Batman x Ironman [Marvel]

Chapter 33: Morgan Stark



----[Flashback]----

Tony always said that everything she needed to know was in the details. He'd repeat it over and over in the workshop, showing Morgan how to trace every circuit and piece, emphasizing that understanding everything from the inside out was the difference between a "good job" and a masterpiece.

After he was gone, those words became all she had left of him. They lingered in the workshop, mixed with the scent of old metal and the faint traces of his cologne, clinging to the work jacket that still hung over the back of his chair. Every time she stepped into his lab, she could practically hear him: Everything you need is in the details, kid.

That thought drove her to fix his suit—the one he wore in his final battle, the one they brought back in pieces, broken and charred but still holding echoes of him. She was twelve when she started piecing it back together, working in secret when her mom was out of the house or asleep. She knew her mom wouldn't understand, wouldn't see why this mattered so much. Her mother had locked away his other suits and even restricted access to his workshop. But Morgan knew of a secret entrance her dad had made just for her.

At first, the task seemed insurmountable. Though she'd watched him work and he'd taught her some things, this suit was different, more intricate than anything she'd seen. Its wiring was layered with technology she could barely grasp, and the Infinity Stones had left strange marks across the armor, energy signatures that flared up when she touched certain parts. Using his old tools, with hands too small to grip them properly, she pressed on. She memorized every scorch mark, every cracked piece, feeling as if she were re-learning him through his work.

She'd spend hours examining the suit, touching it, trying to understand how he had built it, piece by piece. And sometimes, she'd find something small—a smudge where his fingers had gripped the arm, or an imprint of his hand. These details felt alive, as if they were fragments of him that weren't entirely gone.

One night, as she reconnected a section of his left gauntlet, something unexpected happened. She'd only just begun fixing a damaged wire when a blue spark ignited between her fingers, bright and pulsing. It was warm, buzzing softly in her veins, and it felt oddly familiar.

The spark traveled up her arm, through her chest, and settled like a quiet hum under her skin. For a moment, she thought she'd imagined it. But then, every light in the room flickered and dimmed, as if she'd somehow drained the energy from the workshop.

She froze, heart pounding, pulling her hand back and staring at her fingers. The light was gone, but the sensation remained—a strange, pulsing warmth, moving in waves through her veins. Tentatively, she reached out to the suit again, and the energy returned, humming softly under her touch.

"Dad?" she whispered, barely louder than a breath.

A faint thrum pulsed through the suit, as if in response. The energy felt alive, though she knew it wasn't really her father. But perhaps it was something he'd left behind, a trace of the Infinity Stones' power he'd absorbed in his final battle. She didn't know, but she was determined to find out.

Morgan told no one. She understood, even at twelve, that whatever had happened wasn't normal. It was her secret, a strange, hidden connection to her dad. And she intended to keep it safe.

Over the next few months, the energy wasn't just in the suit anymore—it was in her. It started small: a spark here and there, a faint tingle in her fingertips when she was upset or concentrating too hard. But soon, it became harder to control. Sometimes, her whole body would pulse with energy, faintly glowing veins appearing on her skin. Once, she accidentally shattered a glass in her hand just by gripping it too tightly.

She tried to manage it alone, hiding it from her mom, who already had enough to worry about. But the energy only grew stronger, building up like a storm she couldn't escape. She went back to the suit, hoping it might help her control it, and each time she touched it, the energy responded, mingling with her own.

One night, she was trying to stabilize the reactor core, carefully re-wiring a section of the suit's chest plate. But as she worked, she felt the energy flare up inside her, more powerful than ever before. It moved as if it had a will of its own, racing through her veins. Before she knew it, blue light crackled around her, sparking from her fingertips and latching onto the suit.

In an instant, the entire workshop plunged into darkness, and a powerful shockwave shot out from her hands, slamming her back against the wall. Dazed, she lay there, feeling as if the energy had torn something open inside her. When she tried to sit up, her vision blurred, and the world began to spin.

Then she heard his voice.

"Morgan…"

It was soft, barely there, but unmistakable. It was him. Her father. She didn't care if it was a hallucination or something else; she missed him.

"Dad?" she whispered, clinging to consciousness. "Is it really you?"

The voice faded, slipping away like mist, but the warmth lingered, pressing against her heart. Even in the darkness, she felt safe. Somehow, he was with her, and he always would be.

After that night, everything changed. She didn't just have energy inside her—she had power. For almost four years, she managed to suppress it, but she could feel it building, struggling to break free.

Sometimes, she'd wake up in the middle of the night, her entire body glowing, the energy radiating out uncontrollably. It grew so intense that she'd burn holes through her blankets, leave scorch marks on the walls, and once even shattered the floor beneath her. But then something unexpected happened—when she waved her hand, a bright green light would emerge, and everything would repair itself as if nothing had happened at all.

It was incredible and terrifying all at once.

After weeks of poring over Tony's notes and research logs, Morgan finally pieced together what she'd only suspected. The power inside her was more than just strange energy—it was residual Infinity energy, traces left over from her dad's suit. The thought made her uneasy and exhilarated all at once. But it didn't matter how she felt about it; she couldn't just ignore it. She needed to understand it, to control it.

And so, she decided to train herself, practicing in secret. The abandoned training ground her dad used to test his suits and weapons became her sanctuary. Shielded by dense walls and state-of-the-art security measures, it was the only place safe enough to let loose. Besides, no one had time to look for her. Everyone was busy with the Mutant War—a conflict that had swallowed up the world's attention, pulling in heroes and politicians alike. She didn't have to worry about her mom or anyone else noticing her absence.

