Azara's pov

I sat huddled in an alley, my wings forming a dome around me. It's been a few months and I haven't seen a soul. I'd steal the odd bit of food here and there in the dead of night but other than that, I live in on my own.

I've discovered the limits to my powers, you may say; little rules that I can't break. For example, I can merge with any shadow, an inanimate object and a person's as long as I know what it looks like; the shadow's size equates to how much effort it takes (the smaller it is the more difficult it becomes); I can 'disappear' but stay, listen and watch or I can 'teleport'; I can teleport out of any shadow, object and human, but I can't teleport into a person's shadow, yet when I physically step into one, I can follow them while absorbed in their shadow.

And there's one more thing: the void. Well, my mum hasn't just popped out of the alley wall and given me an official name, but it's just an endless black expanse I can float in. I could disappear until the end of my days in the void if I wanted and no one would know. It sounds nice sometimes. Tempting, even.

I was all over the news: my face, my wings, my sword. I don't know when or where they were hiding, but I was stood next to Loki looking out across the soon to be chaotic city.

Due to the fact the Avengers claim I didn't do anything wrong and I was 'coerced' into doing it, the public just wanted to know who I am, something even the Avenger's didn't disclose, even if it was only the tip of the iceberg anyways.

Loki told me one name.

Azra, goddess of the shadows.

Greek goddess of the shadows.

My father always said I was named after her, but my dad must've altered it slightly so I couldn't find her if I looked her up.

For some reason, the information didn't hurt me, didn't make me yern to meet her, didn't make me angry. It just... was.

I'll admit, being able to put that I'm a demigod on my resumé sounds pretty cool but other than that, the knowledge didn't give me extra... powers. Powers? Can I call them that, or are they more like abilities? If I got them from my mother, then it's kind of my DNA.

But over these past months of me collecting my thoughts, there's one person I have to... thank? Acknowledge? I think he deserves a visit either way.

Tony Stark.

Tony's pov

"She left," Was all I said when Fury asked. We'd all seen the news: photos upon photos of this 'mystery angel'. I told the press she wasn't a danger but none us believe the public buy it.

For all we know, Azara could be planning world domination or mass genocide in a cave somewhere and we'd just told the world "she's a harmless kid, she just has family... issues". But I can't bring myself to believe she's doing anything bad. Dodgy? Maybe. Bad? No.

No one asks about her because they know that as soon as I find out it'll be all hands on deck to help her out. But deep down I know if she doesn't want to be found, she won't be.

I don't even know what I'd say to her. I don't even know why I care so much. I talked to her about three times, one of them was with Fury while interrogating her, the second time she barely said a word and the last... well, the last one spoke for itself. But I think it's because I relate to her. I relate to her story family wise and I need to prevent her from getting hurt like I did or getting persuaded into aiding a cause so much bigger than Ancestry.com ft. Loki.

Azara's pov

I take a deep breath, brush down my shirt and trousers and dissolve into the shadows, picturing exactly where I was the first time I entered Stark Tower.

Tony's facing away from me, whiskey in hand, deep in thought. The others are also sat or stood around in quiet conversation.

"I've got to say Mr Stark, I like what you've done with the place," they all spin to face me so quickly I'm surprised none of them got whiplash, "while I'll admit, last time I was here I wasn't exactly paying very close attention to the decor; the huge, gaping hole in the wall really opens up the space." I gesture towards where Thor had thrown his hammer at and the god shifts guiltily on his feet, muttering something about that 'he knows he needs to fix it'.

"Az-Azara!" The billionaire stutters.

"The one and only," I say, spreading my hands in a gesture of faux grandeur.

"Y-you left. I - we - didn't think we'd see you again," He stumbles over his words as he approaches me.

"Well, I'll admit this is a flying visit and I'll be off," his expression slightly dampens, "All I wanted to say was, uh... thank you, for, uh, talking some sense into me. I didn't want to fight you and all I wanted was to know what Loki knew about my mother. Where is he by the way, I mean to apologise for my betrayal. It wasn't a just cause, but it was a loyalty none the less."

"He's dead," Is all Thor says, the clouds outside turning a darker shade of grey.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," even I can't tell if that was genuine sympathy or just polite acknowledgement but Thor nods in thanks either way.

I feel an intense gaze on me from my right. Even more intense than Tony's.

"Agent Romanoff, we meet again," I give her a small smile and a nod.

