?'_ Her questions couldn't be answered and she rolled her eyes, frowning at the crowd. Well, at least she was taller than most women, so that was a plus.

Picking up a basket, she expertly moved through the multitude of people, snatching the food she needed from the shelves before anyone else could get to them first. Her basket was filling up quickly, as she practically ran from aisle to aisle. Soon, Isolde had everything she needed and was ready to buy them. But of course, there had to be a complication. Someone up ahead of her, who looked very nervous and extremely fidgety, was holding a purchase close to his chest and looked like he wasn't about to let it go. Isolde looked around an elderly woman, wondering if he was stealing it or didn't have enough money to buy it. Feeling as if it was her civil duty to help, she gripped her grocery basket tightly and walked forward.

"_Excuse me, is there a problem?"_ Isolde asked politely, keeping her tone calm and even. The cashier gave her a look, one that asked if she was crazy but told her the problem.

"_He says he paid for the purchase but I don't see a receipt and he won't show me one."_ Gretta, her name tag said, gave a shrewd look to the agitated man. He in return gave Isolde a fearful stare, making her feel sorry for the guy.

"_Sir? Sir, do you have a receipt for your purchase?"_ Isolde asked, making sure he was looking at her. She knew her eyes were kind, as they usually were and hopefully they would make him less edgy. He shook his head and clutched the bag closer to him, as if he could absorb it. She had a feeling something was up and if was what she was thinking, it could be bad for everyone.

Motioning to the cashier behind her, she moved forward, still acting calm though her heart was beginning to pound heavily. There was some movement behind her and it caused the man to step back, glancing around the market wildly. Isolde noticed her head a hand inside his jacket and back up a step, hand held up in surrender. His eye twitched and the hand holding the paper bag was white, a wet sheen of sweat covering his face. This could get bad if she didn't control the situation.

"_Sir, you need to calm down, please."_ she said, nodding to his hand inside his coat and he paled, shaking badly. Uh oh, not good. Not at all. _"Please, calm down. Do you need help?"_

He didn't say anything and backed up another step, his balance unsteady. He didn't look intoxicated or even high, so what was the problem...? Oh, she looked at the bag he was holding on to like a lifeline and noticed the brand name on it; Stuttgart Pharmacy. Isolde realized that he wasn't someone who was trying to steal for shits and giggles, he actually needed those pharmaceutical drugs he was gripping to him. Or someone else needed them.

Okay, so now Isolde knew what she was working with; a man who desperately (or acted like it) needed prescription drugs, or was trying to steal them for someone else. All Isolde needed to do was distract him, incapacitate him and phone for the police. Speaking of which, why didn't someone do that already? Never mind, she had to focus on the man before her. If he became too scared, he would react in a bad way and more bad things would happen. At the moment, she thought to herself, _'Why am I doing this?'_. Because really; why?

But there was no time to think that, as the man moved and everything from then on happened very quickly. Isolde caught a glimpse of a black and shiny pistol, before she dropped her groceries and darted over to him, the space between them no more than five feet. He gave the blond a frightened and shocked stare, mouth gaping slightly and he aimed the barrel at her. Eyes narrowing, Isolde swiftly ducked under his arm and swept his feet from under him, with a little help from her power of air. The man grunted as he hit the floor, the impact causing him to pull the trigger and the bullet ricochet around the ceiling. But thankfully, it didn't hit anyone, just went into a nearby wall that was close to Isolde's head.

_'That was close.'_ she thought, and glared at the man who was moaning in pain. When he landed, she thought she'd heard a dull crack. Guess he must have fractured something. She stood up and huffed, that move wasn't easy to do, even with air on her side. She bent backwards and popped her spine back into place, groaning as she straightened.

"_I am not doing that again any time soon."_ she murmured, rearranging her coat and picking up her groceries again. Since the guy was down for the count, she could finally – **FINALLY** – buy her groceries and go home. Though, training does sound good about now. It might make her feel better.

It's quiet as she moved to the cashier, who just stared at her with wide eyes. No one said anything as Gretta rang her items through, no one moving as she handed the money to Gretta and left, before pausing.

"_I would call the police if I were you."_ Isolde said, then put her headphones in and unlocked her bike. She was glad she had brought her backpack with her, and Isolde placed the bag inside before putting it on. Throwing a leg over the bicycle, she sighed and began peddling. When she was passing the fountain, the sound of loud sirens penetrated her bass ridden ear buds.

About time they phoned.

Ignoring it for now, she doubted anyone would remember what she looked like any how besides her eyes, Isolde let herself get lost in the music and ride to the countryside. As she rode, Isolde used the air to push herself a little faster without having to peddle. It was useful, very useful as her training ground was quite far, hidden in a large forest area that hasn't been claimed by farmers yet. It won't be until sometime next year, so there was enough time to find another one. Isolde was going a lot faster now and her eyes dried out very quickly again. Blinking rapidly, she mentally added goggles to her next shopping list.

* * *

A half hour later, or something like that, Isolde made it to her training grounds and smiled as she pulled up to the familiar clearing. It was definitely her's; she could see the ground was scorched from her trials of fire practice. While they were fun, she didn't think the ground thought so. Parking her bike near a tree, Isolde set her bag and other things near them, including her iPod, and clothing. When she used her fire power, her clothes usually turned to ashes. After the first time, she'd remembered to pack extra clothes. She didn't feel like riding home in just her coat again. It covered all the important parts that should be covered but it was very... breezy.

Although she was a little nervous about being nude, even by herself but when no one came around, even when the fire glowed very brightly, Isolde eventually grew slightly more comfortable. Not by much, but slightly. Shivering a bit, she walked into the middle of the clearing and closed her eyes. While she had to use memories and emotions to make the fire arise, now that she was more practiced and knew what to look for, Isolde was able to create fire without a conscious thought. It was awesome how far she's come and it hasn't stopped surprising her yet. She didn't think they ever would.

For the last twelve years, Isolde constantly wondered why fate had given her these powers. Why they had given them to her grandfather, who was a horrible and disgusting human being. But, there was no questioning it, she supposed, if the Gods (or a Mutant gene) decided to give her fantastic powers, than who was Isolde to judge? Well, she could judge, but that wouldn't change anything. Lifting her hands before her, palms up, Isolde imagined flames for but a second and in a flash – two medium sized balls of fire appeared in her palms. They were as warm as she remembered. The flames quivered in the breeze, seeming so fragile in the late morning sun.

Isolde moved into her Karate stance, the flames traveling to cover all of her hands. Taking a calming breath, she began her training, starting off with some of the easier moves. Sure, she could do the more experienced and flamboyant maneuvers but with how her leg hurt from earlier, Isolde thought it a good idea to start off slowly. Not that the injury would last long, she barely bruised and when she did, it would fade within the next couple of hours. Ever since the blond turned twelve, injuries would be fixed in the space of four days, five tops. At first, she wondered if she had a condition but now, it made more sense. Although, it would have been cool to her if she's had a condition that made her impervious to lasting afflictions.

