Avengers Generations

Chapter 29

Natasha woke up in a small grey room, strapped to a bed by harnesses too strong to break. She felt a huge throbbing from her heart to her head, like the blood was pumping double time through those veins. She could only remember bits and pieces of the last few hours, and even less of the last few years, but what she did remember was hazy and confusing, like memories of a dream.

There was a window on one wall of her room, and she could see through it if she craned her neck far enough. Raza was in an identical windowed room across the hall with a younger man neighboring him, both strapped to beds the same way she was.

She knew these rooms well - they had windows between them for multiple reasons. For one, S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors could keep an eye on all their patients as they went from room to room, but there was also a psychological level to it. All the patients could see the worst things that happened to their fellow prisoners.

The door of her room opened with a sweeping noise and a wheelchair rolled in. Natasha didn't recognize the man at first, but only because she had never seen him like he was.

"Hey there..." He said in the familiar, gentle voice - but she recognized the disbelief in his tone.

"Clint?" She blinked, with memories flooding back in confusing, painful ways "Are you real?"

Her husband laughed quietly. "I was thinking of asking you the same thing." He muttered "I thought you were dead..."

Natasha sat in quiet thought for a few moments. She couldn't remember what was memory and what was illusions - they were jumbled together in her mind, fighting against each other for dominance.

"How long has it been...?" She asked eventually.

"Eight years."

Her heart beat loudly in her chest, drumming out the numbers. "Eight years...?"

Clint rolled up next to her and nodded solemnly, gazing at her face with a longing expression. "Jake's nineteen now." He commented.

"...Jake?" She asked, carefully forming the name.

Clint blinked. "Jacob?" He said slowly "Your son?"

"My... son...?" She gasped "My son - Jake..." She nodded as the memories slowly trickled in. She remembered a boy... She vaguely remembered him playing as a baby, and she recalled fuzzy memories of teaching him gymnastics and other skills when he got older. But somehow, she couldn't picture his face.

She only heard half of what Clint was saying. He gently told her about their assignment together, and the Ten Rings, and about loosing his legs, but she couldn't see the memories clearly. She remembered all sorts of things that didn't fit in with what her husband was telling her, and she couldn't sort out her thoughts.

"You alright?" Clint asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I..." She tried to respond "I don't know..."

Charity walked quietly between her dad and Fenrir. The two men had insisted that she come to Raza's interrogation, but she didn't know why. Loki walked a few paces back, looking out of place and uncomfortable, and Director Fury led the group. Thor had been asked -told, actually- to stay behind. He was too "emotionally involved", Fury had said.

They walked through the halls without saying a word, and arrived outside Raza's room. Charity peered through the window, and her heart jumped a bit seeing the man lying there. Fenrir had told her what her dad had done, but seeing it was completely different.

Raza was strapped to a bed by his waist and ankles. There were harnesses for his wrists, but they were not being used - they would have done no good if they were. The man's arms ended at his forearms in bandaged stumps that were much too familiar to Charity. His expression was broken as he lay there, and he didn't even look up when Director Fury stepped into the room.

"I'm sure you realize," Fury sighed to the amputee after a minute "That we have the power to kill you." Charity stood with Fenrir at the window, watching the scene unfold. He father stood at the room's door, and Loki loomed behind them.

The man took a deep breath, and almost didn't answer. "If you wanted me dead, I already would be." He mumbled in his middle eastern accent "You want me to tell you where Hrimthurs has escaped to."

"That's right." Fury nodded demeaningly.

Raza didn't answer the looming question.

"I'm sure you realize..." Fury said, with a hint of annoyance "That we have the power to torture you."

Raza laughed without joy and held up his hands. "You mean allowing me to live like this?" He asked "An incomplete man?"

Charity felt her heart ache with the statement. She new his situation was worse than hers, but it still hurt to hear his words. Fenrir seemed to sense her bitterness, because he placed a protective hand around her waist and pulled her in gently.

"Sir, I need to know where Hrimthurs has taken Einmyria." Fury said firmly.

"Or?" Raza turned and looked in the director's eyes with a dull stare.

"Or..." Nick said, pulling a gun and holding the muzzle to the man's knee.

Fenrir turned Charity's face to his chest, not wanting her to see any more. Charity felt his fingers gently and comfortingly running through her short hair, and her heart sped up as she realized what Fury was implying. Still, Raza didn't cry out or beg - he remained silent.

"So I'll ask one more time." Fury said slowly "And I'll ask nicely. Where is Einmyria?"

Charity couldn't see his face, but with every heart beat she knew Fury was running out of patience. Raza didn't say anything, and she heard the faint click of a gun being cocked. Without pausing to think, she spun out of Fenrir's embrace and flew into the room, holding her half-hand out in front of her. She pushed Fury's arm away from the man, and at the same moment a huge blast shook the room.

"Look what you made me do!" Fury said, throwing his hands in the air and looking at the bullet hole in the floor.

Charity felt like she was about to cry. "I'm sorry..." She said, looking to Fury first, and turning next to Raza.

The man looked at her with an undecided eye, and his gaze slipped slowly down to her hands - or, lack thereof. "Charity..." He guessed.

"Yes." She said, quietly.

"Is this what the American movies call 'good cop/bad cop'?" He asked.

"Bad Cop is in the other room with a magic hammer and anger management problems." Fury informed him "You better hope to God this isn't good cop/bad cop."

Raza didn't respond. He just stared blankly like he had already decided to die, but couldn't convince his body to shut down. Charity remembered that feeling well.

Just then, she felt the comfort of five fingers on her shoulder, and looked up to see her dad smiling sadly at her. She didn't know her father well, and was still learning to read the unintentional hints of what he was thinking, but she saw a level if inner turmoil behind his smile as he looked at her lovingly. She looked deeper into his eyes, but he turned away and pulled gently.

"Come on." He said "We should leave."

Part of her wanted to argue that she may be able to reason with Raza, but the other part of her knew her dad always had his reasons. They stepped outside the room and she stood in front of the window again, gazing in next to Fenrir.

Her dad, still standing by the door, spoke in a low voice to Loki. The second man nodded solemnly, and Coulson signaled to Fury, who stepped out and also nodded after a few moments of whispering. Fury moved back into the room, followed by Loki, and Coulson closed the door. Fenrir looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure how to phrase it.

"Common, kids." Coulson said solemnly, motioning down the hall "I don't think you want to see this."

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