Penelope POV
You woke up in the same damn room of the abandoned warehouse. Pushing up on your elbows you looked down at the ache in your chest and immediately regretted that decision, bile rising in your throat at the sight of the oozing brand. They'd thrown your unconscious body face down on the hard floor, allowing the open wound to gather dirt and dust. Groaning, you rolled to your back to stare up at the flickering tube lights, their harsh flickering adding to the migraine pounding through your temples. You reached up to rub at your eyes, grimacing when the movement caused the injuries in your right hand to flair, puss and fresh blood seeping from the wounds. Dropping your right hand to your stomach, you used your left to pull away the hair that had stuck fast to the healing gash on your forehead. The branding happened who even knows how long ago, but one thing was clear. It was long enough that whatever sedative they'd given you to suppress your powers was beginning to wear off. You could feel the comforting weight of their presence flickering just out of your reach. The feeling brought with it a tantalizing amount of hope. Hope that you could somehow get out of this shit show. Fuck if you were going to wait for the team to rescue you. It would likely take them a bit to decode your message and then work on finding your location.
If they even got the fucking message.
You wouldn't put it beyond Strucker to lie to you about the camera. Though part of you knew that he was just confident and stupid enough to actually send out a live feed. Either way you needed a plan. Pushing up to a sitting position you gave the spinning room a moment to still before looking about. Your gaze caught on the spikes still bloodily protruding from the wall on the other side of the room. Wincing at the memory of the goons ripping your hand free, you turned away. Only for realization to strike and you turned right back.
Seriously what a bunch of fucking dim wits.
They'd literally left you a weapon. Two actually. Though you doubted the mangled, infected mess that was your right hand to be strong enough to actually wield anything. Still, you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Before you had the chance to go get the spikes, the door to your room burst open.
"Ever heard of knocking?" You sassed at the same two goons from before as they entered the room, instantly regretting the words when your split lip cried out from the movement.
They didn't answer, just sidestepping to make room for Strucker.
"Ahh. You're awake. Good. Come along." He waved you over and turned back the way he'd entered.
Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion but the chance to get out of this room, and possibly escape, overrode your sense of danger. Your spine and one of your knees popped as you painfully made your way up off the floor. Goon one let out a satisfied chuff when you groaned. You accidentally fell into him as you passed, clenching your left fist and jamming your elbow into the soft part of his stomach.
"Where are we going?" You called out to Strucker, curiosity overpowering the pain from speaking as you hurried your steps to catch up, the two goons taking up flanks beside you. "And can we stop by the bathroom first? I really gotta go." It wasn't a lie. Your bladder had been calling out since goon one drug you into the torture room earlier. The fact that you'd somehow managed not to piss yourself during that whole ordeal filled you with minimal pride.
"I have something new I'd like to try out and I think you'd be the perfect candidate." Strucker answered without turning to look at you.
"What do I look like, a fucking Guinea pig?"
"Yes." He answered, taking a flight of stairs down into what appeared to be an abandoned parking garage.
In the middle of the space sat another chair with the same straps attached to it. Okay, it was probably the same fucking chair as before. The new part was the laptop cart pushed up behind it, wires cascading to the machine on the floor. Strucker walked right up to the computer, ignoring you as the goons pushed you down into the chair strapping you in once again.
YOU ARE READING
Of Love and Lines (MCUxReader)
Fanfiction"Tenth floor, roger roger." You confirmed through the comm in your ear as you made your way up the stairwell. "Jesus Christ, it's like having two Livs." "I don't see a problem with that, do you?" You retorted. ~~~~~ In which one feisty younger sist...
