Arrows - Animo Sequel {Completed}

Chapter Five: Caged

I'm back again! Two updates in two days! I just wanted to apologize for being gone for so long. I'm neglecting all of my stories, and I don't mean to. School is killing me and I'm so busy with moving and trying to keep up in my relationships and stuff, so I don't get a lot of time just to myself. Anyway, I thought I'd surprise you with this rapid update. I'm sorry it's short; there was only so much I could write for this one. Hope you like!

Chapter Five: Caged

Barton's P.O.V.

I woke up.

Sitting up off the floor, I rubbed my forehead and groaned. I opened my eyes, but was met with nothing. I couldn't see. Everything was pitch black. I lifted my hand and held it out; I couldn't see it. Slowly, I moved it closer and closer to my face until it was touching my nose. Still, I couldn't see it. It was too dark.

"Hey, who turned out the lights?" I asked, hoping someone would be nearby to laugh. There was no reply.

The floor beneath me was smooth and cool, like the tile on the helicarrier. The only difference was that I couldn't feel the steady vibration of the engines when I laid my palm against it. Either the helicarrier had landed and we weren't moving, or I wasn't aboard it at all.

I pushed myself to my feet. There was no sense in trying to look around; it was too dark to make anything out. Regardless, I reached out and try to feel my way around my surroundings. Nothing met my fingers. As I walked, I didn't bump into anything. There wasn't a piece of furniture anywhere to stub my toe on. As disorientation and slight panic began to set in, even stepping on a Lego would have been welcomed.

If I'm not on the helicarrier, then where am I?

I couldn't tell if my thoughts were being projected into the open air or if it was just in my head. There was no noise outside of it. My footsteps weren't even making a sound. 

This is so strange.

I ran a hand through my hair, shaking my head to get some sense of order back. If I couldn't see where I was going, and I didn't know where I was, how could I be expected to escape? What was I supposed to do now?

"Barton."

I turned, alarmed. It was the first voice I'd heard since waking up. There was no one standing behind me, no one there to tell me what was going on. But that voice had sounded unmistakably like - 

"Barton. Look at me, will you?"

I turned back around. There was suddenly a little window of light ahead of me, the brightness illuminating the empty space around it. "Mo," I said in a breathy voice. It was her that had spoken, I was absolutely sure of it. I couldn't see her, but I knew she was there. "Mo, where are you?"

"Won't you even look at me?"

I ran for the light. As I grew nearer, Mo's face became illuminated within it. A burst of joy rushed through my veins and I reached for her. Oh, Mo, I thought. You've been gone so long.

Just as I reached the light, metal bars closed around it, cutting me off. The light was nothing but a floating cube, slowly bouncing up and down. Mo's face was still in it, but she was scowling at something. She was looking directly at me, but it was like her eyes weren't seeing me. "Mo," I said. "It's me. I'm right here."

"Don't look so hateful," she spat. "I'm trying to be a good person and remove the pole that's stuck up your ass."

"There's no pole. I just don't want to talk to you," I replied, but it wasn't me. At least, I didn't think it was. I certainly hadn't said that. But the voice that had sounded exactly like mine. "Get away from me, Mo. There's no use trying to fix me."

What the hell am I talking about? I asked myself. I was convinced that the person who'd spoken really was me. But why would I not want to talk to Mo, and what did I need fixing for?

Her hand reached out and grabbed at something. I assumed it was my shoulder, because she was suddenly a lot closer to my face. There was a thudding sound, like my back had hit the wall. "What happened the night you were taken?" she snapped.

The video feed, or whatever you want to call it, shifted from her face to Stark's, standing just behind her shoulder with his arms crossed. I felt my stomach twist. What was he doing so close to her? The feed went back to Mo. "I already told you what happened," I heard myself say. "Why do you keep asking me the same questions?"

"What did the aliens do to you?" she asked, every persistent. "You were never this much of an asshole before I left you."

That was a pang to my chest. Left me? You didn't have to make it sound so harsh, Mo.

Shut up and enjoy the show.

That wasn't me. I was positive that wasn't me. It didn't sound even remotely like my voice, and yet it was in my head. Who the hell are you?

Your conscience.

Bullshit. Where am I? What am I watching?

You're in your mind. You're watching reality. The voice was almost a purr, but much deeper than mine. Whoever it was chuckled. I bet you'd like to be back there, stopping what's happening now.

What - 

The sound of a heated argument filled my ears. Mo was practically screaming at me, and I wasn't being much quieter. "Why are you doing this?" Mo demanded, her voice angry and high-pitched.

"Why do you care so much?" I shot back.

"Stop it!" I said, but neither Mo nor the reality version of me could hear.

It was like time had slowed down. I barely saw my hand lash out on the video feed, but suddenly it was connecting with the side of Mo's face, knocking it to the side. She went down. I was frozen, my hands gripping the metal cage around the box of light. Stark and Rogers were rushing forward to drag Mo away from me; she was still kicking her legs, trying her best to incapacitate me. The two men were having a hell of a time handling her, but I couldn't focus on that for too long because Thor had come at me. His fist flew toward the "screen", or whatever I was watching, and came back with a few spots of blood on it. I assumed he'd broken - or at least bloodied - my nose. The feed didn't shake. I also assumed I hadn't flinched.

"Did I not tell you I would kill you the next time you laid a hand on her?" he demanded.

I found myself wondering when I'd laid a hand on her the first time, but I didn't have an answer to that. The feed went back in Mo's direction as Banner and Natasha stepped in to pull Thor off me. There was bruising around Mo's neck, barely visible through her hair that was flying every which way as she struggled. My heart sank and I looked at my hands. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew the bruises were my fault.

"Mo, calm down," Rogers ordered.

"No!" she screamed back. "Let go of me and let me kill him!"

I tried to reach between the bars and touch the angry tears on her cheeks, but I couldn't reach. "Good luck with that," the reality version of me said with a cold laugh. 

The tears were coming faster now and she sank to her knees, dragging Rogers and Stark down with her. "I thought I was your friend," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know why I ever stuck up for you. I should have never come back."

Again, I desperately tried to touch her, but the bars dug into my shoulder and wouldn't give, no matter how hard I pushed against them. Rogers and Stark were talking in hushed voices to her, trying to convince her that I was sick, that I wasn't in my right mind. But she just kept shaking her head, the tears still sliding down her flushed cheeks. The image would be permanently etched into my brain.