It wasn't the pit. Nothing could be the pit. Nothing could be that dark void of pain, suffering, and unending hellish nightmares that thrived off of the torment of others. It was a damn close second though. Six feet by six feet of pure steel. These bastards-even after all this time he still wasn't certain who his captors were-knew enough about his abilities to ensure that he was far enough from any earth or water to ensure he couldn't fight his way out. The tiny living accommodations were not why his extended stay casa la douchebag sucked however. They had been…doing things to him. Poking him and prodding him. Taking samples of his blood, pumping his body full of water to the point where he thought he would overdose on his own element. They had attached high-voltage electrodes to his skin and tested his resistance to electrical shock.

They had tried what he thought was brain washing. He couldn't be sure but the way they had strapped him to a chair and force fed him video montages of mankind's shittiest moments had not been a fun six days. And speaking of time, how long had even been here? At first, he had attempted to count the days, he lost track somewhere around seven months. And that had been a long time ago. That had been before…them. Before the twins. For a long time, it had simply been him alone, trapped in his little hole from hell, his only form of human contact being when the stooges came in to grab him for whatever sick bullshit, they had planned next.

And then the twins had arrived. At first, he hadn't known what to think. He had seen the pair marched past his holding cell. He had heard the screams of terror and agony, but he did not see what was happening. Did not know. Then, they started putting them in a room with him. They never talked, neither of them. Just averted their gaze and did as they were told. He assumed that since his captors had failed to break him or mold him or complete whatever they wanted with him, they would use him as a testing dummy for the twins and their powers. The boy, the one who ran fast, tested out the strength of a punch when running at the speed of sound. Tested whether or not he could literally control his body and the wind currents around him to pull the breath from his lungs.

Then there was the girl. He couldn't even begin to understand the scope of her powers, but what he did know was that they revolved heavily around mind and matter manipulation. She used him as a target for her telekinetic blasts, and her control over heavy states of matter. She would hurl boxes, metal beams, anything and everything his captors could get their hands on, and try and hit him as he attempted to dodge the blows. But that paled in comparison to her gifts of mental manipulation. She had discovered them on accident, in a training exercise she got frustrated that she couldn't hit him, and forced him to relieve his worst memories. She forced him back to the pit. He had been comatose for three days following that particular adventure. After that, he became her practice dummy. She would attempt to manipulate and shape his mind and thoughts, bend him to her will and subject him to abject horrors.

Joke was on her though. After a while, he found a way to block her out. It had been surprisingly easy. Like those days long ago when some of his fellow campers tried to use their mother's talent to manipulate him. It was merely a matter of will, and if there was one thing that he possessed more of than anything else. It was willpower.

Now someone might ask him, "Why not try and escape?" and the answer was simple. Of course he tried. He had tried several times now. Each and every attempt had been met with utter and abject failure. After his eighth attempt, and subsequently his eighth beating, he had decided for a better approach. He was biding his time. He was waiting for his opportunity. At some point, these guys would slip up, they would make a mistake. It would only take one sloppy guard, one guy who maybe didn't enough sleep the night before, or who was running behind and was rushing their checks. That is all that it would take, and he would take advantage of the gift given, and he would make his ninth and hopefully final attempt to escape. The stars would need to align, but hey, he had always been a glass half full kind of guy. It was how he was able to keep his sanity and sense of humor during all of this. He just needed-

"BOOWEEP BOOWEEP BOOWEEP"

Percy was pulled out of his thoughts when a painfully loud klaxon blared over the loud speakers.

"Attention, Avengers Quinjet has entered Sokovian airspace. Repeat, Avengers Quinjet has entered Sokovian airspace. All hands to general quarters."

