All right, the twins get their powers this chapter! And a little bonding occurs! Next chapter should be when Katia finds out about Hydra! Thank you again for all the feedback! Please continue to let me know what you're thinking.
"Ridley!" I wake up and raise my head. A paper is stuck to my cheek and I weakly pull it off. I hear Pietro laughing. "This is the fifth time in recent weeks I've found you asleep on your desk," Dr. List says. I rub my fingers over my face. "You're of no use to anybody if you don't get some proper rest."
"Yes sir," I mutter.
"Baron Von Strucker wanted you to lookout today but I don't know if you're up for it."
"I am." My voice cracks from exhaustion when I say this and Dr. List raises his eyebrows. "Do we have new shipments coming in?"
"A few more people for the scientific team. We're trying to get that shield going but there hasn't been much luck." In recent weeks, there has been a push for the ancient compound to be secured with a shield undetectable to outsiders. It reeks of desperation and makes me fear there may be an attack of some sort. I haven't been down in the city in months so I have no clue how the riots are going and therefore, can't comment on the threat level but it still seems rather useless to me. Does the weaponry Sokovia has available really demand this level of security?
"Why not power it with the scepter? It's doing everything else." Dr. List doesn't detect my sarcasm.
"That's the idea. Now go get some sleep."
"I was just asleep. I'll be all right."
"For how long? A couple of hours? I'm not clearing you for gun use until you've rested." I begin to protest but Dr. List throws up his hand, effectively cutting me off. "I will sedate you, Ridley. Go to bed."
"Okay but if Von Strucker wants to know why I've blown off his orders, I'm sending him to you," I reply. When I stand up, my back cracks and I moan. Dr. List gives me his version of an I-told-you-so look.
"He'd be even angrier if I let you do this and you end up shooting our own men." I half-laugh in response, as if that idea hasn't once crossed my mind.
After a wave to the twins, I head for my bunk and rest in a deep, dreamless sleep. It lasts no longer than a couple of hours. When I wake, I assemble my gun and head to an outer walkway. I'm not at the highest vantage point of the fortress, which makes me feel exposed. But the base is situated in a mountain range so I'm still farther up than the city. I get on my knees and put the point of my gun through a hole at the top of the wall (I believe Agent Smith called them "crenels"). And now I wait.
I get sent up here to survey the area every once and a while. I don't mind because there is something rather relaxing about being by myself with my gun, particularly in Sokovia. It's a beautiful place and up here, I can see it all. The mountains and the city. It's a nice reprieve from the way things are inside; dark with spotty florescent lighting. I never see anything of note, except an occasional car coming up the road to the compound, so there isn't much for me to do other than relax.
After a couple of minutes, I pull back and wrap my sweater around me tighter. It's starting to get cold and soon, it may snow. As I close one eye and stare through my scope at the valley below, my mind wanders to Pietro and Wanda. I wonder if they're cold. I should bring them blankets.
The twins and I have clicked. It's taken a couple of months for us to get to a point of "almost friendship" because both Wanda and Pietro seemed suspicious of me at first (as they are of the rest of my team). I can only assume that Von Strucker yelling at me in front of them once or twice (okay, a few times) has made them see that I'm not actually in a position of authority. But it could be little things, like sneaking them food and books, which they take graciously. Or maybe it's that I laugh at Pietro's jokes and ask Wanda to tell me Sokovian words for things (she's informed me that Sokovians actually speak a variant of Romanian).
Mostly, the three of us communicate through a language of looks and gestures. There's no open conversation, other than what we talk about when I check their vitals, so we've learned to talk in a different way. A raised eyebrow or shrug could be all we say to each other all day but I find that it's enough. Most of my expressions are ones of displeasure at various members of my team.
I'm just genuinely happy that they've taken to me. I wouldn't have, were I in their position. Here willingly or not, I would never see a girl who was working with the people experimenting on me as a friend. At most, I would be begrudgingly nice to her and do as she asks. I certainly wouldn't ask her how she's doing and try to make her laugh. But then, if I observed her doing the strange things I do on a regular basis, I might come to the conclusion that this girl is up to something… and I would want to know what that something is.
Since letting it go that I was messing with my GPS tracker, the twins have never reported anything suspicious they've seen me doing. I know they've watched me studying my map of the compound and circling ideal locations for extraction. They've seen me try to hack the computer on my desk time and time again. Wanda has even told me to be careful when I fiddle around with my chip. It's like these two have come to a mutual agreement to work with me without even speaking. I wonder if they've figured out that I'm trying to help them.
