Voices Inside Me

An Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes FanFiction

Hey guys! Sorry the update has taken so long, but for some reason I decided to join the school musical this year, and then I had a major debate tournament (I qualified for nationals :)) so this is the first times I have actually been able to write.

Also, I've been having personal issues. Went to a doctor, turns out I have mild depression and social anxiety, so that explains the sporadic updates now and in the future. I apologize again.

And also again, I'm aware that some of the stuff in this chapter isn't exactly canon, but then again, it's not exactly not canon.

Here you go! Sorry it's short!

Disclaimer: I do not own A:EMH.

Chapter 6

Rinnnnngggg.

Riiiinnnnnggggggg.

As Annabeth gained consciousness, she could only hear ringing. Feeling herself groan yet not hearing it, she put a hand to her forehead and tried to sit up, only for someone to push her back down. Slowly opening her eyes, she blinked against the bright light and willed them to focus.

Eventually, her vision became slightly less blurred (she realized that she didn't have her glasses on) and she saw faces staring down at her. Confusion marred her ability to think, and the incessant ringing in her ears certainly wasn't helping matters. Distantly, she became aware that Tony and Steve were each holding down her shoulders, and Dr. Pym was standing blank-faced besides the super soldier.

"What…" she started to say, but she cut herself off, her hand shooting up to her neck. She could feel herself making the sounds, but she couldn't hear it. "What is going on?!"

Her eyes widened, and panic began to set in. "Why can't I hear myself? What happened?"

Judging by the winces from the men, she must have yelled those last two questions. She would have felt sorry, but she was too alarmed to do anything. She struggled harder to sit up, but the heroes just pushed her back down again, shaking their heads.

Riiiiiinnnngggg. Rinnng. Rinnnnggggg!

The ringing continued on, unceasingly railing in her mind, driving out all sane thought. She closed her eyes tight and clasped her hands over her ears, beginning to panic as she felt herself go into sensory overload. Shaking off the hands holding her down, she curled into the fetal position, panicking even more as she felt herself whimper but couldn't hear it.

Less than a minute later, the bed-thing she was on shifted as someone sat down next to her. Strong arms enfolded her securely. Assuming it was the captain holding her, she leaned into the person, letting out sobs that she couldn't hear, feeling her own shoulders shake. The person holding her began rubbing circles in her back uncertainly. As her sobbing began to slow, she became aware of a strong scent, one that she knew she knew…

Her eyes widened. Motor oil? The likelihood of the captain smelling like oil was next to none compared to…

She pulled back in a rush, feeling Stark's arms fly from around her in startled surprise. She retreated to the far corner of the bed and watched as Tony gave Steve the kind of shrug that said, hey, I tried.

Annabeth jumped again when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't hear anyone approach, but then again, she didn't hear much of anything right now. She looked up and found Jan looking at her with pity in her eyes. She reached out and gently wiped off the tears that Annabeth hadn't realized were still pouring down her face. Annabeth shook her head wildly, making the hands touching her fly off. No human contact… that was the opposite of good right now.

Everyone seemed to take the hint. They gathered at the foot of the gurney-bed thing; Annabeth still hadn't quite figured out what it was. Steve and Jan looked sympathetic; Hank and Tony simply had blank looks on their face. Annabeth looked closer, and saw something stirring in Tony's eyes, something she couldn't quite place.

They were all at an impasse. No one knew quite what to do. Annabeth grew impatient, wondering what the heck was going on. She opened her mouth to speak, could feel herself forming the words, but couldn't hear them still. There was only the ringing.

Riiiiinnngg. Ring. Rinnnnnggggg.

She immediately stopped trying to speak, disliking the feeling of not knowing how hear words were coming out. Instead she started gesturing madly, trying to get her frustration and questions across. Dr. Pym began to say something, but Annabeth shook her head, the tears still coming at an alarming rate. No, I can't understand a word you're saying. No, I can't read lips. No, I can't hear anything!

