Hey, thanks for waiting guys. School's been crazy and I'm pretty sure I'm failing at least four of my seven classes. Nevertheless, thank you for tuning back in on how I continue to escape modern life by torturing my characters. T. Rycbar for edits. Happy reading!
(Trigger warning for the aftermath of torture- including injuries and a moment of panic)
IDontOwnMarvel
Clint wasted no time pulling off the wires on Lincoln before releasing her from the wall and picking her up. It was a delicate process but he wanted to move quickly since this section hadn't been cleared just yet. He stepped over a dead guard on his way out and made a mental note of the camera in the room before making a turn down the hall. Lincoln, meanwhile, was completely out of it and didn't so much as twitch when Clint began jogging back the way he came.
He did his best not to jostle her too much as he continued on through the maze of hallways, but he couldn't afford to move too slowly. He had a very short window of time to get out of there, and it was already drawing to a close. Luckily, the hallways were still empty, and mostly quiet except for the occasional gun shot echoing from somewhere much further away.
Clint passed a final glance behind him before pushing open the door to exit the building, only to come face to face with a Hydra operative. Before he could even think of reacting, the guard had drawn his gun and was taking aim. Clint instinctively began to reach for his quiver, but was impeded by the weight of Lincoln's still form in his arms. Too late, he realized that he was going to be on the losing end of this encounter. Almost in slow motion, he watched as the guard took aim and...disappeared. A blast from somewhere above had sent the guard keeling over with a sickening thud onto the stairwell platform, dust and broken concrete piling up around him until he was practically buried alive.
Clint shook off the uneasiness of his close call as Tony dropped through the new hole in the ceiling, turning to face his teammate more fully. Lincoln, finally stirring a little after the sudden noise, mumbled something about 'Winnie' before falling silent again.
"Jesus, what'd they do to her?" Tony asked softly, flipping his helmet up as his attention turned fully to the kid for the first time.
Clint didn't know what to say to that. He'd seen the aftermath of torture before, endured it himself a couple of times, even, but never a kid. So far, he didn't like the way it sat with him, hardened agent or not. Instead of trying to answer, he just shook his head and started up the flights of stairs to the roof. Tony, to his credit, didn't seem bothered by the lack of response. He just flipped his helmet back into place and continued down the hall, leaving Clint to get Lincoln safely on the Quinjet.
Agent Hill was securing a stretcher to the wall of the jet when he got there, and he carefully set Lincoln down. The change seemed to be enough to finally snap the kid back into consciousness, although she seemed to be in a mild state of shock. Until Agent Hill attempted to lift her arm to look at a particularly nasty cut there, in fact, Lincoln was giggling quietly to herself. But at the touch of the older woman, the smile dropped off her face in an instant and she hissed in pain.
"Sorry, sorry," Maria muttered, letting go of her arm and continuing to check over her body for any wounds that needed immediate attention.
Clint stepped back until he sat down in a seat across from them.
Shouldn't have left her with those idiots. He cursed, stomach twisting more every time her face contorted in pain.
"Stupid Winnie." Lincoln drawled, finally pulling away from Maria's touch on her own. She wrapped herself in a tight ball and started shaking her head at the Agent who stepped back, apparently satisfied that there were no life-threatening injuries.
Steve eventually boarded the jet with Natasha at his heels and paused in front of Lincoln's huddled form, expression contorting into one of concern. Natasha shoved him forwards into a seat and he sat down, but his eyes never left the kid. As for Clint, he needed a minute to gather himself after seeing the kid like that. He leaned back in his seat, pretending to settle in for a nap so he didn't have to talk to anyone for a while. Natasha gave him a knowing look but didn't bother attempting to talk to him. Clint knew she would never admit it, but seeing the kid like that had gotten to her too. Before he closed his eyes for his fake nap, he caught sight of her sneaking glances at the kid every so often, only looking up in earnest when Tony entered the Quinjet.
The trip from the Hydra base to DC was expected to take two excruciatingly long hours. Clint half slept while still listening to the kid in the seat across from him, ears straining to pick up any sign of distress. Lincoln fell asleep about halfway through the trip and Steve tossed another blanket over her. Not even five minutes after she'd fallen asleep, her sleep-addled voice began calling quietly for Ellie. Tony looked up in alarm, but Clint just stood, giving up all pretenses of being asleep so he could wake the kid before she started yelling like last time.
