Okay, so this chapter took a little bit of a different turn than I thought it would. But I hope you like it.
Azure83: I feel bad for Renata as well. She didn't deserve that.
DarylDixon'sLover: I think this chapter will answer your question.
Tiphanie: I hate that scene. Renata didn't deserve that. I didn't get into the MCU until I saw RDJ as Iron Man, and then I went into the Avengers only having seen Iron Man and IM2, and then I found out about everything else. So no, that's not a bad thing. And I know. She needs to think about it for a moment. Listen to your dreams, Olivia. I am being nicer to Olivia. I could have been really awful. I actually had a lot more planned, but I didn't write it. And I think it's worse that I enjoy writing it as much as I do.
CJ/OddBall: I hope they do, otherwise I'm going to be spamming their support line. I wanna hug Olivia too.
Enjoy!
Two days later I found myself sitting on the couch, watching the news on the edge of my seat. Three helicarriers had risen from the Potomac and were currently blowing each other out of the sky. One of them had crashed into SHIELD's HQ, now known to the public, as all of their files, as well as HYDRA's had been dumped onto the internet. The guards had yet to move outside, probably awaiting instruction to shoot me down.
A part of me hoped both Rumlow and my dad were in the building when it went down. I wanted them to die a slow, painful death, being crushed by thousands of pounds of rubble. And if they survived that, I wanted them to suffocate slowly and die before anyone found them. I was literally shaking from adrenaline and anger. I wanted everyone who had made me suffer to die a slow, painful death. They deserved it.
I couldn't sleep that night. I sat awake, continually watching the news. The stories were pouring in, SHIELD and HYDRA the headliners. I had gotten up to get something to drink from the kitchen when I heard a few thuds outside, as well as a grunt. I grabbed a kitchen knife, holding it close as I watched all the windows, waiting for something to move. So many things were flying through my head. What if Rumlow had survived, and now he was back to kill me? What if someone found out about my dad and was here to take me out, thinking I'm with HYDRA? There were so many possibilities, so many people it could be.
I moved from the kitchen towards the front door. I could see in the lights that bordered our walkway the bodies of the guards laying on the ground. I inhaled sharply, not knowing if they were dead. They looked dead, but it was dark outside, and there was only so much light.
In my distraction I didn't notice the person coming up behind me. Well, I probably wouldn't have anyways, as he was deathly silent. I saw his reflection in the glass just seconds before his metal hand covered my mouth, cutting off my scream. I struggled against him, my grip on the knife, tightening as I turned it to try and stab him blindly. His other hand gripped my wrist, a grunt leaving him as he caught it, bending my wrist back until I dropped the knife in pain. I fought him still, trying to kick, hit, anything. My adrenaline was pumping. Was he here to kill me? Was he going to rape me again? Was he going to do both? Get his fix, then murder me?
He finally caught my right arm, bending it behind my back to he could get closer to me.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He said in my ear.
It was the first time I had ever heard him speak more than one word. His voice was different. There was no accent there like there was before. It was rough, like it hadn't been used in a long time. But yet, there was a softness to it. I almost wanted to believe him.
I grabbed his wrist, pulling his arm down and he cried out, loosening his hold. I slipped from his grasp, bolting to my bedroom. I could hear him following me. I slammed my bedroom door shut, running to my bathroom before shutting and locking the door, right as his body slammed into it. I backed up, my back hitting the shower behind me. I was terrified, tears rolling down my cheeks. This could be the end of me.
His metal hand ripped the door handle off, like I'd seen him do before and the door swung open. He stood there, all tall, broad muscle, blocking the only exit I had. My breathing picked up, nothing more than shaky gasps as he took a step forward.
"Don't..." I said, holding out my hand. "Don't come near me!" I willed my voice to stop shaking.
But it wouldn't. As I pleaded to him to stay where he was, not to touch me, tears rolling down my face, my breathing was nothing more than sobs. This was a man who beat me. Who had nearly ripped my arm off, gave me a concussion, nearly blinded me in one eye, stuffed me in a trunk of a car and drove halfway across the country. He'd murdered an innocent police officer in front of me. He'd raped me. Not once, but twice. I'd had nightmares about him.
"I'm not going to hurt you." He said slowly, holding up his left hand, his fist clenched around a knife.