'Well that is certainly interesting' Percy thought to himself as he pulled himself off the small bed in his cramped cell, 'And more than a little convenient'. Walking over to the clear cel door, he watched as groups of armed guards began running about, in seemingly random directions. He knew better than to ask what was going on, no one was going to answer him. Which was far from helpful. What the hell was an Avengers Quinjet? Was it some kind of new aircraft? Was he about to be in the middle of some kind of active war-zone? And more to the point, where in the hell was Sokovia? He had never heard of such a place before. Was it a country? It had to be, in all the movies and tv he had watched, the only said someplace had an airspace if it belonged to some foreign government.

He shook the thoughts from his head of the thoughts. This was the chance Percy had been waiting for. He began reaching out, trying to feel for any source of water, even running pipes under the facility, but like all the other times he attempted, he felt nothing. He tried to focus harder, tried to find something, anything at all that could potentially help him, but he was violently thrown to the ground and his concentration was broken. All at once, all of the lights in the facility went out. Red emergency lighting sprang to life out in the hallway, illuminating the walls of Percy's cell in an eerie crimson glow. He was about to pul himself off the ground when another explosion rocked the building. The force of the explosion threw Percy across the cell, and his back collided hard with the see-through door. Shaking the stars out of his vision he wobbly rose to his feet and his heart stopped for a moment. There, on the other side of his cell, he could see a small glimmer of sunlight. It wasn't much, almost unnoticeable, but for a man who had spent an ungodly amount of time locked up without seeing the sunlight, he recognized what he was looking at in an instant.

He reached an arm out and focused again, at once, his body recognized something it had gone so long without. The familiar pull of water. It was in the atmosphere, in the ground, in the…was that snow? A feral grin found its way onto his face. Focusing again, Percy found his connection with the earth itself, he pulled, like he was mentally yanking on a crank, and willed the earth itself to move. The ground under Percy began to shake. The shaking increased in violence and the very foundation of the building itself began to move and quiver. The lights in the ceiling began to quiver and wave. Percy focused his attention on the small hole, willing the earth underneath him to tear apart the building at the foundations underneath the broken wall. Closing his outstretched hand into a fist, he jerked his arm upward while willing the earth to rise under the foundation.

In a violent eruption of earth and snow, the wall crumbled in Percy's cell, and for the first time in longer than Percy could remember he felt the sun's rays on his skin. He actually had to shield his eyes at first, the bright glow of his cousins' rlight reflecting off of the fresh powder on the ground was blinding. In spite of the stinging in his eyes, and the slight headache forming after the overstimulation of using his powers for the first time in ages, Percy found himself smiling. It was a real, joyous, happy smile, and soon he was laughing. A true, boisterous laugh that echoed around him. He calmed himself down, in spite of everything he had just accomplished, he knew that he much more he had to do. Part of him, in fact a very loud and intelligent part of him, was telling Percy to cut and run. To run as fast and hard as his legs could carry him, and to put as much distance between himself and his captors as humanly possible. Unfortunately, that very sensible and rationale part of Percy's brain was being overshadowed by a very loud voice, that sounded a lot like his former friend Clarisse, telling him to put a serious hurting on the sorry sons of bitches who thought that they could do what they did to Percy and get away with it.

In the end. Clarisse won out.

Jumping out of the facility, Percy landed in full out sprint. It wasn't hard to find the main facility. It was a literal castle on the side of a mountain, "Must have been in a separate building" Percy mused aloud to himself. He only made it a few hundred yards before an earth-shattering roar emanated from the tree line to his left. Stopping to look, a large green blur launched itself above the trees before disappearing again below the tree tops. There was a loud THUD as snow, debris, and soldiers were launched into the air.

"Imma stay the hell away from that one," Percy muttered before taking off once again, He reached the next set of trees in front of him but had to duck behind a large trunk as a series of bright blue energy whizzed in his direction. He could feel the heat from the shots sizzle next to him as he pressed himself against the bark. Looking down, he saw that the blue shots had left literal scorch marks in the earth. "What the hell was that?" he asked, not expecting a reply. Peaking around the tree, he saw a group of white dressed soldiers charging his way, with what appeared to be rifles raised at the ready.