She kept shaking her head, hoping this was all a dream, hoping that she would wake up, hoping that something would make this better, something would make her understand and understood. Her vision blurred even more, until she couldn't comprehend anything. Couldn't see anything, couldn't feel anything, and, of course, couldn't hear anything.

Her tears began to slow after who knows how long. The four adults still were at the foot of the bed, still uncertain as to what to do.

Her tears stopped completely. She had cried herself dry. She was about to start a game of Charades again when she noticed the adults flinch and look to her left. Following their gaze, she saw a livid Clint stalking through the door to wherever they were, the door swinging wildly behind him. He had probably slammed to door open; explained the flinches of the heroes. She watched, confused as Clint started yelling and Steve responded calmly. Annabeth realized that she didn't have her glasses on as she saw an object in Clint's hand but couldn't tell what it was. The ringing in her ears passed out of her thoughts as she watched the exchange, trying to figure out what was going on.

Clint rolled his eyes and pushed past Steve impatiently. His anger faded as he approached Annabeth cautiously. As he got closer, Annabeth could see that he was holding two little notepads, along with… were those sparkly gel pens?

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at them. Clint offered a soft smile, totally different from his normal, arrogant attitude. He handed her one notepad the green pen, keeping the pink to himself and making Annabeth give a wimpy little giggle in the process. He scrawled out in chicken scratch, first pens I could find. Don't judge.

Annabeth gave another little giggle as he continued writing. Let me guess. These knuckleheads haven't explained anything to you.

Annabeth shook her head, her knuckles going white from clutching the pen too tightly. Clint rolled his eyes. He tapped the end of his pen against his leg contemplatively for a second, before starting to write again. I didn't understand all the science-bio-techno-mumbo-jumbo…

Annabeth straight up laughed at that.

…But basically, Ultron did something to severely damage your ears. Your balance is permanently altered, and as of now, you are pretty much completely deaf. There is a chance that you may regain some hearing in your right ear with the help of hearing aids, but it'll never be perfect, and… He hesitated for a second.

…You'll be legally deaf for the rest of your life.

To Annabeth's surprise, tears didn't come rushing back. Instead, she just started shaking. The green gel pen fell forgotten out of her hand, the notebook right behind it. Nothing came, no sobs, no screams of denial, just…numbing nothing.

Strong large hands wrapped around hers tightly, stopping their trembling. One released her right hand, reached down to pick up the pen and pad, and pressed them gently into her palm. She looked up, to find that Clint had already written out a message for her to read. While still holding her left hand firmly, his other hand held up the pad. Don't worry. This won't beat you. The others might not know what to do, but trust me. I can help.

He paused, concern written in his eyes. He wrote, Come on. Let me know you are with me. Talk to me.

With slow, cautionary movements, he flipped open the pad, unclipped the gel pen, and guided her hand to rest the tip of the pen on the paper. He withdrew his hands from around her own an instead placed them gently on her shoulders. He nodded in encouragement, and Annabeth shakily wrote on the paper. How?

Instead of writing out a reply, Clint gently took the pen from her and capped it. He then carefully guided her still-trembling hand towards his head, placing her fingers right behind his ear. Annabeth's eyes widened in surprise as her fingers fell on the plastic of a hearing aid.

Clint gave her an odd, vulnerable smile. His eyes said it all. Been there, done that. I can help you.

Careful to maintain eye contact with the girl, Clint began signing simple messages to her. Hello. Nice to meet you. A, B, C, D.

He felt a slight thrill at the wonder he saw in her eyes. And something more.

Hope.

When he lost his hearing, Clint wouldn't let anyone help him. He wouldn't admit that he needed their help. Clint wouldn't wish that experience on anyone.

Okay, maybe there were a few villains he would wish that on, but he would never put it upon a teenage girl.

She wasn't going through this alone. Not on his watch.

He grabbed to notepad once again, and, after wiggling the pink pen in Annabeth's face in the effort to elicit a giggle, which, he might add, was successful, he began writing. I'll help you. Teach you ASL and all that. Clint paused, feeling a sudden flow of doubt. That is, if you want my help.

