Chapter Fourteen:

Emblym muscles tensed as the woman's hand hovered over the lever, ready to move it back to excruciating pain at any second. She was breathing hard through her nose and she felt crispy, like a sandwich someone left in a skillet too long. Emblym could smell her skin singe and burn from the electrical shocks she had been subject to.

And, how did her voices feel about this? Well, it would be terrible to say they practically relished in her pain, but, well, they did. They went absolutely wild with exhileration when they turned up the voltage as she screamed in agony. They didn't even let her summon her knife, they were so satisfied.

"This is getting nowhere," the man who asked her the question growled. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her chin. Emblym tried to bite at his fingers, but his other hand was tasked with the job of keeping her head still, causing her to snap her jaw at air. "Maybe... A few molars might change its stance?"

Emblym frowned, confused for just a minute. Then, she realized that he meant her teeth. Before she could scream, he let her go, with a small shove, making her head hit the back of the chair, and she bit down in her tongue. "Or, break a few of its fingers?" He suggested, turning to the woman behind him.

"The fingers," she said. "The teeth might keep it from speaking properly."

"Fingers it is," he said, his voice falsey cheerful. He gave Emblym a terrifying smile that made her heart skip a beat in fear. Then, he turned around, stepping near the side of the room, beside the entire wall dedicated to weapons of physical and psychological terror.

"No! No!" She screamed, terrified. The voices screamed along with her, but it was the exact opposite.

"Yes! Yes! Blood! Blood! Blood!" They cried, their cheers making Emblym cringe in pain.

She didn't have time to scold them as the man came back, and stepped leisurely to Emblym's side. Her fingers were curled in balls, her hands bleeding from her nails being pressed so hard into her palms. "Please, cooperate," he said as he pulled her fingers apart. He had a strange device in his other hand.

It took several minutes of struggle, but he finally managed to get it on her hand. It spread her fingers apart as far as she could and yet left room for the hammer — because god forbid it not to allow to torture the victim.

He rasied his hammer. "Where's Wonderland?" He demanded, and despite how much respect Emblym had for Hatter, if she knew the whereabouts the planet, she would sell him and his legacy out.

But, Emblym didn't, and man's crooked smile grew. His arm came down in a flash, and then she heard a sickening crunch. Her back arched despite the restrains as she let out a blood-curling scream.

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

Emblym laid in the bed, her eyes staring at nothing. Her fingers had been haphazardly wrapped, but that was all the first aid and received. She didn't try to move. She wanted to die.

A tear slicked past her cheek at the sudden thought. She couldn't live like this, being tortured relentlessly, the pain never seeming to stop.

And then, she thought of Hatter, she thought of everything he's done, everything he did for her. Embylm shuddered, he treated her like a human — he was the only person to do that. He made her feel, he changed her. Emblym's stomach rolled, she wished she never met Hatter. She wished that she was still cold-hearted and bloodthirsty and mean.

Emblym wished she could die.

The door buzzed and her eyes went wide. That was the sound it made before it opened and they came to take her away again. They were back!? They usually gave her at least a day, or a few hours! How long has it been!? She didn't want to go back yet, she couldn't!

Emblym tried to move off the bed, which only made her chains rattle. She had been chained to the side of her bed as a safety measure. She was breathing hard and fast and her voices began to scream, ready for her pain, ready for her death. They wanted her to join them so she could scream along with them.

Emblym summoned her knife by accident. When her broken fingers formed around the weapon, she let out a mangled scream, desummoning it immediately.

There was a thud and someone said, "Emblym?" She froze, not moving. "Emblym, it's me, Steve Rogers. Do you remember me?"

Slowly, Emblym turned around to look at the man. His eyes went wide when he saw and recognized her. "I found her!" He called back and ran over. His hands came up and Emblym panicked, trying to move away, her eyes wide and crazed. She wanted to scream, but the stupid muzzle kept her from speaking a word.

Her voices chanted bloodshed, "Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!" Emblym eyes went wide and she doubled over, her head pounding hard.

"Stmph!" She screamed through her muzzle. They didn't stop and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Stmph! Stmph! Stmph!"

Steve was fast. He came behind her, before she could react and unsnapped the muzzle that kept her from speaking. Now, she was able to scream properly. "Stop! Stop! Stop!" She cried, tears blurring her vision. It was too much, too much, too much, too much, she was going to die, die, die, die—

"Kill the queen! Kill the queen!"

"Join us!"

"Die! Die!"

"—The bloodiest queen there has ever been!"

"Die! Die! Die!"

"Emblym, look at me," Steve demanded, and when she didn't turn to him, he moved her shoulders to make her look at him. "Calm down, alright. You're safe, we're going to get you out of here—hey!" She had turned to look somewhere else. Her heart was pounding and her head was light. The room was began to get spotty a her eyes were unfocused. "Look at me. Keep your eyes on me."

Emblym half recognized the order, and looked his general direction. He accepted this much, "Breathe with me, alright? We're going to count and you're going to breathe. One... Two..."

"I don't know where it is!" Emblym sputtered and closed her eyes tight. "I don't know! I don't know! I—Stop! I–I do–don't—Stop!"

"Count with me," Steve urged, gently slapping her face. "One... Two... Three... Four..."

"F... Fi... Five..." Emblym wheezed, "Five... S–Si–Six... I–I don't—"

"Seven," Steve continued, gently squeezing her shoulders.

"Eig–Eight. Eight. Eight. N–N–Ni–Nine... Nine. T... Ten..."

"Now backwards. Nine... Eight..."

"S... Seven... Si... Six... Fi–Five..." She glanced away, seeing movement at the door. A man had came to them, a gun in his hands. Emblym's eyes went wide, and she panicked.

Her hands formed her knife, and she tore through her straitjacket. Her arm moved just as the man tried to pull the trigger. She threw her knife, every muscle in her hand screaming, but her knife stayed on point.

The gun went off, and the bullet hurled towards them. It went straight in her shoulder. For a second, there was nothing. Then, the blood blossomed and pain struck.

Emblym cried out, pulling away from Steve, who had tried to pull her down away from the bullet that would have otherwise hit her in the head.

Emblym wheezed in pain, but didn't move her hand to her shoulder. Steve stared in shock and then turned back to the gunman at the door. A shiny, blood red knife was lodged between his eyes.

Steve looked down at her hand, it was wrapped tight in bandages and occasionally twitched. He could see blood seeping through and a few were bent at awkward angles. Someone broke her fingers.

Tony told them before they entered the supposed institution that Emblym was being tortured, with electricity for information. He didn't say anything about her fingers being broken. The bandages looked recent, probably done in the past 12-24 hours.

Emblym glanced from them, her eyes shut and her lips moving quickly. "Shut up! Shut up! Give me the hat! I need it—"

"Emblym—"

"I said shut up!" Her voice had changed, as it thousands of other ones combined with her own. Steve felt the hairs on his neck stand to attention and he had the sudden urge to pull away from the girl and run.

"Cap!" A voice shouted from the hall and both of them turned to see Tony fully suited and hands pointed warily down the other sife of the hall. "We need to go!"

"She's not ready to be moved yet!" Steve repljed as a bullet ricocheted off Tony's armour and into the ceiling. Tony didn't reply, and shot down the cooridor.

"Emblym, you heard the man — we need to go," Steve said quickly. "Can you walk?"

"I need it. I need it. It hurts. It—"

"Your hat? I can get your hat if you come with us," Steve tried, a bit desperate. Emnlym's head shot to him, her eyes frantic and pupils bloated.

"Give it to me!" She screamed in that same dangerous voice as she did before. This time, Steve did step back towards his shield which laid on the floor. "I need it! It's ours! It's his! Give it to—!" Something clipped her in the neck. It was fast and small and worked began to work quickly.

Emblym stepped back in shock, her working shoulder moved to her neck were the needle was. Her knees buckled under her own weight and she tilted forward, her eyes rolling up.

Steve moved to catch her before she could do anymore damage to herself. He turned to see Tony standing in the doorway, watching both of them. "Hurry. Everyone else is ready to leave."

Steve didn't have to be told twice. He threw the girl over his shoulder, grabbed his shield and ran away with Tony on his heels.

• ️ ️ ️ ️•

"... Multiple breaks in the hand, but her healing rate is exemplary. I don't know how she's doing it."

"She keeps saying voices, and when she was with me, she kept mention that and kept saying 'our' and 'we'. What does that mean?'

"What does what mean?" Embylm grunted as she tried to sit up. Her entire body was sore, but there was a bright light shining directly down on her. She winced moving to shield her eyes, but her shoulder burned from even the slightest movement.

Her voices laughed at that and she winced, "Quiet," she hissed under her breath, as she looked around.

Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner were watching her. Emblym felt uncomfortable and turned away. "Is there anyway you can turn that off?" She grumbled, and then the brightness dimmed significantly without either of them moving.

Before Emblym could ask how that was even possible. Steve spoke, "Who did you tell to be quiet?"

"Nobody," Emblym muttered. "Where am I? What's going on?"

"Tell me," he urged. "Why would they put you in an asylum? And, why did your voice change when you talked about that hat? What are you?"

"Nothing of your concern," Emblym's said, through clenched teeth. "Tell me where I am."

"You're in Stark Tower," Bruce supplied. "It's been nearly a month and you were asleep for two days. What's the last thing you remember?" Emblym didn't want to try to remember — whenever she tried to recall particularly bad memories, her voices acted up and it wasn't pleasant.

So, she looked down at the bedspread, her hands were bandages, but they were still sore and hurting. Emblym reached out, and grabbed Hatter's hat, "What is that thing?" Steve asked, still slightly awed at the hat, but keeping his high level of displeasure all the same.

"It's a hat," Emblym replied vaguely, reaching inside. "I need something for my hands." She pulled out a small bottle again that was labeled 'Heal'. Emblym tried to open the top, but it hurt her hand to try. Bruce held out her hand to open it for her, and she reluctantly gave it to him.

He popped it open and handed it to her. "What is that?" He asked as Emblym made the hat disappear and drank the liquid.

"I dunno," she admitted.

"And, you're just going to drink it!?" Steve sounded disgusted, but Embylm could feel the pain leaving her fingers as if she had just rinsed it off.

She flexed her fingers slowly after a few minutes, she had complete feeling in her hsnd again. The bones were slowly shifting, mending themselves back into place. hurt, a little, but it was a lot more manageable now.

"Incredible," Bruce awed, but Emblym out the bottle back in the hat and it disappeared. He took Emblym's hand in his and she flinched, moving away. "I just want to see your hand," Bruce assured. Emblym was still reluctant.

When he reached for her again, Emblym saw that man, his cold eyes bearing down at her. "Where is Wonderland?" He demanded, the mallet in his hand was twisting recklessly.

Emblym pulled her hand away, and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself down. "Stop it, stop it, stop it," she scolded herself. Her voices reacted loudly, and Emblym inhaled sharply.

"Emblym? Are you alright?" Steve asked, and Emblym gave a small, insignificant, nod. "Can you open your eyes?" Emblym slowly did that too. Her skull was pounding and she realized how tired she was.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked, but Emblym just shook her head, looking down at the blankets again.

"It's too much to explain," she said.

"We can listen," Steve replied. For a minute, Emblym wanted to spill everything out. She wanted to cry as she recounted all the horrible and terrifying things that happened to her in the past four years. Emblym wanted to talk about the other institute, feeling like a dead person walking, her time with Hatter and how he died. She wanted to say just how much she missed being normal. The fact that she probably wouldn't be able to go to school ever again — not that she wanted to, but the she at least wanted to be able to deny it.

Emblym was tired and scared and she wanted to be able to sleep for ten years and forget everything Hatter taught her.

But then, Emblym remembered their deaths. She remembered her tears, and not even being able to mourn them. She remembered Hatter's plan and Thor offering to help her as well. Emblym couldn't let them down.

So, Emblym breathed in and out and then looked at Steve. "No. I am going to get better, and then I am going to leave. I don't need a therapist right now."

"But, Emblym—"

"I'm tired," she said simply. "I want to sleep."

Both men were silent for a few seconds, but there was nothing they could do. Emblym had allowed herself a one-minute-pity party. Then, she got her act together and 'sucked it up'.

"Alright," Steve said, looking at Bruce, who shrugged. "We'll leave you alone." They stood to leave and Emblym looked down as they closed to door behind them so they didn't see the tears welling in her eyes.