Either this was a scary coincidence, or Bruce was lying. I leaned towards the latter, but the man's face said otherwise. "You mean…you were part of the Specials Ward Project, too?" I whispered, glancing around nervously.
Bruce frowned. "The what?" Shit. I had assumed he came from the same background as me. Why else would one be hiding from S.H.I.E.L.D.? The only other option was if Bruce had done something horrible to make the highest security administration in the world come after him. I swallowed hard. Then again, he had said he had connections…
"Tate." Bruce interrupted me from my thoughts. "What is the Specials Ward Project?"
"It's nothing," I murmured, looking down at the floor again. "Why are you hiding from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"
"That's not important. Your health is more important than –" Bruce began, but I cut him off.
"Hardly. I'm just a stranger from the streets. Why do you want to help me so much?" I inquired, staring at Bruce hard in those honest, blue eyes. There was a short silence before the doctor responded.
"First off, I've never seen such severe scarring, and I haven't even seen your lungs yet. Hell, I haven't even heard of a condition that causes that kind of damage. Second, you are somehow connected to S.H.I.E.L.D. and this 'Specials Ward Project', and I plan on finding out how, whether you like it or not."
"Well, I hate to burst your bubble doc, but I'm not allowed within range of the contiguous United States, unless I want to have my head blown off by the first S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who comes within a mile of me."
Bruce ran a hand through is hair, looking troubled. "I don't believe S.H.I.E.L.D. would do something like that, no matter what kind of trouble you're supposedly in."
"You obviously don't know S.H.I.E.L.D. very well, then. Dr. Banner, I am a wanted escapee. A refugee. There's no way S.H.I.E.L.D. would ever let me live if I were to return."
"You're not going to live either way!" Bruce yelled, his calm exterior wearing thin. He paused, took a deep breath, and looked at me again. "I'm sorry. I have a short temper. It's really my fear for your life that lights my fuse."
"I still don't understand why you care so much about my life," I murmured, suddenly feeling exhausted by the conversation, which was obviously going nowhere. I sat back down on the bed, rubbing my neck with one hand.
"I'll tell you on the way to the airport. I have a jet waiting." Bruce sounded uncomfortable, as if the words he spoke didn't fit in his mouth right. I gaped. "I called to have it arranged when you were out." He grabbed a worn duffle bag from the foot of the bed that I hadn't noticed before.
No. No, no, no. Fear overcame me, knowing that the moment I set foot in America, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be on my ass in an instant. I took a half step back, swung around on my heel, and darted out the doorway. Little did I know, there was an army truck parked right outside. The driver, a man with graying hair in full military uniform, hopped out of the front seat. "Ms. Mes, correct? I'm Sergeant John Banks, I'll be taking you and Dr. Banner to the airport tonight. If –" He began. I didn't stay to hear the rest. I started sprinting has hard and fast as I could.
I thought as quickly as I could, which wasn't very fast considering I was having a panic attack. I had to get where there were hardly any roads and a lot of people. Suddenly, it hit me that I had no idea where I was going. I had never been to this area of Calcutta, even though it appeared to be a spot just outside the center of the city. I had no idea where I was going, but I still ran.
The effect was immediate. My lungs were on fire, and I felt blood trickle out of both nostrils into my mouth. My breath was raspy and withered. I hadn't even been running for a minute. My legs felt like they weren't attached to my body. I stumbled one, two times. People, homes and businesses became flashes of light and color in the moonlit night. Then, I heard the roaring engine of a large vehicle behind me. No. No. No. No. No. It was like a chant in my head.
I tripped, on what, I know not. I flew headfirst into the gravel road, clinging my arms to my chest as I curled into a fetal position. I vomited a fountain of red into the dried grass. I heard footsteps and desperately tried to scramble away, but a pair of hands caught me. No. No. No. No. No. I hadn't realized I was saying this out loud.
"It's okay, Tate. It's okay. I promise. You're safe. You're safe." I heard Bruce's soothing voice over the ringing and roaring in my ears. I slumped into his arms, giving in, giving up. With the doctor's support, I climbed into the back of the SUV, where Bruce helped me into a lying position. I felt him remove my corset and jacket. My sense of reality slipped in and out of grasp, and when Bruce spoke again, his words were slurred. "I'm going to give you something to help you relax. You may fall asleep. Just take a deep breath through your mouth – there. Done."
