Warnings for mentions of repeated sexual assault, characters rationalizing why the sexual assaults are okay, captivity, drug use. And warnings for torture, including with a power drill.
The foreboding words on your arm
Chapter 9
She can't hurt you anymore, Clarke
In her prison, Clarke had woken up, had gone to the bathroom, had washed her hands, had grabbed food and eaten it and had waited on the bed, with the blankets wrapped around her.
The disturbing thing she had realized as she sat there, was that, some part of her was utterly satisfied by what she had felt, when Bruce, Elektra, Sam, Frank, Carol and Luke had done to her.
She knew there was a possibility that she might just be in shock after having been sexually assaulted.
But she also knew that that wasn't the truth.
She wasn't in shock. She wasn't numb.
Every moment she had been subjected to? She had enjoyed.
That was the fucked up part of all this. Clarke shivered.
That was the most disgusting part of all this.
She had enjoyed it.
But she remembered what her six mates in the room with her had said. That this wasn't her fault. That they were the ones at fault, not her.
Clarke wasn't sure how to deal with all this.
Then a voice came through the speaker, telling her to get dressed, and that they wanted her to see Abby, who they had caught.
Now? In this room with Abby chained up, Clarke felt like this was unreal. It honestly, really felt unreal.
This couldn't actually be happening.
But it was.
Here she was, being held captive by her mates, six of them having raped her repeatedly.
And here her biological mother was. And she was being chained up and being prepared, Clarke presumed, for torture and murder.
Clarke couldn't take her eyes off of her mother, horror overtaking her.
She at last, looked the mates closest to her and whispered, "You need to let her go."
"Why?" One woman, with long, chocolate brown hair asked, "So, she can go unpunished after she abandoned you? Made you feel like dirt? No, Clarke. We can't let her get away with that. You need to see yourself being avenged. And we'll do that for you."
Clarke snapped, glaring at the other woman, "I don't want you too!"
Then again, as she had learned the hard way, these people didn't listen to her protests.
And her awareness of this fact was proven when one of the men, a tall, blonde man said, smiling sadly, "You might not want us to. But it's what you need."
Clarke glared at him then, as she snapped, "Listen here,…" she then stopped, realizing something.
"What are your names?" She asked, figuring that she would need to know that, if she wanted to say anything to them properly. Or snap at them properly.
"Oh," the blonde man said, smiling and gestured to himself, "My name's Steve Rogers."
The chocolate haired woman who had spoken before, smiled in adoration at Clarke as she said, "My name's Wanda Maximoff, sweetie."
The silver-haired man next to Wanda smirked as he said, "Name's Pietro Maximoff, baby. Wanda's twin brother."
"My name's Danny Rand," Danny said from next to Pietro.
One by one, they each introduced themselves to Clarke. She knew all of their names after that.
After the rest were introduced to Clarke, Steve nodded to Tony, Pepper, Carol, Bruce, Sam, Frank, Elektra and Luke, "I believe you already know Pepper, Tony, Carol, Sam, Frank, Bruce, Luke and Elektra."
Clarke nodded to Tony and Pepper, then sent a nervous glance to Carol, Frank, Sam, Bruce, Elektra and Luke, before looking away.
Watching Clarke look away, several of Clarke's mates winced.
They didn't like her being afraid of them.
But then, this was all their fault, wasn't it?
"In any case," Maria said, smirking down at Abby, who, as Pepper and Tony had gone to retrieve Clarke, was threatened by Maria herself, to keep her mouth shut, or Maria would slit the other woman's throat.
Maria made it unimaginably clear to Abby, that the older woman was to be silent, while they introduced themselves to Clarke.
She more or less threatened to cut off Abby's feet if she spoke a word to Clarke, before she was given permission to do so.
Maria continued, "Now that that's out of the way," she picked a knife up from the tray of tools on the tray before her, and gestured the sharp end of the tool at Abby, "I think we should get started. Clarke, how slowly do you want Abby to die?"
Clarke looked at Maria, her eyes wide as she said urgently, "I don't want her to die at all!"
Maria looked at Clarke, smirking, conviction in her eyes as her blue eyes met Clarke's.
Clarke almost shrank back, reading the question in Maria's eyes. Maria said, without even a verbal word to Clarke, was, "Don't you want her to die? Don't you?"
Clarke clenched her jaw.
She knew better than to deny it. These people had been watching her for a very, very long time.
They knew.
They knew what she wanted and didn't want.
And they knew that one of the things that she wanted? Was Abby Griffin, her mother, to suffer for what she had done to her.
She wanted Abby to suffer for abandoning her.
She wanted Abby to suffer for everything she had been put through, throughout her life.
Clarke didn't hate Abby. At least, she didn't think she did. But she certainly resented her mother.
And as disgusting as it was? She had fantasized many times about the woman's death.
