Disclaimer: Do not own Marvel or The 100
Warnings for homelessness, child abuse and mentions of human trafficking.
Living situation
The growling had slowly died down and the vampires watched as Clarke calmed down somewhat, even if she watched them, still shivering.
"We're sorry," Laura said, more than sure that Clarke would need an explanation soon, "We should get you some food. There is a large kitchen we have. And plenty of food for you. You clearly haven't been eating in a while. I imagine your living situation has not given you much chance to eat more foods. Well, we have a lot in our kitchen. Much more than scraps."
Clarke forgot her fear for just a second and she glared at the other woman. "I find more than just scraps on the street."
Laura nodded. "I'm sorry," she said, "But we do have more fresh foods. We can bring you some, if you'd like."
Clarke opened her mouth to protest, but then she thought a bit more. Here she was, alone, and she most likely wouldn't get her hands on her pepper spray again anytime soon, and she had seen how fast these people had moved, and she was positive now that they weren't normal humans, or humans at all, as insane as that might sound, and she was still hungry. If she was going to escape these people? Then she would need to have access to food that would give her energy to run.
Besides, she was still really, really hungry.
"Alright," she grumbled, nodding.
The vampires smiled and Natasha, Pepper, Bruce, Steve, Laura and Clint walked to the kitchen and Clarke begrudgingly followed them.
They got to the fridge, opened it up and pulled out several pieces of food and placed them out onto the counter in front of Clarke.
Clarke looked down at all the food there, unable to help that her mouth was watering. Her stomach growled, her body instantly recognizing its chance to be fed.
She groaned, unable to help herself.
"It's alright, Clarke," Laura said, smiling and she pushed some of the food items closer to Clarke.
Clarke glanced at the others cautiously. Smiling, Laura reached out and grabbed the pear on the counter, picked it up and lifted it to her lips, biting into it. She made sure Clarke watched as she took a bite out of it and gulped it down. Laura then put the pear down on the counter, then she opened up the bottle of water, gulped some of the water down, then closed the bottle up and placed it back down onto the counter. She then reached for the plastic container of chicken.
Clarke grumbled, "Okay, I got it. Nothing's poisoned."
Laura smiled again and stepped back, allowing Clarke to practically snatch the pear off of the counter and brought it to her lips, taking one hungry bite out of it after another.
The vampires stepped back, smirking as they watched Clarke more or less decimate all of the food offered to her. Clarke gulped down water, ate several pieces of fruit, would have grabbed the chicken, had Laura not grabbed the container first and told Clarke that she'd microwave it before Clarke was going to eat them.
Clarke grunted that she was used to eating food cold-because it wasn't like she'd had access to a microwave for the past six years. But Laura didn't listen and tossed the container into the microwave and heated the chicken up.
Clarke stared at the microwave hungrily, almost like she wanted to break the microwave and take the box off in a corner of the room and gnaw away at the chicken.
Laura and Natasha shared a smirk. Clarke all but looked like she might crash her fists through the screen of the microwave door.
When the microwave was done? Clarke didn't even wait for her "hosts" to open the microwave and pull the plastic box out, she yanked the door of the microwave open and she reached in, grabbing the plastic box out herself and dropped it onto the counter, tearing the top of the plastic box off and reached for the chicken.
Laura and Natasha moved quickly Laura grabbed Clarke's waist and pulled her back and Natasha grabbed Clarke's hands and both of them pulled Clarke away from the food.
"What the-?" Clarke mumbled.
"Not yet, love," Natasha said gently, "The microwave was put high. The chicken will burn your tongue if you try to eat it now."
Clarke squirmed in their hands, even if she knew already she wouldn't be able to break free. She snapped at them, "During all the time on the streets, do you really think that I cared if something was too hot or too cold to eat?"
"Probably not," Laura agreed, "But it doesn't change that we're not going to let anything hurt you. Wait till the chicken has cooled off."
Clarke struggled again, but still, she couldn't break loose.
"Let me the fuck go," Clarke hissed.
"We won't," Laura said simply.
They held Clarke for a few minutes as Clarke cursed them out, and after those few minutes went by, Laura and Natasha, both of which were having a hard time not cuddling her closer, not nuzzling her, even with the scent of her not having taken a bath or shower for some time, being apparent.
When both women were sure that the chicken had cooled off, they finally released Clarke and allowed her to get to the counter.
Clarke glared at them angrily, then turned back to the counter and reached for the chicken, instantly grabbed two drumsticks and started scarfing away.
