Home is Where The Heart is

[The Vision]

Mr. Jarvis crossed his fingers and smiled warmly.

"Hello."

Centurion sat at the other end of the table. This was meant to be an interrogation room, one-way mirror, uncomfortable chairs and a stainless-steel table included. He was still in his power armor, twiddling his thumbs.

"Hi."

Mr. Jarvis pulled out folders from his briefcase (which Centurion had somehow not noticed before) and placed them on the table. He opened one of them, pulling out papers and pulling a pen from his inside pocket.

"Apologies," the butler smiled, "I'm old-fashioned."

Mr. Jarvis uncapped the pen, licking the tip. He shuffled in his seat.

"So," Mr. Jarvis said, "What is your name?"

"The Centurion."

"Your... real name?"

The adolescent continued to stare. He tipped his head sideways a little before replying, "Just the Centurion."

"Ah. Secret identity?"

"I'd like to think so."

Mr. Jarvis nodded, scribbling on his paper.

"Age?"

The Centurion looked at him. It was hard to read his expression under the mask, but Mr. Jarvis had an idea what he was thinking.

"Are you older than 18?"

"Yes," Centurion replied, "Though... does that matter anymore?"

"Little things, young man," Mr. Jarvis responded, "Any history of illnesses, physical or mental?"

"Counting injuries?"

"Especially injuries," Mr. Jarvis nodded, "But only injuries with long-lasting effects."

"Well, let's see, I broke my arm in this fight with an evil..."

***

"Some standard injuries," Dick Howland answered, "You know, bruises and things."

"Never diagnosed with more serious injuries?"

"Yes."

"And you were always cleared for combat?"

"Um," Dick paused, "Never had anyone check, but I should be fine."

"I see," Mr. Jarvis said, scribbling in his notes, "And what abilities do you have?"

"I can tap into a... a source of energy," Dick explained, "And uh... it helps me go faster... I become stronger..."

"And shoot lasers, if you will?"

"Yeah," Dick said, "Basically."

"What else?" Mr. Jarvis asked, scribbling in his notes.

***

Angel Fisher pursed her lips thoughtfully as Mr. Jarvis watched her. She brushed her cyan hair out of her eyes and looked away slightly. Mr. Jarvis breathed in deeply before speaking.

"Psychic."

"What makes you think that?" Angel's response was grumpy. "I just... know stuff about certain people."

Mr. Jarvis nodded, scribbling in his notes.

"I understand, Ms. Fisher, but that particular ability isn't unusual. We can have facilities installed for any potential of mental powers. I imagine Professor Xavier had shared some of these designs with Mr. Stark before-"

Mr. Jarvis looked up at Angel's confused face.

"Ah, of course," Mr. Jarvis nodded, "Anyways, what are your feelings on the Empire after this... predicament?"

***

"Predicament?" Centurion snapped, standing up, "They arrested us – for doing their jobs – and tortured us! They make money out of oppressing people. That's exactly the kind of people that need to be taken down. We need to destroy this- this- this corrupt- this evil- GAH"

Mr. Jarvis, a little worried for his safety as Centurion ranted, subtly put the Iron Butler armor on standby and scribbled in his notes.

***

"They still have Dust," Angel mourned, "How can they arrest Dust? He's like... I mean he's so..."

"Good?"

"He's the best at what he does," Angel concluded, "They- They SHOULDN'T BE ABLE TO CAPTURE HIM. I mean, Cade I understand. Under all that armor, he's just a cute cinnamon roll-"

"Pardon?"

"-but how could they capture an EMOTIONLESS KILLING MACHINE LIKE DUST?!"

Mr. Jarvis scribbled in his notes.

***

Dick scowled. "I guess... I don't like what I'm seeing."

"In that?"

"There's a lot of surveillance," Dick shrugged, "But, hey. If that's what the Empire thinks the people needs... I don't get involved in politics."

"But you were unjustly arrested by them, wouldn't you say?"

"Unjustly?" Dick said, "Maybe. But we're vigilantes. A place like this... It's understandable, in my opinion."

"You're not angry?"

"Not really," Dick shrugged.

Mr. Jarvis scribbled in his notes.

***

"And- And they blame it on the riot? What kind of sick bastards are-"

"Language, please."

"Sorry," Centurion said. The comment seemed to sober him a little. He sat down. "I get a little... riled up."

"I understand," Mr. Jarvis said, "Let's do a thought exercise. If you were to see agents of the Empire being oppressive toward others, and you were under direct – temporary, but direct – orders to not intervene from either me, the Moon Knight or the Vision... how would you react?"

"I'd stop them," Centurion said, matter-of-factly.

"What if we were in the middle of a sensitive, covert mission that would lead to dismantling the corrupt parts of the regime?"

"Parts? The whole Empire is corrupt. Everyone who benefits from it."

Mr. Jarvis cleared his throat. "Regardless. If you knew that your actions would ultimately hinder a more substantial delivery of justice?"

Centurion hesitated. "Then... Then I would have to let it go. But only if I were sure."

"And if you disagreed with our judgement?"

Centurion hesitated again. "Not my place."

Mr. Jarvis' eyebrows twitched as he scribbled in his notes.

***

"Oh, I'm not fighting."

Mr. Jarvis raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I was under the impression that you wished to join the team."

"Please,” Angel corrected, her attitude one of venom, “I’m just here to make sure Cade doesn’t get his butt into anything too dangerous for him to handle."

"Ah," Mr. Jarvis nodded, "Well, if the Centurion were to agree, then yes. Friends and family are allowed to stay in the mansion."

***

"Oh, totally," Centurion said, much more relaxed now that the difficult questions were over, "Angel stays with me. Not... Not with me. She'd get another room. I- you guys have other rooms, right?"

Mr. Jarvis smiled as he scribbled in his notes. Centurion leaned forward nervously.

"...right?"

***

"And what if we asked you to use lethal force?"

Dick scowled.

"I don't kill."

"If you had no other choice?"

"There is always another choice."

"That has not been my experience," Mr. Jarvis said bitterly, "Perhaps an individual has a dangerous ability that endangers the greater populace and cannot be contained. What would you do then?"

Dick shuffled uncomfortably. He didn't answer.

Mr. Jarvis scribbled in his notes.