Not Until We Are Lost

All of her things were in her room on the spaceship. In fact, there was an actual workspace. If she wasn't an alien abductee, Eleni might have been in Heaven. As it was, she went to work. She shook off the uncomfortable feeling that this was what they wanted her to do. If she could make an Ironman-or Ironwoman, maybe? She hadn't really figured out a codename... anyway, if she could make a suit, it wold be useful. Assuming that she was allowed to take it to whatever planet they went to next.

She already had the hand repulsor that she'd built back on the vampire bunny planet and she thought she had everything she needed to build something. She might not have had Jarvis, but she still had quite a bit to work with.

She spent days in her room punctuated by breaks to eat and sleep, when she remembered of course. She was just as singleminded as anyone else in her family once she got onto a project. And working on this meant that she didn't have the time to miss home or to worry about what the aliens had planned next.

She wasn't done by any means but she hit a point where her concentration was waning enough that she needed to stop and get a bite to eat. Her dad would have been done by now, wouldn't he? She tried not to think about that. There was a part of her that would always be trying to get out from under his shadow. In some ways, she envied Isaac for the fact that he'd chosen a different route. Of course, she knew that he cared just as much as she did about impressing their father and living up to him, even if Isaac wouldn't admit to it. They'd both spent their entire lives under big expectations and Isaac had probably gotten the worst of it, being the only male Stark heir.

Eleni filed those thoughts away and ventured out to the common area for some food. She still hadn't gotten over her interest in the replicator which meant that she kept ordering more and more complicated dishes just to see what the limit was. Just to see if she could stump the aliens running the device. She took a bite of her Galantine and let out a little exclamation of surprise. There was a second plate beside it with Baked Alaska which at least looked flawless. Yeah, she really didn't know how the aliens managed all of this.

When she woke up in the room, Sympathy was immediately frustrated. There was no bright sun, no sandy beach, no sound of water lovingly lapping at the earth. No wild cacophony of birds and other animals filling the salty air. She threw the pillows off of the bed - a bed that had been taken off her ship, not the Anna Cortez, but the Remorse - and stood up to promptly begin to break things that were strewn about her.

That's when she realized they were her things, and that the bed was hers, too. The clothing she was wearing were the ones she had first worn and not the modern attire she'd found on the Samhain/Savior's Birth planet, nor the strange garb from the black and white one, though she did find those when she looked in the great oak dresser. Everything she had acquired was there. Everything. Even the odd hair soaps.

And her weapons.

Sympathy enjoyed the warmth of the shower before dressing herself, a luxury that she'd gotten to know after her time with Dean Winchester and didn't know if she would ever be able to let go of now, and then strapped herself to the teeth with the knives and pistols she was used to carrying. The weight felt good. Familiar. The clothes moved with her body and made her relaxed.

But she was still upset about the loss of the island. The delicious fruits. Oddly, her rabbit water bags were hanging on a hook on the wall. She noticed this as she stared at what had to be the door. A thing she could not figure out.

"Open." She said gently to it. "Open, por favor."

Nothing.

"Open, now."

Nothing.

"Open, estupido. I need to get OUT."

Nothing.

"FUCKING OPEN, YOU PUTA MIERDA, LET ME THE HELL OUT!" She hit the door with the flat of her hand, and the resounding thunk that returned informed her that it was not something she could break through.