Clint wasn't oblivious to the others watching him as he shook the kid awake, doing his best to school his expression so she didn't pick up on his own unease from the situation.
"You alright, kid?" he asked quietly, kneeling down so her view of the others was partially blocked by his shoulders. She looked around a little confusedly before she seemed to recognize her surroundings, opening and closing her mouth several times before finally managing to form a reply.
"Fine," she whispered back. "Just…"
"Bad dream?" Clint guessed, lips twitching up into a small smile. Lincoln nodded once, looking back down to her lap.
"Well, if you need anything I'm right over there, ok?" he asked, gesturing vaguely behind him to his seat on the other side of the hangar. She gave another short nod, and Clint took that as his signal to leave.
He stood up again and went back to his seat, settling back down to continue his fake nap. He'd actually started to doze off in earnest when a slight movement in the seat next to him drew his attention. Lincoln was in the midst of drawing her legs up onto the formerly empty seat next to him, her expression pinched and her eyes fixated on the floor as if it were about to drop out from under them. Clint quickly closed his eyes again, but not before wrapping an arm around her so his arm became a makeshift pillow. It didn't take long for them both to fall asleep.
My eyes adjusted to the light around me while I was guided back out of the plane. No, not guided - carried. I started pushing away from the person in a panic and ended up landing hard on the ground.
"Ow, mother fucker!" I exclaimed, rolling off my previously bruised hip.
My mind was working a little faster after the short rest on the plane and I whipped my head around in all directions, taking in the surroundings with my one good eye. Concrete below me, building in front, planes… night time, huh. Probably the heli-carrier.
"Hey, it's alright, we made it back." A man placed a hand on my shoulder to which I reacted by shoving him off and leaning away.
When I finally recognized the face, Clint had the same look of poorly-disguised sadness as when he woke me up on the plane. That made me feel a little bad.
"Sorry." I murmured, coming down from the shot of adrenaline and climbing to my feet again with some assistance from him.
He shrugged it off and wrapped my arm over his shoulder. This way, we followed the others inside and out of the wind.
All the others except… I turned my head, seeing a second familiar face behind me. I giggled weakly at his continued need to walk behind everyone else.
Clint looked at me weirdly as we walked in the first set of doors. "What's so funny?"
"Stevie's checking you out." I whispered, just out of earshot from the Super Soldier. I laughed a little harder at that only stopping when it hurt my chest and stomach. "Ouch."
Clint smiled and looked behind him before leaning closer "Yeah, he does that with Bucky too."
I snickered and tried to keep my legs from giving out below me while we walked further into the building.
They put me through a CT scan to check for internal bleeding which, luckily for me, was nonexistent. However, they did find and patch up the two square electrical burns that I had gotten a few hours ago and wrote something down about a mild concussion and a large pattern of bruising. I almost laughed at the so-called 'mild concussion'. The headache I had said that it was anything but mild, but the doctor disagreed.
My mind was still wandering to several different places when I sat down in a small room across from Natasha's and Clint's. I wasn't so sure where Steve went because he had branched off somewhere else when we got inside. Tony had also gone in the same direction which bothered me slightly, but tried not to dwell on it. After all, if they were going to kill each other over Bucky, they would have done it by now. Right?
It was then that I looked down at my tattered and filthy clothing. It had been my original outfit from home, but since being locked up with a bunch of maniacs, it was wearing pretty thin. I slumped when I remembered the loss of both my stress ball and my sweatshirt. I liked my sweatshirt, so it was no surprise that I was disappointed when they had stolen it from me to tie me up. That was long gone for sure now. The stress ball was probably gone now too after being left in the bathroom of the mall. I couldn't think of any reason why the janitor might keep it around upon finding it.
I felt fresh tears start to sting at my eyes and sniffled as I pulled my legs up to my chest. Shuffling back, I tried to get comfortable in the smaller-than-twin sized bed until my back hit the wall.
"Stupid Hydra stealing my sweater." I murmured, pouting to myself.
There was a small knock at the door that had me jumping slightly, having expected the clicking latch of a metal door. I tried to wipe away the tears, remembering where I was, but just winced when my hand touched the worse side of my face. It stung when I tried to touch it, so I just didn't and hoped that whoever was at the door might go away.