She's a spy after all but her eyes betray her ever so slightly. A glimmers of... hope? No, why would she be hopeful? What is she hoping for? That I'll leave quickly so she can get back to her conversation? Probably. Her eyes set back to a stoney, vacant judgment and I can help but feel a little hurt that that's her greeting when I come in peace with a kind and genuine enough greeting.

I clear my throat, "Well, I'll be off, sorry to keep y'all but, uh, thanks again."

"W-why don't you stay? At least for dinner?" Tony offers kindly.

"That's a generous offer, thank you Mr Stark, but I have a plane to catch and I best not be late."

"Where will you go?" This time, surprisingly, Ms Romanoff speaks.

"London," Is all I say.

"Visit, please," Tony says, "you don't need to phone ahead just, uh, voodoo your way out of the wall," He says sincerely, with a kind smile.

"Thank you, Tony. And, uh, everyone, for keeping New York safe."

Tony looks like he's about to say something but I know I need to get going.

"Well, uh, see you guys around I guess," I smile at them, "I'll, um, use the door this time."

I turn and walk out quickly without another glance back and as soon as I'm out on the street below, I call a taxi and I'm away.

Tony's pov

I didn't get to say sorry for letting her go so freely into the hands of a madman. I didn't get to say sorry for not finding her and helping her find out who her mother is. I didn't get to say sorry for anything.

Her slightly worn and tired appearance wasn't hidden and her grin was weak and loose.

But she came back. I'd helped her a little bit and she'd promised it come back and visit. While London is a long way away and trying to convince me that she get a bulk standard 9 to 5 job is an impossible task, I pray that she won't do anything she'll regret.

Natasha's pov

Tony's shell shocked look said it all. We all knew he'd secretly been looking for any hint of her location and for her to just, as he so eloquently put it, 'voodoo herself out of the wall', was a surprise to all of us to say the least.

I imagined that the small probability of a visit from her would include a great deal of sarcastic and still quite bitter or even angered comments, and just be here to stoke the fire that little bit more. But she was polite and kind (not saying that she wasn't that before but... you know what I mean) and while her condolences towards Loki and her wish of apologising to him wasn't exactly something I thought she'd want to do, I understood where she came from - it was a loyalty and could grant her piece of mind.

Her greeting was also a surprise to me. She talked mainly to Tony and Thor and only seemed to acknowledge the fact the rest of us were even in Stark Tower and attentively listening with a small smile thrown out across the room.

But her greeting specifically to me was... nice. But it was exactly like the time she left the bridge on the helicarrier: her smile didn't quite reach her eyes, she seemed unhinged and not fully here.

To add to that, in my surprise to her greeting, I didn't really respond at all and she turned back to Tony with a slightly... hurt look? No, why would she be hurt? I know I didn't respond but it wasn't like we were really even friends. Merely acquaintances.

However, what struck me first was her appearance. She looked slightly disheveled and tired. Her leather jacket, ripped jeans, DMs and black, vintage Aerosmith shirt hung loosely on her lean yet still obviously muscular figure. Her dark brunette hair was slightly wavier than before and was tossed slightly over, in a sort of sexy, casual look. Sexy?! What am I saying (or thinking; I'd off myself if someone heard all this)?

Anyways, London. It's a nice place. I killed a few people there in a tourist kiosk and I picked up a few coupons and visitor booklets while I was at it; there looked like there was quite a lot to do.

I read her file and it said that she graduated university with a degree in architecture only days before Agent Coulson took her to the helicarrier. I'm sure she'll find something to do, even if working at and architectural firm seems a little too suburban for her.

I'm not entirely convinced she'll visit but Tony seemed incredibly optimistic and I could practically see the skip in his step as he went back to the kitchen so none of us wanted burst or deflate his bubble of hope.

I do wish we could talk though. Every time we have talked or merely acknowledged each other's existence, it's tainted by my default coldness and/or her not being exactly in the moment and lacking any sort of sarcasm and wit.

Azara's pov

The flight was smooth and on time; the only negative being the Casper the ghost white ass people clapping at the pilot doing their job when we landed.

I arrive at my small studio apartment in Tottenham and plonk myself down on the cold wooden floor. All my stuff fitted into 3 suitcases and a carry on because I sold everything else and the flat itself before leaving. I'm not sure what I'm meant to do now but I'm sure I'll work it out.

It's a fresh start.

A new chapter.

Hey guy wassup! That was a sort of a boring chapter I know but we've cleared the air and she's now in London (don't worry, I won't do a WandaVision and make the next nine chapters about domestic life).

Thanks again,

Much love, Shrimpward xx