It's never been hidden that most of the other participants have died off from complications of the experiments (only five others are left). I beat myself up over that all the time but I know there's nothing I could have done. Without a solid plan and organization, there won't be saving a single person, let alone every Sokovian that volunteered. They've also all been through testing at this point so if something is going to happen to them, there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. But it doesn't help to think that I've missed multiple opportunities to save someone's life. I just want to make sure that if I try something, it at least has a small chance of being successful. Frankly, without the tracker working or ever accessing the mainframe, I'm up the creek. It would be suicide to round up the few Sokovians left and attempt to shoot my way out of the compound. I'm also constantly reminded that these people chose to be here. It doesn't matter to anyone but me if they hate it. As far as Von Strucker and everyone else is concerned, this is what they signed up for.
One day I'll figure it out, I tell myself as I pull my gun back from the wall. And I hope it's soon.
I go back down to the labs quickly and Dr. List pulls me aside before I can reach my desk.
"I've got great news," he says. The rest of his group of scientists are milling about around Wanda's cell, oohing and ahhing. I know what he's going to tell me and I start to feel nauseous. "I didn't say anything earlier because I wanted to be sure but Wanda has begun exhibiting utterly amazing abilities."
"Amazing?" I question in a small voice. Some of the others gained powers before dying. Their condition would deteriorate rapidly after that with no explanation or prayer of slowing it down. Wanda's strong though. She's survived whatever hell they've put her through.
"She's incredible!" he declares. "As of this moment, none of us know the extent of what she can do but it's safe to say she's got some telekinesis and mental capabilities."
"Mental capabilities?" I parrot. I feel glued to the floor, worry bouncing around in my stomach. "Are you talking mind reading?"
He laughs and replies, "Frankly, I'm not sure! She could do any and everything for all we know."
I make myself say, "That's fantastic," even though I fear I may be sick. Play along, Katia.
"She's by far the most successful subject. I have hope that her brother will prove just as lucrative." Lucrative? Did he just call a boy "lucrative?" Unconsciously, my hands fold into fists. Deck him, a part of me screams. "Don't be surprised if you have some company tonight, Ridley. Everyone will want to see her."
Every time I begin to think that Dr. List isn't all that bad, he does something that proves me extremely wrong.
Instead of going to my desk, I walk over to Pietro's room. I lean against the glass wall between us and he glances at me from the end of his bed. Neither of us is happy with this arrangement. I've always heard twins are abnormally close and the Maximoffs are no exception. I know they must be orphans because whose parents would stand by and let their children do this kind of thing? So they are closer than standard twins. They only have each other. And me, I think. Whether they know it or not, they have me.
At that thought, I tell the scientists and agents meandering in front of Wanda's cell to move on and let her rest. None of them acts like they're going to listen to me but at a nod from Dr. List, they disperse. Pietro gives me a grateful look but he doesn't thank me for it. I don't have to have "mental capabilities" to understand that he wants to be the one standing up for her. Unfortunately, I'm the one in the position to help her, not him.
I want to ask Wanda how she's doing, if she feels okay, but I don't get the chance. Agents Basso and Smith enter the large hallway of living quarters and desks. I throw one of my displeased looks to Pietro and head to sit at my table. This is going to be a long night.
Both Agent Basso and Agent Smith seem insulted that I was even allowed to be on this mission. Of course, that's the attitude of every person on this team, other than Dr. List, but with them, it's been particularly malicious. Antagonizing me is their favorite pastime. I wish I could say that I go right back at them with the same vitriol but then I'm the one that gets in trouble. I'd be surprised if Agent Smith or Basso has ever received more than a slap on the wrist from Von Strucker. They're like bullies from a high school that I never attended.
"What can she do?" I hear Smith say to Basso. They are standing in front of Wanda's cell. I recognize anxiety on her pretty face and my fingers curl around the edge of my desk. Play it cool, I command myself. It would be so incredibly simple to give them a piece of my mind but if I do that, they'll see it coming when I finally attempt to free the twins and everyone else.
"Apparently she can manipulate people's minds," Basso replies. He's flipping a butterfly knife open and closed rapidly.
"You mean she's telepathic?" Well, if she can read their minds, it's no wonder that Wanda looks concerned.
"That and a lot more." Even after working in the labs the past couple of months, I've never seen anything like the attention that's been shown to Wanda today. Either her powers are genuinely awe-inspiring or she's abnormally strong for this stage of the game. I hope it's a bit of both.
"Show us something!" Smith says to her. She flinches. My grey eyes shift to Pietro's cell and he is seething. So am I.
"She's been showing off for hours," I interrupt. "She needs to rest up. Doctor's orders." Not true but what do they know?
"Ridley!" Agent Basso exclaims, faking surprise. "We had no idea you were here! But we should have since you've proclaimed yourself the twins' bodyguard, haven't you?" Smith laughs in response and I feel my nails press into my palms.