In only seconds, Clarke had devoured all of the drumsticks in the box. And for the record, there were ten drumsticks in there.
With there only being bones left in the plastic container, Clarke took a few breaths and smiled, satisfied. It had been a very, very long time since she'd eaten that well.
Not as long as six years, but still, long. Sometimes she'd get lucky and would be able to get her hands on a whole dish of food from a restaurant, either from all the cash she'd manage to scrounge up, or from stealing a whole dish off of a table outside of a restaurant, while the customers weren't looking. But those times were rare.
Usually she would have to would have to rely on….well, on scraps.
Clarke slowly looked at the others with her. She took smiled weakly, feeling out of it after eating that much, so unused to eating so well, "Thank you. Thanks. But I need to go now, okay?"
Laura lost her smile and Natasha smiled, knowing that they would have to tell Clarke something that they knew Clarke really wouldn't like to hear.
"Clarke," Tony said, stepping over, looking tired, as if he was exhausted just telling her something that would make her upset, "You're not leaving. I would have thought you knew that. You're staying with us from now on."
Clarke's eyes widened. Before she could say anything, Pepper said, "I know this is going to make you angry. But Clarke, you were living on the streets. You're underweight. You living on the streets for six years? Unacceptable. You not having access to food and healthy living? Unacceptable. Which is why you're living with us from now on. We can explain more later. But right now? There's a bathroom across the hall from the kitchen. You can take a shower or a bath if you want. And we'll get you some new clothes."
Clarke stepped back, tense again. Again, Clarke's mind went to her being in danger, sexually. That she might be thrown into sex trafficking.
Seeing Clarke's on guard expression, Brunnhilde said gently, "You're not in danger, Clarke. Promise. It's just that you need a bath or a shower. And we won't try to grab you. We'll give you privacy in the bathroom after we give you new clothes. The clothes will be in the room with you, after you lock the door."
Again, Clarke wanted to protest, but she knew that she had to play along. For now. Until she found a way of escaping.
"Alright," she said at last, "But I'm keeping these clothes," she gestured at the clothes on her body, "I got them myself. Some of them stolen, sure. But some of them I even bought after I got enough money for them. They're mine."
The possessive feeling she felt for these clothes, was that same possessive feeling that Clarke felt for her home in the sewer.
It was a feeling of ownership, which she hadn't felt for much anything else. When you were a homeless person? You had to hold onto some dignity, because almost everything else has been taken from you or you've lost it through some other way.
Tony looked like he wanted to protest, but Pepper nodded, smiling. "Alright," she said, "How about this? We bring you new clothes, and while you change into them, after your bath or shower, we'll throw the clothes you have right now, into the washing machine and you can have those clothes back after we dry them."
Clarke hesitated. She didn't want to risk anyone throwing these clothes out. But she needed to figure out how to get out of here. And the only way for that to happen, was if she convinced these people that she wasn't going to run away. And she would have to play along.
So, you know what? Fine.
Clarke nodded. "Okay," she said, "But I'm not taking my clothes off here. After I get into the bathroom. I can throw my clothes out through a crack in the doorway. And I want you to bring the new clothes in before I start undressing and then leave."
"That works," Pepper said, smiling happily and she and Melina walked away, and when they came back, they carried in some new clothes. Pepper said as she and Melina went to the bathroom, "We'll put the new clothes on the shelf across from the sink."
Clarke nodded, eyeing all of the people around her. After Pepper and Melina left the bathroom, Clarke walked past them, going to the bathroom.
She stared over at all of them, watching, still nervous about them.
Tony said, smirking, "Before you get any ideas, Clarke? There are no windows in the bathroom. Just thought you should know."
Clarke glared at him and walked into the bathroom, closing the door, and thankful to see there was a lock there. She locked the bathroom door and glanced at the wall across from the bathroom door. There were no windows, just like Tony had said.
Clarke grunted quietly, "Great." She then began to pull her jacket off and take the rest of her clothing off of her body.
Because of how long these clothes had been on her, it felt somewhat unwieldy and uncomfortable, taking these clothes off of her.
When everything finally was off, she bundled everything up in a big pile, unlocked the door, backed away from the door and opened it up, just enough that there was a crack, but making sure that no one saw her and she tossed the bundle of clothing out of the bathroom, allowing it to crash down onto the floor outside of the bathroom.
Clarke then reached out for her belt and threw it out. The belt smacked down with a 'clank' and then she tossed one boot out, then the next. Both clunked hard down against the wooden floor and Clarke closed the door and locked it again.
