Chapter 21: Blindsided

September 1

District Seven

While things were heating up in the Capitol, they were actually relatively quiet around Howlett Manor — a fact that Scott was taking advantage of to get some carving done on an important project. It had taken him a couple months now, just because he could only work on it when Clara wasn't around ... and when someone with a big mouth wasn't around… So, usually, he had to be alone to do it. But the little ring was just about finished. At this point, he was really just fine-tuning it with an almost nervous energy.

The air was already starting to chill, so it was the perfect temperature to sit out on the grounds under a tree and get some carving done, so that was where Scott had been for the past few hours, just tweaking and tuning the ring and keeping half an eye (and ear) out for anyone approaching so he could hide it.

The other day, Josh had almost caught him, and while Scott loved his youngest brother, Josh would not have been able to keep that secret, no matter how quiet he was.

So when he heard someone approaching, he looked up and grinned when he saw that it was Clara, quickly pocketing his project before she could get a good look at it. "Looks like you found me," he teased as he kicked the carving tools behind him. "Or did Josh tell you where I was? He's the one who found the best shade tree on the grounds."

"No, I was looking for you," Clara replied before she took a seat next to him and stole a quick kiss. "Peter Quill is hard to be around when he's celebrating."

"He's … enthusiastic," Scott had to agree, leaning back with an easy grin. "But it's not like the grounds aren't big enough to find a little peace and quiet. Weather's perfect for it."

"Is that your way of telling me to get lost?"

He laughed and leaned over to kiss her. "Not a chance," he said. "Solitude with you? Best way to spend the day."

"The trees are just starting to turn, too. We might just get a beautiful fall before the snow flies."

"Yeah. Hopefully by then the rest of the group will be here to enjoy it. Skye's optimistic," Scott said with a nod.

"She doesn't sound too optimistic when she's swearing at her laptop," Clara pointed out. "Or turning six shades of red on the tablet."

"Both of those things are… kind of normal for her when it's a big project like this," Scott admitted. "Osborn has some real firewalls, as I understand it. And she always turns shades when she's on that tablet. I've seen it."

"Alright then," Clara said with a dismissive little shrug, totally unconcerned. "So. What are we doing on this fine day, handsome?"

"Well, I was just planning to sit under the best shade tree on the grounds for a while, but if you'd rather be out doing things, I've been reliably informed that the lake is 'gorgeous this time of year' by Mrs. O'Malley at least four times."

Clara nodded in an exaggerated way with her eyebrows high. "Wonder why she's doing that so often."

"It's a mystery," Scott said with a smirk. "If only she'd drop more hints."

"Right. That woman has the subtlety of a sledgehammer."

"At least Heather's not living in the house with us anymore — can you imagine?" Scott chuckled as he leaned back on the grass, his arms behind his head.

"I'd rather not," she replied, sliding over to rest her head on his shoulder. "Your family is ...well. I should stop. I have no room when it comes to pushy family."

"They mean well," he said, then paused. "Mine anyway."

She didn't argue the point, and instead just let the subject drop. She looked up at him with a little smile and leaned up to steal another kiss before curling up with one hand over his heart, just enjoying the day. It wasn't too terribly long — in the warm afternoon sun, with the cool breeze coming off the lake making for the perfect fall day — before the two of them drifted off peacefully.

Scott woke up hours later as someone stuck the toe of their boot in his side. It wasn't anything alarming at first, but when the owner of said boot went from a somewhat gentle nudge to a more serious punt …

"What did I tell you, boy?" Victor Creed drawled out over the sound of a crack and Scott's pained and surprised gasp — something had definitely broken when Victor had kicked as hard as he had.

On hearing her brother's voice and Scott's gasp, Clara startled awake and sat up quickly as Scott scrambled to get up as well, holding his side and obviously hurting — but obviously furious as well.

"How did you get here?" Scott demanded.

"Like I'd tell you," Victor laughed. He moved to get a more solid grip on Scott while he was still reeling, and Clara pushed forward, trying to dislodge Victor's grip.