I sarcastically laugh, even though that's pretty much exactly what I want to be. I don't want anyone to look at them sideways or say the wrong thing or experiment on them. From the moment my scope landed on them in the square, I've liked the introverted girl and her beautiful brother. While I've known from the beginning that Pietro and Wanda weren't the only Sokovians who agreed to be here, they've been the two I care the most about. Maybe I assume the adults knew what they were doing on some level, trickery or not. Maybe I just remember their anger and the way Pietro bumped into me and apologized. They are normal kids my age, with the life I might have had were it not for S.H.I.E.L.D. and it's hard not to like them.
"Bodyguard, no. Assistant to their physician, yes," I reply. Agent Basso snaps his butterfly knife closed and sets it on my desk, as if he needs both hands to decree that I'm a liar.
"Oh, come on, Ridley," says Smith. "You fall asleep at your desk every night and work with them every day. You're like their guard dog."
"Scruffy like one too," Basso mentions under his breath and they both chuckle. I shut my eyes. Done. I am so done.
"Think whatever you want but if you exhaust that girl's powers, you'll have to contend with Dr. List and Baron Von Strucker," I say. I make myself focus on Agents Basso and Smith rather than looking behind them at the twins. I don't know how they're reacting and I don't want to. They see me take this kind of thing a lot, honestly, but it doesn't make it any easier.
"Actually, Dr. List encouraged us to come down here." Damn. "Said she's a 'miracle' and everyone needs to see what she can do." They think they've got me.
"Yeah, she is but even 'miracles' need sleep so move on."
"What authority do you even have here, Ridley?" Agent Smith questions. "Aren't you the equivalent of an unpaid intern? Doing the things no one else wants to do?"
I stand up and cross my arms. "Well, I was chosen for this mission because I'm the best sharpshooter other than Clint Barton."
"God, I hate him," Smith mutters.
"Well, what are you without your gun?" Basso asks. Nothing, I think. A trigger finger attached to a threadbare girl. An annoyance to everyone. When I purse my lips, Agent Basso only smiles. "You've done nothing but ride on your daddy's coattails."
"And what was he? A Level Two?" They both laugh again.
"Very funny," I reply. "I've never heard that before."
"Look, we're just questioning why a kid would want to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. at all."
"At this point, me too," I whisper.
"Surely, you've got an aunt or a grandma or something."
"Oh no, Ridley's a lone wolf," Basso says. "She's got nobody but the agency. No friends, no family, no one." It feels like a knife twists in my gut. I've always been alone and I will always be alone.
"That's very true," I respond a little too quickly. "You're right… and I'm also right. Wanda is exhausted and I'm sure hearing your voices is only making it worse." Agent Basso steps away, jokingly offended. "And some of us actually have some work to do so I'll see you tomorrow."
"Have fun cleaning your gun, kid." Agent Smith acts like he's going to ruffle my hair and I duck him.
"Leave me alone, old man."
I'm absolutely relieved when they leave. I stand beside my table, eagerly waiting for the doors to the labs to close behind them. When I see the doors shut, I relax the fist that's been clutching my shirt and sigh.
"Sorry about all that," I say to them both, even though I'm only looking at Wanda. "Are you feeling okay?" When she nods, this time there is no uncertainty on her face. Instead, she seems to be looking at me as if she's just now seeing me for the first time. Maybe she can read minds. "Good. Well, I think I'll go to bed early tonight. I know. Can you believe it?"
I walk back towards my desk and notice that Agent Basso never picked up his butterfly knife. I grab it, run my fingers over its metal, and pocket it.
Pietro and Wanda don't say a word to me, though I can see small signs of pity in their expressions. Don't feel sorry for me, I mentally command them. I deserve this because I've stood by and let these things happen to you. A part of me questions what I could have done to save them sooner that wouldn't have resulted in failure but another part of me says that anything is better than idly watching, like I've done the past few months. If it failed, what does it matter? At least I'd know that I'd done what I could for them and the others.
Not for the first time, I wonder what I've done that's made them care for me. Without even a word said to each other, Wanda and Pietro have decided I'm worth being friends with. Perhaps I'm an easy target and they want the information I can give them. Maybe I'm the only other person their age that they know (the reciprocal is true for me). Or what if, simply, the explanation is that they want to continue participating and they're just sorry that I get kicked around.
I fitfully sleep in my bunk, tossing and turning. I pray that Wanda will survive this when no one else has and I wish that Pietro never develops powers. The next morning, I realize that my second request hasn't come true.
Never one to be outdone, Pietro develops abilities shortly after Wanda does. Today I stand with the group of gawking scientists and agents, watching him run across his room in a flash of blue. There are times when none of us even see him moving. I look at him all day, unaware of the comings and goings of others, absolutely mesmerized. When I step back and am able to see both cells, I can watch Wanda and Pietro at the same time. While Pietro just appears utterly caged in and eager to break out, Wanda seems curious, finally exercising her telekinesis. She switches between lifting things like blocks and books and tearing them apart. Every now and then, she looks my way and genuinely smiles. I find myself pondering whether she really can read minds and if indeed she can, what has she seen in mine?
