AN: Well, fuck. That last chapter was a doozy. This one is not as long, but just as crazy. Read on, whoever out there is still reading.
Images raced across my mind, flashing rapidly. A yellow house in a dusty field. A red bicycle on the front porch. A green car in the driveway. A feeling of unease. The pinched face of a skinny woman with mousy brown hair. Fear, overwhelming and breathtaking. Blue sparks lighting up small hands. Larger hands touching, feeling, grabbing. More blue sparks. Pain. So much pain. Then grass and mud and dirt, and the faint smell of gasoline.
My eyes flickered open and for a brief moment I was filled with confusion, the smell of asphalt, gasoline and grass so strong, but my surroundings telling a wildly different story. Dark damp and small, it looked more like a dungeon than a field. I shook my head clear, wincing when a wound on my head pulled and began oozing blood. I tried to reach up to feel before the plastic ties on my wrists kept me down. Pulling experimentally I found them very tight and very unforgiving.
"Fuck," I murmured. The room was small and dark, but it seemed that at least for now I was alone. Shockingly, my panic level was a hell of a lot lower than I would've expected, though a nagging voice in my brain told me that the panic attack was coming, it was just a matter of time.
Taking stock while I could still be calm, I could feel the hard wooden chair beneath me, concrete beneath my feet. My dress was in worse condition than I remembered, tattered below the knee, my collar ripped and a sleeve missing. My head ached, the pain no longer localized to where I was bleeding. It seemed to radiate through my skull. Like a concussion, but ten times worse. Pain swelled before my mind flashed quickly, pulling me away from reality.
Blue sparks. Anger. Pain.
I shook my head again to clear it, feeling the throbbing subside for a moment. What the hell was that? Before I had time to consider, the door on the left swung open, and a large, stocky man all in black strode in. Fluorescent lights flickered on and I winced at the harsh light.
"Who are you? What am I doing here?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"We will ask the questions," the man replied in a thick Russian accent. "What do you know about Tony Stark's private Artificial Intelligence?"
"JARVIS? I don't know anything about JARVIS other than his name," I half-lied. I still didn't know how I brought him back online, my memories of the night were starting to blur together, chunks of them missing in a haze of blue.
"Obviously that is a lie. Our men say that you brought it back online in under 3 minutes. It took nearly three times as long to bring it down. Please Miss Samuels, cooperate or we will have to resort to extreme measures," I cringed, hoping that all they knew about me was my name.
"I swear to you, I know nothing about JARVIS. I just got lucky, I promise."
"Then why did you go down to the servers? How did you even know where they were?"
"I just pressed a button, I didn't know it would take me that far down. I was there for the party, that's all." I lied.
"Miss Samuels, I do not know who you think we are, but I can assure you, we are not fools. We know you. You are Captain America's woman, correct?" he spared a condescending smile with me, plucking a folder from the hands of one of the five goons that had followed him into the room. "The new one, who works in the craft shop on the lower east side. Lives at 402 Quincy St, Apartment 3C. Yes Miss Samuels, we know all about you." Terror raced through me, and I fought to keep my expression as impassive as possible, probably failing miserably.
"Then you know that it's only a matter of time until he finds you," I managed with hopefully convincing bravado. A large boom echoed from another part of the building. "In fact, I'd bet my sad little savings account that's him," I finished, mentally begging anyone or anything that I was right. The man barked out orders in Russian and the remaining guards scurried out of the room.
"You little whore," he spat out, slapping me hard across the face.
Pain. Blue Sparks, Anger.
I fought to keep my mind focused as he kicked the chair over. I hit the ground with a whack, smacking my head against concrete and fighting to stay conscious.
Anger. Pain. The roar of a motorcycle. Cold.
He pulled me up by my hair, dragging a knife out and against the skin of my neck. The door burst open and Steve stood in the doorway, all righteous anger and rage. I nearly crumpled in relief.
"Let her go now," he ordered, stern and strong.
"Oh no Captain. She is ours. And now so are you," Guards stormed Steve at the door, prodding him with an electric spear. He put up a fight, taking out two of them in the process, but six was too much. He was on his knees in seconds.
"Steve!" I screamed. Panic finally hit in full force, coursing through my body. The guards continued to beat him, stabbing him every so often to keep him down. His cries of anguish cut deep and I screamed in rage, and my vision faded to a funny shade of blue before everything went black.
Steve POV
Steve lay on the ground, fruitlessly trying to get up. He'd survived quite a lot with the serum, but the stabbing pain of the spears along with the shock kept him in a constant state of agony. He knew that the rest of the team was on their way, and for once he actually regretted jumping into trouble headfirst without them. Through the guards he could see glimpses of Charlotte straining against the man holding her. What he didn't see was her standing, knocking the chair out of the way as the plastic ties around her wrists melted. A shout of pain from the man holding her made the others pause and look away, giving Steve the chance to grab his shield and spring up, noticing the blue glow surrounding the guards around him. Looking around them, he saw that the glow was coming from Charlotte. Her small hands were covered in blue sparks that trailed up her arms. Charlotte's eyes glowed a piercing, otherworldly blue and the man holding her dropped her abruptly, cradling some kinds of burns on his hands. The glow grew in intensity as she stood, twin spheres of electrical energy enveloping her hands. For a brief second she made eye contact with him, though he recognized nothing of Charlotte in those ice blue eyes.
"Get down," she murmured, her voice echoing strangely. Breaking himself out of his trance, he brought up his shield seconds before a blast reverberated through the room, strong enough for the concrete walls to buckle. The guards around him dropped and the glow subsided. Steve stood up slowly, lowering his shield. Charlotte stood in the center of it all, her hands no longer glowing but sparking randomly. Her eyes had returned to green and she came back into herself, finally seeing the chaos around her. She looked up at Steve, her green eyes brimming with tears.
"Steve," she cried softly, her voice breaking before her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed.