Amelia leaned on Bruce for support as she quickly hobbled toward the doors to get into S.H.I.E.L.D., starting to panic because of how high in the air they were. Once she got inside, she managed to calm down a little and limped along toward the infirmary. Even though Bruce was much taller than her, Amelia refused to be carried again, and made herself hop.
As they were about to reach the infirmary, Fury cut them off. "We've just found the location of Barton and Romanoff, and what happened to you?"
Amelia, who was still rattled from almost falling to her death again, was not in a good mood. She was very irritated and worn out. "What does it look like?" She snapped at him. "I was stabbed in the leg and it's worse than I thought it was! I swear she had poison on that dagger or something because I'm losing a lot of blood for one wound!" She pulled away from Bruce and hopped along, leaning against the wall as she opened the door and hopped inside to the infirmary, stopping as she gripped the bed for support and heaved herself up into it.
Fury wisely left and Bruce came in to examine her leg. "You are quite determined," he chuckled. Amelia scowled and rolled up her blood soaked pant leg, wincing from the pain as she gently twisted it to the side so Bruce would see the wound; when she saw his eyes furrow, she grew nervous.
"Что не так с моей ногой?" Amelia stopped and translated, "What's wrong with my leg?"
Bruce stood and headed over to the table where he gathered some tools. "Well, you are right about the poison, thankfully it won't kill you, but it's not letting your blood clot.
"О, радость. Вот только что я хотел," Amelia growled dryly. Bruce crouched down and started to clean the wound, Amelia flinching from the pain.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm using a chemical that should help you clot, but I will need to stitch you up." Amelia sighed and hung her head, feeling miserable. "Were you paying attention when Fury said that they found where your parents are located at?"
"They found them?!" Amelia's head shot up, eyes gleaming in hope as her earlier mood was forgotten.
"Yep," he replied, pleased to see the bleeding slowing to a stop. "Fury is now figuring out a plan to rescue them."
"Please hurry," she begged. "I want to help." Bruce chuckled again and pulled out a syringe.
"I will, but I have to numb your leg or it will hurt a lot worse."
Later, Amelia was limping toward the conference room. She was wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt. And to make sure the stitches didn't get caught in the fabric, Bruce stuck on a large Band-Aid type thing, it was clear and smooth in the middle to it protected the stitches, but the sides were sticking to her leg.
Seeing everyone sitting around the table, she hobbled over and plopped down into a seat. "So, where are they located?"
"Close near the warehouse you were in. We are hovering above the place now but S.H.I.E.L.D. is invisible to any eye," Fury reported.
Hearing the word 'hovering' made Amelia go pale and she gripped the arms. "Right," she stammered. "They are somewhere near the warehouse, far, far below us."
"That's not going to help you," Agent Hill spoke, glancing to her. "You shouldn't do that to yourself." Amelia glanced down to her scar; remember all the times Anne and Frederick had told her that.
"I know," Amelia replied. "But it's still hard not to forget that information when looking out all you see is dark, winter clouds." Shaking her head to clear the thoughts, she then asked, "Alright, when do we strike again?"
"Tomorrow," Fury replied, gazing at each of them.
"Very well," Bruce sighed as Tony and Steve nodded.
Amelia nodded as well before murmuring, "Да, сэр."
Что не так с моей ногой? = What's wrong with my leg?
О, радость. Вот только что я хотел. = Oh, joy. That's just what I wanted.
Да, сэр. = Yes, sir.