CHAPTER 8

*Please note that Elliot Dawes is an OC of mine and that this happens after Avengers Assembled and before Captain America 2, carrying on into that timeline*

The next week went by extremely slowly. The nurses wouldn't let me leave my little room so I couldn't go wondering. I was left alone, with no family or other patients for company. Nights were the worst. The howling and groaning of the old, the sick and the dying didn't help with the fear that kept me awake. I just kept imagining that awful Red Skull bursting into the room with guns firing. For once I hated my thirst for knowledge. Why can't I be one of those dyed blonde dumb bitches who breaks every guy's heart? I asked myself over and over again. It was too late to revert back to that kind of lifestyle. That would mean having to mouth out of America completely and go back to high school. No. running got me in this god awful prison, I didn't want to end up in a worse place. The pain in my head subsided and a week later, I felt much better. I was a little sad that Steve had been sent on a mission.

"Fury's sending me to North Korea," Steve told me quietly on his last visit. "I don't know how long I'll be away for,"

"Damn," I said grimly. "Who's going to get us fresh milk now?"

Steve chuckled at that. A nurse came in to check my blood pressure and oxygen. I recognised her as the pretty little blonde nurse that moved in not long after Steve did. She eyed Steve up with a small smile. I couldn't help but feel a little protective over Steve. He left shortly after which a red haired woman. She was hot. And I recognised her from some of the files I had read in S.H.I.E.L.D.S database. She was Natasha Romanoff, also known as The Black Widow and she was a badass. I was left with nothing but my thoughts and they were horrible. I kept seeing that terrified family, the mother trying to shield her kids, that horrible, bright red skull, those guns pointing towards me and Steve. They doctors tried to get me therapy but I refused it. I don't need therapy, I need out of here. On the day I was getting released, Natasha Romanoff turned up.

"Fury wants to talk to you," she announced quietly. "Here,"

She handed me a bag of clothes. I hoped somebody was able to get my suitcase back from Florida. It has most of my fortune in it. in the bag was a pair of black, skinny trousers, a black t-shirt and jacket. I pulled them on. I was thankful to find my trusty googles in the bag as well. She had also gotten hold off my old, worn boots as well. I dressed hastily and stuffed everything back in the bag. She was standing outside the room, watching a doctor and a nurse. Neither of them were actual medical staff.

"Looks like hospitals aren't as safe as I thought," I muttered.

"How do you know?" Natasha asked in surprise.

"His trousers are black combat, not smart trousers," I muttered. "And her top is too low cut by hospital standards,"

"We better go," Natasha muttered. "C'mon, let's get you back to Aunt Janet's," she said loudly.

"Aunt Janet's?" I repeated as we walked casually down the stairs. "Why not mum's?"

"Your mum's working and can't get out of it," Natasha said as we reached the end of the corridor.

"Alright," I replied.

I felt nervous. I kept glancing at Natasha. She wasn't Natasha any more- she was Agent Romanoff. She kept a casual stance but I could tell she was bracing herself. There was a tense structure in her face. Her jaw was clenched tightly and her eyes were dead still. She was using her other senses. I tried to copy her stance, trying to appear casual. The elevator arrived eventually. We both got in. the fake doctors also got in as well. Natasha put me in the corner, putting herself between myself and those most likely after me. I hated this- people putting themselves in between me and my problems. Especially when it risked their lives. The minute the elevator doors snapped shut, guns were pulled out. I pressed myself into the corner, shrinking down a little. I doubt I will ever get used to seeing the end of a loaded gun. The Black Widow burst into action. She was as quick as a black widow but had the grace of a swan. Her foot kicked up, smashing into the man's wrist. There was a sickening crunched and he dropped the gun with a cry of pain. The woman fired but she had already rolled out the way and was kicking out with her leg. The bullet smashed into the mirror, cracking it. The female leapt up but The Black Widow was already moving. She barged into the woman, knocking her into the elevator door. The elevator creaked in protest. The Black Widow smashed the female's head into the wall. There was a cracking sound and the female collapsed to the ground, blood trickling from underneath her hairline. The Black Widow turned and smashed the butt of a gun into the shocked and whimpering man's head. He collapsed with a moan.

"Either you're blood brilliant," I said, sounding feint. "Or that was far too easy,"

"You are right, it was sloppy work," She replied, returning to Natasha Romanoff. "We've been compromised," she said quietly, pressing her hand to her ear. "Get us out front,"

I was shocked when the elevator dinged open. Everything had happened so fast, it amazed me that it all had happened in the space of six floors. We walked out, me probably looking like a nervous wreck and Natasha looking calm and collective. She just left the two unconscious (or dead) people in the lift. As we stepped out, several people in black walked in. I assumed by Natasha's calm nature they were on our side. I never had a side until now. It was weird. We walked outside just as a slick, black, Mercedes pulled up. The window rolled down and I let out a gasp.