Diving out from his cover, Percy raised both his hands into the air with his palms facing skyward. Extending his will outward, the snow under the soldier's feet turned into ice and the men began sliding. As a group, the soldiers tumbled to the ground, falling over top of one another. Rotating his right arm in a circular pattern, Percy closed his palm into a fist, and slammed his hand into the ground. The snow around the soldiers condensed into a large mallet like object, and collided heavily into the fallen soldiers. The sound of bones breaking and screams of terror and pain told Percy he had successfully incapacitated the soldiers.

The sound of artillery being fire drew Percy's attention away from the downed soldiers, with a vicious smile on his face, Percy took off toward his next target.

BREAK

Sliding to her knees, Natasha pulled up next to Clint. With one hand she fished through her supplies for a tourniquet and med-pack, and with the other she signaled in her ear piece. "Clint's hit!" she said sharply, ducking under another series of shots from the bunker to her flank. "Does somebody want to deal with that bunker?" She asked as she began prepping the tourniquet. Instead of an answer over the comms, there was a bestial roar as Hulk landed with a crash several yards away. Ducking its head, the monster charged through the oncoming fire before barreling through the bunker, destroying it and scattering the soldiers manning the station. "Thank you." she said, as she turned to continue patching up her friend.

"Duck!" shouted a voice Natasha didn't recognize from somewhere in front of her. Her body acted on instinct, dropping low and shielding Clint's wonder form with her own. Clint gasped and moaned in pain at the sudden weight but stayed still. Turning her head, Natasha watched as a figure vaulted over her and Clint. At the apex of the jump, the man cocked his arm back as though he were about to throw a punch.

Now Natasha Romanov had seen a lot in her time. Aliens, hundred-year-old super soldiers, men who claimed to be gods, and everything under the sun. But what she saw next, baffled her. A flow of water materialized in front of the jumping man, striating at his elbow and ending in a sharp point about a foot in front of his fist. As the man landed in a crouch, he extended his arm outward and the water launched from his arm. As it left the man's arm, the water separated into three razor sharp javelins. Each water javelin struck the chest of a soldier bringing their arms to bare on Natasha and Clint. Turning back around, the man ran over to her and Clint. In an instant, one of her pistols was in her hand, aiming squarely at the chest of the stranger, while her other hand began working at Clint's wound.

Natasha didn't waiver as she took in the appearance of the stranger. He was tall, taller than Steven even, she marked him at somewhere around six foot four. Powerfully built, he was powerfully built, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. He was young though, maybe twenty-two at the most. But most of the baby fat was gone from his high cheeks and chiseled jawline. His eyes were a deep, sea-green, and seemed to be glowing iridescently in the darkness of the forest. Those deep green eyes were currently wide in shock, and the man quickly raised his hands.

"English?" He asked, his accent American. Somewhere in New York if Natasha had to guess. Either he was bluffing, trying to throw her off, or this guy was very, very lost.

She nodded. "Who are you?" She asked

"Percy," he replied, his eyes darting down to Clint and back to her. Natasha's grip on her pistol tightened slightly. "I can help your buddy down there. I can heal him." Natasha didn't answer, but her hand did leave Clint's wind momentarily as she tried to subtly draw the sidearm Clint tucked away in his waistband. One gun was good, two was better, especially after what she seen this man do. The man grimaced, then looked down at Clint again, "listen if I had wanted to hurt you, I would have let those guys shoot you alright? I'm on your side...erm...whoever you are-who are you again? I guess I never asked which was honestly kind of rude of me but you there was shooting and bad guys and then my cell collapsed and-"

'Cell?' Natasha thought, but filed it away for later. This was a judgment call, the wound on Clint's flank was ugly. Bad plasma burn. If they didn't act quickly the skin around his kidneys would rot and the radiation from the blast could potentially do some serious long-term damage to Clint's kidneys. Natasha scrutinized the man again. He hadn't been lying. He was much too open and upfront to have been trying to conceal anything. And he had just saved her and Clint from some further difficulties. Not that she couldn't have done something, she just couldn't be sure that she and Clint would have gotten away without further injury.

