It wasn't agreed on or voiced by our small party of three, yet Betty seems to realise that going back to Stan's isn't an option now that she and Bruce have reunited. Ten minutes after we find Bruce walking alone on the bridge, she guides her car to a gentle stop outside her house. It's two storeyed, with a front porch and tall windows, white with blue trimming and just from looking at the cosy and welcoming exterior, I know that it suits Betty perfectly.

For the entirety of the car ride to her place, I sit silently in the back and listen to Bruce as he tries his best to explain to Betty why it is that he went on the run without going into too much detail. Sure; fleeing the States and leaving everything behind because he has something dangerous that the government wants to get their hands on is believable. Hell, even Betty buys it, even if she does sense that perhaps there is more to his story than Bruce is letting on.

But Bruce being able to turn into giant, green rage monster every time he gets angry? I found it hard to believe at first, and I can control the elements for God's sake. Betty's head would likely explode at the truth which would only freak her out, so Bruce keeps a few details to himself, sparing his ex any more confusion for the night.

What he does tell her though, is that her father is part of the reason why he left in the first place, although Betty isn't surprised by this. Apparently this is something that she has known from the beginning, having confronted her father about it when she had first woken up in the hospital after the accident. The two of them haven't really been on speaking terms ever since, and Betty had made it perfectly clear that she blamed her father for Bruce's disappearance; something that she can never truly forgive him for.

Now, the three of us exit the car – Bruce and I with our bags in tow – and make a mad dash to the front porch, teeth chattering and bodies shivering as Betty unlocks the door, hurrying inside and urging us to quickly follow behind her.

The house is just as grand on the inside as it was on the out, and I can't help but think that it is far too large for just a single person to live in. Betty had said to us during the ride over that there was enough spare rooms for Bruce and I to each have our own for the night, and after the less than ideal conditions that Bruce and I have had to endure over the past few weeks, it sounds like heaven.

Betty quickly directs the two of us to the couch in the living room, before declaring that she would get some dry blankets for us. As she leaves, I can't help but notice the way that Bruce violently shivers beside me, clearly chilled to the bone. He had been walking out in the freezing cold and rain for at least half an hour before we have found her. Eyeing the fireplace in the corner of the room with a few logs stacked within it just waiting to be burned, I raise and hand and click my fingers. Fire engulfs them within seconds and I twist them until a small ball hovers above my palm. With a flick of my hand, it soars forward through the air and hits the logs gently, igniting them in an instant.

Bruce, still shivering and now wide-eyed at what I had just done, nods his head. "T-Thanks."

"No problem."

It is at this time that Betty returns to the room. In her hands there is a pile of blankets and on top of those is a small box of matches. Her dark eyes immediately fall to the crackling flames and small noise of surprise falls from her lips.

"I was… I was going to light the fire for you," she weakly whispers.

Sending her a wry smile, I raise the same hand that I had created fire in only moments prior and once more allow fire to dance between my fingers. The orange flames dance in the reflection of Betty's eyes, and I simply reply, "Got it covered," before letting the fire die once more.

Stunned, Betty stares at me, the look of utter surprise and perplexity on her face almost comical. She jerks forward and hands Bruce and I a blanket each, her eyes never trailing from the hand that I had used to show her my abilities. Silently, she sinks down onto the cream-coloured couch beside Bruce, who raises a hand to comfortingly grasp her shoulder.

"How?!" She breathes.

The smile slips from my face at this. "I can control the elements. I was experimented on and this is the result."

She glances at Bruce over the corner of her eye, who only gives her a small nod of confirmation.

"Did a company do this to you?"

"Yes. But I don't know who they are."

"How did they do it? I mean, people throughout generations have theorised that humans of high intellect could do such things, but there's never been any proof until now." An excited spreads across her face, the curious scientist in forgetting about the initial shock and realising on the potential instead. "Did – was there drugs that you took? Or some other methods they used –?"

It is best not to move, Subject 207. It won't do you any good.

Aching, throbbing, stinging, pain –

"Please stop –"

My name is Lydia Hathaway.

