Jayden returned to the conscious world one sense at a time.
First was the bitter taste of copper, closely followed by the incessant noise of a ticking clock; third came the feeling of being shrouded in something warm and comfortable. She wrinkled her nose at the antiseptic stench of medicine and chemicals with an undertone of soap. It burned her nose to the point she could almost taste it.
When she cracked open her eyes, she was greeted by pain; how she came to be wherever she was came to her like a rushing wave on the beach. She pushed herself onto her elbows and swung her legs to the edge of the bed. Her intent to stand was cut short when her arm jerked back by handcuffs shackling her to the thin metal railing above her pillow.
She tugged harshly, but all it did was make the chain clatter. She tried to twist her wrist from the restriction, but to no avail; it was too tight. It quickly dawned on her that the cuff wasn't only the restraint, a familiar tightness was sealed around her throat. Her free hand flew up to find a thick metal collar, just like her old one.
"No!" she choked, tugging at it harshly in a fruitless vain. "I can't! I can't!"
There suddenly wasn't enough air. She tried once and then twice, and while she was breathing, it didn't feel enough. Her vision swayed, and the room was shrinking; it was too small, there wasn't enough air.
Her nails clawed at the skin around her collar, and she was too blind to notice the pain that blossomed soon after.
Everything was on overload. The ticking of the clock boomed like cannons, the metal restraints were blocks of ice, and the putrid chemical scent in the air was poison clogging up her throat and burning her lungs.
"St-stop!" she heaved, gripping her hair.
It's just a stupid nightmare. Tony would wake her. Tony always woke her.
But he didn't; there was only her and the cold. She pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged them as a paltry attempt at comfort. Her eyes were scrunched up as she tried to believe. She had no idea how long she sat until she regained some resemblance of control.
Sighing, she banged her head lightly against the metal bars of her bedpost. She was completely stuck. The only thing she had on her side was Theo. She lazily looked around to ask what he believed they should do, but frowned. He was nowhere in sight.
"Shit."
Her hand flew to the cursed collar. When she was knocked out, Theo was inside her pendant, which meant he was, in all probability, still there. Her agitation was flared, and with jerky movements, she returned to pulling her collar and consequently her neck. She was alone. For the first time in her life, she felt truly alone.
No Theo to comfort her, no Avengers to care for her, no school children to play with, not even the horrible Elizabeth. Perhaps she already lost all of those things; she could still feel the warm, wet blood of Melissa dripping from her fingertips and the coppery smell of the stained floor of sanguine fluid from enemies and innocents alike.
How many people died? How many did she kill?
She shook her head and decided to get a proper look at the place she was confined to. The tiles covering the floor and walls were bland white, making her nose scrunch up in disgust. Only four things were occupying the small, colourless room: the warm, rickety bed she was sitting on, the annoying ticking clock, a speaker in the right corner, and a camera in the opposite.
She glanced back over at the clock: ten o'clock. So at least seven hours had passed since New York. She glanced up; above her was a boxed-sized grated window. She shuffled upwards to get a better look, but the handcuff kept her down so she could only get a glimpse of the clear, blue sky.
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Unforeseen¹
FanfictionJYD2641 had enough. In her seven years, she's only ever known the cruel hands of her doctors, who were determined to make her the next Winter Soldier. All she'd ever known was death, pain, and fear. Instead of a parent's loving embrace, she had the...
