Chapter Text
The training room looked like a warzone waiting to happen. Glossy floors, reinforced walls, equipment pushed to the side, and a dozen Stark-grade sensors blinking like tiny eyes. Tony was in full engineer mode, barking orders at FRIDAY, while Bruce methodically checked monitors.
“Vitals steady. No neural spikes yet,” Bruce muttered, tapping at the screen like he didn’t trust it.
“Good. Last thing we need is another Hulk cameo,” Tony said, adjusting a calibration node on one of the cameras. “Don’t want our guest thinking we only bring the green guy out when it’s time to scare the kids.”
Alex stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed. Her expression said: You're all wasting my time. But her body language was alert — always watching.
Clint nudged Steve. “You sure this is a good idea?”
Steve’s jaw was tight. “Doesn’t matter. We need to know what she’s capable of.”
“Right, right. I was just hoping today would be a ‘less mind control’ kind of day.”
Natasha didn’t say anything. She was leaning against the wall like she had all the time in the world — but her eyes never left Alex.
Tony finally turned to face her, rubbing his hands together like a man about to open a birthday present.
“Alright, murder princess. You said you’d show us a trick. So — abracadabra us.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re so irritating.”
“You wound me,” Tony replied with a mock bow.
She walked forward slowly, the buzz of the deactivated EM field like a static itch at the edge of her awareness. The room went still. The air was charged.
Alex looked between them — Steve in full tactical gear, Clint with his bow relaxed but ready, Bruce practically vibrating with scientific curiosity, and Tony in his arc reactor shirt but no suit. She paused on him for a beat longer.
Then, with a small smile, she began.
First, the fun stuff.
Clint suddenly clapped his hands together — hard — as if trying to squash an invisible fly. He blinked. “What the—?”
Bruce began walking in slow circles, muttering the ingredients to a lasagna recipe. Loudly.
Tony raised an eyebrow. “Okay. That’s either mind control or early onset dementia.”
Steve tried to speak, only to let out a loud quack instead of words.
There was a beat of stunned silence. Alex folded her arms smugly.
Tony burst out laughing. “Oh my god. She ducked Rogers.”
Natasha didn’t move a muscle. Her arms remained crossed, but there was the faintest twitch in her jaw.
Bruce finally stopped circling. “That was… weirdly relaxing.”
Clint was still clapping every few seconds. “Make it stop.”
Tony pointed at Alex. “This is either wildly impressive or your trauma manifesting in comedy.”
Alex smiled innocently. “Told you I was starting light.”
But then her expression shifted. Her head tilted slightly, like she was tuning a dial. The mood shifted with her.
Subtle, at first.
Steve swung first, fast and tight, shield barely held back by restraint. Clint ducked and rolled, but his arms kept trying to snap back around in attack.
Bruce’s hands were twitching erratically, trying to grasp something — anything. He was muttering, “This isn’t me. This isn’t me.”
Nat’s feet shifted slightly, her stance lowering. She hadn’t been touched yet. And Alex was still watching her — waiting.
Tony, standing off to the side, narrowed his eyes. His limbs twitched once — a shoulder jerk. Then another.
“Okay, that’s enough party tricks.” His voice was cool, calm, but his hand twitched toward his wrist gauntlet.
Alex’s expression sharpened — more pressure applied.
Steve let out a grunt as his arm swung toward Clint again, this time more forceful. Clint blocked, but his bow clattered to the ground as his hand opened against his will.
Clint’s hands lifted again without warning, drawing back into a striking stance.
Steve moved to dodge — but not fast enough this time.
Crack.
Clint’s fist collided clean with Steve’s jaw, snapping his head to the side.
“Goddammit,” Steve growled, stumbling back a step. He touched his jaw, blinking the stars out of his vision. “Okay. That was real.”
Clint looked horrified. “I didn’t — I swear I didn’t mean to do that. I couldn’t stop it.”
“I know,” Steve said, regaining his balance — but his muscles were still twitching, his own arms jerking like marionette strings.
Clint’s other hand cocked back again.
“No—no—no—”
Steve blocked this time, but it was sloppy, off-tempo. His shield arm was fighting against itself, dragging up like a rusted hinge. Clint lunged again, this time pushed by something else behind his movement, not instinct, not training.
Bruce shouted, “She’s increasing the control!”
Natasha was already crouched, muscles tense, but still untouched.
Then Steve’s leg snapped out and swept Clint’s feet from under him.
Clint hit the ground hard with a grunt, wind knocked from his lungs — and still his arm tried to reach up and strike again. Like a machine with no off-switch.
“She’s puppeteering us,” Bruce said, his voice rising, eyes flicking between monitors. “It’s pure motor cortex — not emotional, not logical. Just raw control.”