Screams echoing off the walls –

"Again."

"Betty," Bruce quietly warns.

It's his voice that pulls me from the memories that had swam to the surface of mind, ugly and unwanted as they forced me to endure flashes from my painful past. Fingers digging harshly into the palms of my hands – when had I started to clench them? – I quickly release them, flexing them out and forcing myself to remind myself that I am. I am safe, and I am no longer there.

At the warning underlying his words, the excitement quickly dies from Betty's face as she looks at me fully. My obvious distress must show on my face, as her shoulders sag and she sends me an apologetic frown. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be nosy."

"It's OK," is my feeble response. It is far from OK, but it is not her fault. She hadn't known. "I just don't like talking about it that much."

Pity takes a hold of her face as a silence threatens to descend on us at my words, though it's prevented as Bruce leans forward and says, "Betty, we came back to Willowdale for a reason. The data from the Gamma experiment that we did – do you still have it? Or does someone else?"

Rather than answering, Betty pulls herself to her feet and walks across the room to a bookshop filled to the brim with books, photos, and other belongings. One of these belongings is a small and old silver jewellery box with delicate flowers engraved on the sides, and I watch curiously as Betty plucks it from where it sits on the shelf before turning and bringing it back over towards Bruce and I. She offers it to me, and I take it from her fingers, the box cool against my fingers. Gingerly, I lift the lid up and am greeted with the sight of a small, white USB stick which I am quick to pry from the box.

"It's the data," Betty explains as I hand it to an eager Bruce, who stares down at it as it weighs lightly in his own palms.

"I got in there and got it before they went in and carted it all away. A small part of me hoped it might have different results and tell us something about what we were intending to do someday."

Keeping his eyes fixed on the USB stick, Bruce asks, "Do you mind if we borrow it for a few days? We need it for what we're doing. Once we're done, we can send it back in the mail or come and give it back to you once we're finished –"

"Bruce, it's fine. The data us yours just as it is mine. You can have it for as long as you want."

"Does your father know that you have it?"

"No. At least, I don't think so."

"You have to be sure," I inform her gently, the face of her determined father flashing behind my eyes. Though it is Bruce that he is after for the time being, I can't help but feel that if Ross were to discover the existence of the USB, then he would stop at nothing to get his hands on it.

"If he finds out that you have it, then he could cause a lot of damage."

"What do you mean by that?" Betty asks. When Bruce and I remain silent and avert our eyes to look anywhere but at her, her voice takes a sharp turn as she exclaims, "I just don't' understand why we can't go in there together and explain everything to him –"

"I can't," Bruce interrupts. "I overheard him telling soldiers that he wants to dissect it from me and use the – whatever the experiment did to me as a weapon."

"And if he does that, then a lot of innocent people are likely to get hurt," I further add. "Betty, you have to make sure that your father never gets his hands on this research. Bruce told you in the car that what happened to him has caused side effects and trust me when I say that they can be dangerous."

A silence descends on us as she purses her lips, no doubt considering our warnings and the severity of the situation that we are describing to her. What we have given her isn't much to go with. Part of me wouldn't be surprised if she demands further answers and full explanation about what exactly the side effects are. But to my surprise, it never comes. Instead, she eventually give a firm nod of her head. "OK. I haven't told anyone but the two of you that I have it, and I promise that it won't go any further."

I let out a breath that I didn't even realise I was holding, and even Bruce exhales with relief, sagging back against the couch cushions. "Thank you," he murmurs, running a hand down his tired face.

"Of course," Betty warmly assures. "Now, you both look like you're in need of a good night's sleep –"

"Here, here," I mumble.

"– so Bruce, why don't you show Lydia where one of the spare room upstairs is? I'll fetch you some dry clothes and I can make you a warm drink as well if you like," she offers kindly, yet firmly, leaving no room for argument. It is as if she is worried that if she doesn't get us upstairs, then we won't stay. And something tells me that after having just seen Bruce for the first time in years, she's not willing to let him go anytime soon.

