A/N: Hey guys, I'm back!I'm wanting to know if you all think that I characterised Kara right. Considering what she's been through and how much she's struggling. So review? J
Just so everyone who reads my fics knows, I'm having a lot of trouble with the document editing on this website. It keeps crashing every few minutes after I try to change or add something. So if this continues, I may update a lot less frequently, even if I have chapters written out. It just really bugs me, is all.
Thank you to LisaMichelle25 for your awesome skills at being my beta for this fic! :3
Thanks to Alkeni, annavale23, bellapaige88 and guest for your reviews! Guest who was confused – the jump between the chapters is because I didn't want to go over all the torture that Ruta subjects Ward and Agent 33 to, so Skye and Fitz are sitting in the aftermath of seeing that at the beginning of the last chapter.
WARNING: I may have forgotten to warn people about the torture that goes on, but I feel the need to make sure that everyone who doesn't want to read about it getting worse can skip the last part. TORTURE SCENES.
Disclaimers are going to cease unless I have OCs in the chapters, like this one.
DISCLAIMER: I only own this story line. Except for Cynthia and Kennet Madden, Elizabeth Rodkins and Ruta Svitryte.
Sorry, long A/N. Enjoy!
Sitting in an old alleyway near dusk, Agent 33 breathed slowly and deeply, ignoring the stench of the industrial bins a few feet from her. Lactic acid still burned in her muscles from her very recent avoidance of Hydra agents, and her wound had reopened. Again. Gradually, the stinging faded and she opened her eyes as her heartrate returned to normal.
"Sweetheart?" a voice called, startling the woman. She looked up in surprise to see a middle-aged woman, perhaps forty years old, standing in the middle of the alleyway with a black rubbish bag in her hands. She appeared to be concerned at someone sitting mostly hidden behind a bin, but once she saw the scar on Agent 33's face and her scared demeanour, her expression became one of pity. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"
Agent 33 didn't answer for a few minutes, the woman patient, but growing more concerned. She was afraid that this could be a Hydra ruse to take her back without alerting the authorities. Scanning the stranger's body from head to toe, she determined that the woman was untrained in any form of combat and her body structure was too thin to be of much use against 33 on her own. Although she was throwing out a full rubbish bag, and the question still remained; did anyone else know she was out here.
33 mused over that while also considering that the lady was probably a worker in a restaurant, and truly meant no harm. Deciding that if the woman had help to offer, it would be worth taking, she shook her head jerkily.
The woman shivered as a breeze swept through the alley, and she moved to deposit the rubbish into the bin, albeit with some difficulty. When she turned back to face 33, she found her on her feet and nervously running her fingers through her hair.
"Can you help me?" 33 asked in a small voice. The woman felt her heart break at the vulnerability in her tone.
"Of course I can, honey." She soothed. "Come on, the café's about to close, I can get you something to eat."
"Thank you." She whispered, stepping closer. Her movements were shaky, and filled with apprehension. The woman immediately assumed the worst. Leading 33 gently to the door, she let her inside and fetched a muffin while making her a coffee. She placed them in front of 33 as she sat her down in a window booth, smiling until 33 started pulling apart the muffin, leaving the coffee completely untouched.
"Sweetie, what are you doing?"
33 paused in her actions and looked up fearfully, expecting to find anger, but saw only worried confusion. "Pills." She muttered.
"I didn't put any pills in there. I baked that fresh this morning." She said firmly. "And the coffee I can taste if you think I poisoned it."
33 stopped pulling the muffin apart and nodded once. The woman deliberately slowly, took a decent mouthful of coffee and placed it back down.
"See? A normal cappuccino." She smiled and clasped her hands on the table on front of her as 33 carefully drank a sip, wrinkling her nose at the taste. "Have you had a cappuccino before?"
33 shook her head. "It's strange." She said quietly. A loud voice from the back room had her frozen in place.
"It's alright, sweetie, that's just my husband." The woman soothed, placing her hand on 33's shoulder. "I'll let him know why you're here." She stood and made her way behind the barista station. 33 forced herself to relax, and started nibbling on the muffin. Glancing out the window at the mostly empty street, she paid particular notice to the people walking past the abandoned apartment building across the street. Hearing footsteps behind her, she twisted to face the woman walking back with a gentle smile.
"No need to worry, honey. My husband understands why I'm helping you, and he's called the Women's Refuge for me. I don't have any place to help you overnight, but they do, alright?" she said as she sat back down. 33 nodded again as she placed another small piece of muffin in her mouth, her eyes being drawn to the name tag on the woman's chest.
"Your name's Cynthia?" she asked once she'd swallowed her tiny mouthful. Cynthia beamed and nodded herself.
"Yeah. Cynthia Madden. My husband's name is Kennet. What's your name?"
33 stilled again with her hands grasping the coffee cup. "I don't know." She whispered. She was on the cusp of tears as she was reminded of how much Whitehall had stripped from her. "I don't remember."
