A/N: Before we begin- there's some dark subject matter in this chapter. Please take care of yourself and be aware of your triggers. Also! I posted a one-shot of the Boy's POV from the last chapter. It's called "The Girl's Night" and it's available for y'all to read on my profile!
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Rather than take the two hour car ride into the city, the girls elected to "cheat"- that is, Natasha "commandeered" a quinjet and they flew to the tower before taking a limo to the club. Rose, who hand never been in a plane or a limo, spent the entire time either plastered to the window or digging through all of the compartments of the car.
There were so many buttons.
And a stripper pole.
Sammy, who'd had about an entire bottle of scotch at this point, spent the ride to the club giving everyone lap dances and twerking aggressively on the pole. It was simultaneously one of the most attractive and terrifying things she'd ever seen (which basically summed up all of the women in the limo). Rather than try and get the woman to calm down, it soon turned into a competition with each woman getting up and doing more and more outlandish dance moves. Emboldened by the lively atmosphere, even Rose joined in. When she got up and awkwardly shimmied against the pole the entire car went insane, cheering and hooting as she wiggled, a huge smile on her face. As soon as she finished, she found herself pulled into Darcy's lap, the brunette cackling with glee before she placed a smacking kiss on her cheek.
"Rosie! I'm so proud!" Rose snorted at her exuberance, batting at her hands when the other woman pulled a dollar bill out of her bra and tried to shove it down her dress. "Hey! I'm just trying to tip you for a job well done!" Before the blonde could get too pissed (she was seriously considering biting her), the dollar bill was snatched out of her hand by a smirking Athena. The dark skinned woman daintily placed the cash in her bra strap before gracefully getting to her feet and stalking to the pole. Just about everyone expected another awkward show like the one Rose had just given.
What they weren't expecting, was for the programmer to immediately launch into a routine fit for the US Pole Dance Championship.
Sammy was the only one unsurprised, the red head cackling at the gaping faces of the other women in the car before gleefully throwing another bag of gummy bears at her best friend. Athena caught the bag with a flourish, ripping it open and shoving a handful in her mouth. Taking in the shocked face of her friends, the pastel haired woman shrugged, giving them a dry look.
"College is expensive." There was a pause as everyone took in her statement before Jane nodded solemnly, raising the margarita she'd been nursing in a conciliatory toast.
"Preach, girl."
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Located just a couple of blocks from the tower, "Lux" was one of the newest, most exclusive clubs in Manhattan. It was a three story, modern establishment done up in sleek, shiny metal and black leather. The dance floor and standing tables made up the first two floors, with VIP booths on the top floor. The line to get in stretched well around the block, music pulsing from the walls like the building had its own heartbeat. Rose had eyed the long line with no little amount of despair, silently resigning herself to melting off all of her makeup in the heat of the New York summer. However, rather than get in line, Athena dragged them all passed it and headed directly for the bouncer situated menacingly in front of the door. The bouncer, a Hispanic woman decked out completely in leather, gave them a decidedly unamused face, eyeing each of them like they were particularly irritating rodents. Athena ignored the look, giving the shorter woman an equally dry look.
"Tell Lucian that Athena is here to see him." The unamused look the bouncer was sporting disappeared, a considering look taking its place as she gave the dark skinned woman a slow, head to toe look. After a moment she murmured something into her headset, a sharp grin on her face as she lounged against the doorway. About a minute later, the door behind her opened and one of the most beautiful men Rose had ever seen stepped out.
He looked to be about six foot, his swimmer's build covered by a finely tailored, all black suit. The sharp line of his square jaw had a thin layer of neatly trimmed stubble on it, contouring his thin face and accentuating the aquiline shape of his nose. His dark hair and equally dark eyes gave him a debonair air, thin lips curled in a small smirk as he stepped through the door, like he was hiding a particularly devilish secret or had just finished doing something deliciously naughty. When he caught sight of Athena the smirk disappeared, a beaming grin appearing on his face as he reached forward to pull the dark skinned woman into a loose hug. To Rose's shock, the programmer went willingly (if not a little stiffly) into his arms, her face the picture of fond resignation. After a second he pulled back, giving the pastel haired woman a head to toe look, dark eyes glinting mischievously.