For a while, she continued to go through the motions before moving onto the harder movements. As Isolde changed the actions from soft and playful, to stealthy and deadly, the fire spread from her hands, to completely cover her entire body. With her eyes closed, she performed the memorized stratagem with perfect precision and ease, not faltering once. Even when the wind began to howl, the earth began to shake and water coiled around the air surrounding her circle. Though she didn't notice, a miniature tornado had swirled itself around her, the ground beneath her feet in that one spot shaking with the force of a level two earth quake.

Fire began to grow, inching itself off her body to connect with the churning air and becoming something what seemed out of control. But, after she completed a few lethal actions, flipping in the air multiple times before landing on her feet effortlessly, Isolde opened her eyes and everything immediately stopped short. The earth that had been floating fell to the ground once more and the water splashed onto the flames, quenching them. Sighing loudly, Isolde stretched her aching muscles and went to get a drink of water. She was a little surprised at how active her powers were when she trained but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

Taking a drink of her bottled water, Isolde cracked her neck and bent backwards, popping her back in place again. Groaning at the warming sensation that caused, she shook herself out and walked back to the circle she'd made accidentally. Now, while she was there, she'd try and work out different ways of teleporting. Air was the easiest and most clean, as it didn't cause a mess or make any scorch marks. But now, it'd be a perfect time to try and broaden her abilities. Not like Isolde'd have a chance later.

Biting her lip, she wondered what to start with. Air was the only one she was halfway decent at, so it was only logical to begin with the one she used least. Looking at a point beyond a large rock, she called out to the water around her and in a rapid coil of liquid, Isolde vanished. Across the clearing she appeared and laughed loudly, shaking her head as water cascaded down her hair. A few seconds later, the water disappeared, seeping into her skin. Thank God she had that ability too.

Okay, next was fire.

When she had started to use her elements to teleport, Isolde was concerned the fire would burn her hair, like it would with her clothes. But she considered the first time she'd basically turned into fire and figured everything would be fine. Working with her fire was a bit different than earth or water. For one, she could create the flames themselves, not just use them. While she had to use the elements around her, which by the way was extremely difficult if there was no source of water around, fire could be created. That also made it her favorite by far.

Staring at the tree she had just been by, red and orange flames came out of now where and whirled her into them, making her vanish. The next moment, she was by the tree again, fire free and feeling warm. That was another reason to love fire, especially since she couldn't be burned; it made her feel warmed from the inside out. Nothing had ever made her feel like that. Well, not anymore.

Isolde made sure all the water was gone before standing still and lifting her hands. Bits of earth; dirt, rocks and grass levitated from the ground and circled her, coming in close to create a sort of cocoon. A millisecond later, Isolde and the rocks disappeared, as if they were never there. Her landing over by the boulder was a little rough but she landed on her feet thankfully. The earth fell to its rightful place and Isolde shook the rocks from her hair, grimacing at the grainy feeling. She thought for a moment, then flexed her body. A cloud of dust exploded from her and she directed it to the floor. That was the good thing about air; she could use it however she liked, even as a duster.

_'Alright, time to try Air now.'_ she thought and teleported in a whirl of visible air, stepping out of it near her back pack to get dressed. Air was easier to manipulate while dressed, she thought. No need to be cold when you can be clothed. Dressed once again in actual clothing, Isolde took another drink of her water and went back to it. She only had three hours left until she had to get ready for her number tonight.

Isolde continued for a while, avoiding the fire since those were the only clothes she had at the moment. Throughout the entire regimen, she thought she had a good handle on things and found out a few things as well. Strangely, teleporting wasn't as complicated as it seemed. All she had to do was imagine where she wanted to go and an instant later, she was there. Simple. Except, if she didn't have a target, she'd probably end up somewhere else. Like in Antarctica. That wasn't something she'd enjoy.

"_Finally, I'm finished."_ Isolde said, gathering her things and putting them back into the bag. She turned around to get on the bike but noticed how messy and dead the ground looked. Wincing, Isolde waved a hand and the misplaced dirt went back into the holes, and made them level out. Adding a little flare, she made the grass grow slightly and everything looked a little greener. Smiling, Isolde got on her bicycle and rode away, music loud in her ears. Using her Air, she rode faster than humanly possible on a peddle bike and reached her house in record time.

"_Thank God I bought only non-perishable food items, otherwise they'd be spoiled."_ she muttered, locking up her bike and racing inside. She'd have to have a shower first before doing anything else. Water was a great help in getting her clean but shampoo and soap did a better job that water alone.

Quickly putting the groceries away, she teleported via Air into her upstairs bathroom and started the water. Isolde had only an hour to shower, get dressed and do her makeup, and hair before getting to the restaurant. She could teleport, as she knew what the inside looked like and if her hair got a little messy, well she could always fix it there. As fast as she could while enjoying the hot water, Isolde washed her hair and body. The sweat and oil from the earlier training washed off of her, leaving her clean again. It felt nice. Once she was done, Isolde air dried herself and teleported to her room, in front of her closet. She didn't have a large closet but then again, she didn't an enormous wardrobe like most women. Just the essentials and a few extravagant pieces for work. And she didn't even buy those either.

Looking at the closet with a critical eye, Isolde wondered what dress she should wear. Most of them were modest, covering all cleavage and even the shoulders. Some of them were brightly colored and were harsh on the eye. But tonight, she was in a fire mood and took out a deep red dress with a sheer orange covering that shined in the light. She put it on, making sure all the gathering of fabric was in the right spots, the shoulders were on right and cleavage was covered. There was a small jacket that she could wear with it, one that had a very Victorian feel to it but it got very hot underneath the stage light.

Thinking she was appropriately dressed, Isolde sat at her vanity and looked at her makeup. She had a variety of eyeshadow and lipstick, but she barely used them. The feel of a cake free face was too wonderful to give up. Wondering which ones to use, Isolde picked up a dark red, rusty colored orange and a shimmering white that glittered. They would go well with her dress, which was good. Setting them down, she started on her hair. It was long, straight and easy to work with. It wasn't as thin as she thought it would be though, running a brush through it. Most of the time she just put it in a pony tail or braid to get it out of the way. But when she was working, her hair was in extravagant and complicated styles, often with jewels, trinkets and feathers in it.

Pulling her hair down to the base of her neck, Isolde rolled a piece of hair towards her head and put a white bobby pin in, keeping it in place. She rolled up the rest, making sure no stray hairs were somewhere they shouldn't be, checking in the mirror. Then, taking the strands she left hanging, Isolde braided them and pinned them alongside the rest. Her bangs were curved off to the right and framed her face nicely, curled a bit from her shower. Biting her lip as she surveyed her hairstyle, she took a large aluminum black rose with gold trimming and pinned it just above the rolled hair. It went very well with the dress and hairstyle.

