Chapter 12: To the Rescue

Pietro woke up with a splitting headache. His hands and feet were tied and there was a strip of duct tape covering his mouth. He glanced around. He was lying on a hotel room floor, and standing over him was his captor – Charles.

"Oh good, you're awake."

Pietro tried to get his hands free to no avail.

"Would you look at this?" said Charles. "I caught an Avenger. And not just any Avenger. I caught the uncatchable Avenger. If my friends could see me now."

Having no luck freeing his hands, Pietro started inching toward the window. Maybe he would be able to escape by throwing himself out and... well, hopefully not dying. He'd barely made it a foot before Charles noticed and grabbed him.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere, boy," he snarled.

He pulled out a switchblade and snapped it open.

"The only reason you're still alive, Quicksilver, is because I wanted you to be awake when I killed you. I wanted you to feel yourself dying."

Pietro squirmed in Charles' grip; he'd felt himself dying once before and he didn't much fancy doing that again. Charles knelt down, pressing his knee into Pietro's chest to hold him still. Then he grabbed a fistful of Pietro's hair and forced his head back before holding the knife to his exposed throat. Pietro didn't dare struggle now. Even the slightest movement could send that cold blade dashing across his skin and drown him in his own blood.

"See, this is why I wanted to wait to kill you," said Charles. "For that fear in your eyes. You're absolutely terrified. Some superhero you are."

Just then, there was a loud bang and Charles looked up. In the reflection from the dresser mirror, Pietro could see Clint standing in the doorway, his bow held aloft and aimed at Charles.

"Let go of my boyfriend, you son of a bitch," Clint demanded.

Charles' grip tightened and Pietro felt the blade press harder against his throat, a sharp sting telling him it had broken skin. Clint didn't bother with a second warning. He let loose the bowstring and sent the arrow straight into Charles' neck. Charles fell backwards, spasming in pain before going still. Clint rushed to Pietro's side. He ripped away the duct tape, then drew a knife and cut his bonds. He pulled Pietro into his arms and kissed him desperately.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Pietro.

Clint still looked freaked out, holding Pietro's face in his hands while his eyes darted all over, checking for injuries.

"Clint, it's okay, I'm not hurt," Pietro said. "We did it, he's dead."

"We're not finished yet," said Clint. "Charles wasn't working alone."

"What?"

"He had an accomplice, and on top of that, there's a second bomb," Clint explained. "The rest of the Avengers are on their way, I called them while I was stuck in the dumbwaiter, but I don't think they'll be able to get here in time. We've gotta get to that bomber."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Pietro said.

Clint stood up and helped Pietro to his feet, then they hurried out into the hall.

"Wait!" said Pietro, stopping suddenly. "What if we can't get there in time? What about all the people in the hotel?"

"Shit..."

Clint glanced around, then went and pulled the fire alarm on the opposite wall.

"There we go. Easy evacuation," he said. "Now follow me."

They ran down the stairs, Pietro forcing himself to keep pace with Clint instead of rushing ahead. Finally, they reached the lobby.

"This way!" Clint said.

He led the way across the lobby and into the hotel bar, then gestured for Pietro to stop. Standing at the bar with her back to them was a woman. Clint nocked an arrow and raised his bow.

"Raise your hands and turn around," he ordered.

The woman obeyed and Pietro's heart dropped in horror. It was the bartender he'd talked to the night before.

"You!"