"Just back off," Clara said through gritted teeth — about a split second before Victor lost his temper and brought down a handful of claws on his sister, following it up with a hard punch to the stomach that doubled her over and a hit to the side of her head that knocked her silly.

Scott shouted out when Clara doubled and whirled on Creed, hitting the taller man with a palm strike to his chin as he ground out, "I told you not to touch her," with real fury in his tone.

"You think you can play with the big boys?" Creed drawled out, turning back to Scott with a twisted sort of smile. He advanced on Scott as the younger man squared up in a fighting stance, ready to give it his best shot, and when Creed made the quick advance, Scott didn't shy away, drawing back to give it as good as he was able.

Inside the manor, it was shaping up to be a lazy day. Hunter was making over Clint's stray dog and Ella — both of whom were in love with David — and Bobbi was just enjoying watching the group of them play... when the whine of an alarm that meant one of the kids had hit their panic button went off.

Bobbi was closest to the door — though Quill had come bursting from the other room a few moments later with some kind of gun she hadn't seen before, ready to fight as soon as Bobbi had checked the coordinates of the distress call... on the outside of the grounds in the treeline.

"Who hit it?" Quill asked as he fell into step with Bobbi.

"Clara."

Quill looked surprised before he let out a low whistle and picked up the pace.

They spotted Clara first, with some serious and definitely distinctive claw marks down her face that she was trying to cover with one hand; with the other, she was trying to help Scott, who just looked bad.

"Aw, crap," Quill muttered as Bobbi immediately knelt beside Clara to assess both of them. The five-claw pattern on Scott's injuries matched Clara's, but there were far more of them, as well as a deeper gash across his face and eyes that it looked like Clara had been working on covering when they got there.

"It would be better if we got him to the Capitol," Bobbi said at last in a tone low to Quill. "If you can get him back to the manor—"

"Yeah, got it," Quill said quickly, bending down to scoop up the unconscious kid and wincing at the up-close look. Creed had really worked him over.

"Clara, we'll have Hank get you stitched up as well," Bobbi promised in a tone that was both gentle and urgent at the same time as she pulled the young woman to her feet. "Hank and I will get him stable — and we'll get you both to the Capitol as soon as the others get back with the jet." She gave Clara a tight smile. "Good timing, huh? They were on their way in anyway to switch Charles for Hank so David can have his dad for a while."

"Yeah," Clara said miserably. "Lucky us that it was just a warning."

Bobbi frowned and reached over to halfway pull Clara into her, even as they rushed back to the house. "You'll both be alright," she promised. "You and I both know what SHIELD's got to help with that."

"Yeah, I know," Clara replied. "Which is why he had no trouble adding me to the mix too."

"Did you at least give it back to him?" Bobbi asked.

"I didn't get the chance," Clara said. "He hit me first."

Bobbi made a mental note of that so she could make sure Clara was properly checked over before she nodded. "Quill brought Mac's gun. Apparently, it's good for seven-foot creeps."

"Yeah, I know about Mac's taser," Clara replied. "He needs hot lead. Or a land mine."

"No arguments there," Bobbi said as the little group got up to the manor — and Hank was quick to usher them all inside so he could get down to work.

The bulk of the victors were returning to Seven — at least for a day or two — in need of a break from the cameras and smiling. Not one of them looked happy; the whole 'campaign' experience was almost as exhausting as the other time they'd spent in the Capitol. They were maybe halfway back when Jubilee shook Logan awake to point out that his tablet was chiming. Again.

"I'm on the way; what can be that pressing?" he said, mostly to himself as he got the little device out.

Clear the jet out fast as soon as you land. We need to get right back in the air. Creed showed up again, and he went after Clara and Scott.

Logan sat up a lot straighter as he read the message and sent his own. How bad is it?

Bad enough they're sending him to the Capitol, Skye replied. Her too, but he's pretty bad off, honestly.

What's the damage?

There was a slight pause, then, Well, what I'm overhearing from Hank and Bobbi is pretty deep lacerations and bruising and a few breaks. Internal issues, I think? And Creed took all five claws to his face pretty deeply.

"Shit," Logan said, catching Jubilee's attention. Is he still around?

Not that anyone can see, but Quill swears if he shows his face, he's getting high voltage through him.

Tell him to stay close.

Will do. Just make sure to clear it fast

Consider it done.

Jubilee leaned over Logan's shoulder with a little frown as Logan put the tablet aside. "Something up?"

"Yeah, pass the word — when we get into Seven's airspace, everyone be ready to just get the hell out. They need the jet as soon as we land. Scott and Clara were attacked."

Jubilee jumped straight into a concerned expression. "Are they okay? Who do I need to kill?"

"You need to keep yourself out of it," Logan told her. "And no, of course they're not okay if they're flying them to the Capitol. It was Vic."

Jubilee's eyes widened, and she nodded quickly. "Right. I'll pass it on."

As soon as they landed, the entire group simply filed out quickly — leaving plenty of room for the two kids to be loaded up with Hank and flown back as soon as the plane had been refuelled. And as the rest of them watched, or quickly got inside, Logan dropped his bag and made a beeline for Quill. "Show me where it happened."

Quill straightened up for a second and then nodded, already setting out at a jog ahead of him — though it was fairly obvious once they got there for as much evidence as was left behind.

Logan took a long look at the mess and circled around it before he found the path that led away from it and headed out to try and track Creed down — with Quill hastily rushing to follow.

'Come on, man; you look beat already. This is not a good idea."

"If I don't do this now, he slips away. Again."

Quill paused at that and then let out all his breath. "I'm coming with you. Just in case Big and Ugly has Slightly Smaller and Ugly with him."

"Great," Logan said, though he hadn't taken his eyes off of the trail.

But half an hour into the hunt, Logan started swearing. The nasty blood trail had not only dropped off to nothing at a road, but there were clear signs that Creed had taken off in some kind of vehicle once he'd reached the road.

Quill swore under his breath as well and then shook his head. "If he wanted to set a trap, he sucks at setting trap trails."

"Let's just go back," Logan grumbled, pushing past him and looking as if he'd been robbed of something all the way back to the scene of the crime, where he stopped and stared at the mess. He circled it and picked up Scott's knives and gouges; the box of them had been more or less scattered in one area. As he gathered the last of them, he paused on seeing the little wooden circle covered in roses and vines that Scott had been working on.

For just a moment, he let the gouge in his hand fall to the ground as he looked at the handmade ring a little closer, frowning deeper the more he looked at it.

"You alright?" Quill finally prompted when Logan had been stopped for a while.

Logan turned to look at Quill and slipped the ring into his front shirt pocket before he stooped to pick up the gouges and knives again. "Sure. When's the next flight back in?"

"Probably as soon as they've dropped off the kids," Quill said.

"Timing on this was a little fishy, don't you think?" Logan said as they headed up to the house.

"What, you don't think a couple months is enough time to recover from what your girl did?" Quill asked, missing Logan's point entirely.

"I think Creed does what he's paid to do," Logan replied. "And it wouldn't have mattered who was outside. Just bad luck for Scott and Clara that it was them."

"You think this was just, what, a distraction?" Quill raised both eyebrows high on his head. "That's a pretty serious distraction, man." He shook his head as the two of them headed back to the manor. "Kind of a desperate move, too, going to that kind of distraction. Hate to say it, but it might mean at least we're getting at Norman if he's willing to go to Victor Creed."

"I'm saying the timing is questionable. Vic has never done anything to anyone's benefit on accident."

"So what's next then?" Quill asked. "I mean, I'm more than happy to help you find him and send however-many-volts through him, but if you think there's something else we should be focused on…"

"I think that if he was really after me, then he'll be back... but if it's a diversion? That'll be it. He'll disappear into the woodwork again."

"Kinda hoping he comes back, to be honest. I really, really, really want to hit him with this thing. I've heard stories." Quill flipped the gun over a few times in his hands and shot Logan a cocky grin.

"You and me both," Logan replied. "I've got all kinds of things for him next time I see him."

September 2

Capitol Hospital

"Are you awake now?" Clara asked. "It's hard to tell with all the bandages."

Scott shifted slightly as he did just that — start to wake up — before he nodded. "Getting there," he muttered, though it was hard to tell, all things considered. Someone had clearly patched him up after that run-in with Creed, but with how heavy the damage had been to his face, that meant Scott couldn't see anything, not with the bandages tightly wound around his eyes… And that combined with the pain medicine made an honest answer to Clara's question difficult.

"Are you alright?" she asked almost sleepily.

"I'm always fine," he said with a shrug, though that didn't feel too great either. The pain medicine they had him on was something else, but he was sore everywhere.

"Jeez, I don't even need to see your face to see you're lying," Clara replied as she crossed the room. "Is it alright if I sit with you? I don't want to make anything worse," she asked as she covered his hand with hers.

Scott turned his hand to squeeze hers and nodded. "I'd prefer it, actually," he admitted. "It's a little less…" He waved his hand as he tried to come up with the word. "...disorienting when I've got someone I can hear and touch."

"Then I'll try to be your anchor for a change," she said before she very gingerly took a seat on the edge of his bed.

"For a change?" he repeated with an almost dopey grin. "Come on, Clara."

"Common knowledge that you're the grounded one," she replied.

"With a practical girl to come home to," he teased, then tipped his head to the side. "I can't tell — did that get a smirk? It usually does."

"Of course it did," she said, letting the smirk stretch into a small smile, though she was trying not to.

"You doing alright?" he asked. "And don't lie to me just because I can't see you; I'll figure it out somehow."

"Considering you're the one on heavy pain killers, yes, I'm alright."

"I didn't ask if you were alright in relation to anything," he said, shaking his head slowly... though that was a weird sensation too. Dark and floating and moving ... not a good combination.

"I'll be fine, Scott," she said in a tired-sounding exhale.

"He hit you," Scott said with a frown.

"Yes, he does that sometimes," she admitted.

"I probably could've given it back to him better if I had Mac's gun - it's in the foyer," Scott grumbled.

"I'm very sure someone is carrying it with them now," she replied. "And he'll get it."

Scott nodded at that and then leaned back tiredly. "So, what's the prognosis, Nurse Clara?" he asked in an attempt at a teasing tone. "When do I get to see the most beautiful girl in Marvel again?"

She shook her head and got up, only to get a little closer and give him a kiss. "You'll live," she said. "Beyond that, I really don't know. There have been a lot of very important-looking doctors in here."

"And I missed it," he said with a bit more of that dopey grin from earlier. "I could have helped you pitch your resume — you'd be the best nurse in the country two weeks in."

"Only for you, goofball."

"I'm a little biased."

"So am I," she said. "Why do you think you get such good care?"

Scott grinned at her as he ran his thumb over her knuckles. "That's a good point," he admitted. "Guess I lucked out."

September 5

Capitol Hospital

It had taken a couple days, but Scott had more or less figured out where everything was in the room, so there was much less bumping into things than there had been the first time he'd decided to stretch his legs — which he'd gotten in trouble for. But sitting there in the dark was going to drive him nuts if he couldn't do something.

He could, for example, turn the television on to listen to the election coverage from his bed, but he'd much rather get up to do it.

"I know you didn't want it? But I brought you some candy," Skye said, her voice startling him out of his thoughts as she came in and took an open seat near him. "Lots of chocolate."

Scott smiled her way as he found his seat again and tipped his head in the direction of her voice. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Oh, you know," she replied airily, "checkin' on my favorite ex-tribute. Staying kinda close to my favorite victor … and I really, really needed to see Coulson. My three favorite guys in one place. How could I not be here?"

"Any reason you really needed to see Coulson?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow — not that Skye could see it.

"Anxiety," she said with no hesitation and a little nod to herself. "When things get freaky, I like to see him."

"Well, I hope it helped," Scott said.

