Kidnapped

16

Help??? I started this late February??? IT'S CURRENTLY SEPTEMBER!!!!  Nearly 7 months!!! Damn, and I thought Here For You took me a while. I DON'T HAVE A PLAN FOR ANY OF THIS!!!

Everyone eyed me suspiciously as I stepped down the stairs. The second my eyes landed on Peter, Steve's hand shot to the kids arm. I feel sorry for him.

But no time for weakness now.

That was two days ago, he needs to get over it.

It seemed Peter, Steve, Stark, and Shuri were the only ones here.

Yeah, Shuri. Some random girl that was brought in yesterday. JARVIS told me about her, despite me not being able to care less. Shuri had her legs crossed on the couch, which wasn't allowed, but Stark wasn't paying attention. He was watching some true crime show on tv.

I made it to the bottom of the steps and headed for the kitchen.

"You finally gonna eat?" Stark yelled from the couch. Oh yeah, totally. I just... casually eat lasagna with a large knife, ya know? But why bother with responding when the front door is right there?

I slowly opened the drawer so it didn't make a sound and carefully drew out one of the smaller, yet sharper knives. It would fit in my sleeve much better than an obnoxiously large one.

I slipped it into my hoodie pocket and quickly threw together a sandwich. "I'm going for a walk, I'll eat on the way," I finally replied. That had to be in the Guinness World Record for latest verbal reaction.

Stark rose from the couch and his footsteps got louder as he neared me. He rounded the corner and motioned for me to hold out my wrist. He was holding a small, grey, metal bracelet.

"I think I've been a prisoner long enough, give me longer than a month to be free. It's a simple walk," I turned my back to him as a slipped the knife into my sleeve, sharp end first.

He sighed, setting the metal on the counter. I turned towards him. I barely had to look up to see him, he's so short.

But yeah, I still have to look up. Lame.

"You have a good walk, kid," he patted my shoulder. I pretended not to notice the sudden shift in the front, lower half of my hoodie. I simply nodded and bagged the sandwich, heading out.

I walked for about 10 minutes, picking out a nice place by a tree before reaching into my pocket and taking the tracker out. Stark isn't as sly as he thinks. Either that, or he thinks I'm stupid. Probably both. I tossed it beside the tree. If Stark caught on that I wasn't picnicking by a nice tree in a nice park, then he'd be too late to catch me anyway.

I'm not the best with the landscape, but surely I can get a taxi to take me. I flipped up my hood and kept my head down.

I kept walking. In the distance, I could see a yellow taxi parked with someone climbing out.

By distance, I mean two blocks away.

I walk faster, getting closer and closer. I catch up and wave it down.

I hop into the back seat and he asks me where to. "It's uh.... Any idea what the Red Room is?"

"No, I don't think-"

"A big building where they kidnap people and hold them hostage and tear them apart? Sound familiar?"

He caught my eye in the rear view mirror. "Who are you?"

"Someone who doesn't like them, do you know the place or not?"

He shook his head.

"Then I'll tell you which way to turn."

"I don't think I can-"

"Well you're going to. Drive,"

"Ma'am-"

"Fucking drive," I demanded. "They killed someone I care about, and I'm not letting it slide. Now take me there, or I'll take myself. And it won't be by foot."

He paused for a minute, watching me in the mirror. I kept my head down, only watching him through my eyebrows at some points. What was he going to do, identify me? He saw my eyes once, and now all he can see is pale skin, short dark hair, hidden under a black hoodie.

"Is that a threat, ma'am?"

"You bet your fucking ass it is, can we get going?"

He swallowed the contents in his throat and started the car.

"Head west," I directed. Whatever he tried saying to counteract my argument, I wasn't listening. "Head. West."

Now it was only common sense that one has to pay for a taxi, but I think he took it pretty well, right? It's not like I want to kill him or anything.

"There a road to cross the desert?"

"Des- should I turn the A/C on?"

"Answer my question."

"There is."

"Find it. Cross."

~~

However long it's been, I don't know. But I somehow remember some of the cacti that I'd walked by on my way to this side. They just seemed familiar, but I wasn't near a road. Not that I could see, anyway. Don't blame me, it was dark.

"So who you gonna tell about me?" I asked. He'd tell someone, people don't just casually manipulate taxi drivers. Or do they? Damn it, Stark, let me out more often.

But I never bother to ask.

"N-No one, ma'am," he must be young. He's so scared, so small, and such a push-over.

"Oh, surely you'll tell someone about me. Unless... you already have?"

He was watching the road ahead of him, so I raised an eyebrow as I lifted my head. His hair was dark and shaggy, but neat enough that it was obvious he cared about it. Casual tee with ripped jeans, bracelets on both wrists and rings on both hands, multiple on some fingers and then others without any. His knuckles were white against the wheel.

Sweat beaded above his brow and when he moved his hands along the wheel, a trail of anxious sweat was left behind. I put my hand on his shoulder and he jumped harshly. I had to restrain myself from laughing. "I'm not gonna kill you, that's not my job right now. Call your shit and get me to my destination."

He nodded, but clearly didn't believe me.

"Listen. I'll leave a good note. Find a phone, leave a review, uh," I searched the small car, little white cards sitting in the cup holder. I pulled one out, "on this website, alright? He got me where I needed to go, and did it well. I'll leave five stars, sound good?"

"Yes, but uh.... Full respect, ma'am, but... I'm not a 'he', I... I go by 'they them',"

"Okay? They did a good job. Sound fine?" I didn't want for a response. "Good. So what button did you press to alert someone about me?"

I'm testing them, to see if they'll lie to me. I watch true crime sometimes too, I know how these things work.

"I... I didn't."

"I see the little panic button over there. Tell you what, tell them off, and I'll leave you alive. Or I can fight everyone, win, steal your car, and go my job on my own. And you won't get that review."

They gulped and nodded, one hand snaking off the wheel and pressing the button so the light turned off. Their hands were shaking violently. Am I really that intimidating?

"Good job."

Wanda x Reader fic in progress 🤪 Earlier I saw a Wanda x Nat edit and I don't know how to feel about it. I don't wike it.