At first, controlling the energy was like trying to grab smoke. She could feel it pulsing through her veins, but it was wild, unpredictable, prone to flare up whenever her emotions spiked. But over time, she learned how to harness it, drawing the energy out in waves, bending it to her will. She discovered that she could manipulate reality itself within a certain radius around her, warping objects, distorting distances, even twisting light and sound. She tested her strength too, marveling at how effortlessly she could lift objects that once seemed immovable.

Her confidence grew with each session, and she began to wonder if she could make a difference. Maybe, with enough control, she could end the war herself. She thought of the heroes her dad had talked about, the stories he used to tell her. The idea of becoming one of them felt like a distant dream, but it was a dream she wanted to chase.

One evening, as she was practicing creating small energy barriers and testing her newfound strength, the familiar hum of a vehicle interrupted her focus. The hidden entrance to the training ground hissed open, and she whirled around to see two figures silhouetted in the doorway—Nick Fury and her mom, Pepper Potts.

They stepped into the room, their eyes scanning the scene. Morgan froze, feeling a rush of emotions—fear, confusion, and a strange sense of betrayal. Fury's gaze was calculating, his one good eye assessing her without a word, while Pepper's expression was a mix of shock and something deeper, something close to sorrow.

Morgan's last sight of her mother was one of quiet anguish, but the moment was short-lived. Without any warning, Fury aimed and fired a sedative dart straight at her. She had a fraction of a second to react, to tap into the power she'd trained so hard to control. But the sight of her mom held her back, fearing that an uncontrolled surge might hurt her.

The sedative hit, and the energy she'd summoned fizzled out as her vision blurred, her body swaying before everything went black.

When she came to, she was in darkness, her body numb and cold. She couldn't move. As her senses began to adjust, she realized she was encased in some kind of glass tube, bound by restraints that were tight around her wrists and ankles. Cold wires and metal clamps attached to her skin kept her power contained, but every time she attempted to summon even a small spark, the machinery shocked her with intense pain. The first few times, she thought she could fight it, grit her teeth, and power through, but the electricity surged, leaving her writhing in silent agony, her scream echoing only in her mind.

She tried over and over, counting the seconds, days, weeks—until she lost track. At first, Morgan thought someone would come to release her, that this was some test or security measure that had gone too far. She waited for her mom to appear, for anyone to tell her this was a misunderstanding. But no one came, and the days stretched on, blending together until they lost meaning.

She stopped trying to fight the restraints, and stopped reaching for her powers, which now only brought pain. Instead, she slipped into silence, a fragile truce with her imprisonment. She could hear voices outside her confinement now and then, snippets of conversations between scientists and agents, discussing her as though she were some experiment, as though she weren't even there.

"Subject remains stable, showing no signs of power fluctuation."

"Do you think she's given up? Or is it just the sedatives?"

"It doesn't matter. As long as she's contained, she won't be a threat."

"Didn't we scan that suit back then?"

"Yup! Someone slipped up."

"To think, it had residual energy... Such a horrible fate for a bright kid. Sometimes I wonder if we are doing the right thing."

"Shut up, and do your job. It's not for us to think what's right or wrong. We are just workers. Nothing more, nothing less."

Threat. That word cut deep. In her isolation, it was easy to lose hope, to forget the dream she'd once held of becoming someone who could help, who could make a difference. Her father's words echoed dimly in her memory, but even they began to fade, dulled by the ceaseless cold and the silence that wrapped around her like a shroud.

One day, she found herself staring blankly at her reflection in the glass. She hardly recognized the girl she saw, her face pale, her hair limp and tangled. She felt hollow, empty, like she was disappearing.

Years passed, though she couldn't say how many. She gave up counting, gave up trying to break free. Somewhere, deep inside, she buried her memories of warmth, of love, of the dream her dad had left her. She became like the silence around her—cold, still, and dark.

[Present time]

But... Today something changed...

Today, she heard a long-forgotten voice—the voice of her father—and it wasn't just in her head this time. She thought it was just another dream but when was the last time she dreamt? She slightly opened her tired eyes and saw her dad, just outside the glass.

He was angry... And sad...

"What did they do to you, Morgan?" Bruce asked.

He looked back and released his heat vision, piercing through Fury's knees. The man let out a cry of pain as he dropped to the ground, clutching his knee.

"Argg..." He cried out in pain as Bruce approached him. He was trying to get up, but Bruce kept coming closer.

"Why is she in that tube?" Bruce asked, pointing a finger at Morgan.

Fury swallowed hard, looking at the man in front of him.

"After the snap, just like your body, the stones left marks on your suit. Morgan was affected by it. So, we had no other choice but to help her survive. That thing is the only thing keeping her alive. Outside that, her unstable power would have killed her by now," Fury answered mixing truth with lies. He knew that Bruce... Tony... He was in an emotional state and would prefer the safety of her daughter at any cost. So, Fury tried to utilize his weak emotional state.

'NO! HE'S LYING!' Morgan wanted to yell, but couldn't. Her eyes then fell on Pepper. 'SHE WAS ALSO THERE. SHE WAS WITH FURY.'

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AN: Was it too much? They did her and Tony dirty. Those bastards.

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AN: Too much work to do this last month. LOL>< 


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