She then faced the shower and sighed, walking over. Awkwardly, she looked down at the length of her body.
There weren't as many dirt stains on her as people probably would have pictured on a homeless person. But she knew she was in serious need of a bath or of a shower.
She then glanced at the shelf where there were clothes on the shelf for her. New clothes.
The clothes looked nothing like the clothes she tended to wear. Colorful. Soft. Not like the dark leather she was used to wearing.
She wondered if her captors had actually gotten clothes that would fit her, but she supposed she'd find out soon after bathing and drying up. She saw several clean towels folded up next to the new clothes.
She stepped over the edge of the tub and got in, looking down at the metal dials on the wall. It looked simple enough. A knob that you pushed up to the red marker, indicating "hot" water and a blue marker, indicating "cold" water.
Clarke reached out and pushed the knob up to the red marker, making sure that it was only slightly, because she didn't want a scalding hot shower.
Warm water came spilling out of the showerhead above her and she gasped, unable to help the sound at the pleasurable feeling of warm water embracing her.
For years, she'd grabbed pots and would put them under faucets of sinks in local bathrooms, filling those pots with water and bringing them back to her various homes throughout the cities in local bathrooms, parks, train stops and yes, in the sewer. And that would be how she'd bathe.
It was far from glamourous. And it was unpleasant too. But it would get her clean and it would allow her to be amongst society and not be looked at with distaste while she grabbed what possessions she wanted.
She hadn't had an actual shower or warm bath, for years. For six whole years.
The blast of warm water raining down on her, was a shock for the blond.
She moaned quietly again and she looked around at the shelves of the shower. She saw a few small bottles of bodywash and shampoo.
Clarke reached for the body wash, uncapped it and started working.
Outside of the bathroom, the vampires collected Clarke's old clothes and her belt and boots and carried them off.
As Laura, Clint and Bruce tossed the clothes and boots into the washing machine, and set the washing machine off, Steve brought the belt to the sink and began carefully washing it and drying it.
All of the vampires listened in, making sure that Clarke wasn't in pain or anything. They had heard her gasp when the water had started and it worried them at first, but when they had heard Clarke moan, they knew that Clarke was enjoying the feeling of the water on her.
They doubted that Clarke had to hot water or a shower during the years she'd lived on the streets.
As Clarke continued to shower and the washing machine worked, Natasha, Laura, Clint, Frank, Jessica, Bruce, Carol, Tony, Pepper, Thor, Hela, Sylvie, Loki, Brunnhilde and the others all planned.
They needed to find who it was that had thrown Clarke out of her home in the first place and had sentenced her to a life of loneliness and misery on the streets for years.
Back in the bathroom, when Clarke was finally finished, which honestly, hadn't been till much later, since Clarke had just taken her sweet time in the shower, lost in the enjoyable feeling of the warm river of water flowing down on her and the feeling of her hair finally being cleaned, but when she finished, at last, she shut the water off, stepped carefully out of the shower and stepped onto the fuzzy bathmat on the floor and reaching for one of the folded up towels.
She wrapped it around her body and took her time, drying herself off.
She knew that a lot of people could get used to this. But she knew that these people had an ulterior motive. There was something they wanted from her. What, she didn't know. But something.
When she was fully dry, she grabbed the new clothes and hesitantly slid them on.
To her surprise, the clothes weren't such a bad fit. Loose on her, but not so much so that she was swimming in them.
The clothes were thin and colorful, which made her suspect that they belonged to either Pepper or Laura.
She noticed that there weren't any shoes or socks for her. She tried not to shiver a the implications.
A way to make sure she wouldn't try to run.
At least, that was what she thought, till she opened up the bathroom door in her new clothing and she was startled, seeing a pair of sandals on the floor, right outside of the door. Oh, never mind.
She went to the sandals and slipped them on. Already, she felt eyes on her, even before walking all the way into the room.
She lifted her head, eyes going instantly to the group of people that were keeping her here.
She glared at them as she walked closer.
She ignored the hungry looks she was getting. She already suspected that she was in some sort of sexual danger. So, they wanted her to listen to them? She would, but only to get answers.
And to get away eventually.
Which was why she ignored the way they watched her and just flat out demanded answers from them now.
"Alright," she snapped, "I've eaten. I've bathed. Now, answers. What the hell do you want? Also? I have to ask, and I think you knew this question was coming, since no person moves as fast as you and I heard those growls you made and it didn't sound like anything I've heard before, so, what the hell are you?"