"Athena! Darling!" His British accent made the endearment nearly decadent, the baritone of his voice a teasing purr. "You're looking particularly colorful tonight- trying to be seen from space?" Athena gave him a dry look, sniffing exaggeratedly.
"Lucian. You smell like a brothel. I'd ask who you were sleeping with, but I'm afraid we'd be here all night." Lucian gave a delighted cackle, squeezing her arms fondly before releasing the pastel haired woman to eye her friends.
"Having a 'Girl's Night' are we? I'm surprised you have any friends." Athena scowled at him, reaching to smack the man, but found herself slapping at air when the much taller man nimbly dodged the swat. Lucian raised his hands in surrender, a sinful smile on his face as he took in the ensemble of amused women. "Well, Athena? Are you going to introduce me to these lovely creatures?" The programmer snorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"That depends, are you going to actually let us in or just stand out here yowling like a cat in heat?" Lucian opened his mouth, looking for all the world like he was going to say something particularly dirty, but was cut off by Athena rolling her eyes and continuing. "Don't answer that. This is Sam, Darcy, Jane, Natasha, Wanda, and Rose. They're off limits." At the defensive hiss the dark haired man gave an exaggerated pout, eyes dramatically wounded.
"Athena- you don't have to be so terribly mean. I'll have you know I'm a consummate gentleman." Athena gave him a dry look, opening her mouth like she was going to list why exactly that statement was absolute bull shit, only to find herself interrupted by Lucian. "To prove it, I'll be personally escorting you to my private booth." He gave them all a charming smile, absently adjusting the odd, pinecone shaped cufflinks on his suit jacket. "And- and this is the most important part- all drinks are on the house." The women, barring Athena, let out delighted cheers, shouting their thanks to the dark haired man. Lucien's grin widened in response, dark eyes glinting sinfully as he gave a dramatic bow before reaching behind himself to open the club doors. Immediately, a wall of sound burst out, nearly deafening Rose with the intensity. Voice blatantly proud, Lucien beckoned them into the bright lights of the club.
"Ladies, welcome to 'Lux'."
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Rose regretted all of her life choices. As much fun as getting ready for the club and the car ride over was, she'd forgotten one important fact.
She hated clubs.
Just about everything about them made them as close to hell as she was likely to get (at least while alive). There was people everywhere, all of them reeking of body odor and too strong perfume, the press of their bodies rubbing against her sensitive skin like sandpaper across her flesh. The noise was deafening and migraine inducing, the lights strobing so quickly she was honestly surprised she hadn't had some sort of seizure. And, to top it all off, she couldn't drink- something which would have probably made the whole experience tolerable. As it was, she'd danced for a whopping 15 minutes before deciding to hide in the booth that Lucian had so graciously gifted to them, "guarding" the booze and purses. She'd occasionally be joined by one of the other women, either taking a break from dancing or, in Wanda's case, taking refuge from the oppressive weight of dozens of buzzing minds. In the meantime, she busied herself with a pastime she thought was much more enjoyable.
People watching.
Clubs were an epicenter of human drama, a place where relationships (both fleeting and permanent) were forged and broken. From her perch she watched no less than three people cheat, six people hook up, and two people get broken up with. It was like watching some awful teen drama, only it was real life, with real people, making really stupid choices. She had fun making up ridiculous stories about them, creating cheesy backgrounds and making terrible dialogue for them. When Wanda sat with her, the brunette would tell her what was actually happening, looking terribly amused by the blonde's outlandish stories. She'd been at it for close to an hour when Lucian slid into the booth, a charming smile on his face.
"My dear Rose, is my club not to your liking? I was making my rounds, when I noticed you had not moved from this spot. I must say- I'm a little offended." Rose gave him a sheepish grin, reaching up to run her hands through her hair, before stopping when she realized she'd mess up Natasha's hard work and instead just awkwardly flapping her hands.