It was gruesome and sick.
Because how could she want such a thing?
Wasn't it inhuman for her to fantasize something like that? Wasn't it just wrong?
But as Clarke observed the unconvinced expressions on her mates' faces, what else did she see?
No judgment. No judgment, whatsoever.
These people weren't judging her for what she wanted.
She wasn't dirty or fucked up or wrong, for what she wanted.
Clarke's eyes widened, recognizing this.
Everything Clarke had just comprehended, must have been clear on her face, because several of the smiles on her mates' faces widened.
"That's right, Clarke," Wanda said, "There's nothing horrid about what you want. Anyone who wasn't self-centered and arrogant, wouldn't judge. They would understand. You were a little girl and were abandoned at a young age. Left for dead. Unwanted. Left alone to be raised by an orphanage, tossed from one home to another. Completely alone, until you started making friends at your job. Of course, we understand. And she would deserve what you want to have done to her. It's just that supposed 'polite society' tells you that what you want is wrong."
Clarke shifted, uncomfortable. She had a feeling that Wanda was alluding to something else, besides her wanting Abby dead.
Hela confirmed that a second later as she said, smirking at Clarke, "Polite society tells you that you're wrong for wanting you want in sex. For wanting to be fucked as thoroughly as you want to be fucked. But it isn't wrong. What you want is natural. You are not sick for wanting the sex you want. Polite society will tell you that you are sick for having the fantasies that you have. But when you've been denied the pleasure that you've wanted for so long, of course, you are going to fantasize more of it."
Clarke shivered.
Because wasn't it sick? The number of rape fantasies she'd had throughout the years would have disturbed just about anyone. But this too, Clarke realized with growing shock, was something that her mates had given her, wasn't it?
That was, after all, what Carol, Frank, Luke, Elektra, Bruce and Sam had done for her before?
And they had made it clear, that they were at fault for what was happening. They had never blamed her, ever.
Unlike Abby, who always would blame Clarke, for every single small thing that went wrong at their home, before Abby eventually abandoned her own daughter.
The staff at the orphanage, the foster and adoptive families and a lot of the other kids at the orphanage? They all told Clarke that anything that happened, it was her fault.
They were happy to make her into a scapegoat.
"That's right," Maria said, "Nothing you want is wrong. And so, wanting Abby Griffin dead? It's not wrong. Now, why don't we start making her pay for abandoning you?"
Clarke gasped.
Even if she had fantasized about her mother being killed, didn't mean she actually wanted it to happen. It didn't mean that it was right.
She made a lunge for Abby and Maria, but she gasped, when she felt hands on her arms, holding her arms behind her back, restraining her.
"What-?" She gasped, looking behind her.
It was Thor, the large, muscled, blonde man with the beard, he had her arms restrained tightly. Thor smiled at her, the smile was practically dubious, as if Thor was incapable of anything malicious.
"It's alright, Clarke," a male voice said next to her, to her left and Clarke turned to look at who was speaking.
It was Loki.
He came over to Clarke, right hand reaching out, gently stroking it across Clarke's left cheek. "It's alright, Clarke," he repeated, and he smiled at her and the smile was far more devious than Thor's, "We're just going to give Abby what she deserves. And give you what you want in doing so."
Clarke wanted to protest and say that she didn't want this, that she didn't want Abby to be tortured to death. But she knew that that would be pointless. They knew the truth.
"Now, then," Maria chuckled as she looked down at Abby, "Any last words, Abby Griffin?"
Finally, Abby realized that she had the chance to speak, so, she'd better take advantage of it.
She looked at the people around her and pleaded, "Please, if you love Clarke at all, don't do this. Don't kill me."
All three Natasha, Laura and Clint laughed.
"You are fucking kidding me," Clint snorted.
Natasha leaned close, staring into Abby's face mercilessly, as she said, her voice icy, "You are going to die today. And you are going to die very, very painfully."
Abby didn't even have the chance to protest, as Maria swooped forward and began cutting the blade of the weapon she had in her hand, into the right side of the other woman's jaw.
Abby screamed and Clarke froze, feeling tears begin to prick her eyes. She struggled in Thor's grip, whimpering, but she heard sighs around her and she saw Wanda and Jessica step forward.
As Pepper pulled a knife off of the tray and began cutting the blade into Abby's right arm, slicing at a piece of meat of the arm, making Abby shriek in pain, Wanda's right hand went over Clarke's eyes and Jessica reached out with both hands and covered her ears.
"It's alright, sweetie," Wanda said, "You don't have to see any of this. Or hear any of this, either."
She could feel herself being moved back by Thor, and Wanda and Jessica moved with him, keeping their hands where they were.
She heard metal doors opening up and felt herself being pulled in somewhere, then heard those same metal doors close up.
Only when the metal doors were closed up, did the hand over her eyes and the hands on her ears, leave her.
