Kidnapped: Again?!?! (Solangelo x Avengers)

Part 12.

A/N: I pre-wrote this chappy! *proud feelings*

Will's character is a little boring in this fic, am I right? *evil laugh*
Let's fix that.....

TW: Brief descriptions of scars from past abuse.
It's not very graphic, but better safe than sorry. If you want to skip it  just skip from bold italics to bold italics. Stay safe loves.

Will POV:

When I had tried to stand, I felt quite dizzy, and I knew I had a fairly bad concussion. I could also tell that I had, at the very least bruised a rib.
In the end, Bruce insisted that Clint carry me to their infirmary.

But that was the least of my worries. If they made me take my shirt off, which they would have to do to tend to my ribs, they would see my scars. Not just my demigod ones, but the other ones too...
Even Nico doesn't know about those ones, and I have no intention of him finding out anytime soon.

Le time skippy brought to you by Viola and Brian T-Rex and their ballet troupe of ostriches~

The inside of the infirmary held a sterile air, with white walls and white immaculately made beds all lined up against the far wall.

Clint put me down on the closest bed, holding me stable for a moment before I put my arms behind me for support.
Nico sat down beside me, placing a had on my back in a comforting gesture.

The rest the Avengers were all spread out across the room, but you could tell the focus was on me.

Far too soon, Dr. Bruce was sitting on a spinny chair in front of me. "Alright Will, first thing we want to do is make sure that you don't have a concussion, ok?" I nod, glad to have a delay in the inevitable, even if I already know I have a concussion.

He started with the usual tests, like looking between his fingers until I got symptoms, but when he had me shake my head, I quickly gagged and Nico grabbed the closest trash can, into which I promptly proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach.

"I think it's safe to say that you're concussed," Said Dr. Bruce, putting the trash can where it belongs. "Now if you don't mind, could you please take off your shirt so I can check that you haven't broken a rib." Dr. Bruce continued. I shake my head adamantly but immediately stop when I feel nauseous. "I'd. Prefer. Not. Thanks." I said through my teeth, waiting for the nausea to pass.

Dr. Bruce looked sceptical so I continued, "I'm fine." At this, he raised and eyebrow and prodded me lightly on the stomach, eliciting an involuntary yelp of pain from me. "No, you're not fine. Now take of your shirt or we will for you." Threatened Dr. Bruce, but I just crossed my arms resolutely over my chest and fixed him with the worst glare I could muster, which, according to Nico isn't very threatening, but it's better than nothing.

Dr. Bruce looks past me and nods and before I can react, strong arms hold me in place while another set pulls my yellow t-shirt over my head. I could see Nico out of the corner of my eye getting ready to defend me, but he freezes at the sight of my bare back.

Nico knew about most of them, the demigod ones that is. But he had never seen the others. I had wrapped Mist around them as soon as I could. I stared down at my hands, not wanting to see the others reactions.

TW STARTS

The scars wove their way across my back, some thin and precise from knifes, and some random and lumpy from glass shards hitting my back. There were small round ones at the base of my shoulder blade. There were slits running along my stomach, where she had cut me.

TW ENDS  summary: he's got abuse scars from a female person.

Newest of all was the black and blue tint to the area around my ribs. Definitely at least a bit broken.

The room was silent. The tension so think you could cut it with a butter knife.

A/N: Sorry not sorry.
*runs away in fear of your wrath*

Vote, comment, tell me if you think I use to many commas.

-Theresa