"No! It's great! Really classy! I just... don't really like clubs in general. They aren't really my thing." Lucian raised a brow, mouth curling mischievously.
"Ah, I see. Not a fan of fun are we?" The sheepish grin slid off her face, a scowl appearing on her face as she puffed up defensively.
"Hey! I like fun- I just don't like having countless strangers rub all over me while I go deaf!" The dark haired man waggled his brows, lounging across the leather seats like a great cat.
"I don't know about that…I do like the whole 'strangers rubbing all over me' part. Besides, I imagine going deaf has its uses- you don't have to listen to idiots at least. You can just turn your head and ignore them." Despite Rose's best efforts to stay irritated, the droll statement forced her to laugh, a fond smile appearing on her face.
"Clint does that. When he doesn't feel like listening to something he takes out his hearing aids." Lucian let out an exaggerated "ooh", perking up in the spot he'd commandeered.
"Clint- is that your boyfriend, dear Rosie?" The blonde snorted, amused by the thought of Clint being her boyfriend.
He is pretty.
Yeah, but there's only room for one disaster in any relationship and, honey, we are one.
True.
You would accidentally murder each other within the first ten minutes.
He would trip and knock me off the roof or out a window.
You'd accidentally stab him with one of his own arrows.
We'd be an even stupider version of "Romeo and Juliet"- the klutz edition.
"God no- Clint is Darcy's boyfriend. My boyfriends are Steve and Bucky." At the word "boyfriends" Lucien shot up in his seat, a huge smile appearing on his face.
"Well, well- 'boyfriends'? I am impressed, dear Rose. You are much more interesting than I thought you were." Rose frowned, trying to decide if she should be offended by the backhanded compliment, but eventually just shrugged, silently deciding that "offensive" was probably just Lucien's default setting (just like it was Athena's) and that being annoyed was a wasted effort. The dark haired man gave a dreamy sigh, dark eyes glazed in reminiscence. "I remember the last time I had more than one boyfriend. Esteban and Carl- wonderful lads. Esteban in particular had fantastic hands…" The dreamy look melted off his face, a shark like grin taking its place. "That was yesterday though- tonight I'm feeling more like having two girlfriends." Rose flushed brilliantly, spluttering will trying to slide covertly away from the predatory man.
Yeah, I'm going to have to hard pass.
We've got our own man meat at home- and our libido would definitely murder us if we ditched Bucky and Steve. It's been planning this since we first discovered our right hand in middle school.
You're disgusting.
I'm you, you big dumb closet slut.
…right.
Lucien took in her unsubtle backpedaling and rolled his eyes, waving her off.
"Please, dear Rose- I am not in the habit of sleeping with taken women. Or men for that matter. I do have some class." He straightened the edges of his suit jacket, elegantly getting to his feet with a debonair smile, eyes now glued to the bar on the lower level, eyes tracking two women at the farthest end. "And, if you would excuse me, I think I've found my dates for the night. Do try to have some fun, won't you?" Then, without further ado, he melted into the crowd, disappearing just as quickly as he came.
A moment later, he appeared at the bar, coming up behind the women with a charming swagger. Rose watched the two women all but melt into him, falling all over the Brit like he was some sort of rock star.
Yeah, he's definitely a man whore.
I mean, can you blame them? He's ridiculously sexy and he has an accent.
True. If we weren't currently dating the best men on the damn planet I'd at least be tempted.
I get the feeling that they aren't even going to complain about being a one night stand.
Rose hummed to herself, amusing herself with watching them for another minute before forcing herself to focus elsewhere before they got too R-rated.
Lucian, apparently, was not too "classy" to stick his tongue down a stranger's throat in a crowded club.
Then again, Rose was pretty sure she'd seen at least three people just straight up having sex on the dance floor. Lucian was classy- at least in comparison.