Clarke gasped looking around.
She, Thor, Jessica and Wanda, were in the same hallway that Clarke had been escorted out of by Pepper and Tony.
Clarke looked at the closed metal doors, as Thor finally released her arms.
"I don't hear anything," Clarke said numbly.
"We know," Wanda said, nodding, "That's the point. We had some reinforced metal so a lot couldn't be heard. And you can't hear what's being done to Abby, at least."
Clarke shuddered.
Right now, Abby likely was being cut to pieces. And Clarke couldn't do a thing about it.
"Come on," Jessica said, nodding back in the direction of Clarke's prison, "We'll get you back to your room."
Clarke might have laughed, if it was in any way, less fucked up.
Her "room." Nice way of saying, "your cage."
Clarke glared at the three of her mates in front of her, but turned and started walking, with Thor, Jessica and Wanda trailing after her.
Clarke thought about trying to get between them and run to the metal door and seeing if she could open it and try to help Abby. But she knew it would never work.
They would grab her before she could get even close to the metal doors, and she'd never be able to figure out how to open the metal doors without their help.
When they reached the prison where Clarke was being kept, Clarke walked to her bed and sat down on the edge of it, glaring at the three of her mates, as they closed the metal doors of her prison behind them.
The bed wasn't the only piece of furniture in here.
There were also chairs around the room, but sofa chairs. Clearly put in here specifically because of how comfortable they were.
Clearly, Clarke's physical comfort meant a great deal to all of them.
Clarke snapped, "Is Abby going to die today?"
"Yes," Thor said, without even hesitating, "And she'll pray for death by the time the others are finished torturing her, so, it might actually come as a mercy to her by that point."
Clarke shuddered again, looking away.
"How do all of you live with yourselves?" She asked quietly.
"Quite easily, actually," Wanda said, voice soft, "All we know is that what we're doing is for you."
"And we've done a lot to get where we are," Jessica chuckled, "We don't have the best records, as I'm sure you've guessed. We have all this tech, because we've done a lot of…underhanded things for it. And we have a way of disposing of Abby, when we're done with her. And we can live with ourselves, because a lot of the time? The things we do, are necessary."
"'Necessary?" Clarke snapped, "Like abducting me, holding me prisoner for an undetermined amount of time, and raping me over and over again?"
Clarke watched them, and at last, there seemed to be some sign of guilt, as Thor lost his smile, Wanda winced and Jessica's jaw clenched somewhat.
Jessica said then, "You have every right to be angry. But remember, we've watched you for two years practically. We know about your drug habits. We know what happened on June 28th, two years ago."
Clarke's eyes widened and she stiffened.
Oh, they had seen…that.
There were times, admittedly, when Clarke, in the past, hadn't been sure if she would wake up the next morning. She would take so many drugs, sometimes reach her place, blackout drunk or drugged out of her mind.
And on June the 28th, two years ago? That had been the worst.
Her body must have been at least, seventy percent cocaine, that night.
Somehow, she had gotten herself home. And no, she knew that no one carried her home that night. She remembered stumbling through the streets, to her apartment door.
She at times had still been shocked that no one had taken advantage of her clearly completely intoxicated state.
But then, now that she thought about it, her mates must have been watching her and making sure no one tried to assault her in any way.
And if they'd been watching her that whole time? Then they knew just how fucked up she had been that night.
And that she had been lucky to wake up the next morning.
So, needless to say, they knew that she had a serious drug habit.
She exhaled deeply. Okay, maybe she couldn't find herself being too hard on them about keeping her here, even if it was against her will, so that she could stop being addicted to drugs.
So, okay, she wasn't going to fault them entirely for being that desperate.
But the many sexual assaults? Abby?
"Fine," Clarke snapped, staring at Jessica, Wanda and Thor, "I guess I can understand why you're holding me here and trying to keep me from drugs. But everything else? What about the sexual assaults? And what about Abby?"
Again, all three of her mates tensed up at that.
"Abby abused you. She abandoned you," Jessica growled, "We're giving her what she deserves. And don't pretend that you don't want her dead, even if you don't want to admit it."
Clarke clenched her jaw. Again, they knew that she wanted Abby's death. That the resentment had built up over time. And she had fantasized about the older woman's death many times.
She was just too ashamed to admit it.
Because who would wish their own mother dead and still be expected to be seen as a decent person?
"And the sexual assaults?" Wanda asked, her voice soft, "Clarke, we know this is our fault. And after all this? When you no longer wish to put poison in your body, and we let you out of here, we won't stop you from taking retribution."
Clarke looked at Wanda, startled. Was Wanda saying that if Clarke chose to get revenge on them for what they were doing here, they wouldn't even try to defend themselves.
All three Wanda, Jessica and Thor, appeared in no way like they were lying about this.