It wasn't long before I felt my muscles give way to the medicine, and my eyelids felt heavy. Before I knew it, the darkness took over, and sleep overcame me.
"…and that's how I found her. Blood everywhere…so much of it. I can't believe she's still alive."
"How do you think she ended up like this? Genetic disorder, maybe?"
"Maybe. She kept mentioning S.H.I.E.L.D. and something called the Specials Ward Project. Have you heard of it?"
"Never. And you know how Fury keeps me updated. Are you sure she's mentally stable?"
"…No. There's evident post-traumatic stress. I couldn't even get near her when she was conscious. She is competent, though, if that's what you're asking."
"I trust your deduction, Dr. Banner. Do you think she was a test subject or something?"
"Tested on…tortured…I don't know. It will take time to get information. For now, her physical health is my main concern."
"Then are you sure taking her to the tower is the best choice? Why not a hospital, one that S.H.I.E.L.D. owns?"
"She said S.H.I.E.L.D. was after her, so I'm not taking any chances. Anyways, Tony owes me one, and he has the best technology. So, yes…"
My eyes flew open, and my body jumped. A nightmare. Slowly, I took in my surroundings. I was in some kind of reclined seat, with similar seats in upright positions in sporadic locations around the room. The whirring sound of an engine hit my ears, and I noticed the familiar square windows. An airplane?
I made a move to sit up, but something tugged at my face and arm. I glanced down. A single IV line was in my hand. It was attached to a bag filled with clear liquid hanging from a hook. I glanced at my reflection in the plane window. Taped to my face was an oxygen line; two tubes were inserted a small ways into my nostrils. My eyes looked gaunt and ghastly, my cheekbones sunken in. My hair was stringy and sweaty, slicked back with the moisture. I hadn't really looked in a mirror in who knows how long in India; however, my appearances did not surprise me.
"Tate. You're awake." A voice startled me out of my stare, and I whipped my head around to find Bruce standing next to me.
"Your shirt is blue," I croaked, the words rasping against my throat.
Bruce looked confused. "What?"
"I thought we were stating the obvious." I coughed, laying back in the chair.
Bruce chuckled once, then knelt down to my level. I stared blankly at the overhead fans, which were blowing a soft, cool air onto my face. It was strange, coming from living on the streets in Calcutta to being on a luxury jet. All that had happened in the past day was overwhelming. I shut my eyes against the memories. "How are you feeling?"
"Fantastic."
"I was born in Paris."
"What?"
"I thought we were stating lies."
I opened my eyes, rolling them. "I feel like shit. How do you expect me to feel?" I snapped.
"I mean, what symptoms are you experiencing?" My tone did not seem to affect Bruce as he ignored my attitude.
"Well…my throat and chest don't burn as much, but it's still sore. It feels like I've lost my voice."
"The IV is a line for morphine. It's all I have available at the moment, but I'm hoping to get you started on antibiotics as soon as we get to the tower."
"Tower?" I wondered aloud.
"I have some…friends there. Technology. It's one of the safest places in the world, so you don't have to worry about that." Bruce sounded as if he was explaining things to a small child. I was probably as frail as one.
I nodded once, then suddenly remembered something. "You said you were going to tell me why you care so much about my life."
A look of sadness and pity came across Bruce's eyes, then disappeared. "Well…I care so much because you remind me of how I once was." This confession was followed by silence. I wasn't sure how to take that, but I could only wonder about Bruce's past. He hadn't heard of the Specials Ward Project, so how else could he empathize with such pain and torture?
A female's voice suddenly came over the intercom. "Dr. Banner, we will be landing in New York in approximately five minutes. The time is about twelve hundred hours and forty-four minutes. We're looking at a clear and steady landing."
"Thank you, Clarrise," Bruce responded. New York? Had it really been that long since I had been chased down by Bruce and Sergeant Banks? "Once we land, we're going to take a car to A Tower. I promise that you'll be completely safe and secure the entire time."
I nodded again as the plane began to descend. Here goes nothing.