She quickly tracked down the girls, shooting Natasha an exuberant wave when the red head glanced in her direction. The spy almost always consistently had an eye on her, reluctant to leave her alone at the table and in such a packed environment. However, Darcy had dragged her away, convincing her that Rose would be fine at the table in the heavily guarded VIP section. Once Natasha glanced away, Rose decided to go back to people watching, amusing herself by watching a new couple at the bar.
"Bob" (as Rose was calling him in her head) a short, muscular man with curly blond hair was clearly on a date with "Janet", an equally short, charming looking brunette. However, "Janet" looked to be losing interest as the night went on, slowly but surely putting distance between the two. "Bob" was clearly not taking the hint, looking not unlike a rather desperate puppy trying for attention. Rose was almost rooting for him.
Then she noticed him slip something into her drink.
Rose shot up in her chair, back ramrod straight as she focused on the two. She wanted to believe that she was seeing things- but "Bob" kept eyeing the drink nervously, something dark and predatory lighting up his boyish features every time "Janet" turned away from him. Panic and rage fought for dominance in her chest, eyes desperately looking to the bartender and the other people at the bar, hoping any of them had seen the fucking bastard drug the cocktail.
No one was paying attention.
If she didn't do something, that asshole was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted to that girl- and she couldn't let that happen.
Fueled by her rage, Rose scrambled out of her seat and down the stairs, pushing through the pressing crowd with all of the urgency she had in her tiny body. A couple of long minutes later, she finally made it to the bar, lurching forward and smacking the drink out of the woman's hand in just the nick of time. The woman let out an offended gasp, shooting the small blonde an angry look while the stocky blond man watched nervously.
"What the hell, you bitch?! That was my fucking drink!" Rose ignored the profanity, periwinkle blue eyes focused on the man now sweating in front of her. Righteous rage was bubbling under her skin, face flushed with the heat of it.
"This asshole slipped something into your drink." There was shocked silence from the woman now placed protectively behind her, the tiny blonde planting herself like a shield in-between them. "Bob" now looked visibly anxious, though rage was starting to appear on his face too, the short man puffing up in fake indignation.
"Don't listen to this ugly bitch, baby. She's clearly on something. Come on, let me buy you another drink." Rose puffed up, planting herself more firmly before reaching forward to shove the blond man.
"Fuck you- you aren't buying her another napkin, you piece of shit!" Rose saw a flash of red out of the corner of her eye, a sure sign that either Sammy or Nat were making their way to the bar- no doubt drawn by the commotion that Rose was making. Panic and rage were now blatantly on the short man's face, eyes flickering to the crowd now observing the arguing blondes. Behind her, the brunette was complaining loudly, irritated at the loss of her drink and Rose's perceived "jealousy". "Janet" shuffled behind her, clearly attempting to go around the diminutive woman, but Rose promptly cut her off. "No! I'm telling you he drugged your fucking drink!" At the angry shout, "Bob" lost any semblance of "calm", face turning purple as he panicked.
Without any warning, he reared back and punched Rose right in the face.
Rose had been hit a lot in the face- enough that she could usually tell if someone had any sort of training. "Bob", it seemed, clearly had a black belt in something. She felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to her face, agony lighting up her nerves like lightning at the force of the blow, her head ricocheting of the edge of the bar from the momentum of the strike. Her legs came out from underneath her, body crumpling like a house of cards as blood poured down the side of her face. Ears ringing and spots dancing in front of her eyes as she desperately clutched at the edge of the bar, Rose tried to get to her feet before the brute could hit her again. However, the feat was impossible for her, legs shaking as her brain rattled around her skull like a painful maraca. She'd braced herself for the next punch only to find the man suddenly ripped away from her, Natasha wrapped around him in a painful looking arm bar.
Relieved, Rose slumped against the bar, blinking heavily and absently wiping at the blood pouring from the cut on her head. Feeling incredibly woozy, Rose gave her a weak thumbs up, her voice slurred as she swayed in place.