Since I didn't get to check vitals this morning like I usually do, I have to check them now. I don't see the point in doing this every day because there are rarely any changes but I don't complain. For all I know, the Sokovians enjoy the opportunity to talk to someone who isn't taking them to a lab.
Pietro is my last stop because Wanda is being fawned over by Dr. List in the next room. He's not zipping around the room in a blur, which I'm grateful for. I open his door and walk in. I'm nervous to do this because I'm worried that these abilities will spell their deaths. But I'm going to do my best to not let onto that.
"How are you feeling?" I ask, running a hand through my brown hair.
"Good," he replies. "Really good." I quickly look him over and see nothing to worry about. He's the same as always, good looking and smiling.
"Great!" I say, dropping my little bag of medical supplies on the bed. I reach inside to get a couple of things. "I'll try to do this fast but-" I cut off when I notice that he's no longer sitting near me. I turn around quickly and see that Pietro is standing right behind me with his arms crossed. "I didn't even see you do that!" I exclaim.
"I know!" He laughs, which is an entirely magnificent sound, and grins down at me.
"I bet you're eager to stretch your legs, aren't you?" He nods. "I'll see what I can do about that." When I look up at him, he's still smiling, broad-shouldered and tall. "But first, let's get this over with."
"'Over with?'" he questions. "I am insulted." My lips curve into a smile.
"Well, I've got reheated pasta for dinner and I'm really looking forward to it."
"Ah, I understand," he says, sitting down in front of me.
"I guess we've finally got a reason for that quick pulse of yours, huh?" I say when he offers me his wrist.
"And you always thought I was going to have a heart attack, no?"
"I did," I respond with a laugh. "Nobody took that seriously." What else is new?
Pietro is quiet until I finish all my tests. As I take off the blood pressure cuff, he gazes up at me, blue eyes earnest, and says, "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," I respond skeptically. I wonder if he wants to see Wanda so that he can show off what he can do.
"Why are you working for these people?" His accented voice is so low that I can barely hear him. His tone isn't judgy. In fact, it sounds more like why-do-you-put-up-with-this. Dr. List walks by and Pietro quickly gives me his wrist so I can look like I have a reason for being here.
"I want to be S.H.I.E.L.D. because I want to help people." I can tell what he's going to say next so I tell him, "I know it doesn't look like that's what I'm doing but it's what I want to do."
"You did not know of the experiments," he replies, as if that makes it any better. I've still let them happen, begrudgingly or not.
"No," I say. "I thought S.H.I.E.L.D. was better than that." Again, there's a look of sympathy on his face, like I'm the one who's been suffering rather than he and his sister. "Why'd you ask?"
Pietro shrugs, playing it off, and the back of his fingers graze my forearm. "I just think you are too-"
"Young?" I interrupt. He flashes a brilliant smile at me.
"I was going to say 'pretty.' You are too pretty."
"And I would say you're very kind if I didn't know you were trying to save face." He laughs and I let go of his wrist. He looks down for a moment and I see a flash of white in his hair. "You know you've got a lock of grey hair?"
"Do not joke. I'm too young for that."
"No, I'm serious." I take the streak of white between my fingers and lift it. He looks at his reflection in the glass wall and appears rather shocked.
"It is nothing," he says, looking back at me.
I run the strand of silver through my fingers over and over, clenching my jaw. My mind flickers to the stolen butterfly knife in my jacket pocket. I could walk out of this cell, flip it open, and kill Dr. List. He would never see it coming. I've doubted my ability to kill in close quarters before but I know in my heart that I could do this. For a moment, I can even see it happening.
"Why does this make you angry?" Pietro asks. It makes me angry because you're innocent, because you were manipulated into being here with false promises, because you might be dying and there is nothing I can do to save you.
"You asked me a question. Can I ask you one?" He nods and doesn't tell me to stop twirling his hair around my fingers. I keep it between them, as if letting it go might give him some deadly disease. "What have they done to you?" I can tell he's going to question my meaning but I look at him, stare him right in those pretty blue eyes, and he understands what I'm asking.
"They have not told you?" I shake my head in response. "It is not… pleasant." My heart sinks because this is confirmation of everything I've feared. He doesn't want to talk about it. "I will not tell you. If you know, what difference would it make?"
I glance out of the glass door and see no one so I lean closer, letting his hair fall from my hand. "I can get you out of here," I whisper. "You and Wanda both. But it'll take some time and I need help."
His mouth curls into a smirk. "What sort of help?"