"Little bit," she admitted. "And, you know, I'd rather be here with you than alone in my hotel room."

"Oh yeah, I've got all the amenities here," he said with a dry smirk.

"It's the company, you goober," she said before she tossed another candy bar his way, simply to hit him with something.

The chocolate bar hit him in the chest, and he caught it as it fell with both hands. "Hey. No fair throwing things."

"I figured you wouldn't want me babying you," she said. "So this is me. Not babying you."

Scott paused and tipped his head to the side before a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I appreciate that. Honestly."

"Well, you're very welcome," she said before she leaned back and tried to get comfortable. "I know for a fact there is nothing to listen to but election coverage, or I'd … I dunno. Put a movie on or something."

"No, I've been listening to the coverage," Scott said with a nod. "Sounds like Logan got in yesterday. They're having a small field day with him and Tony."

"Yep, those two are something else," she agreed. "But Trish Walker has the exclusive time with Logan, so … our friendly networks are getting some great on-the-spot footage and an amazingly good commentary. Their ratings are wiping the floor with the other guys."

"Yeah, so I've been hearing. Sounds like he's been busy."

"He's trying to get a minute with Osborn, but that's not as easy as him slipping up on Stark."

"Which he hasn't been able to do again. Trish has been disappointed." Scott shrugged up both shoulders. "Like I said, I've been listening. Not much else to do."

She was quiet for a moment. "Anything you want to talk about, aside from the stupid election?"

Scott paused as he thought about it. He wasn't too excited to talk about the thing on the forefront of his mind, but... "I don't suppose ... this might be a dumb question. But did anyone manage to save my jeans before they brought me in here?"

She was confused for a moment and turned her head toward the dresser in the room. "All of your clothes are in a bag right here — do you want me to get them for you?"

"If you could just… check the pockets on the jeans," he said.

"Sure," she said, getting up quickly to do as he'd asked. She took her time and went through the pockets and then picked up the bag to look into the bottom. "There's nothing here."

Scott let out a breath that moved through his whole body as he swore quietly. "That's what I thought, but… It must have fallen out," he said quietly.

"What must have fallen out?" Skye asked as she sat down with him again and put a hand on his arm.

He tipped his head to the side, considering her for a long time before he seemed to decide it was alright to bring her in. "The ring I was working on," he said in a quiet, low tone.

"The what now?" she said just as quietly. "How long …"

"A few months," he said. "I had the design just right, too."

"Well … tell me what it looked like and I'll go search for it myself. Maybe it fell out of your pockets!"

Scott let out a sigh as he leaned back. "When? At the manor? In the plane? In the ER?"

"I'll check all of them," she said. "Months of work? Come on."

"I'd say I could make another one, but…" He gestured at the bandages around his eyes.

"No, don't … don't give up," she said, sounding upset. "It's not over. You … they'll fix it."

But Scott just shook his head, looking even more tired than before. "No, they told me this morning," he said.

"Well. They're … just... wrong."

"It's alright, Skye," he said quietly. "Really. I'll adjust."

"No, you don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "They've fixed stuff like this before. Ororo..."

"Skye," he said tiredly, "they're not running the Tahiti program anymore."

"I know, but … Scott."

"It's really fine," he said. "Takes a little getting used to, but I think I've at least got the layout of the room. The manor will take longer, obviously…"

"But I'm going to need you to tell me how cute my kid is! That on its own is reason enough to find a way, Mr. Summers."

"Hey, I won't complain if you do find a way," Scott said, holding up both hands. "It's just a long shot. The damage is pretty deep."

"Not as deep as the damage he's going to get," Skye muttered.

"Yeah, maybe don't go after him until after your cute kid comes, alright?" Scott said earnestly. "I'm sure she's going to take after you," he added with a teasing smirk.

"Well, I'm not going to believe anyone but you — so you're on notice. It will work. Somehow."

"Yes ma'am," he said with another little smirk. He leaned back as he unwrapped the chocolate bar she'd thrown at him and tipped his head at the television. "Any forward motion on our captured friends?" he asked to change the subject.

