𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘢 𝘙𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘧𝘧 [✓]

Ch. 27 Not What I Expected [𝔢.]

Word count: 1.1k

Nat's POV:

I hear it then, a scream I know too well, only usually it's shouting my name. I dash towards the elevator, my mind racing and imagining the worst. I jam my finger against the down button until I almost break it, but nothing happens. I rush back to the others, whose faces are stained with hidden fright. "Stark, what up with the Friday?" I demand, my heart pouncing in my chest.

"Nothing that I know of, she was working fine when I got up."

I run a rushed hand through my hair. Wanda meets my eyes. She's thinking what I'm thinking, I know it.

"Nat, calm down. I'm sure she's fine." Steve's attempt to soothe me ultimately fails. I have no time to be worrying over slowing my breathing.

"No. You know what, I'll take the window." I stay exaggeratingly.

"Or just take the stairs." Wanda whispers. I glare at her, but she matches me evenly. I give in as soon as I start. I nod once, directing my question to Wanda. "You coming?"

She replies with a hesitant nod.

"Stark, get Friday back online."

Together, we rush from the room, my mind still racing, picturing the worst. "She'll be fine," Wanda says quietly, "probably just overreacting about the needle." But it doesn't sound like she's convincing herself anymore.

As we approach the lab, I reach for my gun, taking it quietly out of it's holster. I slip off the safety cap and point it at the door. Wanda and I share a quick nod before I ram into the wood and throw it open exposing Banner's lab.

The room's a mess, paperwork scattered, equipment tossed. I don't even have to look around to know that there was a fight in here. My eyes scan the room, immediately tracing the dropped blood and smashed glass. I look to my right, only to find Eliza slumped against the wall, knife protruding from her shoulder and blood staining her white T-shirt. I gasp and rush towards her. My emotions clash within my head and I can't think straight. I don't waste much time in unsticking her from the wall, making sure not to take the dagger out of her body, in fear of losing too much blood. By her pale face and cold skin, I'd say she's already lost enough.

"Wanda, I'm taking her medical. You coming?" I murmur quietly as I pick Eliza up bridal style. Wanda says nothing, and as I turn around to expect an answer from her, I see her staring intently at something behind the work bench. She meets my gaze, her eyes a state of fear. She gulps and raises a shaking hand to point at something. Walking towards her, I adjust Eliza in my arms, I sincerely overestimated her weight. She's like a bag of feathers.

I look on past Wanda's shaking hand, to see what she's horrified at. I lose all ability to think, to breathe, to look, as my eyes focus on the body lain out in front of us. A man, no older than Stark lays on the floor, meters away from Bruce, and where Bruce looks unscathed and peaceful, the gaping hole in the man's chest suggest he was attacked by something stronger than a manmade weapon. I look from Wanda to Eliza and then back to the bloody body.

"Can you . . . ?" I ask softly, offering Eliza's quaint body to Wanda. She nods and takes the girl from my arms. I edge my way towards the man, the hole in his chest the size of my fist. I swallow a breath and muster enough courage to tug up on his sleeve. Just a I expected, the Hydra crest leaps at me, the chanting of the motto floating softly through the air. Before I stand, something grabs at my leg, and I shake it off desperately. The man opens his eyes weakly.

"Hail . . . Hydra." He mutters. I swallow. "Dreykov's . . . coming . . . for you."

I can't take anymore, shutting out his voice by blasting a bullet through his head. His eyes roll back into his skull and his arm lays limp. I kick it away before stepping back to Wanda, slipping Eliza back into my arms.

"Take care of Bruce, Maximoff. Wake him up . . . somehow."

She nods slowly at me, watching intently as I leave the lab, carrying a limp Eliza in my arms.

I make it to the infirmary, setting her down on a bed, the blood dripping from her wounds already staining the white sheets a deep shade of velvet. I take it slow, prying the dagger from her shoulder. As soon as I hear a wince and a yelp fall from her lips, I pull back and stop immediately. "It's okay, baby. I got you." I soothe.

She nods subtly and I return to the wound. I try to grit my teeth and pull again, but her whimpers stop me. I can't hurt her. "I've got to get it out, sweetheart."

She croaks, her voice raw. "I know."

I try and smile, but it's barely lifting the corners of my lips. Something clicks in my head, and I pray that Tony's got Friday's systems back up. "Friday?" There's hope in my voice.

"Good morning, Ms Romanoff, how can I be of assistance?"

I sigh heavily in relief. "Please send the jet for Cho. We're gonna need her."

Friday blanks for a few seconds, I give her the time. "Message sent, Ms Romanoff. Dr Cho is on her way."

I thank the A.I. and turn back to the girl lying in front of me, her face the image of agony, her hands gripping tightly to the metal skirting of the bed. "Elle, sweetheart, I'll go slowly, but it has-"

"Just get it out, Nat." She sobs quietly, her senses returning to her head, and with them come her emotions. "I don't care how much it hurts. Just get it out. Please."

"Okay." I play with my fingers as I hover my hand above the knife. Eliza closes her eyes and clutches her jaw, anticipating the pain that will follow. Wrapping a hand around the wood of the dagger, I wait a moment before yanking at the weapon, dislodging it from her shoulder. A scream rips from her lungs, until her voice breaks into pieces and she returns to sobbing. I close my eyes at the sounds, desperately wishing her pain on me.

But wishes don't come true, because wishes aren't real.