Making a decision Natasha nodded, "fix him, but try anything?" She cocked the hammer back on Clint's sidearm to illustrate how poor of a decision that would be. Percy nodded emphatically and dropped to his knees immediately. Gently he rolled Clint onto his side, earning a moan of pain from the beleaguered man, so that the wound was facing up at Percy. Biting his lip in concentration, Natasha watched as his eyes flowed brightly, and a blue aura sprang to life around his outstretched palm. Lowering his palm to Clint's wound, Natasha's grip around her pistol tightened, and then went slack as her jaw dropped open in shock. She watched in fascination as Clint's wound began to clean, fade, and stitch itself back together again. Percy looked up from what he was doing and met Natasha's astonished gaze, the glow from his hand bathing his face in a faint blue light.

Percy smiled at her, "A little trick I picked up. Handy, huh?"

Natasha raised an amused eyebrow, a smirk on her lips, "That's one way of putting it, sure." She said. Looking down, she noticed Clint was no longer grimacing in pain. But he was still breathing heavily. The glow from Percy's hand began to disappear and he stood up.

"I've done what I can to stabilize him. He should be fine for a while but I'd say he should still see like a professional or something." Natasha was only half hearing him, she was bent over the wound and inspecting it. There was still a faint blue and purple bruise where he had been shot, but the wound had been expertly closed and there was no sign of irritation. She barely even registered he was leaving until Percy was already walking past her.

Turning where she sat, she asked, "where the hell are you going?"

Turning to look at her, Percy said, I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been a while. These people, the guys whose asses we're kicking, made it their personal mission in life to hurt me, and use me in any way they saw fit." He gestured at the castle beyond him, "Smart money is that the monocle wearing douche canoe that is responsible for it all is sitting up in that there castle. Bad guys love evil castles. So, me being the forward thinking, red-blooded American man that I am, was planning on walking up to the front door, kicking it in, and seeing how creative I can be with the placement of Mr. Bad Guy's monocle."

Natasha could only stare in relative disbelief.

BREAK

Steve stepped over the fallen soldier, scanning his surroundings and extending his sense as well as he could. Looking towards a darkened corner of the hallway he saw the faint outline of two feet, and breathing, off to his left, he could smell the sweat and stink of another man who likely hadn't bathed in several days. Feigning a run to the left, he threw his shield, which collided with the smelly man to his left. The shield bounced off of the man's body and came back to him just as the man in the corner opened fire. Holding the shield to cover his advance, Steve advanced quickly, ducking under a swing of the man's rifle, Steve smacked the man in the head with his shield, the thug bounced off the wall. Before he could recover, Steve kicked him in the back and the man fell through the doorway.

Following the collapsed body through the doorway, Steve came face to face with the top of the Avengers wanted list. "Baron Strucker," he said, as he sauntered over to the Hydra leader. "Hydra's number one thug."

"Technically, I'm a thug for SHIELD," Strucker said, swiveling around as Steve circled him,

"Well then, technically you're unemployed." replied Steve. "Where's Loki's scepter?" Steve demanded,

"Don't worry," said Strucker, "I know when I am beat. You'll mention how I cooperated; I hope." Neither man noticed the glowing red eyes lurking in the darkened staircase.

"I'll put it right under human experimentation," said Steve, "Now where are the others-" he didn't get a chance to finish his statement as he was launched down another nearby staircase. A woman with long dark brown hair walked over a shared a look with Strucker, but before any words could be exchanged, a nearby window exploded inwards. Strucker was thrown to the floor, but the woman held her ground. Recognizing the figure jumping into the window, she quickly exited the corridor.