Clint gasped, pinned by his own body. “I can feel it—like I’m locked inside myself—”
Alex stood across the room, still as a stone, just watching. Her face was unreadable. She turned towards Stark.
Tony’s fingers flexed — his body suddenly jerking a step forward, unwilling. “That’s it. FRIDAY—Mark L helmet.”
With a clink, the faceplate snapped over his face just in time.
Alex turned to him — the effect was instant. Her face shifted from concentration to surprise. She reached out with her mind and… hit a wall.
Nothing. No connection.
She couldn’t see his eyes.
Tony didn’t hesitate. “Sorry, princess.”
The repulsor flared.
The blast hit Alex square in the chest — enough to send her flying backward. She hit the mat hard and didn’t get up.
The room went quiet. Clint gasped, regaining himself. Bruce let out a shaky breath. Steve rubbed his temples, blinking like he’d just woken from a bad dream.
Natasha’s fists unclenched, but her eyes were locked on Alex’s still form.
Tony’s faceplate folded back. “Well. That escalated.”
“Is she breathing?” Bruce asked, already hurrying toward her.
“Yeah, just knocked out.” Tony knelt beside her, watching her face carefully. “She pulled her punch. That wasn’t the full show.”
Steve stared down at her. “And this was her holding back?”
Tony nodded grimly. “Yup.”
Clint looked around. “We’re definitely going to need stronger protocols.”
FRIDAY’s voice chimed in. “EM suppression field reactivated.”
A soft hum settled over the room again.
Natasha stared at Alex for another second, then turned and walked out.
Tony, still crouched beside her, let out a sigh.
“Well,” he muttered. “Guess she really is special.”
---------------------------------
She came to slowly, her mind dragging itself through sludge. There was a high-pitched hum behind her ears, like the tail end of a bad dream, and her body ached with the kind of static-burn that told her exactly what was back online.
EM field. Great.
Alex blinked up at the ceiling — smooth, sterile white — and took stock. Everything felt heavy, her limbs sluggish and oversensitive. It wasn’t pain exactly, but it was close enough to make her teeth clench. She tried to move and immediately regretted it. Her limbs protested, sore and twitchy from the static feedback. Her head throbbed like someone had cracked a pipe inside her skull.
She let out a breath through her nose and muttered, “Well… that escalated.”
Her voice sounded dry, hoarse. The aftermath of being slammed across a room by Iron Man’s repulsor. She hadn’t seen it coming — not really. And definitely hadn’t expected the helmet to block her. That had caught her off guard.
Eyes.
That was the key. She needed line of sight — more than that, eye contact. Without it, everything blurred. Her control frayed. And then boom: she was out cold, body screaming under the weight of a hundred volts of shut-down.
She sat up gingerly, dragging herself upright with effort. No restraints, no cuffs. Just the buzzing field in the walls that promised pain if she stepped out of line again.
A couple months ago, this would’ve been a nightmare.
Now… it was just another Tuesday.
She sighed and leaned back against the wall, arms resting on her knees. She was back in her room. Someone must have brought her in and then leave her alone. Not that she blamed them. What she’d done had been…
Okay, a little over the line.
Not what she’d intended. Not fully. Sure, messing with them had started as a joke. Light stuff. A floating clipboard here, Steve walking backward into a wall, Clint compulsively saluting Tony — harmless, ridiculous fun.
And then — she didn’t know when — it had stopped being funny. The tide had come in, and with it, that hunger to push. Her powers had always felt like a tide she could barely hold back. And for a moment… just a moment… she'd wanted them to feel it. What it was like to be trapped inside your own body. She wanted to see how far she could go. How much they could take.
They’d let their guards down, just a little. Except Natasha. Always watching.
She’d liked that, actually.
She paused, frowning. Wait. Liked it? Yeah. That was new.
It had been fun. Fun. The banter, the challenge, the quiet thrill of freaking them out. And the way Tony gave as good as he got — his recklessness didn’t scare her. It made her grin. She hadn’t done that in a while, either.
She didn’t trust them. Not even close. But maybe — and this was a big maybe — she didn’t hate being here.
That thought was somehow more unsettling than the repulsor blast.
She stretched her arms, testing the muscles. Sore, but functional.
The helmet. That had been clever.
She hadn’t planned on losing control. But when her powers surged, they didn’t always care what she meant to do. It wasn’t like flipping a switch. It was more like holding a wildfire back with a paper fan.
Still, she could’ve stopped.
Right?
The EM field buzzed softly. It reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Not really. Never.
She closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled.
“Great first impression,” she muttered. “Really nailed it.”
A pause.
“At least they have good coffee.”
She got up, still stiff from the events and decided to head to the kitchen. Perhaps the others were there and she could have a talk about what happened.