Satisfied with her hair, Isolde started on her makeup.

If there was one thing she like about having pale skin, it was that she never had to use foundation or any type of base. She occasionally used eyeshadow primer to keep the shadow from creasing but not often. It was a good thing she had a good brand of eye primer. Isolde took it out and put a little bit on her lids, rubbing it in to make it dry. Loading her brush with the dark red shadow, she gently patted it on her eye, coating it generously. After that, she brushed a bit of the rusty orange on the outer and inner edges, making her eyes look smokey. To give it a little shine, she closed her eye and put only a tiny bit of the white in the middle of the red.

Isolde picked up the eye liner and carefully lined her bottom waterline, coating it with coal. Blinking to make her eyes stop watering, she brushed the mascara through her lashes to top the whole look off. She leaned back to see the whole picture and smiled widely, loving the look. Then, to make everything look better, Isolde ran a lipstick called Cinnabar with a light brown tint across her lips, followed by one called Raspberry that looked as juicy as its name. Rubbing her lips together, she mixed in the colors and tapped the white powder on the inside of the bottom lip, and the cupid's bow on the top. It made her lips look shinier and luscious. Her lips were fairly large but this made them seem bigger.

Finished, Isolde stood up and went over to her body length mirror. Even though she didn't like dressing up too often, doesn't mean she didn't enjoy it when it happened. Sometimes, she lived for the nights the bar expected high class patrons. That and none of them would lower themselves to try anything with her. She was, in most of the upper crust's eyes, low class. That was okay though, she didn't want to spend time with anyone who thought a person who actually _worked _for a living, was low class. Isolde looked herself over once more and nodded. She looked good enough for the stage. Slipping on her thigh high lace pattern tights, she adjusted them and put on her low heels. They were casual heels, not liking the 'trendy' shoes that she'd seen in stores lately. All black and a bit glittery, they went well with the outfit and didn't hurt either.

Isolde walked downstairs to get her purse and keys, turning off the light before locking the door behind her. Glancing around, she made sure no one was around before closing her eyes and picturing the women's restroom in the restaurant. Usually, Isolde would 'port from her bedroom but she wanted to breathe in the night air before having to stand in a sweltering and stuffy bar for the next five hours. That brought a grimace to her face but she took a few deep breaths and teleported using her Air.

The landing, while smooth before, was a little bumpy as she appeared in the large stall meant for paraplegic's. Isolde might have hit a bird as well but she wasn't sure. Stepping out of the stall, still a little bit wobbly, she noticed a feather in her hair and chuckled. Yup, she hit a bird. A raven or crow by the color of the feather. It was positioned at the back of her head, right next to the rose oddly enough. Tilting her head, she saw it looked nice next to the aluminum rose and poked it in further to keep it there. Smiling, Isolde left the restroom and made her way to the backroom, where she knew Kamilla would be worrying her head off about Isolde.

As she approached the door to the dressing room, she could hear the woman's frantic voice even from behind the thick piece of wood. Chuckling, Isolde opened the door and caught the last of what Kamilla was saying.

"_... oh Lord, where is that girl? Many of the men and women are looking forward to hearing her sing, some even requested her specifically."_ Kamilla wailed, gripping her dark green fan tightly, the wood clacking against itself, _"Oh, heaven help me! If she doesn't get here on time, the whole show will be a failure."_

"_Don't worry, I am here."_ Isolde said, smirking when the older woman whirled around and gaped at her. A smile the size of the Eiffel Tower lit up her wrinkled features and Kamilla practically ran to her.

"_Oh thank the Gods you're here!"_ she cried, throwing her arms around Isolde for a second before tugging her to the stairs of the stage. _"You're on in five minutes!"_

"_Wait! What song am I singing?"_ Isolde asked, trying to stop, "_I have nothing ready!"_

"_Improvise, darling."_ Kamilla said and pushed her at Lance, the manager of everything electrical. He rose a brow and she shrugged, turning to face the closed curtain with a sigh. Kamilla, while a lovely woman and wonderful friend, was not to be counted on when under pressure. She could hardly function, which is why Isolde was without music. Again. But, as always, Isolde found a song she could sing well enough and remembered all the lyrics to.

"_Lance, Kamilla didn't get any music for me. Could you perhaps play 'Symphonie' by Silbermond? (c)"_ she asked quietly, adjusting the mic so it was level at her mouth. Lance nodded and went to talk to the band, who all gathered for the show. She fiddled with the stand, nervous about singing. She always was, no matter how much time she's had to prepare for it. Feeling a squiggle in her stomach, Isolde straightened her spine and relaxed her features to seem neutral. As the curtains opened, she plastered on a smile and blinked when the spotlight almost blinded her.

"_**And now, introducing the one and the only, Miss Eberstark."**_ The announcer from backstage said, sounding more enthusiastic than she felt. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she focused on the crowd, noting how many people were here. _'Guess they wanted to hear me sing.'_ It was strange how at one point in her life, she had no attention and now, she had more than she wanted. Isolde curtsied gracefully and lifted a hand to the mic.

The band behind her went to their spots and she started to sing, the band following not too long after.

"_Sag mir was ist bloß um uns geschehn_

_Du scheinst mir auf einmal völlig fremd zu sein_

_Warum geht's mir nich mehr gut_

_Wenn ich in deinen Armen liege_

_Es ist egal geworden was mit uns passiert"_

Isolde's voice was smooth and soft, flowing with the music nicely and easy on the most sensitive of ears. Men and women stopped what they were doing to listen intently.

"_Wo willst du hin, ich kann dich kaum noch sehn_

_Unsere Eitelkeit stellt sich uns in den Weg_

_Wollten wir nicht alles wagen, ham wir uns vielleicht verraten_

_Ich hab geglaubt wir könnten echt alles ertragen."_

The men sitting in front of the stage stared at Isolde with glazed eyes and she knew that the beautiful women with them were paid to be there, to giggle and look pretty. Because she sure as hell wouldn't spend time with any of them, as she knew they were complete assholes. But they were customers, just like anyone else and she was forced to interact with them if they called for her.

"_Symphonie_

_Und jetzt wird es still um uns_

_Denn wir stehn hier im Regen_

_haben uns nichts mehr zu geben_

_Und es ist besser wenn du gehst_

_Denn es ist Zeit_

_Sich einzugestehn, dass es nicht geht_

_Es gibt nichts mehr zu reden_

_Denn wenn es regnet_

_Ist es besser aufzugeben"_

She swayed to the music, smiling slightly at Gregory who was playing the guitar. He nodded at her, a smile of his own on his face. She could feel herself tearing up a bit, the lyrics so very sad. Blinking, Isolde took the mic from the stand and moved towards the edge of the stage. Usually, she walked off stage and around the partons but at the way the men were looking at her, it might be safer to stay put.

