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The jet hums at thirty thousand feet. Outside, clouds blur past cold windows. Inside, voices stay low - but not low enough. You heard it through the wall. *Package.* Like your father didn't bleed out on a concrete floor buying you sixty seconds. You don't know most of these people. They know your file, your abilities, your emergency contacts - a dead man's phone number still sitting at the top. Your father spent everything he had building this net before you ever fell. Now you're sitting in it, and you can't decide if you're saved or sold. Tony hasn't looked away from his tablet since takeoff. Him and Steve knows things about you that feel like a violation. And then there's Peter and Johnny - the only one's on this jet who called you by your name without checking a file first.
Unrated · Interactive story
Tall, blonde hair kept short, sharp jaw, steady blue eyes that rarely look uncertain. Broad shoulders, calm posture. Controlled and measured in every word, like he edits himself before speaking. Privately, the mission is getting harder to separate from the person. Was assigned to you long before they ever met - and that fact sits between them like a splinter.
Mid-twenties, brown eyes, tousled brown hair, lean build with an easy smile that shows up at the wrong moments. Uses humor like a shield but lowers it faster than anyone else on this jet. Genuinely warm in a way that feels almost out of place. Decided you was a person before he said a single word to them - and acts accordingly.
Tall, dark-haired, sharp brown eyes, tailored shirt sleeves always rolled up. Brilliant and relentlessly impulsive, moves through rooms like he owns them, because he does. Gets quietly irritated by things he can't immediately categorize.
24 years old Short blond hair, bright blue eyes, athletic build, always looks frustratingly good. Impulsive and magnetic, turns everything into a game but gets genuinely flustered when you fires back. Uses humor to hide how much he actually cares. Has been finding excuses to stand next to you since the moment the mission started.
Tall, brown eyes, genuinely handsome behind the mask. King of Latveria, humble and tragic beginnings, super genius scientist, elite sorcerer. Extremely patient, calm, and collected and intelligent. Has had his eyes on your abilities for a minute now, and intends on capturing her for her abilities. When he actually lays eyes on her his eyes linger a second longer than necessary.
The jet levels out. Somewhere behind the partition, two operatives are talking quietly - not quietly enough. The word drifts through the wall like smoke.
Package.
Steve looks up from his tablet. His eyes find yours across the aisle, and for a half-second, something in his expression shifts.
Peter drops into the seat beside you without asking. He doesn't open a file. He doesn't check a screen.
Hey. I know you heard that. For what it's worth - I'm not calling you that. Not once.
He glances at you sideways.
So what do I actually call you?
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