Tortured Genius (A Marvel Fanfiction: Reader Insert)

Chapter 3: Way Down We Go

"Ten? That's all we have?" Your eyes flickered to the time bomb that was indeed counting down from ten. "Shots fired."

Garett shrugged. "Those idiots must've started it when they realized they couldn't win. We've also tried to disable it, but we got nothing."

"We'll look around then. Do what you can. (Your name), Fitz, follow me." Phil waved you over and all three of you made your way down passages, searching for the cure for Skye.

Unfortunately, the halls seemed quite endless. Corridors to the left, doors on the right. Smells of dust and blood wafted up your nose and you scrunched it up in distaste. After walking for a few, you saw Coulson stop and stare through a window. You too paused, taking a peak.

You wished you hadn't.

Inside was a machine with mechanical arms frozen in motion, right above a bed where a person could've laid and been operated on. Your only guess, by the way Phil sweated upon sight, was that he had been. And no matter how crazy you were, no matter how wired you acted, no human should ever have that done.

"Sorry, Phil." You said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He almost shrugged it off, but changed his mind and nodded.

"Let's keep moving."

Fitz wandered ahead, and suddenly pointed to a door stationed at his left. "Well, I think I found it."

The door read: GH. 325

"Nah." You snarked, sighing. "That couldn't possibly be the one." Fitz scowled, but Phil moved forward.

"No. No that's it." He opened the door and walked inside, leaving you standing alone with Fitz.

"So, do we go in, or-"

Fitz cut you off. "I think you should stay out, but I'm going in." He said, closing the door behind him.

You frowned. "Rude."

Following, you opened the door slowly and spotted Coulson and Leo sifting through various potions and serums, finding nothing.

"Need help?" You asked.

"All the help we can get."

Just then you cracked up and picked up a metal pole, swinging it in small circles and pointed it at Leopold. "I see from you collar stud you have an apple tree and a wife with a limp."

Fitz glared at you. "(Your name), now is not the time for-"

"Bit of a limp?" You asked, cutting him off for a second time that day. "Bit of a wife?"

"No."

"Bit of an apple?" You flashed a bit of a grin. "Come on, work with me here."

"If you aren't going to help," Fitz continued, since Phil was ignoring both of you during his search, "then leave."

You sighed spotted a label, strode over to a fridge in the corner and opened it, pulling out a container. "GH.325, Mr. Stoic. Here it is!"

Coulson clapped you on the back, though you noticed the weight he put on the slap was less then that of Garett's. Why that mattered you knew not, but you told yourself to keep it in mind. "I knew your ramblings would matter. Alright, let's grab one and go."

Snatching one, Fitz stuffed in his bag and raced out the door, bumping into Garett.

"Five minutes left, Phil. Got it?"

Phil managed a smile. "We got it. (Your name), actually found it."

Garett gave an unsettling smile again, and he winked. "I knew they could help." Then to Coulson, "Well we should hurry back. I'd like to get it and us out of here in one piece, eh?"