R͟u͟t͟h͟l͟e͟s͟s͟ {Q͟u͟i͟c͟k͟s͟i͟l͟v͟e͟r͟/ A͟v͟e͟n͟g͟e͟r͟s͟}

Chapter 40: Haunted

Pietro lay on the ground, curled up in anguish, crying out in pain. Wanda paced back in forth in the cell. A younger version of me was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, looking at the floor and avoiding looking at Pietro. By the looks of it, I was close to tears. I was, maybe, fourteen? I couldn't be sure. I couldn't remember this exact moment, it happened many times throughout my time in the H.Y.D.R.A. base.

"Do you trust the man?" Wanda persisted, looking around fretfully, as if people were going to barge in on us.

"If you're trying to be aware by looking around constantly, like there's an attack on every side, it isn't doing anything," I- my younger self- said in a disapproving tone, "Just come over here and lower your voice." My younger self's eyes flashed with concern as they darted to Pietro, who was groaning and writhing on the floor. I remembered this moment briefly as I continued to watch it. Although I was used to seeing him and Wanda in different shades of pain, it still hurt to see it. Fourteen year old Crimson looked away from Pietro, trying to hide the evident pain that watching him caused her. Even now, after everything, watching him twist in agony on the cell floor made my heart stop and made me break out in a cold sweat. I shook off the thought and glanced back at Wanda and myself.

I got closer to Wanda, and picked up their conversation. "Truthfully, though, do you trust him?" She asked in a low tone, gripping the fourteen year old me's arm.

"No, but he's our only chance," I said quietly.

"I don't trust him," Wanda said bluntly.

"We have to try," She insisted. This was so strange, watching myself.

"You're sure he has a plan for all of us to escape?" Wanda said worriedly, her eyes filling with fear. This was so surreal. I hadn't seen Wanda so scared for.... Well, for a long time. "I can't leave Pietro, or you, for that matter."

"I wouldn't want it any other way,"

Wanda's wide eyes calmed slightly, but she still seemed wary. My past self hugged Wanda tightly, and a mix of guilt and sadness crashed over me. When was the last time I'd been on hugging terms with Wanda? As Wanda and the fourteen-year old me scrambled over to comfort Pietro, still suffering from the experiments, I heard someone calling my name.

"Eve?" Somebody was shaking me. I felt woozy, still half-asleep. Who was Eve? Oh, me.

"What?" I managed half-heartedly, my body pulling me back down to the ground. Sleep...

"Listen," Pietro instructed urgently. My eyes fluttered open to the darkness. Voices. Indistinguishable, distant, but audible voices.

"That's great!" I exclaimed, feeling slightly delirious. I did just wake up, after all.

"I don't want you passing out again, so don't read their thoughts," Pietro said sensibly, "They'v been talking for quite some time. But I don't know if we can trust them quite yet."

"How long was I out?" I said uncertainly.

"Well, I don't exactly have a watch. But it was quite a while." Pietro said slowly.

"Oh."

The voices were like murmurs in the distance. I couldn't even be sure they were voices, at this point. They were just unintelligible sounds that resembled a low conversation.

"Should we risk calling to them?" I asked hesitantly, then didn't wait for an answer, "You know what, yes. We're gonna die anyway. If it's Wanda, she'll leave us here. If it's not, we get rescued. That's it."

"I don't know," He replied warily.

"It'll be fine," I insisted.

He seemed like he wanted to protest, but nonetheless, he yelled at the top of his lungs, "Hey! If you're looking for us, we're down here!" He was loud, practically crushing my ears. My head drummed in a light pain, but it wasn't bad.