"Get up. Come on, get up!"
Beatrix threw up again as a soldier stood above her barking at her to stand up. However, try as she might, she couldn't get her body to stop heaving up the contents from her stomach. Now that she was in a proper, well, as proper as one could get in an old castle while being held prisoner, washroom she had thought she could throw up in peace. The feeling had plagued her all day, and Pietro, the caring fool he was, had pestered and worried over her all day from the moment he had awoken and had realized something was wrong. Not wanting him to worry any further however, she had smoothed her features, actions, and behaviour while promising she was fine; waiting until she was not in the large cell where a mess made would surely stay.
Once each day the guards would lead small groups to the washrooms to use the toilet before promptly being marched back to their cells. This would not be so bad for Beatrix if the food they served to the prisoners twice a day, to keep them healthy for whatever procedures they planned on doing to them, actually agreed with her stomach. The food they gave them here was much heavier than she was used to. She wasn't left with any options however, she either ate or was beaten, as she quickly discovered by watching one of the people she had been held with during transport. Once they had refused to eat and had suffered greatly for it, so she was quick to make sure she wouldn't suffer the same fate.
It seemed she was destined to suffer regardless.
When she didn't get up as the guard asked, immediately she received a boot to the stomach, sending her flying and blood mixed with the bile from her stomach spilling out onto the floor. "Get up!" The soldier shouted again, smacking her with his rifle.
"¡Detener! ¡Por favor deje de!" She begged weakly, trying to sit up as blood ran down her front, staining the already dirty white tank.
"I said, get up!" The guard yanked on her arm to pull her to her feet, however her legs went out beneath her.
As he went to bash her again with the rifle, Beatrix screamed. "WANDA!"
Instantly her Sokovian friend rushed through the open doorway, throwing herself towards the battered Spanish girl, stopping the guard from executing any other attacks upon recognizing her. Due to Strucker's interest in the twins, all guards were under orders not to touch a hair on their heads. "Beatrix!" Wanda cried in shock when she saw her friend bloody on the stone floor.
"This none of your concern, girl. Now leave." The guard scowled.
"Get my brother." Wanda growled. "Now."
"I said move!" He pointed his rifle at Bea.
"I want. My. Brother." Wanda grounded out.
Being left with no other options, the guard left the two girls in the washroom with another soldier posted at the door. After several painstaking minutes of Bea's labored breathing and Wanda's soothing coos, sneakers could be heard against the cobblestones quickly advancing before Pietro burst into the room. The moment he laid eyes on Beatrix, a complete mess in his sister's arms, anger flared up momentarily before turning to worry as he hurried to her side, taking her from Wanda to cradle her to his chest.
"What happened, Printessa?" He whispered to her as she fell slack in his arms.
"Sick." Was all she could reply with. "No. Stop."
"So you found it necessary to beat a sick woman?" He glared at the soldier responsible.
"We have orders not to touch you or your sister. Nothing about that one." The soldier smirked.
"Why you-" Pietro began to set her down, however Bea clung to his collar.
"Pietro, no."
"But-" He began to protest.
Bringing a dirty hand up, she weakly stroked his cheek before he caught her hand in his. "Don't let go…" She whispered as she passed out.
Keeping their hands together against his cheek, he nodded slightly. "Never." He promised.
HYDRA ended up cleaning the blood off the young Spaniard's skin, and Dr. List checked her over and promised that she would only have bruising from the attack before the three of them had be tossed back into the prison cell with the other test subjects. In the entire time, Bea never left Pietro's arms.
The next day when their meals came around, Bea slowly picked at it, not wanting a repeat of the previous day. She looked up in surprise however when a piece of bread entered her vision, seeing Pietro holding it out to her. Accepting it meekly, she held her plate out to him and watched closely as he accepted it and dumped what was on it on to Wanda's plate and what little was left on to his. Saving the bread roll from her plate, he put both back into Bea's lap so that it accompanied the roll he gave to her. Reaching across her brother, Wanda silently placed her own roll onto Bea's plate.
Quietly shuffling across the wall, Bea leaned against Pietro as she munched on her roll, him leaning against her in return and Wanda curling against her brother's side as they all continued to eat without a word.