𝐏𝐞𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (marvel fanfic)

Chapter 20

"Oh, but I've got all the time in the world," Sarah retorted with a languid glance at his bloodied nose. "I've been wanting to take a break anyways," she continued, voice dripping with irony. She hated being inactive, it gave her mind too much time to think.

Clint sighed, before slamming his hand on the iron table, "Listen here, we don't have the time to play your little mind game." He stared straight at her, reeling back a little at the eye contact. "Either you cooperate or we consider you an enemy. And believe me, you don't want the Avengers as your enemies."

Natasha cut in, "We've also got enough proof to put you in prison for the rest of your life." She threw the file on the table.

Sarah scoffed, straightening up a little before skimming through the papers, she had to give it to their team of lawyers, every single charge was cleverly worsened, with little bits of falsehood mixed in. She could never clear her name unless she paid millions, money which she did not have—and they knew that.

"What exactly do you want from me?" Her smile was anything but an indication of happiness.

Tony kindly answered, still nursing his bleeding nose, "the truth."

"No," Sarah chuckled humorlessly, "what you want is proof that I'm harmless."

"That's not-" Natasha rebutted, feeling that things weren't going the right way.

"Don't joke with me, not with these handcuffs-" she raised her hands, where tiny blades could be seen hidden in the handle of the cuffs.

"Precautionary measures," Tony calmly explained, not meeting her gaze. If they were dealing with an enhanced they had to take some precautions.

"You're not making this easy, Ms. Cano," Clint commented. He glanced at Natasha to see her shake her head—there were some more persuasive methods they could use... but she was a civilian officially, and as such they couldn't touch her.

They were at a standstill with neither side wanting to relent.

"Alright, let's put this on hold," Tony held a hand up, the other hand too busy stopping the nosebleed. "As for you," he stared at Sarah, "you can think things over for the night!" He smiled at her with the arrogance of an undefeated billionaire before leaving. This image would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the obvious injury on his nose.

Natasha dwindled behind, "You know it's for your own good." And she left.

Sarah sighed, crossing her arms on the table and resting her head on it. "That's what they all say..." She closed her eyes, giving in to her weariness.

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The next time she opened her eyes, the bright light made her groan before her ears narrowed unto the sound that woke her up. Chaos, not the kind she liked, it was screams and sounds of shots being fired.

"Not again," she whined, almost falling back asleep before she remembered the party that was taking place just above her—which Peter and Delia and the rest of the interns were attending. "Fuckkkk," she complained aloud glaring at the cameras not knowing if anyone was on the other hand of it. "I swear to god, if it's another organized trap, I'm going to-" she mumbled an endless stream of curses, letting off some steam before closing her eyes and concentrating.

She didn't need to concentrate too hard as soon enough a faint smell of blood travelled to her nose. The steely scent unique to the scarlet liquid was one she was very familiar with, trained to distinguish even. Blood... Not something she liked to wake up to.

Sarah breathed in, contemplating her choices: being noticed by her favorite charitable organization, Hydra and blowing her cover or risking losing the few people she actually cared for and that made her life actually enjoyable. She laughed, there wasn't anything to weight there. Her conscience wasn't dead yet.

With a sigh, she turned toward the camera, raised her middle finger and pulled out her tongue. A droplet of her saliva flew and destroyed the camera with a precise shot. She cracked her knuckles, staring at the reinforced door with a frown. "Alright, let's do this..." It took a whole minute before a water spear formed before her and slammed against the door, successfully hammering it into the wall. 

She ran up the stairs, struggling through the crowd of screaming people, dreading the sight welcoming her at the top of the stairs as the smell of blood deepened. The doors were wide open to the scene welcoming her. A dozen people rushed past her to take the stairs, while a few others were on the floor, blood oozing from their wounds. In the background, causing tremors in the building, she could see a dozen of Stark's armors fighting the Avengers without any care for the damages caused. In the corner of her eye, she saw Clint widening his eyes at her but continuing to help the civilians flee.

"Careful!" Peter shouted as he threw a table in front of the blast, successfully protecting a handful of people.

"Peter?" Delia's voice came softly, careful and timid but the blood splattered on her face made Sarah see red. Delia was standing beside Peter and was the first to see what had happened. No one noticed the cold glint in her eyes.

An armor stood on the side; it's arm still raised with some smoke emitting from it.

Sarah took a step forward through the crowd and finally saw—Peter slowly stumbling forward, a clear rip in his stomach.

"He covered me," Delia muttered weakly, biting her lips hard as she tore her dress and began bandaging the gushing wound.

"You're here," Peter mumbled as he saw Sarah before wincing. He flinched but kept eye contact, seemingly searching for something in her gaze.

He wasn't a fool; he knew that her skills in fighting weren't something she could earn on her own and that what she showed him was only the tip of it. But that was the basis of their relationship, to not prode, they both had secrets of their own. He didn't have the confidence to ask about the scars he saw on her body, not when her eyes seemed to darken at the sight of them.

Still he knew better than to believe her blank face meant anything other than—she was pissed.

"Can I trust you?" Sarah asked, staring at Delia with an unsaid request. If she saw the way Delia flinched, she didn't comment on it. Only after receiving a hesitant nod, did she leave them alone to head for the fighting battlefield where the armor had rushed back to.

Her head was clear, far more than she wanted it to be. She was angry, yes, but the silent kind of fury, one simmering beneath the surface. Her control didn't allow her to lose her temper, not yet.

"Midgardian, please turn back," a huge man stood on her path, his hammer in hand as he punched another armor away. Thor, a god of some kind if she remembered correctly.

She didn't care though, the only thing in her line of sight was the armor floating away and firing indistinctly. She walked past him, avoiding his grip. "Don't stop me." And he didn't.

Thor had seen a lot of people in his long life, and if there was one kind he knew better than to get in the path of, it was those whose anger could burn even a god. 

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welcome to the Age of Ultron movie i guess :D