"_Und es verdichtet sich die Stille über uns_

_Ich versteh nich ein Wort mehr aus deinem Mund_

_Haben wir zu viel versucht_

_Warum konnten wir's nich ahnen_

_Es wird nicht leicht sein das alles einzusehn"_

Isolde closed her eyes and let the song fill her head. The melody and lyrics were so beautiful, that she couldn't help but wonder if the silence is all she'll have in her life. Though, with the abilities she has, she doubted any normal man would want to be with her.

_"Symphonie_

_Und jetzt wird es still um uns_

_Denn wir stehen hier im Regen_

_Haben uns nichts mehr zu geben_

_Und es ist besser wenn du gehst_

_Irgendwo sind wir gescheitert_

_Und so wie's ist so geht's nich weiter_

_Das Ende ist schon lang geschrieben_

_Und das war unsere_

_Symphonie..."_

She opened her eyes for apex of the song, giving Air into her lungs to be able to sing it. Isolde often wished she had extra lung space.

_"Und jetzt wird es still um uns_

_Denn wir stehn hier im Regen_

_Haben uns nicht's mehr zu geben_

_Und es ist besser wenn du gehst_

_Denn es ist Zeit_

_Sich ein zu gestehen, dass es nicht geht_

_Es gibt nichts mehr zu reden_

_Denn wenn's nur regnet_

_Ist es besser aufzugeben...?_

As the music faded, Isolde looked around the room with a smile, feeling happy when everyone began to applaud. A blush appeared on her cheeks and she curtsied, placing the microphone back in the stand. Back straight and head held high, Isolde made her way back stage and when the curtains closed, she slumped against a wall. Taking a deep sigh, she wiped her brow of the sweat she felt collecting during the song.

"_Good job out there."_ Lance said as he walked by, smiling at her. Isolde smiled back and nodded.

"_Thank you."_ Isolde said and walked back to the dressing rooms, where the other ladies were getting ready to perform for their part of the show. During each of Isolde's songs, dancers would dress up and entertain the guests while she worked on the next song. A few of them waved as they passed by her but one or two glared.

Frowning, Isolde sat down at a spare vanity and checked her appearance. The sweat didn't do much to wreck her makeup, though it made her skin shinier than usual. Grabbing a tissue, she wiped her forehead and neck, sighing as the fan that rotated in the corner of the room, blew cool air on her for a couple seconds. Closing her eyes, Isolde just sat there, enjoying the almost silence that permeated the air, the sounds from the stage just barely reaching the rooms. It was nice to sit for a while before her next show.

She felt a presence beside her and she opened her eyes to see Kamilla standing at her shoulder, smiling at her in the mirror. And in her hand was a chilled bottle of water. Laughing softly, Isolde took the bottle with a nod and smile. She relished the fresh and cold taste of water, drinking about half before stopping. Drinking too much will give her singing trouble. Wiping her lips, she looked around for some lipstick to replace what she wiped off and found a color pretty similar. Applying that, Isolde looked in the mirror when Lance yelled through the back door.

"_You're up, Isolde!"_ Lance called, the sound slightly muffled and she felt her heart thump.

_'Another show,'_ she thought, standing and brushing off her behind, _'Wish me good luck.'_

Giving a prayer to anyone who would hear, she took in a deep breath and walked to the stage.

* * *

End Chapter 3

**A.N.**

Holy moly, that is a lot of text O_O Didn't think it'd be that long. Had to re-write and edit this one a lot, but I'm glad it came out this way in the end. It's wordy and uses 'she' and 'her' quite a bit, but I still think it's awesome :3 Read and review! Hope you enjoy!

**She Wolf (Falling to Pieces) (c) David Guetta**

**Symphonie (c) Silbermond**


	4. Chapter 4

- Chapter Three -

Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers in any way. I do not own the lyrics and song in this story.

"_Speaking in German"_

"Speaking in English"

_~Dreams~_

_=Flashbacks=_

* * *

(S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters a week later – Morning)

Agent Phil Coulson was tired. No, that sounded inadequate compared to the exhaustion he felt. The word 'tired' was the size of a pea in contrast to how enormous 'exhaustion' was. He could have stepped on it with such ease that it astounded him. Phil sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the blood pound in his temples and eyes sting with lack of sleep.

And that thought just demonstrated how weary he felt.

The night before, which really couldn't be considered 'night' when it had been around four in the morning, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D gave him a file to read before he had headed out to finally get some much needed sleep. His body craving sleep but his pride and mind that pursued the mystery of top secret files, he agreed to read through it. Now, he was very much regretting the hasty acceptance. As he stared at the papers spread across his large metal desk in his office, the manilla folder they had come in forgotten on the floor, he wondered how Director Fury had gotten in-tel and information on the woman. Then he remembered the man he worked under and sighed again.

The files that Fury had given him were very enlightening and somewhat... supernatural. It was quite strange to use a word such as that, what with people as incredible as Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers and not to mention, Thor Odinson who had come from a different planet and galaxy all together. But what he read was nothing less than improbable and fantastic. It was just something he couldn't have imagined at all. The woman he read about had powers that were beyond anything that S.H.I.E.L.D has ever heard of.

The myth of elementals were very few and in between but were also very popular amongst most likely the entire population that owned a phone, computer or any other electrical device that allows them to browse the internet. In the history of man, and S.H.I.E.L.D, there have only been six elemental Goddesses and they lived about two or three thousand years ago. Around the time the Asgardians and Frost Giants had finished their war on Earth.

But by the time the war had ended, any and all trace of the Goddesses had vanished without so much as a word.

There wasn't any information about the Goddesses further, though it does say one or two of them mated with a few humans and gave birth to demigoddesses. But anything after that was obviously destroyed or lost, that even S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't able to recover any of the transcripts. The only pieces they'd been able to find were burnt and barely readable. Still, Fury had them put into the containment unit for extensive research.

So, to read that this woman had the powers of an Elemental Goddess, made him extremely wary about her. And how he was supposed to approach her and persuade her into joining S.H.I.E.L.D. It would be difficult and might take more than one try but Fury was dedicated to having anyone with the power and means, to help keep the world safe. So was Phil, but to a lesser extent. He was more of a pacifist and talking was his thing, but Fury was all about 'give me what I want or I'll take it from you'. Not exactly the best way to ask someone to join the organization.

Tossing the pages down again, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. Things have been very hectic the last few months, making it difficult to work without being stressed out of his mind, not including looking for new recruits for the last couple of weeks. Feeling himself fall asleep, he shook himself and cursed the blue cube causing the problem. Ever since the Tesseract started acting up, things have been going non-stop and he'd barely had enough time to think, let alone sleep.

Gathering the papers and stacking them again, Phil placed them neatly on the side of his desk and stood. While he still had time, he needed to get ready and fly out to speak to the Demigoddess. If she was one, that is.