Steve recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw the woman who must have hit him exiting the room, but what currently occupied his attention was the large man currently holding Strucker a foot off of the ground by his neck. "I gotta wonder, at any point during this little episode of ours, did you think for one minute that I wouldn't find some way to get to you?" Steve heard the man ask. Strucker only gurgled in response, "What was that, sorry I couldn't hear you over your choking. Want to try that one again tough guy?"

Strucker's face was beginning to go through rapid shades, if Steve didn't step in soon, whoever this guy was would kill him. "Hey, listen to me son. You don't want to do that," The man, boy really now that Steve got a look at him because despite his size the boy couldn't have been more than twenty-one, turned to look at the new voice.

The kid gave Steve a brief once over and raised a single eyebrow, "First the woman in the glowing catsuit now a walking American flag. Did I accidentally walk into a comic-con?" Ah, so this must have been the guy Nat had called in about. "As for this? Oh, this is absolutely what I want to be doing right now. This-" he shook Strucker who choked more violently and turned a darker shade of purple, "Piece of shit spent the last god knows how long torturing me. Experimenting on me. Humiliating me. I can't think of much more that I want right now, than to see if that stupid little cock-ring he wears as an eye piece can fit in some very uncomfortable places."

"Really Cap?" came Stark's voice over Steve's ear piece, "Not gonna chastise junior there for whatever the hell THAT was?" Steve ignored him and focused on the escalating problem in front of him.

"Please, listen to me," Steve pleaded, "I don't know what Strucker has done to you, I can see that he has hurt you. I understand that you want to reciprocate that even a little bit. But you do that. You kill him here and now, and you don't let us take him in to face justice, then you spit in the face of every other person he has ever hurt. Every family he has torn apart, every child kidnapped and tortured loses out on any sense of closure, just so you can experience one small, fleeting moment of vengeance. I don't know you; I don't know the type of man you are. But if you survived this long that means you are a man of conviction, that you are driven and can endure great hardship. I know it's unfair to ask, but think about the bigger picture. Is your own pride worth the potential suffering of others."

Steve could see that he was getting through to the kid. His face was contorting as he processed Steve's words. "You don't understand." the kid ground out, "He took me from everything. Just when I thought I had finally turned my life around, just when I thought things were finally, FINALLY turning around he comes in and takes EVRYTHING FROM ME!" He was shouting now, and Steve could see tears forming in the corner of the kid's eyes. "My mom, my step-father, I haven't seen them in…I don't even know how long. He took me from them, he took me from my family. What about me? DON'T I DESERVE JUSTICE FOR WHAT HE DID!?"

Steve was slowly creeping closer until he was right next to the now sobbing young man. Placing a calming and reassuring hand on his shoulder, Steve said, "You do son. Of course you do. But the only real justice he can face, the only justice that is right for you and your family, and for everyone else this monster has hurt, is lock him away and forget about him. You kill him here and now and you let him win. You let him take the easy way out. He doesn't get to face the repercussions for his actions. Don't let him win. be something more." The only noise in the corridor came from the continued struggled breathing of Strucker. After a long moment, the man screamed in fury and heartache and punched Strucker in the face. The man went limp and the man let Strucker's body fall limply to the floor. Steve didn't need to check to know the Hydra leader was alive. He could the raspy breathing. The young man who had been through far too much finally turned towards Steve. He was openly crying, his eyes red and puffy, but the undercurrent of rage still danced in his vibrating green eyes.

"Sir." he said, and Steve's heart broke for him,

"I wanna go home."

AN: Ok so I know I should be focusing on my other stories but dammit this has just been in my brain for forever. There have been a lot of stories written under these fandoms but I haven't really seen anything like this or what I've thought about for this kind of a story. If there is much love for this then I might see about making a story out of it but for right now I just needed to get the idea out of my head. Let me know what you think.

Love,

LilDB