Freedom | Avengers Story

Part 14

"Stop, stop! Enough! I've had enough." I surrender, holding my hand up. I'm on my hands and knees, panting like a dog induced with fatigue.

I cannot keep up with Natasha. She's restless. She's feisty. She's everything I'm not.

Bruises in my body pump with excruciating discomfort and the air capacity in my lungs is not enough to supply me for the rest of my living days. She's beaten me to pieces. She's impossible!

"Freedom, don't be discouraged. It's going to take some time. You're getting there, however. Just keep practising. I won't be going easy on you from now on." Natasha tells me. She holds out her hand and I take it, forcing myself onto my feet.

"When have you even gone easy on me, Natasha?" I protest against her statement, holding my ribs as I practically feel them cracking.

She giggles, her deep voice soothing my pains slightly.

"And by the way. Call me 'Nat'. It's short and more convenient than 'Natasha'" She suggests, and I nod, confirming that I understand. She tries to encourage me, and I appreciate her efforts however she'll have to try a little harder.

-"Come on! You threw me down a couple minutes ago."

-"You tripped over my wing."

She offers her dainty hand and pulls me up once I grab hold of it.

"Alright. Let's call it a day. Have Bonnie heal you a little bit, and I want you back here tomorrow." She says, grabbing her coat off the ground and throwing it on, slipping her arms into the sleeves.

It hurts to walk, and I'm taking my sweet time before I suffer further. I'd fly but my wing still isn't healed. I don't want to add to my burdens.

Wanda noticed my struggle and begins to approach me, concern written in her face.

"If you're having trouble, I can help." She offers.

I appreciate the offer but, how? Wanda looks quite frail and petite. I'm not sure there's much she can do to help me.

"It's alright. I don't want to trouble you." I decline. I take one step forward, and I fall to my knees, the pain in my ribs increasing. I whine in agony, and Wanda does not give in.

I suddenly feel myself levitate, a light, cool breeze around my body and crimson smoke fluttering around me. I'm lifted a fair height off the ground, and I look down to see Wanda using her energy and her powers to prevent me from walking.

"I'm taking you to the car." She tells me, and walks off with me floating behind her.

This is interesting. I haven't experienced something like this before.

__

Natasha opens the car door while Wanda slowly slips me in and settles me down gently.

"There you go." She adds, dusting her hands of work.

"Thanks. It was...unnecessary but necessary." I laugh.

"You take care of yourself, Freedom. Rest up and I'll battle you tomorrow." Natasha warns, waving with an innocent smile.

By Gods. Her words are as sharp as the end of a dagger, yet, her face is as soft-cotton as a sheep's wool.

I nervously wave to them as the guard closes the door and drives me back home.

Home. I realise I call Bonnie's house my home, now. A place of comfort, food, care and...love. The things that were as foreign to me as this new species is now presenting itself in the most charming way possible. Is this a blessing, or the calm before the storm?

__

"Ow! Bonnie, please be more careful." I squeal. Bonnie's currently trying to sort out the bruises peppered on my body by Natasha. As she presses against it with her healing cream, ironically, the pain only gets worse.

"Stop being a sissy. I'm almost finished." She scolds, finishing up on the last purple-green marking on my collarbone.

-"That Natasha is very strong, isn't she?"

I begin laughing, and stop when I feel a stabbing discomfort in my side. Because of my little mistake, Bonnie begins laughing at me.

"She is. She wouldn't know 'mercy' if it kicked her in the face." I explain, pulling down my top. As I attempt to stand up, Bonnie reads my head and grips my arm as I straighten my legs, locking my knees.

"It's alright. I got it. It's not that bad." I reassure, softly patting her hands.

"You know we're recolouring the bedroom walls, tomorrow. If you can't do it, it's okay." She tells me.

I'm stunned. I don't want her to do all that work herself.

"No, please. I can manage." I insist, and she gives in, knowing she can never beat me.

She begins to turn and walk away, before she skids slightly and paces back over to me.

"Hey, um...your enemy, Loki. Did you capture him already?" She suddenly questions.

She must have heard of Loki through her small television. She introduced me to the television on my first day here. It plays moving pictures and does something called 'broadcasts' worldwide issues. She could have caught on if they broadcasted it on the television.

"I wasn't there when he was captured but yes. He's being held in S.H.I.E.L.D's cells, at the moment. He's staying out of trouble." I explain.

"You're not gonna kill him, are you?" She asks.

I shake my head, frowning my lips.

"Not that I know of, no. The Avengers are more civil than that." I assure, giving her a smile.

She nods slowly, sighing.

"Okay, that's good." She mutters.

I'm stunned. Why is she concerned for Loki?

Her eyes meet the ground, however, I bend down to catch her gaze.

"Why is that good?" I query. Her head perks up in a sudden, flashy movement, as if she heard a menacing scream in the distance.

"Nothing! I-I just want to make sure my favourite heroes aren't the merciless kind. I've always known them to be fair." She stumbles over her words. It's like a cat has caught her tongue or something.

Something's not right.

I better not act on it. If I do, something might happen. So, I keep to myself.

"That's true. They are the very urbane type." I force a smile, hiding my curiosity.

"Okay, well. I'm heading to bed. We gotta start on the colouring as early as possible tomorrow!" She beams, hiding away any insecurities she portrayed to me in these past couple moments.

I nod, unresponsive.

-"Bye!"

I watch as she marches up the stairs, disappearing into the darkness above.

I might be overthinking. She might genuinely be concerned if her heroes are really the type to kill someone without hearing their side of the story. It's an understandable thing.

But if it's something truly wrong, I'll never stop blaming myself for not acting upon it sooner.