Haven [Marvel | Bucky Barnes]

Chapter 21

The alarms still rang through the air around her and distantly Iris could hear the sounds of movement from those James had left battered and bruised in his wake. On the table behind her the redhead—she had to be Black Widow; Natasha Romanoff—was coughing and gasping as she regained her breath. Iris barely noticed.

She had failed. She hadn't been able to help James at all. She didn't know where she'd gotten the idea in her head that she'd be able to get through to him, but it had been definitively proven wrong. Iris choked back bitter tears, clenching her eyelids shut to hold back the ones that had already begun to sting the corners of her eyes. She hadn't believed him when he said that, when under their control, he'd do anything they ordered...even hurt her. She'd refused to believe him. Well, without even looking at her, he'd just thrown her into a glass wall.

She couldn't help but believe him now.

He hadn't even recognized her.

Her jaw muscles tightened to hold back the gasping sob that tried to lurch out of her chest, her teeth aching from the effort. A spasm of pain crawled beneath her shoulder blade, the ache from slamming into the glass wall spreading across her back as her chest constricted with the effort of holding in her sudden welling of despair and humiliation.

It was the approaching sound of feet slowing from an anxious jog and the murmur of a familiar voice that finally managed to pull Iris out of her spiraling misery. Forcing back her self-pity, Iris pulled herself up so she was nearly sitting again, unable to help the pained groan at the way her abused body complained at the movement. Forcing in a deep breath to try and shunt the aches aside and ignore the stiffness trying to set in across her legs and back, she somehow managed to prop herself up on her feet, gingerly leaning against a convenient chair.

"Iris?" Her head snapped up at the sound of her name. She immediately regretted the abrupt motion, though, as her surroundings seemed to tip and wobble for a moment while the ache on the back of her head throbbed. A steadying hand closed around her arm as she reached back to probe around the back of her head. Though painfully tender, when she drew her fingers back they were thankfully clean. She was going to have a nasty goose-egg in the near future, though. In a heartbeat the wobbling sensation was gone, and she was able to focus on the concerned and bewildered face looking down at her.

"Iris, what are you doing here," Sam demanded, an edge to his voice that Iris belatedly realized was worry heaped upon frustration heaped upon stress. She blinked up at him, not knowing at first what to say that wouldn't sound completely foolish. Shame at how reckless she'd been bubbled up in her again at the incredulous way he was staring at her, but she resolutely kept her mouth shut. Her whole body tensed under the weight of his scrutiny, leaning away from him as though it would ease the pressure. The movement, minute as it was, still managed to draw a wince from her as the ache seeping through her body flared. Her shoulder was the worst, the focal point as it were, and she knew she was going to have a heck of a bruise there. Sam frowned, concern shifting to outweigh his bewilderment. "Are you alright?" Iris managed a stilted nod, but Sam wasn't entirely convinced, repeating himself more firmly, "Iris, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she muttered bitterly, causing his eyebrows to rise with skepticism. Another groan sounded behind them, drawing both Iris and Sam's gazes to the redhead pulling herself up to a sitting position on the adjacent table. Shooting Iris a warning glance that all but shouted 'don't move,' Sam moved over to steady Black Widow as she shuffled off the table, hand massaging at her throat. Iris flinched involuntarily upon glimpsing the red, hand-shaped marks beginning to appear on the fair skin of the other woman's throat. Off behind them, Iris caught a glimpse of one of the JCTF agents—the blonde agent James had nearly shot—steadying a rather sore-looking Tony Stark before darting through the destroyed lunch bar's shattered divider to kneel beside the slowly recovering blonde woman who had fought James alongside Black Widow.