"Dear God." Cynthia breathed, composing herself as 33 looked up again. She leaned forward. "However terrible your trauma was, sweetheart, the Refuge can help. Do you have friends or family that may be looking for you?"
33 shrugged, clutching the cup like a lifeline when a light rap on the window startled her for the second time that night. Coffee spilled out of the cup, causing her to hiss when it hit her skin.
"Oh, dear! Here, use these." Cynthia handed her some paper napkins, dabbing up the spill on the table. "I'm sure she didn't mean to startle you, sweetie. That was the quickest way for her to let me know she's here. We lock the door after closing time."
"I've got the door, darling, don't you worry." Kennet Madden strode out from behind the counter, unlocked the door and let the stranger in. "Hi, Beth! How are you?" his warm greeting, coupled by his welcoming smile and friendly demeanour helped 33 relax somewhat.
"I'm alright myself, Kennet." The woman greeted with a small smile, hugging the man. "Evening, Cynthia. Hi." She turned to 33 and Cynthia at the table, the wet napkins shoved to one corner of the table. 33, however, wasn't looking at her. She was staring at Kennet with a slightly wide-eyed gaze.
"Can I help you?" he asked, rather uncomfortable with the attention.
"Ah…it's just, um…" she swallowed nervously. "I didn't expect Madden to be the surname of a black man."
The other three people in the bar laughed good-naturedly, alleviating the tension that had quickly built up. "My mother was a black woman." Kennet answered her unasked question. "And my father was white. They married in France, and hence my name became Kennet Madden."
"Oh." 33 didn't know what else to say, so she put some more muffin into her mouth.
"Sweetie," Cynthia began. "Beth here is from the Refuge."
"I'm Elizabeth Rodkins." Beth introduced herself. "Everyone calls me Beth. It's a tight-knit community."
"Hi." 33 said quietly. "I don't know what my name is."
Beth's smile faltered. "Well, how about you come with me? I can give you a bed and some breakfast in the morning and then we can talk when you're ready, okay?"
She nodded, grateful for the support. "Okay."
Ward had felt like he'd just drifted off when a painful burn on his torso brought him back to consciousness. Blinking awake to avoid more unnecessary pain, his vision swam with colours. He couldn't make anything out clearly, but there was definitely someone in front of him.
"Congratulations, Agent Ward." Ruta seethed. "Your companion managed to outwit my guards and escape, meaning that every time you give me an answer I don't like, I bring you another step closer to death." Ward swallowed, but couldn't quite seem to get anything down. "Are we clear?"
A whip to his face had Ward hurrying to nod, and his eyelids drifted shut again.
"Stay awake!" the command was accompanied by a punch to his gut. Ward let out an exhausted grunt and allowed his head to hang, still holding onto the chains above him with a death grip. However, that was starting to fade, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out.
"How about I keep it simple, huh?" Ruta had long abandoned her persuasion techniques, falling back on her cold, hard personality to get what she wanted. "Where is the S.H.I.E.L.D. base that you were imprisoned in?"
"I don't know." He rasped out. She hit him, leaving him gasping.
"Why do you have such loyalty to them? They hate you."
"I don't. I don't know where they are." He insisted, cringing. Please don't hit me, it's the truth.
"But you escaped." She persisted, stepping closer.
"From federal custody, on a clear stretch of road. Miles out. I don't know where they are."
She was quiet for a moment. "What if I were to tell you that Hydra found your precious Agent Skye? Would you tell us everything you know?"
Ward's eyes snapped up to meet hers, struggling to focus. No, no, no…she was furious before, Skye's safe. "You don't have her." He said after some moments.
"Not yet." She shrugged, relishing the agony those words were giving him. "It's only a matter of time. Hydra is everywhere, and I've already sent out the call." She stepped even closer, getting in his face. "So I'm going to make you an offer."
"No deal." No way am I going to work with you.
She laughed, as though she thought him an idiot. Which was probably the case. "It's not up for refusal. Either you can give me the information now, and I call off the hit. Or you can wait in this position until we have her, and then you give me everything. Either way I get the intel, but only one way saves your girl." This time, she backs up, until she's leaning against the wall. "So what will it be, Agent Ward? Will you be noble, and a hero?" She lowered her voice. "Or are you weak and worthless?"
Ward's breathing hitched. "I'm not weak." He gritted out.
"Ah." Ruta said in satisfaction, straightening up.
"I'm also not stupid." He cut her off. "You said only one way saves Skye. If you bring her in, and if I tell you everything, you'll still hurt her afterwards. Which means you also won't call off the hit."
Ruta smiled, but he couldn't see that. "I promise you, Agent Ward. I will let you and your dearly beloved be together. Safe."
Ward scoffed. "Yeah. Cause you're the type to keep a promise."
He didn't see the hit coming.