When the knock came again, I rolled my eyes as best I could. Honestly, it's been an hour. Can't I have a little privacy before they start bombarding me with the 'did you give up our secrets' routine?
"Yeah, come in." I said finally, trying - and failing - to wipe away the tears without bothering the bruises on my face. But it hurt no matter how I tried to do it, so I gave up. If they wanted to see me that badly, they'd have to suck it up.
The door slid open slowly and my heart lurched upon seeing who it was. Happy looked very guilty but mostly unharmed. That was a relief. I don't know what I'd do if Happy had gotten hurt because of my interference in this world. I stood up off the bed and almost padded over to him to make sure he really wasn't damaged before stopping short and giving him a once over from a distance.
"Did they hurt you too?" I asked, genuinely wanting to know.
I hadn't even thought about Happy while I was with Hydra.
Did he just get back too? I should have worried about him more... I stopped my train of thoughts before it derailed itself. He didn't look that bad after all. He looked pretty...okay.
"No. No, I'm fine." He replied quickly, still visibly cringing from the doorway. "I just came to say I'm sorry."
I tilted my head, pushing aside the weird look and blinked at him. "Why?"
"I was supposed to protect you, and instead I got you kidnapped." He paused and looked at me skeptically. "Why are you not more angry about this?"
I sat back down on the bed while he stood uncomfortably in the door. "Am I supposed to be mad?"
He shrugged. "Everyone else was."
"Oh no. They were mean to you weren't they?" I asked, sitting on my hands and looking past him out the door as if I could see them.
What a bunch of losers. I'll kick their ass if they were mean to Happy. That man deserves to be protected at all costs.
"I kind of deserve it." He muttered before letting out a strained laugh. "It's alright, I just thought I'd apologize before I go."
"Go?" I repeated, looking at him funny before it dawned on me. "No wait! You can't go!"
"I don't really have a choice, kid." He pulled Stress Ball out of his pocket and tossed it to me. "Here, I found this. Tony seems to think you're pretty attached to it."
I stared at the ball in my hands for a moment after he left before summoning the strength to do something. Holding Stress Ball close, I stood again, much to the protest of my burnt stomach and sternum. I could already feel the weight of my various battered body parts starting to take a toll.
Ha, as if that would stop me. I thought, taking careful steps towards the door and sliding it open. I peered outside, leaning on the door and breathing carefully. My legs weren't really that bad because Hydra wasn't so concerned about me running away. That meant that as long as I walked somewhat staggardly, I could successfully make it places without my knees giving out. That said, I made a turn and started retracing my steps down the hall, a headache already starting to grow.
A few weird and uncomfortable looks were passed my way as I worked to remember the maze of hallways.
Right turn here...Tony went this way and then...was it left or right? Ah, fuck it, that looks about right. I narrowed my eyes at the room at the end of the hall before deciding to check it. It wasn't like anyone had stopped me yet.
Though, this whole breathing thing is harder than I remember. This had better be the right place.
The door slid open with little resistance and I stepped in, being exactly where I wanted to be. Both Steve and Tony looked up at me when I entered and cringed. I almost opened my mouth to speak when I spotted the chair nearby Tony. My lungs weren't doing so great so I sat down first, keeping my eyes trained on him.
"Why's Happy leaving?" I asked, rolling my knuckles under the burn on my sternum as if it'd help with the chest pain.
Tony looked me up and down, either disgusted or scared. It was hard to tell. "You really shouldn't be up and about. Did no one...stop you on your way here?"
"Stop avoiding the question." I grimaced at the harsh tone and sucked in a short breath.
"Okayyy," He looked up at Steve who just shrugged and then back at me. "He got you kidnapped. You remember that, right?"
"Okay, uh...A - He did not get me kidnapped. Hydra did that 'cause they're a bunch of cocksucking jerks." Steve looked uneasy again at my choice of words, but I ignored it. Taking in more sharp breaths, I continued. "Two - Don't talk to me like I'm an amnesiac. My memory is doing just fine. I might not like it, but it is."
He gave me a new kind of concerned look. I coughed to help the air get into my lungs since my breaths had become shorter. "And D - You have to make Happy come back. I'd miss him too much and start harassing you instead."