Buttoning up his jacket, he collected the files and the white iPod that sat beside his keyboard. Phil smiled as he remembered where he got the small electronic device from and put it in his pocket. He then turned off the lights and locked the door firmly behind him.

As he strode through the gray and blue metal halls, agents and recruits alike nodded at him as he passed. Phil may not be the most aggressive or fearsome agent in S.H.I.E.L.D but he was the most persuasive and polite, which seemed to have given everyone reason to respect him. It might not seem like it, but most people liked to be asked instead of demanded the information S.H.I.E.L.D wanted and/or needed. Politeness was important and it only took a second.

He reached the main deck and saw Director Fury standing at the 'helm', staring out into the sea. Fury was a solitary man and was often quiet, but when he talked, he demanded respect and attention from the entire room. Even if he was alone. Phil walked up to his right shoulder and looked out the window as well. The waters were calm today but he had a feeling the storm was coming, and very soon. Phil's gut was also telling him that what was coming, would not be fun. At all.

"Yes, Coulson?" Fury's deep voice inquired, somewhat startling Phil out of his thoughts.

"Sir, I am ready to head out." he said, straightening his shoulders instinctively.

"Good." Fury turned around, staring at Phil with his one eye, "Get there and don't come back without her. She'll be vital to the Initiative."

"Sir?" Phil couldn't help but ask in shock, though his face remained blank. The _Avengers Initiative_ hadn't been spoken of since the Council had disbanded it a year or two back, on account of the people being too volatile. Why on Earth would Fury be talking about it now?

"I'm afraid things are going to get worse, no matter how hard we try." Fury said solemnly, turning back to the windows. "Dr. Selvig just gave word a few hours ago; something is wrong with the Tesseract. Something big."

"If something is wrong, sir, should I really be leaving?" he asked, his hands tightening their hold on the manilla folder.

"Nothing is happening as of yet." Fury said, then paused, "Yet being the operative word." He said sardonically.

"Sir..."

"We'll take care of things here, Coulson." he interrupted, posture stiff and stare hard, "There are enough agents here to look after things, and Dr. Selvig has everything under control – for now."

"Yes, sir." Phil said, slight resignation in his voice. "Am I taking anyone else with me?"

"Yes, take Agent Barton with you." Fury said, walking away with a long stride, "He's never been to Germany, has he?"

"Not yet, sir." Phil said, smirking at the thought of his young protege.

He nodded to Fury as he walked out of the control room, leather trench fluttering behind him. Phil headed out himself, going to Hawkeye's quarters to brief him. Clint has never been to Germany before, so this might be a good lesson for him.

Stopping before Clint's door, he knocked and received a 'come in'. Phil stepped in and saw Clint sitting on the single bed, fixing and cleaning his arrows. His 'apprentice', he supposed he could say, was extremely talented. Almost immediately great at what he did and it surprised Coulson when he saw a demonstration. Phil wouldn't say it, but Clint was like a son to him and he watched fondly from the door.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Clint asked, not looking up from his cleaning. The agent returned to attention, wondering when he began letting his mind wander.

"You are to accompany me on a recruiting mission." he said, setting the file on the bed and sitting down on the only chair.

Clint set aside his arrows and pulled the folder to himself, opening it. For a few seconds, his face was blank but as he read further down the page, his eyebrows were almost one with his hairline. Phil almost smiled but settled for a smirk. After about five minutes, Clint looked at Phil with an incredulous expression. His face looked very comical. Coulson just stared back at him passively, expecting the reaction. He'd had the same look when he first read the file.

"You aren't serious... are you, sir?" Clint asked hesitantly, looking younger than he actually was.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Phil asked calmly, raising a brow. Clint sighed and leaned back on his hands.

"I suppose not, sir." he said, glancing back at the file, "When are we to leave, sir?"

"Whenever you get ready." he said, standing and picking up the folder. "We'll be flying to Germany, by the way."

"Really?" Clint sounded excited, eyes lighting up childishly but reverted back to professional mode seconds later. Phil smiled then, granting him that small gesture.

"Really." he said, and opened the door, "Jet 42 will be ours and is in the second hanger."

"Gotcha, sir." Clint said, hurrying to get his arrows into their quiver and grabbing some clothes from his small dresser.

Phil walked down the halls to the elevator, where it would take him down to the jet. He usually went on missions alone when he was recruiting new agents but Clint was good company.

* * *

(Outskirts of Germany – Later Afternoon 4:10 PM)

Phil couldn't believe the length of time it took to fly to Germany. Normally, the flight took five hours there and five hours back once the mission was done but the pilot was an imbecile. There were no words to describe how angry he was with Agent Forest. The man had gotten them lost twice and almost crashed somewhere in the highlands of Scandinavia. How he had managed to get them that far from their destination, was beyond Phil.

He was at the moment, sitting in the seat where Phil used to be, sweating profusely and twitching. Phil himself was in the pilot's seat flying the jet, glaring out the windows to keep himself from killing the agent.

Clint, cleaning and checking his arrows again, chuckled at the frightened agent and laughed outright when Forest jumped about a foot in the air. Though mean and very unprofessional, he couldn't help but find it hilarious. Phil Coulson, the most patient and reserved man, just tore a strip out of Agent Forest without a moments thought. And man, was it a sight. He should have recorded it. His laugh died though, when Phil gave him a glare as he stood up. Clearing his throat, Clint gathered his things and followed his handler.

Phil sighed heavily as he exited the jet, fixing his jacket and tightening his grip on his briefcase. He would definitely hear about this back in HQ once they were done and (hopefully) have the newest Avenger in tow. Both agents entered the awaiting black SUV, leaving the shaken rookie agent in the jet. As they drove away, Agent Forest very much considered transferring to a new location. In Antarctica. Shuddering, he flew the jet back to the helicarrier quickly.

The car ride, to say the least, was much nicer and easier to bear than the flight. Phil practically slouched in his chair, of course without _really_ slouching and Clint chuckled beside him. Giving his apprentice a half-hearted glare, since his anger has somewhat left him and he couldn't stay mad at Clint for long, Coulson rubbed his eyes and told himself that _real_ sleep would come that night. They were staying in a very expensive hotel, strange for them but a recruit mission could take several days to finish and hell, S.H.I.E.L.D had money to spare.

Around four in the afternoon, they finally reached inner Stuttgart, though the traffic was awful. That was to be expected, with how many homes were placed in the dip of the inner city. Phil stared out the window, eyes glassy with lack of sleep and blinking rapidly to wake himself up. Coffee would be heaven right now and as he thought that, they arrived at the hotel. Breathing a faint sigh of relief, Phil got out and was followed by Clint into the beautifully grand hotel. The SUV drove away, disappearing into the sea of cars and pedestrians.

Clint's eyes were wide as they walked intolobby, glancing every which way to catch all the designs and intricate details that lined the walls, and almost every piece of furniture in the lobby. Phil swallowed a smile and blanked his features as he stared at the receptionist behind the desk. She was pretty, dark brown hair piled on top pf her head and eyes a nice dark green. She smiled at him, the smile not faltering at his cool gaze.