The girl stilled a little bit, obviously thinking some deep, philosophical thoughts, and Clint took the time to survey her. He tried to hold in a chuckle, knowing that it was definitely not the right time to laugh. He could hardly help it, however. The whole situation was so fantastical that his mind was screwed up any way.

Well, more than it had been in the first place.

Annabeth's weird, blonde-brown hair was a frizzy mess. There were red lines on her face from laying on the pillow in an odd position, and her eyes were slightly glazed without her glasses there to guide them. Clint resisted looking at the silver eye that Ultron had apparently given her; it was just another reminder that their failure had effed-up an innocent's life.

His eyes flew to her hands as they wrote out a message. Annabeth had one of those strange handwriting styles halfway between cursive and print, and it took Clint a little time to decipher it.

I would like that. Thank you.

His arrogant grin returning, Clint was once again his normal self. He held out his right hand and gave Annabeth's a firm shake. When do you want to start? He wrote.

Annabeth tried somewhat successfully to match his smile. Now.

Steve, Tony, Jan, and Hank watched in amazement as Clint interacted with the girl. This Clint… this Clint was definitely not the Clint they saw walking around the mansion everyday.

Steve couldn't believe it. Annabeth had been panicking, and yet, all it took were a few simple, written words to calm her down.

Communication, Steve realized. She's smart. Her mind is constantly trying to analyze what's going on, trying to make those connections. When she can't understand what's happening… Steve nodded to himself. Made sense. Reminded him of Tony, in a way, too.

And speaking of Tony…

Steve tried not to wince at the memory of Annabeth practically shoving Tony away. Steve had been happy with him for trying, but it seemed that Annabeth didn't share his sentiment. He had watched Tony shrug it off as if it were no big deal, but Steve knew his friend a little too well. Tony cared too much. That was why he pretended not to care at all.

Steve was startled out of his thoughts by Annabeth trying to stand up. Doctor Pym had warned the Avengers that her balance would be affected, but nevertheless, Annabeth still nearly fell on her face before the team's resident archer caught her. Clint wrapped an arm securely around her shoulders and began guiding her out of the room. Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Clint stuck his tongue out at the other four adults as he passed.

Once Clint and Annabeth were safely out of the room, the door swinging closed behind them, Jan voice what they were all thinking. "What just happened?"

Hank shrugged. "Clint knows what she's going through. He must have known that having someway of communicating would calm her down a little bit."

"But this is the same Clint who called her a cyborg," Tony pointed out.

"He cares," Steve said simply. "He may not admit it, but he feels just as much guilt towards what happened to her as any of us do."

There was a lull in the conversation, before Jan piped up. "I think we should all learn sign language."

Everyone stared at her. "What? It would be a good surprise for the girl. It's the least we could do, I mean, we literally took away everything from her by proxy. Think. She can't even play the piano right now."

Steve and Tony made eye contact right away. Even though they had never spoken about it, they both knew that the piano was Annabeth's outlet. Without another word, Tony turned on his heel to leave the room. "Where are you going?" Hank called after him.

"To my lab. I need to get started on her hearing aids." Tony paused, glancing at Jan. "And I think that's a great idea."

Annabeth lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing she could talk to anyone, even JARVIS. Or maybe especially JARVIS. With a huff, she rolled over, trying not to admit to herself how much her inability to hear the shifting sheets disturbed her.

Ring. Riiiiiiiiiinnnnngggg. Riiiinngg.

She clasped her hands over her ears, wishing that dreadful ringing would stop. But no rest for the weary, apparently.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnngggggg.

It was going to drive her insane.

Oh, yes. It very well might.

Annabeth froze. Of course she couldn't hear anyone but the masochistic, misogynistic, pessimistic robot currently living in her brain. Okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly that, but he might as well be.

I told you I would break you.

Annabeth just stayed still, praying that Ultron would remain silent until she fell asleep.