I took parts of Hilarity Ensures by someone who I can't remember and the story isn't up on fan fiction anymore.
From Hilarity Ensures is different families. Darcy Lewis is a cousin to the Loser's Jake Jensen. They are the grandchildren of Steve Rogers. Jake is engaged to Loki, who has been redeemed. Darcy and Clint Barton are dating.
But in this story, Clint isn't dating Darcy. She is engaged to Bruce Banner.
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Once the men leave the room, locking the door, I sit up, wincing. It's a little difficult with my wrists handcuffed behind my back, but I succeed. Also my ankles are manacled together, with a six inch chain between them.
My heartbeats are sped up in fear. The heart is threatening to pop out of my chest, through the ribcage. Its pounding so loudly that I think everyone can hear it. My mouth dries, no volume for screaming or begging for no pain.
Instantly I know my life is going to drastically change. The crossroads coming up is going to decide which side of the road that the change will fall too; either good or bad. Though I know that if its bad, there will be lots of pain.
I don't know why the men kidnapped me. Only that they took me from my high school. They punched my left temple, dazing me. Before I could struggle, they had tied me up. Then I was put in a van and brought here.
Maneuvering around, I slide my wrists past my feet, bringing them in front of me. Easily I pull a bobby pin out of my hair, twisting the end about. My right hand shakes as I use the bobby pin to easily unlock my left handcuff.
When I was younger, my siblings and I used to tie each other up. We got very good at getting out of bonds. When my sister dated a police officer, she gave my brother and me a pair of handcuffs. It became easy to get out of them.
Soon, I have my left wrist unlocked. Setting the handcuffs down, I think about how to escape as I unlock my ankles. Done, I put the bobby pin back in my hair. My sky-blue eyes look around the room, hoping for a weapon, a phone, or something.
Oh my gosh! Laying on the ground, also beaten, is a light brown-haired man. He is either dead, unconscious, or faking. I would probably fake too if someone kept beating me up. He is in the shadows so its hard to see him.
Slowly I crawl over to him. He seems to notice that I'm not a bad guy, dark gray eyes hesitantly opening. I smile, not as big as usual, at him, wondering why he is here. All I know is that I have to make sure he's ok and take him out of here, safely.
That's my downfall. Whenever I see anyone hurt or injured, it tends to trigger an over-developed nurturing streak. One that my older sister said would get me hurt one day. Strangely it works on animals and people who make fun of me.
But there is something strange about this man, that goes further than my usual downfall. I want to make sure this man stays safe, keep him close to me, like an older brother. Nobody has made me feel this strongly since my family died.
Usually I hide from people. I don't like them looking at me for any length of time, touching me, or being behind me. Also I don't like being the center of attention. I've had these problems since I was a toddler but they've gotten worse since Them.
"If you unlock my cuffs, I will help you get out of here." He whispers in a deep growl-like voice that is more animal-like than human.
Strangely, I trust him completely. Usually it takes me months to trust anyone a little bit. I haven't trusted anyone this quickly or much since my family died. Usually I stay away from people, afraid of getting hurt or anything.
Getting the bobby pin out of my hair, I unlock his handcuffs. Doing the left one, I realize that his left hand seems to have some metallic coating or something. I plan on asking about it but his guarded expression stealing into my eyes stop me.
Something triggers in the back of my mind about the arm but I can't remember anything right now. I just shrug off the memory, getting back to his wrists. His eyes look at me, like I should know something but he doesn't say anything.
Once he's free, he stands up. His piercing eyes look down at me, since he's six foot five and muscular and not too slender. My cheeks redden, not usually liking anyone looking at me for any length of time or having anyone close to me.
"We are going to have to be quick, can you handle that?" He asks me, looking me up and down, with an older brother-like look.
"Um, I can't run very long. My body is still recovering." I admit, hanging my head in fear of what he'll do to me.
Because of Them, all the torture, and the burial, my body is slowly healing. It doesn't like a lot of physical activity, going unconscious if I do anything too much. I know that I can't run more than fifteen minutes at a time.
His left hand grabs my right wrist, easily lifting me up into a standing position. Firmly but gently he drags me along, heading for the door. Even though he isn't holding me tightly, I know that he could snap my wrist at any time.
I never really want to remember the details of the next half hour. He led me through the compound, trying to avoid detection and dealing with patrols when necessary. It had been fast and brutal, nothing pretty about it, but in the end, it saved me.
When we got outside, he stole a big pickup. Easily and quickly he got me into the middle of the front seat, with him driving. I laid down on the seat, resting my head on his lap, trusting him to keep us safe. His right hand brushes my hair, soothing me.