"_How can I help you gentlemen?"_ she asked, looking over Clint with an appreciative eye. He grinned back at her, white teeth shining.

"_We have reservations for a room with two beds, under Mortice, Reese."_ Phil said, switching to excellent German, making Clint look at him with surprise.

"_Ah, yes. Welcome Mister Mortice, it will be a joy to have you."_ she said, smiling at him and ringing a bell. A moment later, a young man dressed in the bellboy uniform came up to her and waited.

"_Take their luggage to room 345."_ she told him and as the man loaded the minimal luggage onto the cart, she spoke again, _"Your room has a view of the plaza and there is also a restaurant connected to our hotel. The food is fantastic and the music even more so."_

"_Sounds wonderful."_ Phil said, voice polite. She gave them their key card and they followed behind the bellhop into the elevator.

The room was nice – well, that word was a little too bland to depict the beauty of their room. Clint looked like he was about to have a stroke, his eyes were as wide as small plates and he stood frozen in the doorway. Phil knew about his history, how he had never been tied down to one place and never in anything this nice. Feeling a small jolt in his chest, Phil turned around and gave the bellhop a handsome tip, leaving the young man stuttering. Closing the door, Phil turned back around and immediately headed for his bed, falling onto the comforter.

_'God, this is heaven.'_ he thought, feeling himself sink into the feather down covering and sleep try to take over. A laugh from beside him caught his attention and he opened his eyes to see Clint lying on his bed as well, staring at the ceiling. He had an expression of wonder on his face. Phil was startled out of his stare when Clint's stomach growled loudly in the silence of the room. A light blush appeared on his face before his protege blanked his face but Phil had already seen it.

"Time for some food, I think." he said decisively, standing up and wincing as the blood settled in his head again. He fixed his jacket and stopped when Clint stood up, eying his clothes. "You need to change, otherwise we won't blend in."

Clint looked down at himself and shrugged, pulling his suitcase to himself. When he was dressed, Phil looked out the window at the large fountain in the plaza, seeing the lights blink on and glow around the flowing water. He turned back around and had to hold back a smile when he saw Clint. The blond was glowering at his suit, tugging at the collar and constantly fidgeting with his jacket's hem. As if feeling his amusement, Clint glanced up and gave him a slight glare.

"Come on, the restaurant should be down there." Phil said, walking to the door, "Who knows; it might be good."

As they headed down to the restaurant, they heard men and women murmur and buzz about a wonderful singer who sounded like an angel. The restaurant itself was dark and had a cozy feel about it that wasn't smothering or overly intimate. They were lead to a table near the middle with a clear view of the stage but far enough to be hidden in the crowd of people. Sitting down, Phil instantly surveyed the area, feeling alert through his haze of lethargy and seeing Clint do the same. He knew there wouldn't be any people to watch for specifically but one could never be too careful.

A waitress came by and handed them two menus.

"_What can I get for you gentlemen?"_ she asked, smile overly bright and insincere. Phil looked over the menu and saw something his stomach had been craving; _Schweinshaxe._ It was a normal dish to have around Germany, though he could have had it in America, the way the Germans cooked it was divine. His mouth started to water and he quickly ordered it, with a pale ale. He wasn't going to be driving, so the alcohol was allowed.

"_And what can I get for you?"_ she asked Clint, who's brow was furrowed as he tried to read the menu. Phil then realized he probably didn't know any German. Resisting the urge to smack himself, he leaned over and looked over the menu.

"What did you want to eat?" he asked softly in English, not wanting to embarrass Clint in front of the waitress.

"I would like something that is normal." Clint said dryly, raising a brow. Phil smirked and pointed to a dish a few sentences below his.

"_Saurbraten _is a good dish, something your stomach might like." Phil said, pointing to the dish. "It's made with beef and has vegetables like carrots, celery and potatoes."

"Sounds good." Clint said, looking visibly relieved that it was over. Phil quickly ordered for him, glaring at the waitress when she had a mocking amusement in her eyes. His protege wasn't stupid by any means, just not to inclined to learn new languages unless it was needed.

While waiting for the food to come, the lights surrounding the dining area went dim and the stage lit up like a Christmas tree. All eyes, even those in the back who couldn't really see, turned to the light like moths to a flame. Excitement was almost tangible throughout the room, waves of it coming off everyone around them. Phil looked to the stage, wondering if the 'Angel' he heard the leaving patrons speak of was about to perform. Clint looked just as intrigued but kept his face blank.

A voice from the speakers spoke,_"**And now introducing, the one, the only; Miss. Eberstark!**"_

Only moments later, a woman dressed in a gorgeous gown that clung to her frame, walked out from behind the deep red curtains. She was beautiful; her hair was pulled into a Medieval roll at the base of her neck, her bangs curving to frame her face nicely. Her skin, pale underneath the bright light, seemed to sparkle and gleam next to the deep color of the dress. But while all that was dazzling, the one thing that caught his attention, was the startling color of her eyes.

They were a strong contrast; electric blue and deep green, so different from each other and somehow seeming so natural.

As he stared at her, he belatedly realized that the woman on stage, was the woman they were _looking for_. Phil leaned back in his seat and could only sit in a stupor, wondering if any of his last recruits were this easy to locate. And he thought, no, no they hadn't been.

"Coulson? Sir, are you okay?" Clint asked, voice hushed but hard. He was glancing around to find what had caused his handler to act like he was shocked stupid. It was something he wasn't used to.

"Does she look familiar to you, Barton?" he asked softly, nodding at Eberstark. Clint frowned and looked, then widened his eyes in surprise.

"No fuckin' way." he cursed softly, word out of character for him but he couldn't help it. They sat a few moments and were started out of their shock when music, that had a very Pop like tune to it, began to play. Eberstark picked up the mic from the stand and began to sway.

"This morning I was climbing woods

Like I heard, my mamma said I never should

But I knew I'd rather fail and fall

Then never have tried at all

And now there's a Dragon in my room

Heating up, like forty at noon

My hair must have caught in it when I fell

Caught up in pain I couldn't tell

Now I'm falling with fever"

Both the agents blinked in surprise, Phil especially. When he had heard the people speak about her voice being like an angel, he hadn't believed them. Now, he was convinced. Her voice is so soothing but sensual as well. She also spoke English very well.

"Don't get to close to my bed

Cause I'm burning baby

I'm hearing things in my head

It's beating me up from inside

I need more to save me

Give me a place I can hide"

People around them seemed to relax instantly, staring at the stage with dreamy expressions and Phil wondered if she had an extra power Fury didn't know about it. She moved forward slightly, eyes closed as she sang.

"He's not leaving  
Is he ever going to let me go?