"Great timing, Nat…I was jus' abou' to call ya'" The blonde flapped her hands, absently licking the blood off her lip and painting her teeth a ghoulish red. "Captain Date Rape was' aboutta' do…rapey things. With drugs." "Bob" snarled angrily, struggling weakly in the red head's grip.
"Get the fuck off of me! This psycho dyke is lying! She deserved to get fuckin' punched!" Natasha frowned, adjusting "Bob's" arm until he was locked in place, face pinched with pain as she patted his pockets. A second later she pulled out a tiny package of pills, face drawn in fake contemplation as she eyed the little pouch.
"Well, well- someone is lying here, and it certainly isn't Rose." The blond man spluttered angrily, shooting more curses while vehemently asserting his belief that the petite blonde "had it coming". Natasha glanced between the cursing man and the blood soaking Rose's face, the tiny blonde woman swaying in place as she valiantly fought to stay awake. Something terrible and cold appeared on her face, green eyes frosting over as she took in the battered appearance of her friend.
Natasha only had a handful of people she trusted- and handful of people that she considered family. This tiny, blood soaked creature with more courage than brains was one of them. There weren't a lot of things that she considered sacred- things she valued over her desire to do good- but her family was one of them. She wasn't a god, or a super soldier, or enhanced- she couldn't protect her family from homicidal robots or crazed gods, at least not in any hugely substantial way.
Potential rapists in bars?
That she could do.
With a subtle jerk of her body, she wrenched his arm, pulling the joint from his socket with a sickening pop. His purple face washed white in shock as he screamed in pain, eyes bulging before they rolled in his head, the blond slumping as he lost consciousness. "Janet" let out a terrified screech at the brutal display, face pale from the shock of both the violence and the fact that her date had tried to assault her. Rose gave Natasha another thumbs up, blinking blearily at the red head. She gave the taller woman a dopey smile, blood dripping off her face and soaking the neck of her dress.
"Nice, Nat-Nat. S'very snappy." She snickered drunkenly, slowly sliding to the floor. "Get it? Cuz' you snapped…" Her eyes roll in her head, the blonde collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut as she finally gave in to the pull of unconsciousness.
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Rose's apartment was in shambles, every book and knickknack scattered across the room, the tables and chairs overturned in a haphazard mess. Glass and paper littered the floor in a dangerous collage, the apartment bathed in darkness but for the light shining in Rose's bedroom. The only thing untouched was the full length mirror in the corner of her room, the frame white and pristine in the otherwise destroyed room. Rose stood shaking in front of it, completely bare except for the tan underwear sitting on her narrow hips. She was breathing raggedly, eyes resolutely focused on her form in the reflection of the mirror. Loathing throbbed in her chest, spreading like poison tipped barbed wire through her veins. She couldn't think about- she couldn't-
Focus, Rose.
Sucking in a shaky breath she angrily wiped at her eyes, pushing back tears and focusing on her feet. Her toes were crooked and nubby, scars dotting her ankle from when she'd broken the delicate bones falling down some stairs. They'd had to screw the joint back together.
It was just a CT scan…Just to make sure I didn't have a bleed—
Don't think about it. Focus.
Gritting her teeth and swallowing her tears, Rose focused on her body again, eyes tracing up the skinny, bird-like appearance of her legs. More scars littered her thighs, this time from her brutal beating in the closet. They'd had to pin her femur back together, the pins had itched so bad-
One scan became another- of her head. Her chest. Her spine. Her pelvis—
Stop. Don't think about it- just look.
A sob was working it's way up her throat, chest tight as pain, viscous and dark spread across her body. She didn't want to think about any of this- didn't want this to be real—
Focus on what's in front of you Rose!
She focused her burning eyes on her chest and abdomen, taking in the incisions where they'd removed her spleen, the raised section where her pacemaker sat, the numerous scars across her ribs from her many heart surgeries and the tubes they'd placed in her lungs. Her weak lungs.
Her pathetic lungs.
Her—
Your arms Rose! What about your arms!?