It's why I promptly stand up as quickly as I can before Bruce has enough time to even protest. Which, knowing him, he probably would try. Stretching my arms over the top of my head and groaning with delight as my back and shoulders pop, I can't help but feel grateful for Betty's kindness. It has been such a long and harrowing couple of weeks, and I was looking forward to the possibility of being able to fall into a deep slumber without a care in the world. I very much doubt that Ross and his soldiers would come barging in during the middle of the night, as I don't think that he would believe that Bruce would be here. Not after all of his previous attempts at contacting Betty had been met with failure, as well as Ross having already discovered him in the past few weeks.

We were safe. For the time being, we could relax.

"Thank you so much," I say, before nudging Bruce with my foot. He jumps at the gesture but quickly pulls himself upright, offering Betty a sheepish yet tired smile as he moves past her, leading the way to the stairs.

I follow close behind him while Betty moves into the kitchen likely to put the kettle on, and it isn't until we are well and truly halfway up the stairs and she is out of earshot that I declare to Bruce, "I like her."

"Everyone likes Betty. It's – it's hard not to."

"She has a motherly nature, which I'm thinking she must get from her mother, seeing as her father is a royal pain in the ass."

"Truthfully, I couldn't tell you. Betty's mother died before I even met her."

"Oh," I falter, a pang of sympathy for Betty sitting heavily in my chest. "How did she die?"

"Cancer. Betty was twelve."

I frown. Poor Betty. It's bad enough to have to lose a parent at such a young age. But to lose a parent only to be left with one that she didn't necessarily get along with? That would be hard. You couldn't help but feel a sense of isolation, especially if said parent was the only family that you had left.

As if sensing my thoughts, Bruce quietly points out as we move down the corridor of the second floor, "She did have her father. Despite everything that has happened over the years, Betty and her father do love each other very much. He truly does care for her."

I only offer a hum in response, the memory of the video file of the lab accident that I had watched before leaving for Bruce flashing behind my eyes. I remember the way that Ross had thrown himself over Betty's body when Bruce had first turned into the Other Guy. The sheer panic and raw terror that had been written plainly on the General's face as he had risked his life to protect his only daughter is the most human that I have seen him, so it is very easy for me to believe what it is that Bruce is saying about Ross.

He's still a massive prick though.

Eventually, we reach the end of the hall and Bruce pushes open a door to reveal the spare bedroom on the other side. It's a small room with a double bed in the middle with grey and white sheets. Beside it is a small bedside table with a lamp and a little clock placed on top, the latter informing me that it is almost midnight. There's a window on the other side of the room though the blue curtains are drawn closed, hiding the room away from the rest of the outside world. There's a small set of drawers in the corner of the room which Betty's guests likely put their clothes in whenever they stay over.

I can't help but smile. Small. Cosy. Clean and fresh. After sleeping in run-down motel rooms for the past few weeks, this right here is heaven.

Stepping into the room, I waste no time in hauling my duffel on the bed before turning back towards Bruce who still stands in the doorway. "Thanks Bruce. Go and get some sleep, OK? It's been a long day, and if we're gonna leave again tomorrow –"

"Lydia."

I freeze at the tone he uses to say my name, and I watch as he shifts nervously from one foot to the other, causing me to narrow my eyes. Something is clearly on his mind, and it must be significant enough if he is nervous about whatever it is that he's about to say. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out though.

"You don't want me to come with you, do you?"

Bruce cringes. "I know that your boss asked you to help – and trust me, you've been a tremendous help these last few weeks – but I don't know what's going to happen or how much longer it's going to take, how dangerous it's going to get –"

"I can handle it, Bruce."

"I can't ask you to come with me."

"What if I said that I want to?"

Bruce lowers his head. "I…"

I cross my arms over my chest. "I know that you think that I'm only helping you because I've been ordered to, but it's more than that," I reveal quietly, trying to level myself with his gaze. "I know what it is like to not be in control of your own body. This…"

I trail off, lifting a hand and allowing a small, blazing flame to flicker between my fingers. "This didn't come easy, and it has taken me a long time to try and get a hold on it. Some days, I don't feel in control either. So, I know that fear. I know, to some extent, what it is that you go through every time you change, and every time you come back worrying about the damage you've done. I've done some damage myself."

