𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 desperately needed to be changed

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 desperately needed to be changed.

The buzzing noise seemed to be drilling into Charlie's mind as she sat with her knees pulled in to her chest, staring at the glass windows into the operating room.

Her fingers found the raw skin of her thumbs again, but the band-aids Tony had wrapped them in prevented further injury. The sick part of her felt almost disappointed at the lack of pain; there was nothing to ground her in the midst of the anxiety creeping into her bones.

"How did you guys find her?" Harley sat next to her in those hard-plush chairs, his feet tapping rhythmically.

Charlie stared through the windows at Gary and her Dad, both decked in scrubs, medical masks, and hair nets.

The Redhead lay on an operating table, still and unmoving as ever. The only indication that the sedative had worked was the fact that her eyes were closed, and her breaths were so small and controlled.

Harley's feet tapped anxiously as he waited for an answer.

"Do you have ADHD?" Charlie asked bluntly.

Harley turned red and he fidgeted with the mittens on his hands. His massive winter coat and scarf swamped his tiny figure, and Charlie was reminded once again just how little he was. "Yeah, so?"

"S'not a bad thing," Charlie muttered, her eyes glued on her Dad as he hovered over the Redhead. "I have it too."

"Oh," Harley sat up straighter. "Really?"

Charlie nodded distantly. "Yup."

Harley sat for a moment, watching Gary and Tony as the men worked on the Redhead's mask, occasionally dropping tiny metal scraps into a metal tin.

Harley nodded, not seeming to pick up on the way Charlie's jaw was strained. She couldn't afford to freak out right now; not when the focus needed to be on the Redhead and that god-awful mask. So instead, she let the irritation and anxiety build up into a hard mass in her chest, ready to explode.

Harley rambled for a few more minutes in that adorable southern accent, and Charlie tried to listen, she really did- but there was a certain tension coming from the operating room.

She could feel it, and she could see the way Tony had frozen, his hands trembling slightly. The faint metal clinking of the tiny nails had ceased, and Gary was looking down at the Redhead with wide eyes.

Something was wrong.

The thrum of Charlie's heartbeat echoed in her ears, drowning out everything else, as Gary's mouth moved too quickly for her to read his lips.

The suddenly Tony was yelling. and with a clang of metal, his dropped the small screwdriver he was holding.

"No- I can't- no-"

𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗦 ➣ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤-𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬¹Where stories live. Discover now