My chest really was aching now, but getting Happy back was worth the short-lived pain. I could do it. I'd just have to take a nap after.
"Okay, Okay. I'll get him back." He rolled his eyes at me. "Don't kill yourself over it, kid. You look like hell."
I breathed a sigh of relief between all my ragged breaths. I stood up to leave but Tony's hand shot out to stop me and I sat down again.
"You are not leaving this table until you breathe like a normal human." He directed me with a pointed finger like I was a dog. "Stay."
I huffed to myself in a quiet protest, but ultimately didn't fight it.
He tapped the table to bring back up his work. "Oh and by the way, I just thought that the room as a whole should address that you went from A, to 2, and then right to D."
"It's part of my charm." I smiled dryly, only stopping to cringe when I felt the pair of eyes on the back of my head.
Tony continued flipping through the holographic book Banner had sent him but tuned in when Lincoln spoke again. This time it was directed at Rogers.
"Dude, you have got," She took in a deep breath. "...to stop doing that."
Rogers barely blinked. "Stop doing what?"
"You keep sitting there making bug-eyes at me behind my back. It's weird and kinda scary."
"I'm not doing anything," Steve deadpanned.
Tony stifled a grin at the familiar conversation.
"Uh, yeah, you are. And you haven't spoken to me since New York. Why is that? Do you not like me?" Her breathing was quickening and getting more ragged. "Did I do something wrong?"
Tony's grin faded as the questions flew at the soldier. She did have a point. Of course, he already knew where Steve stood when it came to the options, but he wasn't about to share that with the kid. Tony looked up at the girl who was clutching her shirt again with one hand and the other was squeezing the life out of her stress ball. She wasn't at the point where she was hyperventilating, but it was getting dangerously close. He looked around him before spotting an eraser and tossing it at her.
"Hey! Ow," She rubbed her forehead and glared at Tony who pointed to the hand clutched on her chest.
"Now you stop doing that." He turned his gaze back to the book, but still listened in as her breathing came close to normal again.
"I don't hate you."
"Then why do you look at me like that? Like I'm some horrible mistake of the universe?" She shot back, trying to keep her breathing regulated while still being mad at Rogers. Needless to say, she wasn't doing very well.
Rogers shook his head. "It doesn't matter. You don't have to know everything."
Tony looked up finally and saw a scowl cross her face. She got up again and Tony didn't stop her this time as she walked away. He figured it was safer not putting his hand in the mouth of an angry mini-god. He looked up at Cap for an explanation to his madness while using every ounce of his mental strength not to call him a child.
Tony decided to break the silence before it came awkward. "So, Mr. America, what's going on there?"
"I don't know how to talk to her." Steve looked out the door she left.
Tony pretended to think before pointing at the Super Soldier. "How about you try like she's an actual person."
"I've really only been here for so long Stark. I was okay with the other things, but she's dangerous." He tried, looking at Tony seriously. "She's an actual alien."
Tony furrowed his brow and looked between Rogers and the direction that Lincoln left in. "Really? This again? She's a human being, Rogers. And why do you sound like you're scared of her? I thought that was literally impossible for the all-righteous American hero."
Cap crossed his arms. "She swears a lot."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes. Teenagers that have gone through trauma use it as a coping mechanism."
"Really?"
"No clue. Ask Banner. There's trauma there though, and it's pretty fucked up, so talk to her like a person and maybe try not to make that face every time she swears." Tony stood and clasped his shoulder. "My dad was a dick but I'm still pissed about my mom."
"It wasn't him Stark." The soldier's voice called as Tony started down the hallway.
"If the glove fits!"
Oh yeah, he is so not getting that reference.
I was very relieved when I made it back to my cubicle room and laid carefully down on the bed. If I was lucky, I wouldn't get any more interruptions while I tried to sleep. Saving more than one career and friendship in a day sounded like a little much. It was worth it though because I discovered that Steve and Tony were apparently able to get along. I felt my mind wandering back to the room I was in 24 hours ago too.
I never did find out how long I was there.