"It wasn't your fault Lyd."

My eyes squeeze shut on their own accord, Clint's voice and the memory associated with it coming to the forefront of my mind. A plant, once lovely and lively, shrivelled up and grey. Electricity cracking. A small, unsure voice calling for me. A high-pitched scream –

"The point is," I say, eyes snapping open and the memory vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "I want to help you because I have been where you have been before. And if there's a chance that we can find a way for you to get control of your life again, then I want to be there to help you take it."

Because I never got a say. Because there is nothing that I can do to undo what the scientists in the facility did to me. There is no erasing this part of me. But for Bruce, there could be.

"We are so, so close to getting a cure, Bruce, and I want it to work for you. I know that you've been alone for a long time now, but this is something that you can let me help you with. So, if you think that you're taking off by yourself in the morning, then you have another thing coming. We're gonna find this cure, and we're going to do so together. Capeesh?"

Bruce blinks once, twice, and finally a third time once I have finished my rant, and I stand there firmly but silently, allowing him to take in everything that I had just said. Whether it be the strength in which I speak or the determination that shows on my face, Bruce quickly realises that every word I had spoken is the truth, and he finally gives a small and hesitant nod of his head.

"Alright. Capeesh. We leave tomorrow together. We find the cure together."

I grin. "Now we're talking. But for now, let's just shower and get some sleep. We can discuss our next move in the morning, OK?"

He offers me a tired yet genuine smile, a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Hopefully my words have made him realise that for the first time in a long time, he's not alone. As I said to him just then, I am more than determined to stick with him to the end. I will see that he gets this cure no matter what it takes.

"OK. Goodnight Lydia," he quietly bids, before he then reaches down and pulls the bedroom door shut between us.

Smiling, I turn and collect a pair of pyjamas from my backpack and quickly change into them, shoving my clothes unceremoniously when my pyjamas had once been. I go to make a move to grab my toothbrush and hairbrush when there is a faint knock on the door. It's halfway open by the time I turn around, and I am greeted with the sight of Betty standing in the doorway, a steaming mug of something likely warm and delicious in her hands.

"Hi," she kindly greets. "I thought that I would bring you some hot chocolate before you turn in."

With my mouth practically beginning to water, I quickly nod my head and eagerly dart forward to retrieve it from her hands. I knew I liked her. Graciously accepting the mug with a small 'thank you' falling from my lips, I bring it to my lips, sipping at the creamy, smooth liquid within it. My insides immediately warm, and I make a small noise of delight as the tastebuds on my tongue explode. Cheap motel drinks could never compare to this.

"Oh my god, this is heaven."

"I take it that someone likes hot chocolate then?"

"Uh, it's only one of the best drinks to have ever been created."

Betty chuckles as I take another sip. "I'm glad you like it. I also wanted to see if you have any clothes that you needed to be washed? I don't know much about being on the run, but I gather that it can be hard to find a decent washing machine and dryer while doing so."

"You have no idea. Thank you. Not just for offering, but for also giving us the data and allowing us to stay as well."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. I'm just glad that you're safe," she says, reaching up to fiddle with the golden necklace that hangs from around her neck. I am standing too far away from her to be able to see the fine details of the jewellery, though it is big enough for me to see the shape of a small, golden heart hanging from the chain.

"That's a pretty necklace. Did… uh, did Samson give it to you?"

She visibly stiffens at the name, her face flushing crimson as her mouth twists into an awkward line. "Yes," she confirms in a voice barely above a whisper, as if she only wants me to hear the answer and not a certain someone who is in the next room over and might overhear what it is that we are discussing.

"It's pretty," I acknowledge, ensuring that I speak at a volume that matches hers to help ease the nerves that she is clearly experiencing. "Have you guys been together long?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she silently moves deeper into the room and shuts the door with a gentle click behind her. Once it's closed, she replies in a slightly louder tone, "Almost a year now. But we're taking things slow. I mean, he's the first man that I've been with since…" she trails off, unable to finish the sentence. Not that it matters though. What she was about to say is blindingly obvious.