"I have an algorithm running," she replied. "Trying to break into their coding and security. See if I can find a trace of Stark's signature on anything."

"Well, it's not just Tony who knows how to code."

"No, but he's the most advanced in the country," she replied. "And he always puts in his signature."

"Yeah, but Osborn hasn't brought out any of the spiders," Scott pointed out. "Which means he doesn't have the control over them that he has over some of the others."

"Do you really think that Peter Parker is going to play along if they bring him out?" Skye asked with a little smirk.

"Not without putting him through whatever Johnny's been through," Scott said. "You can hear it when he talks, by the way. It's slower than usual."

"Which would be totally a giveaway. Peter is way too bubbly to come off that … depressed."

"So if they're not playing puppets, what are they up to?" Scott pointed out. "Tony said something about a program, right?"

"Not sure, but I'll figure it out," she replied. "Keep telling me it won't work and I'll be mad enough to hack in come three o'clock this morning."

Scott paused, smirked, and tipped his head at her. "Skye," he said, completely straightfaced. "It won't work."

She grinned his way. "Just for that," she said, taking his hand and pulling it over to rest on her stomach. "You get baby kicks."

Scott broke into the broadest grin she'd seen on his face when he felt the little one moving around underneath his hand. "Oh you're in trouble," he teased. "She's active."

"I've been in trouble for a long time," she laughed.

"He's lucky to have you," Scott said, still grinning over the little baby kicks. "Just a couple more months, right?"

"That's what they say," she agreed. "She's going to need 'Uncle Scott' snuggles."

"Well, cousin, but close enough," he teased.

"'Uncle' sounds better. That's your official title now."

Scott held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. "Can't argue with the mom-to-be," he said.

The two of them just kept each other company for a good, long while, and though Scott couldn't see it, Skye kept looking his way, more and more upset with his predicament. When it looked like the night was wrapping up, she quickly cleared her throat and tried to keep from crying — she just had to make it another couple of minutes — before she gave Scott a quick hug and promised to come see him soon.

"Do not give up, mister," she said sternly.

"What, and deny you the fuel to hack into Oscorp?" he had to tease her gently.

"Oh, they are going to be so nuked tonight, I can't even begin to go there right now. I'm serious."

"I'll expect to have all of the spiders in this room by the weekend," he said with a smirk. He gave her arm a little squeeze and then waved her off, and she made it to the hallway before she got upset, already moving to call up Fitz.

The elevator doors closed before Fitz picked up the other end of the line, and she launched right into it: "I have a project that you need to give top priority to."

"Oh. Alright," Fitz said, sounding surprised. "What do you need, then?"

"Victor Creed blinded my favorite ex-tribute. You need to fix it."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I can work on the bionic replacements, but Skye ... Jemma did the surgeries for that kind of thing."

"I know, I know," she said, though it was clear from the tone of her voice that she was crying. "And I will find her. Myself."

"Skye, are you alright?" Fitz asked, sounding concerned. "Are you with Logan? You should be."

"I will be — but this is important. You can't wait for Simmons to get going on this."

"Right, right," Fitz said quickly. "No, I can start right away, yeah, I just... Maybe you should take a breath."

"I'll be fine," she said, though it was clear she was still crying.

"Where's Coulson? Or Logan? You shouldn't be upset by yourself, Skye."

"I told you — I'm going there now. I just left Scott. That's all."

"Ah." She could almost see the Fitz nod of understanding. "Right then. Well. I'm going to get started on this. Might even add in a few improvements. Get Clara to sign off on the color. All that."

"His eyes were brown," Skye said. "A perfect, deep, chocolate brown."

"Careful now, Skye. You're a married woman," Fitz couldn't help but tease.

She stopped cold and let her jaw drop open for just a moment. "Oh. ha-ha, very funny."

"I thought it was."

"I'll call tomorrow," she said with a little smirk. "Thanks, Fitz."

"Anytime," Fitz said before he hung up to get to work on Skye's assignment.