Of course, hoping for sleep uninterrupted was a lot to ask for in this world. The second I closed my eyes, the image of a chilling smile forced itself into my memory. I cringed and sat up again feeling very sick. I could feel him again. The hits, the touch, the electricity all covered my body from head to toe. I was drowning in it. He touched my clothes, and my clothes touched the bed. That meant he was everywhere still, even though he wasn't even here. With a nauseous feeling of panic starting to well up in my gut, I stepped away from the bed, ignoring the protests that my chest threw at me.
I had to get rid of this feeling. Sliding open the door to the bathroom, I stepped in and spotted the shower. I lost little time, closing the door behind me and starting to peel off my clothes, much to the annoyance of my limbs and medium-rare skin.
I turned on the water and ignored the array of bruises and two deep burns that were now visible across my body, finally able to relax and catch my breath after stepping in and feeling the gut wrenching hits from him wash down the drain with any grime from the bunker too. It felt nice to finally have a shower after...however long I was stuck there. The burns stung from the water, but I fought through it to soothe the ache in my muscles and clean off all the dirt from that disgusting room.
After cleaning myself with a small bottle of 4-in-1 soap, I switched the water to cold and forced myself to stand in it for a good 10 seconds before stepping out. I was hoping it would help with the swelling, which I guess it did, because I could see better out of my left eye afterwards.
After getting out, I stopped in front of the mirror and looked at myself, immediately wishing that I hadn't. Jeez, was I just walking around like this? I look like Dean after he got his ass kicked by Alistair.
Gently, I wrapped myself in a towel and used the trash bin to shove aside the clothes that I tossed around in a panic. Once they were all against the opposite wall I put the bin down and backed out of the bathroom away from the clothes. There was no way in hell I was going to risk getting Winnie near me again.
I closed the door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief. Pulling open the drawers of the stand beside the bed, I found a SHIELD uniform and PT gear. I settled with the T-Shirt and basketball shorts and pulled them on before using the towel to grab the top blanket off the bed. Careful not to let it touch me I placed the blanket and pillow in the bathroom with the tainted clothing. I left the towel with them too and started trying to find a comfortable position on the bed where I wasn't on a bruise. Finally, I managed to fall asleep.
I woke up a few hours later, surprisingly not due to some slap or loud noise, but on my own. Like a regular person. It was quite refreshing being able to not only sleep in a bed without dreaming, but also wake up again without the harsh hand-to-face contact or loud noises like I'd grown used to during my extended stay with Hydra. I just laid there for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling before mustering the strength to roll over. There was a small wooden bed stand to the right of the bed I was in, with a bottle of water and the same kind of granola bar Clint offered me on my first day sitting innocently in my direct sight.
I was hungry enough to eat the granola bar but stopped when I saw the broken seal of the water bottle. I wasn't the paranoid type, but after my last encounter with drugs I wasn't eager to possibly repeat the experience. Dumping it out in the sink, I rinsed and refilled it. I eyed the pile of clothes and blanket in the corner while I did it too. After refilling the water bottle, I used the toilet and opened the door to my bedroom in hope of getting some kind of indication on what time or day it was. Before I could make any move to leave though, I was stopped.
A medium sized box sat outside the door, blocking my path. I stooped down, cringing at the strain it put on my stomach and pulled it in before closing the door behind it. It had a small note on the top that just read 'Happy'. I smiled and knelt to open the box. It held all the clothing that I had previously bought with him at the mall. You know, before the kidnapping.
"Well, hello." I murmured, already starting to shove through it.
I've never been more proud of myself. I was smart enough to get bras and a second pair of grey sweatpants, and I quickly changed out of the gym clothes and into the better and much more comfortable articles of clothing. It took a minute longer than usual since I was trying to do it in the least painful way possible. When I was done changing, I returned to the box and shifted through the familiar clothing, only stopping when I reached something I didn't remember buying at the bottom of the box.
Furrowing my brow at the piece, I took out the neatly folded sweatshirt that held an outline of a stegosaurus where my old one had a pterodactyl. I pulled it on, relishing the soft interior before repacking the box and putting it off to the side. I also refolded and put away the PT gear. The lucky thing about my situation was that even though it may take me longer to stand up and sit down, I can still walk fine as long as I didn't move my torso too aggressively. One question was still plaguing my mind after I had finished sorting through clothing though.
How long have I been missing? And why can't I remember?