"Since Bruce," I finish for her.

Her eyes glisten. "Yes. Since Bruce."

"Who you still have feelings for." When her eyes widen at the blunt statement, I offer her a shrug. "Sorry. It's just, you said in the car that you never go over him, so I just sort of figure that there is definitely something still there."

She doesn't immediately reply to this, but instead stands in silence and diverts her gaze to the floorboards, as if she will find an answer there. Watching her, I allow her to the time to ponder on my words as I know that there is no easy response to this. Technically, her relationship with Bruce had ended because he had unexpectedly gone on the run. No harsh words or actions involved; their relationship had a tragic ending simply because fate willed it so. Had it been the soldier that Ross had wanted strapped to the chair in the lab that day that everything had gone wrong, then there is a strong possibility that Bruce and Betty would still be together.

Judging from the snippets that Bruce had told me over the past few weeks, their love story hadn't simply been just a fling either; it had been real. Something that could have led to the two of them living the rest of their lives together. Considering that Bruce has loved Betty after all this time, I can't help but wonder if there is any lingering feelings on Betty's behalf as well.

"I don't know," she admits in a whisper. "I loved him. I truly did. There was a time where I thought that the two of us were going to build a life together. But then he left and Samson showed up and – and he's wonderful. I understand that Bruce had to leave, I really do, but –"

Noticing the panic that has begun to seep into her voice, I immediately raise a hand. "Hey, it's OK. I'm not judging. I'm not trying to make you choose between the two of them either. I was just curious is all."

A stray tear leaks from her startling blue eyes, and she lets out a watery chuckle as she reaches up to quickly wipe it away. "I'm sorry," she says, voice thick with emotion. "I didn't mean to start crying."

"Don't apologise. It's a shitty situation that you're in, so you have every right to be upset. Again, I'm not asking you to choose between them. Whatever you decide to do in the end if your choice, and your choice alone."

She sniffs and nods, once more reaching to wipe at her eyes to prevent anymore tears from spilling. "What about you? Is there anyone special waiting for you back home?"

I snort in amusement and only take another sip of my drink. "Ha. That's funny."

"No one at all?"

"Not at the moment. I've had boyfriends before. My recent one was a fellow colleague of mine and it was the longest relationship I've been in, but…" I trail off with a shrug of my shoulders. "Sometimes things just don't work out."

"And you haven't met anyone since?"

"I've been kind of busy of late. Helping Bruce and dealing with other things."

Like tracking down the organisation that tore me apart day in and day out for their own sick and twisted agendas. Though with every day that passes, it seems more and more unlikely that I will never be able to catch up with them and make them pay for what they have done.

"So, go out. Find someone new. Go dancing – it's a great way to meet new people."

"Maybe so. But, I think that I'd rather take the right partner dancing than someone who may not have any significance in my life further down the track."

"So, you just have to find your right partner. The one that you're waiting for.

"Exactly."

After waking up to find croissants, coffee and orange juice awaiting Bruce and I in the kitchen, Bruce and I solemnly packed up our belongings before leaving for the train station, a stubborn and persistent Betty informing us that she would be tagging along to see us off.

The walk so far has been an uneventful one. I trail behind the two scientists to allow both Betty and Bruce some more time together, trying not to overhear the quiet murmurs shared between the two of them. For all we know, this is the last time that they may ever see one another. But if Bruce's associate could procure him a cure, then maybe there is a chance that the two of them would have more moments like this to share with one another in the future.

After ten minutes of walking, I am surprised to see that we are back at Culver university. When I question Betty about this, however, she merely shrugs her shoulders and informs me that it is on the way to the station.

I nod, reaching up to adjust the cap on my head. But while I am at ease, it seems that Bruce isn't thrilled about being back at Culver once more. If anything, he seems more on edge and nervous.