Jessica sighed, "Look, Clarke, we know what we're doing is fucked up. And we won't do anything, if you want to hurt us for what we're doing. But in the meantime?" A snicker crossed Jessica's face as she said, "We're happy to give you what you want."
"Yes," Thor said, "We know that you for the longest time, have not gotten the pleasure you have yearned for. And we are simply fixing that. We will give you what you want over and over again, even if you were told that wanting such pleasure, makes you dirty. It doesn't. We are the ones at fault. We are taking the choice from you. So, you are doing nothing wrong."
Thor's words hit Clarke hard and she gasped, comprehending.
They understood that Clarke felt like she would be wrong, dirty and unlovable even more than she already felt, if she went through with the sort of sex that she wanted. She had been both unfulfilled and yet relieved, for the longest time with her former partners, finding them unable to give her the pleasure she wanted.
And she had been relieved exactly because of the social expectations dumped onto her.
But by her mates sexually assaulting her? She wasn't making any choice. She wasn't choosing to do the things that she had been told were "wrong" and "dirty."
Her mates were the ones doing everything wrong. They were taking the choice out of her hands, so that she would be free to enjoy the sex that she wanted.
(This is so fucked up,) Clarke thought to herself.
And it was. It was very fucked up. And she knew it was even more fucked up, that she felt actual gratitude in that moment, realizing what Thor was saying.
But she was grateful, nonetheless. Because she didn't have to worry about anything. No one's expectations of her. No one's fantasies of her. No one's demands that she be what they wanted. She could just enjoy what she wanted to enjoy and not worry that she was the one that was doing anything wrong.
Clarke swallowed hard. It was really fucked up that she was glad that they were doing this in some way.
But her mind then went back to Abby.
"Even if some part of me wants Abby dead," Clarke said, "That doesn't make killing her or torturing her, okay."
"Doesn't it?" Wanda asked, "Abby abandoned you. She didn't even leave you with someone who wanted a child and would have been a good parent to you. She could have left you with a responsible parent or parents to be raised and looked after. But no, she didn't even do that. To her? You were nothing. Why shouldn't she be nothing to you? Because a child is supposed to love their parent unconditionally, even when the parent abandons the child?"
Wanda added, before Clarke could protest, "Who committed the first betrayal, Clarke? Her or you? She was the one that betrayed you first. She abandoned you. If she is being tortured now? It's a fate she brought on herself."
Clarke wrapped her arms around herself, closing her eyes.
She wasn't going to be able to save Abby's life. That was clear enough.
She heard Wanda sigh softly, "She can't hurt you anymore, Clarke."
Back in the room where Abby was being tortured, the others ignored Abby's screams, as Tony printed out the documents that they'd have Abby sign.
Tony brought the documents over.
These documents made it clear, that Clarke was to be the sole recipient of every ounce of money that Abby had. Including the money which she had bilked out of Clarke, that had been left rightfully to her by her father, Jake.
Tony dropped the stack of papers in front of Abby, and a pen was shoved into Abby's undamaged right hand, and Natasha pushed Abby down against the desk where the papers were.
"Sign all of these," Natasha commanded, voice hateful, "And we will kill you more quickly. You're going to die, one way or another. But this? This way, we'll kill you quickly."
Abby looked at Natasha, panicked, her face streaked with tears, as blood trickled down from her forehead and she looked at the documents. Her eyes widened, seeing what these documents were saying.
"No-" she began to protest.
But she was cut off and forced to scream, when she felt something literally drill into her right leg, right into the bone.
She looked down, her face filled with agony, and she saw one of the men, "Frank," she thought she heard the others call him, holding a power drill at her leg, drilling right into her leg's bone.
"Sign it now," Frank growled, "Give your daughter what is rightfully hers. Or we'll drill into every bone of your body."
Abby felt the agony be consumed with horror. And she sobbed in pain and despair as she turned back to the documents and did as she was told, and began to sign her name, furiously.
Frank smirked, switching the power drill off.
The others stepped back and smirked, watching.
They had lied, of course. They weren't going to kill Abby more quickly. They were going to still torture her to death.
But it was convenient that Abby believed them.
When Abby finished signing everything away to Clarke, Pepper took the papers from the desk, and smiled sweetly at Abby as she said, "Thank you, so much, Abby, now have fun being tortured to death."
Pepper turned and walked down the next hall, to file the papers away so that Clarke could have everything legally.
And she grinned, when she heard Abby screaming in absolute agony, as the sound of the power drill started up again.
Abby couldn't hurt Clarke anymore.
And now? Now everything that Abby had, was going to belong to Clarke.
And after the others were done tearing Abby to pieces? They would destroy Abby's body. And bring Clarke Abby's head, so that Clarke could see that the woman that had destroyed Clarke, couldn't do anything to harm her. Not anymore.
