Chapter seventy nine - Bargaining

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A/N: two chapters today because this one is kinda short and I still feel bad. Also can confirm that there will be at least ninety chapters of this fic; I think I've almost finished it :(( Happy reading (bad word choice)! <3

TW: blood, scarring (not self-harm I just realised how that sounded oof)

...

When you woke up, you were disappointed to find that the pain had subsided. All that remained was a dull ache across the left side of your face.

Bruce was stood looking over you.

"You have done some stupid things in your time, but this tops them all." he told you disbelievingly.

"I don't regret it." you croaked stubbornly, trying to work out if you felt any better emotionally. You'd have to wait and see.

"Y/N, thank god. You were out for ages, what were you thinking?!" Nat exclaimed, having just rushed into the room.

"Are my eyes still purple?" you asked, sitting up.

"Yes." they responded in union.

"You need to see this." Bruce said suddenly, handing you a mirror.

"What am I looking at?" you asked in confusion.

"Take a look at yourself." he replied.

You held the mirror up to your face, your jaw going slack with shock as you looked at your reflection.

A huge, bright red line ran from the top left corner of your forehead, all the way diagonally down through your eyebrow, across your left eyelid and down to your nose, where it stopped. There were stitches all through it.

"It's a miracle he didn't blind you in that eye. I don't know how you got away with it." Bruce said, sitting down next to your bed.

"Can you... I mean, will it...?" you couldn't articulate your thoughts.

"Will it scar? Definitely." Bruce said.

"Oh." you replied. You felt as though you should feel more upset about the fact that you would live the rest of your life with a gigantic scar across the left side of you face. It was your own fault.

"Do you remember anything? What happened?" Nat asked you in concern.

"I don't really know. I can't remember much." you lied. Bruce raised his eyebrows; Nat dropped the subject.

"You can't go doing that again, okay? It's dangerous, and there are people here you care about you, even if you seem to have no regard for your safety at the moment." Bruce told you.

"Sorry." you said. You meant it.

You'd gone a bit feral on the men in the alleyway. You hadn't killed anyone, but you hadn't exactly been gentle. They had been trying to kill you, in all fairness. You'd read their minds; that had been all the evidence you'd needed to attack them.

When one of the men had come towards you, knife raised, you'd hesitated. Only for a second, thinking about whether feeling pain would help with the emptiness you were experiencing. Maybe it would let it out. That second of hesitation had cost Bruce twenty stitches, and you a fat scar across your face.

The pain had helped a bit. The feeling of blood gushing down your face thick and fast took your mind off of the fact that Loki was dead. Until it didn't. Then you'd teleported someplace really far away; an empty field, and screamed and sobbed some more, accidentally knocking down an entire barn with your magic. You hadn't meant to do that.

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