Betty also picks up on this, as she guides him to a gentle stop on the green lawn of the university grounds. "Is everything OK?"

After a brief scan of the general area, Bruce turns back to face her and does his best to shoot her an assuring smile that doesn't quite meet his eyes. "I think so."

She nods, tugging at her bottom lip thoughtfully as he eyes trail down to look at Bruce's waist. Before Bruce can ask her what's wrong, she reaches and untucks Bruce's blue shirt from his grey pants. Bruce makes a startled noise and his face flushes crimson as her fingers brush over his skin, though he is quick to duck his head so that Betty can't see it.

She, however, doesn't seem faze by their sudden proximity. "It's better this way," she explains, before reaching up to remove his cap from his head. I choke back a snort at the flustered expression written plainly on Bruce's face as he glances back up, and I turn my head away, feeling inclined to give them a private moment. My eyes quickly land on a row of hedges on the other side of the lawn as Bruce mutters something nervously to Betty –

There.

I narrow my eyes as I see something flash behind the edges, which looks an awful lot like something ducking down behind the green bushes before I have time to register their movement. I keep my eyes trained on the greenery, waiting patiently to ascertain whether the movement had been real or simply my imagination. But to my absolute dismay, I spot a man dressed in military gear make a mad dash from the hedges to the pillars of the building behind him, a deadly gun held in his hands.

A soldier.

A soldier who happens to be here at Culver at the same time that Bruce is?

They're here. Which means that Ross wouldn't be far behind.

We've got to leave. Now.

"Bruce," I say, turning my attention back to both him and Betty, the two of them staring at me in confusion as they take note of the stricken look on my face.

"We have to leave. Right now. They're here – we have to go right now!"

While Betty's look of confusion only deepens, Bruce blanches at my words, knowing perfectly well who it is that I am talking about. Swallowing thickly, he turns and grabs Betty by the shoulders. "Betty, listen to me. You have to get as far away from me as possible."

"What? Bruce –?"

"Don't argue with me, just go. Lydia, you stay with her and protect her, no matter what."

Now it's my turn to protest. "Just wait –"

"If I change, I need you to protect her," he affirms.

I don't like the idea leaving Bruce to fend off the soldiers seconds away from attacking. Not only because I don't want them to hurt Bruce, but because I don't want them to force him to change. After seeing the damage that the confrontation between Bruce and the soldiers back in Rocinha had causes, I know that any confrontation here would escalate, and this time, more civilian lives are at stake. The campus grounds are crawling with students and professors alike that are at risk of getting caught in the crossfire.

Including Betty beside me. The woman that Bruce is pleading with me to protect. I couldn't fail him, not with the look of desperation on his face as he begs me to keep her safe from him.

Huffing in frustration, I curly nod my head and watch as he takes off running without saying another word. Betty eventually whirls back around to face me, mouth parted and questions ready on her tongue, but there's a heavy crash the echoes throughout the air before she gets he chance.

Instinctively, I reach for Betty and yank her down, watching as three army trucks that have driven through two cars which have been destroyed. The trucks drive straight past us and move off in the same direction that Bruce had taken off in, while a new group of soldiers appear from the building that I had seen the first one hide behind.

"No!" Betty exclaims, before she tears herself from my grasp and takes off running after Bruce and the soldiers.

"Betty, stop!" I scream, instincts kicking in and causing me to immediately begin running after her.

As I follow her, more soldiers continue to appear out of nowhere, with some yelling orders to one another, each of them carrying guns and all sorts of other weapons in their hands. They haven't noticed me yet, thought I glance at them and immediately focus on one in particular. One who is running slightly ahead of the group, wearing a familiar smirk on his face. I groan as I realise that it's the God damn blond soldier from Rocinha. It appears he is just as enthusiastic about joining the manhunt for Bruce back here in the Stated as he was in Brazil.

I rush past professors and students strewn across the lawn, every one of them wearing looks of astonishment as they watch the armed troops and trucks. As I pass them, I slow to warn them, "You people need to get out of here, now!"