I flinched, ready for him to pounce, feel the knife tear into my skin. I sunk down to the bathroom floor, holding myself so that maybe his attack would miss. But he didn't look like the kind of person to miss. I flinched again as he slid the knife across the bathroom counter, the clang as it fell into the sink loud in my ears. He raised his left arm into the air, giving me half a sign of surrender. His right arm was held tight across his stomach, and there were cuts on his face.
"We need to leave." He said, turning and walking to my bedroom.
I was confused. Very confused. I wiped the tears from my face, getting up slowly, grabbing the knife from the sink, holding it tightly in my hand. I didn't know what to do with it, but at least it made me feel better. I moved to the doorway, watching as he threw clothes into my black backpack. The one I'd had with me when he'd kidnapped me.
"Get shoes on." He said, zipping my backpack. "Meet me outside." He went to leave my room, but I stopped him.
"No." I straightened up a little. "I'm not going anywhere with you." I said, pointing the knife at him. I tried to still my trembling hand as he turned to face me. "Why should I trust you? Do you even know what you did to me?" I shouted the last part.
"We don't have time for this." He said, walking towards me.
I swung the knife at him, but he dodged it, twisting my arm behind my back again before his left hand covered my face, plugging my nose and covering my mouth. My eyes went wide as I tried to breathe, but couldn't. My ears were popping as I slowly lost consciousness, his arms releasing me right as I went under, my body falling to the floor.
He stared down at her crumpled form for a moment. He didn't want to do it, but he didn't have any other choice. He'd had a long day, and he knew HYDRA was after him. He'd let two people live, tired of killing. He didn't know who he was exactly, he had a name, or at least part of one. But he knew HYDRA would be looking for him, so he had to go underground. He'd been halfway there when he'd remembered her. The blonde girl he'd beat up and shoved in a trunk. The girl he'd...he'd been forced to...twice...He knew HYDRA wasn't about to let her go either. They'd kill her. And he couldn't let that happen.
He'd gone to her home, taking out the guards easily. But she'd been awake, something he hadn't counted on. He'd snuck up behind her, disarming her easily. She hadn't been much of a fight, but he was injured, and she'd unknowingly used that against him. She'd run, but he was on her tail. He'd tried telling her he wasn't going to hurt her, but she hadn't listened. But when he saw her in the bathroom, tears falling down her face, sobbing in fear, something inside him snapped. He remembered when he'd first brought her back. She'd grown on him, something he wasn't supposed to let happen. And when his handler had grabbed her arm, the one he'd hurt, he couldn't help himself. He'd protected her. Or he'd tried to.
But then they'd wiped him. Things were blurry after that. He remembered being in this room. Being forced on her as she tried to escape him. She was crying. He'd let her bite his knuckles, to try to ease the pain. He couldn't remember why, though. Then he'd been on her a second time. He'd seen her cry, the tears falling from her eyes in humiliation. He'd forced himself to finish, wanting it to be over as fast as possible for her. But then they'd taken him away, wiped him again. But he remembered now. He remembered what he'd been forced to do. What he'd done to her. His handler had told him to break her, and he had.
She was pleading with him, scared of him. He'd lifted his hand in surrender, and he'd watched her sink to the floor in a defensive pose. She was protecting herself for when he tried to kill her. But he'd put the knife down, sliding it to the sink. He hadn't missed her flinch when it rattled against the porcelain.
He'd remembered why he'd come then, telling her why, before packing a bag for her. He heard her get up, grab the knife and move to the door. She'd watched him carefully as he finished packing her things.
He'd told her to put shoes on, but she'd resisted him. She was still scared, but he didn't have time for this. HYDRA was on his trail, and he didn't want her to be hurt anymore. So he'd have to result to some extreme measures. She'd tried to fight him, but she was shaking too much. He'd have to teach her how to defend herself later. But for now, he needed to get away. Go underground for a few days with her. He'd cut off her breathing, waiting until she was limp before letting her go.
She dropped to the floor in a heap, unconscious, but breathing. He winced as he grabbed her backpack, slinging it over his injured shoulder, grabbing the shoes that were outside her closet door before slinging her over his shoulder with his metal arm. He packed her out of the house to one of the car's parked on the street. The guards were still unconscious, but they wouldn't be for much longer.
He laid her out across the back seat, buckling her in as best he could before climbing in the driver's seat, using the keys he'd pulled off one of the guards to start the car, driving away from the house, and towards the city.