I believe no-one ever seems to know

Why I shiver when I open up my eyes

Do they all think I am full of lies?

So tell me what's come over me

If my view is not what I see

Fire on water is red and blue

It all just reminds me of you

I am falling with fever"

Distantly, Phil saw the men in the front gaze at her hungrily, lust visible in their eyes. He felt like scum just looking at them, so he directed his gaze to Eberstark again. As the song went on, she began to dance a little bit. Nothing much to disrupt her singing, just moving her hips around.

"Don't get to close to my bed

Cause I'm burning baby

I'm hearing things in my head

It's beating me up from inside

I need more to save me

Give me a place I can hide

Don't get to close to my bed

Cause I'm burning baby

I'm hearing things in my head

It's beating me up from inside

I need more to save me

Give me a place I can hide"

_'She is very into the song.'_ Phil noted, seeing the peaceful expression on her face. She was a person who delved into what they were doing wholeheartedly, he could tell. And singing was something she loved very much.

"I lost my love, I wanna leave to meet him

Please hold me back, you know I owe this to them

Give me some ice or throw me in some water

Slap me hard and shake my senses"

Eberstark opened her eyes, staring out into the crowd, her gaze landing on them for an instant. Green and blue irises stared into his blue ones with a startling intensity, widening just so slightly that no one without special training would notice. Phil saw, because he had been trained to see insignificant details.

"God make me strong, please help me home

Help heal my heartache, I'm bitten by a Dragon

Make me resist, undo the spell, I hear them calling

Don't let me be taken"

The multicolored eyes returned to their normal size but they remained considerate and more than a bit suspicious. Turning her eyes away, Phil let out a small breath, hearing Clint do the same beside him. Evidently, he had been captured in her gaze as well.

_'This woman is strange.'_ Phil thought, leaning back in his chair. He wasn't sure if he liked that.

"I lost my love, I wanna leave to meet him

Please hold me back, you know I owe this to them

Give me some ice or throw me in some water

Slap me hard and shake my senses

I'm bitten by, bitten by, I hear them calling

Bitten by a Dragon."

And just like that, the song ended and Eberstark curtsied, dipping low like any regal in the presence of a Queen or King. It was graceful and smooth. Setting the microphone back in the stand, she left behind the curtain and it was as if the sun had been taken out of the room. People visibly wilted into their chairs and turned to each other in an almost sad attempt at conversation, not even glancing up when flashy dancers came onto the stage.

Their food arrived not too long after and he was glad for the distraction, his stomach growling hungrily. He had been so interested in Eberstark singing, that he'd forgotten how hungry he was. Clint was practically devouring his food, a look of bliss on his face and Phil wasn't far behind him. The food tasted exceptionally good and went well with the ale he ordered. There wasn't much conversation between the two agents as they mowed their dinner down in minutes, plates cleared quickly.

The waitress came by to grab the dirty dishes and topped up their drinks as well. Once the food settled in their stomachs for a few minutes, Clint looked over at Phil with a curious expression.

"So, now that we found her, what are we gonna do?" The blond asked, eyes glancing at the stage. Phil wondered about that was well. It would be far too easy to go backstage and kidnap her. But he didn't have the heart to kidnap anyone, recruit or not. Still, there needed to be a plan of action, otherwise this mission wouldn't be done.

"...I have no idea." Phil admitted, feeling a little out of his depth. But then, before he let himself be taken out of his agent mask, Phil thought of something that _might_ work. It was so simple, he was slightly ashamed he didn't think of it earlier.

"Talking to her might be a good idea." he said after a minute, catching Clint's surprised glance. He explained, "Demanding is not my thing, Barton. You know that. Besides, she seems like she would listen if someone asked."

"Not the most tactile plan but a good one." Clint mused, nodding, "But I'm in. When should we..." He trailed off, not knowing how to clarify what Phil wanted.

"Tomorrow, when we're both rested and alert." he immediately said, sleep at the forefront of his mind. The show had been wonderful and the food as well, but sleep was something he was craving more than music or German cuisine.

Quickly, they paid and left before they could be sucked into watching another one of Eberstark's shows (because really, the woman could _sing_). Getting undressed and slipping inside the decadent sheets and blankets, sleep came quickly to the agents.

* * *

(Next Morning – 7:03 AM)

Waking up early was something Phil was used to; the schedule at S.H.I.E.L.D was very off track and he would often be woken up at ungodly hours for a mission or something equally important. This morning though, he wanted to sleep in, and indulge a bit before having to work. Tucked in tight underneath the toasty warm blankets, Phil blearily opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling. The creamy color was dimmed by the clouds in the sky and he idly wondered what time it was. Usually, his internal clock woke him at six AM, but he had a feeling it was a bit later than that.

He spent a few more minutes just laying there, enjoying the warmth from the heavy blankets and softness of the pillow underneath his head. Then, he could feel agitation settling in and sighed, moving back the blankets hesitantly. Phil knew that his body wouldn't let him wallow for too long. Being completely still was something he wasn't used to. Shivering as the cool air from the window stuck to his skin, he looked over to see Clint still sleeping soundly.

Deciding to let him sleep for a while longer, Phil walked to the bathroom to do his business and have a shower.

Once he was finished, Phil got dressed and made himself look presentable. Combing his hair, he glared at his hairline and wondered where it all went. He sighed and ignored how large his forehead seemed and left the bathroom, putting his toiletries on the bed. Clint, who had woke at the sound of the shower, sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was kind of adorable to see the blond archer just waking up, short hair ruffled by sleep and face slightly pink from the heat.

"Mornin'." Clint mumbled, yawning halfway through his greeting.

"Good morning." Phil said pleasantly, buttoning his cuff links.

"Is there enough time for me to grab a shower?" Clint asked, stumbling out of bed to stretch and yawn widely.

"Of course." Phil said, picking up his brief case. "We will also have enough time for breakfast."

"Awesome." Clint said, smiling widely and went to the bathroom, his toiletries in hand. Phil knew Clint wouldn't take too long in the shower, the prospect of breakfast too good to pass up. As he thought, not even fifteen minutes later, the blond archer reemerged from the bathroom squeaky clean and toweling his hair. He was already dressed in his usual uniform, with a jacket covering it so he didn't capture unwanted attention.

"Ready?" he asked, standing from his bed. Clint nodded and brushed a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it out. The short locks wouldn't, they sprang up in every which way. Glaring at his hair in frustration, he huffed and flushed when Phil chuckled lightly.

"Let's go, sir." Clint muttered, cheeks and nose bridge a light pink.

They made their way down to the restaurant, smelling the delightful scent of the breakfast buffet emanating from the large room. Almost against their will, they were pulled in and grabbed plates to fill them to overflowing. It didn't take long for them to devour the delicious food, as both were still fairly hungry even after dinner the night before, and were soon off to visit Miss. Eberstark.