But my pleas fall on deaf ears, as they continue to yell among themselves and ignore me altogether. Regrettably, I run past them, hoping that they would have enough sense to leave if – or when the fighting starts.

I rush past them, trees, and more buildings, trailing behind the soldiers and the vehicles that head towards the library. With Bruce nowhere in sight, I reason that he must be somewhere in the building or has managed to evade the soldiers a little longer. When Betty, a few yards ahead realises that she can't see Bruce either, she finally comes to a halt which allows me to catch up to her.

"Betty!" I yell, coming to a skidding halt beside her, angrily grabbing her shoulders to turn her towards me. "What the hell were you thinking?! Bruce told you to run for a reason!"

"He needs our help, Lydia! I'm not going to let them take him!"

"I get that you want to help him but look around!" I scream, waving my arms towards the soldiers and the trucks now a fair way ahead of us, closing in on the library. Bruce must definitely be in there then.

"This is dangerous, and while I hate to admit it, Bruce is dangerous!"

"How?!"

"Trust me when I say there's a strong chance that you're going to get an answer to your question sometime soon. But the point it, Bruce has asked me to protect you, so that's what I'm going to do. But we need to get somewhere safe when the fighting starts –"

"Fighting?" She breathes. Shock written plainly across her delicate features, she opens her mouth to say something else when something over my shoulder catches her eye. Turning, I am greeted with the sight of a large, military command vehicle that is slowly moving to join all the others that have begun to surround the library.

"I know that vehicle," she murmurs, before – to my absolute frustration – she begins to run full speed towards it, leaving me gaping after her.

"Betty!" I scream, tearing off after her as she reaches the vehicle with her arms raised in the air, causing the vehicle to come to a screeching halt mere feet away from her.

"I know that you're in there!" She yells loudly, causing me to pause and shoot her a confused look. Who the hell does she know that's in there?

When there's no response, a desperate plea falls from her lips. "General, please!"

Realisation hits me like a slap in the face as I realise who it is sitting in the vehicle and ignoring his only daughter's desperate pleas.

"DAD!" She screams so loudly and unexpectedly, it causes me to jump a mile in the air. But her final scream seems to work, as the sound of a door opening on the other side of the vehicle echoes throughout the air. Not even several seconds later, a very pissed Thaddeus Ross appears from around the vehicle, before marching directly towards Betty and I.

"Dad, please don't do this –"

"You can't see this clearly enough," Ross snaps, jerking a finger towards the library. "That man is a criminal!"

"Because you made him one," I reply coolly.

His head snaps towards me at my words, and he looks at me with recognition and annoyance. "You."

"Me. Lydia Hathaway. I would say that I'm pleased to meet you, asshat, but I'm really not."

"I know who you are," he snaps. "You've caused me and my men enough trouble over these past few weeks. It's only because you're a S.H.I.E.L.D agent that you're not behind bars yourself?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D?" Betty asks, confused.

But I ignore her altogether, only glaring at the furious general before me. "That's good that you know who I am, because you then know what kind of power I have at S.H.I.E.L.D. I swear to God, if you hurt or kill Bruce, I will do everything within my power at S.H.I.E.L.D to expose you for who you really are, and what you've done."

His face turns red from anger, as he takes a small step forward, knocking aside Betty's outstretched hand as she tries to stop him. "Are you threatening me, agent?" he asks in a low, dangerous tone, clearly trying to intimidate me.

"I'm making a promise," I hiss. "A promise you better hope I don't have to keep."

He opens his mouth to snap something in a reply, when a soldier from a group that happens to be walking besides us suddenly stops to point to the overpass in the library. "There he is!"

Ross and I immediately lose interest in one another, and we simultaneously swivel on the spot to look where he is pointing. We were a little far away, but sure enough, I can just make out a panicked figure running in the overpass. From here, I can see that he doesn't have his bag strapped to his back – he must have ditched it after leaving Betty and I. I can only hope that he has successfully hidden the USB with the data on it, because if he's caught with it on him, then it's game over. Ross would not only have access to the Other Guy, but he would be able to attempt to replicate what was done to Bruce as well.