She gave up on not crying, tears making angry lines down her face as she focused on the thin appendages, rage and pain sitting vice like on her chest, great gasping sobs shuddering from her thin lips, the edges bitten raw from where she'd try to smother her screams. She grasped at her biceps, squeezing them angrily as she traced the scars from where they'd set the bones, her fingers rough and crooked from where they'd been broken.
Broken.
Like she was broken- wrong- she was so god damn wrong- it wasn't the flu. It wasn't pneumonia. It—
No! Nononononono- don't think about it! Your face! Focus on your face!
She trembled in place, despair pulsing underneath her skin like a second heartbeat. She didn't want to think at all- but she couldn't stop. God, she just wanted everything to stop. Everything had been good- it had been so good- it wasn't fair- it was just supposed to be some fucking stitches not—
LOOK AT YOUR FACE ROSE!
She finally dragged her eyes up, tracing the crooked tilt of her chin, the misshapen, uneven curve of her cheeks. She looked at the bent bridge of her too big nose, the cartilage permanently curved from being broken over and over. She looked at the thin press of her lips, the skin raw and peeling from her crying, periwinkle blue eyes red rimmed and watering as they took in the short locks of her hair.
She'd always wanted long hair- had even tried to grow it out- but it just never grew. It stayed short, and brittle and ugly and she fucking hated it! For a single second, the rage beat back her pain and despair, the tiny blonde lurching forward with a snarl, crooked hands smashing into the mirror with impressive force. Over and over she hit the glass, spider webs appearing across the surface with each hit until, with a deafening crack, the mirror shattered into a million pieces.
Rose isn't even aware she's screaming until she's stopped.
Rage spent, she stares at the broken pieces scattered across her bedroom floor, emptiness consuming her as she watches the pieces shine in the lamplight. Blood drips down her hands, the fragile skin sliced open by the edges of the mirror.
She thinks they should hurt.
It isn't fair…
When has our life ever been fair? Our life has always been a game of give and take- and it has always taken more than it has given.
It's not fair- I finally have a family! A future!
You had—
There was a deafening crash as her front door was smashed in, the two soldiers bursting in with near matching looks of panic on their faces. There's a quiet, terrible moment where they take in the devastation of her apartment, shock on their faces as they observe the mess she'd made of the once pristine space. Steve swallows drily, voice edged with his dread as he calls her name into the dark space.
Rose wants to answer, but finds her words stolen, emptiness replaced with bone deep agony at the sound of his voice.
I just found them…I wanted- I wanted everything-
All of the things she would never have swirled through her head, passing through her mind and piercing her heart with the sharpness of the glass scattered around her feet.
I wanted love…and sex…and marriage…and babies—I wanted- I almost—
Her heart shatters in her chest, taking her legs out at the knees as she collapsed to the floor. A wail bursts from her chest, the sound of her dreams dying escaping in one drawn out, agonized sound. Her hands clutch at her chest, nails digging into her skin as she sobbed brokenly. Steve and Bucky are at her side a second later, the brunet grabbing at her hands and pulling at the digits to keep her from hurting herself.
"Baby doll! Rose! What the hell happened?!" The blonde gave a keening wail, ignoring her nakedness to collapse into his chest, body shaking in agony at the sound of his voice.
She hated her body- hated the scars and the ugliness of it- hated her hair and her fingers and her fucking eyes-
Most of all, she hated all of the ways it had failed her.
She hated all of the things it was stealing from her- was stealing from them.
She didn't want to leave them.
But her body wasn't giving her a choice.
Clutching at his chest, she feels Steve kneel behind her, gently placing a blanket around her shoulders. Rose ignored it, focused on the statement that had ripped her to pieces.
"Bucky-" She sucked in another shaky breath, voice choked by the force of her sobs. "Steve- I have cancer." Both men froze, the same agony she'd been feeling beginning to make its home inside of them as well. Her diagnosis hangs in the air, a bomb sucking the oxygen out of the room and leaving broken glass in its stead. She sobbed again, knuckles white with the force of her grip.
"I'm dying."