* * *

They arrived at Eberstark's house and Phil had to say he was a bit nervous. Trying to persuade a demigoddess, who by the way could literally burn him alive, was very daunting. But, a part of him was somewhat excited as well. It wasn't every day that a person had the chance to meet someone with such ancient and powerful gifts. Phil stepped out and Clint followed behind him as the SUV drove to park somewhere that was inconspicuous. The two looked around and Phil noted that Eberstark lived in a nice neighborhood that wasn't too expensive looking. They walked up the steep steps and looked at each other before Clint knocked three times on the white, wooden door. It was silent a few moments, then they heard a loud thud from inside and Phil rose a brow. Footsteps came running to the door and it opened to reveal Eberstark in casual clothing, messy hair and a surprised expression.

"_Hello? How can I help you two?"_ she asked, voice as smooth as her singing voice. Phil nodded to her and smiled slightly.

"_Yes, we were wondering if we could talk to you."_ Phil said pleasantly, hoping to conceal his nervousness. She may not look like much but he could tell there was a large amount of power in her.

"_Of course."_ Eberstark said slowly and stepped aside to let them in.

Her house was spacious and beautifully decorated, very much like the woman herself. Phil and Clint were directed into the living room and kitchen duo, where a large gym mat sat on the floor in between the couch and TV stand. She flushed and went forward to fold it up, pushing it to sit against the opposite wall. She gestured for them to sit on the couch and sat on the love seat across from them. For a minute or so, no one said anything and the silence was bordering on awkward when Phil cleared his throat.

"_Miss. Eberstark, my colleague and I are from an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. It stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."_ Phil said, and Eberstark rose a brow at the name.

"_Right, and you want to talk to me for what reason?"_ she asked dryly, leaning back in the seat and resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

Now, Phil was torn; he could either tell her that they wanted to recruit her because of her powers and she'd be a great asset to the Initiative, or he could say something short of a lie to get her there. He had a feeling she could appreciate the honest answer more.

"_We want to ask you to join the Avengers Initiative."_ Phil said, taking a mental breath in anticipation at what her reaction would be.

Eberstark stared at him a moment before frowning and leaning forward.

"_What is the 'Avengers Initiative'?"_ she asked slowly, multicolored eyes sharp as she stared at the two men. Clint and Phil shared a glance before Phil pulled his briefcase out and laid it on the small coffee table. He unlocked it and pulled out the file containing all the information about the _Avengers Initiative. _Giving it a skeptical look, she picked it up and read through it.

Phil watched as she read, watching nervously as he saw her brows get lower, lower and lower down her forehead. He glanced at Clint apprehensively and saw the blond archer shrug in response. There was a loud '_thwap'_ on the coffee table and they both looked to see Eberstark glaring at them with literal fire in her eyes. Phil could see the flames licking inside the irises, eyes now red and orange instead of their usual green, and blue. Both men swallowed thickly and subconsciously scooted back from her. Clint's hand went to the gun strapped to the shoulder holster underneath his jacket. The air was tense as she stared them down balefully.

"_H-how do you know about me?"_ she asked them angrily, hand clenched at her side and Phil kept an eye on her. He knew what she was capable of.

"_We are an organization built to survey and keep in-tel on those who could potentially destroy us or help us."_ he said calmly, keeping a steady gaze with her's, making sure not to break eye contact. _"You are a person, who could easily do both."_

"_But... I would never do something to hurt anyone!"_ she exclaimed, aghast that he would say something like that. Clint rose a brow and pulled out his phone, flipped through it until he came to a video. Playing it, he flipped it around to show Eberstark the footage they had found on the internet a few days prior.

Eberstark stared at the phone and paled slightly as she watched herself take down the shaking man from a week ago. Her movements were quick and precise, something that surprised Phil. He hadn't read anything about her having military training.

"_That was in self defense. He had a gun!"_ Eberstark said, shaking her head in denial. Phil had to agree; she hadn't incapacitated the frightened man anymore than necessary and even told the people to alert the police. She was a genuinely good person, and those were hard to find. Especially in hard times like these.

"_We know but we also know that if you don't join us, the entire world's existence will be at stake."_ Phil said, internally pleading with her to help them. He didn't know if having just the other Avengers would be enough to save them from what was coming.

She looked at them, eyes now scared and sad, no longer spitting flames at them. Turning away, she stared out the window and played with a ring on her right hand. It looked old and had shiny baubles that seemed they were about to fall off. Phil expected her to stay silent, as a clear dismissal but she spoke a moment later.

"_I promised myself... that I would always be a good person and strive to stay that way."_ Eberstark whispered, smiling sadly and looked at Phil, _"But we all know that something like that is impossible now a days."_ She wiped a tear away from her cheek and turned back to them, expression torn.

"_Even as good as I try to be, I don't know if I have it in me to help an entire world that would rather prosecute me and have be killed, then accept me."_ Eberstark said tearfully, wrapping her arms around herself.

Phil stared at her, sad that he had expected her answer and somewhat frustrated that she was refusing to help them. Sighing, he stood up and gathered the _AI_ files, putting them into his briefcase, _"Then we don't have anything to talk about further. It's been nice speaking with you, Miss. Eberstark."_

He made his way to the door, Clint following close behind but he paused when she spoke once more.

"_Wait, agents."_ she called softly, _"Give – give me a few days to think on this. Please. I don't think I could decide this in less than twenty-four hours."_ She gave a watery chuckle and she half smiled back. Reaching into his pocket, he fished out his number he kept on hand when recruits needed some time to think.

"_When you make a decision, call me." _he said, handing her the phone number and she nodded, wrapping a shaking hand around the piece of paper.

She lead them back out to the door and waved weakly as they left, closing the door after them. Phil and Clint, who had been strangely silent throughout the entire conversation, waved for the SUV and climbed in. The blond archer turned to Phil, brow furrowed slightly.

"Do you think she'll join us?" he asked, glancing back at the house as they drove away. Phil nodded, settling back into the seat and closing his eyes.

"She is a good person; standing idly by is not what she's made of." Phil stated, sure of what he was saying. He could sense Clint nod but he knew the blond didn't really understand what he meant. He'd see soon enough.

Yes, Agent Phil Coulson was tired, extremely so but now the he had gotten someone who could really help them, he didn't feel half as exhausted as before. In fact, he felt a little giddy.

* * *

END CHAPTER

**A.N.**

Wow! I'm really surprised at how well I'm doing - usually my chapters aren't that long xD If anyone read the Twilight story I had on here before, they'd know what I was talking about. Anyway, same amount of editing and re-writing but I had a lot of fun writing Phil's and Clint's personalities. And I apologize if Clint's swearing is a little out of character; it's just what I thought he'd say at a time like that. And if his childishness is a little strange... well, I just figured since he didn't have much of a childhood, I'd make him slightly kid like.

Plus, he's so cute like that :D

Hope you enjoy! RxR!

**Dragon (Part II) (c) The Green Children**


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