"Target is in the overpass!" I hear someone say from the hand-held transceiver hanging from the holster around Ross' waist. "We have a visual, he's locked in!"

In a flash, Ross whips the transceiver to his mouth. "Do not engage! I repeat, do not engage!"

Betty and I watch helplessly as Bruce looks frantically from one end of the overpass to the other, before coming to a complete standstill in the middle. Swarms of soldiers run along the open ground in front of the building, while others appear on the roofs of neighbouring buildings. Every single one of them has guns in their hands and to my dismay, they are all pointed directly at Bruce.

I whirl on Ross, anger bubbling throughout my veins as I snap, "You know you can't kill him with guns! You've seen what happens if his heart beats too fast! You're about to unless him in his worst form, which means a lot of you men are about to get hurt or killed. Call them off. Now."

"This doesn't concern you, agent. Know your place."

"Call them off! These men are going to die!"

Ignoring my plea altogether, he keeps his stern gaze locked with mine as he brings the transceiver up to his mouth and barks, "Put two canisters in with him!"

Calling him something that would have my mother rolling over in her grave – and earning a reproachful glare from Ros in turn – I turn and watch as two soldiers in front of the building and fire two metal tubes through the air. They shatter through the glass of the overpass and begin to emit gas as they hit the ground, prompting Bruce to quickly tug off his blue shirt and hold it to his mouth in an attempt to prevent the gas from seeping into his lungs.

"No!" Betty screams, tears starting to stream down her face before she takes off running towards the library. It only take me a split second to react and follow after her.

"Get them back here!"

I make it a few yards before hand grabs at my shoulder, alerting me that the soldiers have caught up. I slow down to let the hand get a tighter grip on my shoulder before I then reach back, grab the arm and bend down. Using all the strength I can muster, I flip the soldier over my body so that he lands on his back with a painful grunt on the ground in front of me. I barely have enough time to straighten before I am yanked backwards from behind, watching as two other soldiers move past us and run after Betty.

The soldier attempts to drag me back and further away from Betty, so I use one of my hands to grab his arm and the other to wrap around his neck. Then, I kick my legs up as high in the air as I can, allowing the top half of my back to lean against the soldier's chest while the bottom half of me is suspended in the air. Tucking my knees in, I kick my legs out and allow gravity to bring them crashing back towards the ground, bringing myself and the surprised soldier with them. I land in a crouch and twist my body as the soldier loses his grip on me and hurtles towards the ground. I land with a huff on my back but recover quickly, hands pressed beside my head and legs bent over my face, kicking them upright and flipping upright once more, just in time to witness Betty being tackled to the ground by one of the soldiers.

Thrusting my hands forward, I create a strong gust of wind that send the soldier off Betty and flying through the air. Once he's clear and Betty begins to pull herself upright, I dart forward and don't come to a stop until I'm towering over her shaking form. She looks up at me, tears streaming down her face and mixing with the dirt that is smudged there from where her face had hit the ground. "Lydia –"

"We gotta go, this is going to get ugly very fast." I grab her hand and pull her up before tugging her away from the building. "We have to –"

I am cut off by a deafening, earth-shaking roar, causing Betty to wrench us to a stop.

Before anyone can move, the now cloudy overpass bursts apart in an explosion of debris and shattering glass, hitting the surprised soldiers on the lawn beneath, their shrieks of pain and shock easily lost in the sounds of large pieces of building debris crashing to the ground. Once such piece comes flying straight towards Betty and I, and acting quickly, I create a second gust of wind with a flick of my wrist that sends it to the left instead.

It lands on the ground with a heavy crash at the same time the Other Guy bursts free from the ruined overpass.

He lands heavy on the ground that rattles the earth beneath my feet, and his angry, green frame slowly pulls itself to his feet and clenches its massive fists as it glares at the soldiers before him. It bares its teeth, a growl emitting from the back of its throat, before it steps forward and wrenches its arms back as a terrifying roar echoes from it it's throat.

"Oh my God," Betty breathes beside me. "Bruce?!"