TOXIC ~ STEVE ROGERS [1]

Chapter Seven

My legs dangled off the edge of the table where I sat, shoes and socks thrown messily on the floor. My sleeves were rolled up in preparation for the inevitable tests I would have to endure. My hands were clasped tightly together, and I ran my eyes over the new rip in my already tattered jeans. In an attempt to distract myself, I drummed my fingers over the cold metal table, its clinical hardness stirring up old memories. I wanted to spend the least amount of time here as possible.I felt rumpled, dirty. My spine buzzed, and I grimaced, glancing up at the camera in the corner of the room. Who was watching me, I wonder? It was an uneasy feeling, one that was familiar to me but that didn't make it any better. Behind me, I heard the door slide open, and my head snapped back, curious. In strode a pretty brunette, her hair pulled back into a sharp bun, a white lab coat draped perfectly over her petite frame. She smiled at me when our eyes met, but I could see the shock in them, the realization. Behind her, balancing a tablet on a stack of paper, was a man with curly blonde hair and light stubble across his jaw. He mumbled to himself and walked past me to a desk across the room, while the woman approached me with caution, her smile tentative. "Are you Fitzsimmons?" I asked, straightening my spine not just to show confidence but to try and relieve the pressure I could feel in between my vertebrae. "Erm, I'm Fitz," the man in the corner said without looking up, his hand dangling in the air aimlessly while he tapped keys on the tablet with his other hand. "And I'm Simmons," the woman said, grinning. "Its easier if you just refer to us as one person." Her accent was British, and his Scottish, and they complimented each other even if they grated on my ears a little. "And you're, scientists?" I questioned, following Simmons with my eyes as she collected equipment from around the room. "I'm a biochemist. I specialize in life sciences," she explained, her pretty mouth smiling yet again. Was she always this happy? "Fitz is a weapons and technology engineer," she said, nodding at her distracted partner. "I understand why you're here, but why him?" I gestured to Fitz, who pretended not to hear me. Simmons swallowed nervously, but otherwise kept her composure. "We're a team. You can't have Simmons without Fitz," she said fondly. "Its sounds better the other way around. You can't have Fitz without Simmons," Fitz said from the corner. Simmons rolled her eyes. "Ignore him. He's in bad mood because he got dragged away from some project of his," Simmons winked, and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. The sound made me wince, and Simmons noticed. Fitz stood up and walked over. "I'm Keight, by the way," I said, trying to smile but I'm sure it came out more like a grimace. "We know," Fitz said, flicking a smile at Simmons, then looking back to his tablet. I looked down, guilt and nerves fluttering in my chest. "I'm going to do some tests, if that's alright," Simmons said, a syringe in hand. I shrugged. "It's fine. I don't have much of a choice," I muttered as Simmons cleaned the crook of my elbow with a wipe. She slowed, and cast a grave look at Fitz, who returned it. *** After blood tests, plasma tests, x-rays, MRI's and all sorts of the other medical procedures I can't remember the names of, we were finally finished. Fitz recorded everything down on his tablet, muttering to himself, while Simmons chattered happily to me as she worked. I hardly had to do a thing and staying quiet meant it was easier to hide. Until she saw the scars. "What are those?" She asked, her brow furrowing. My heart pounded. "What are what?" I said, trying to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about. But I could tell by her stare that she could see the tendrils of scars creeping over my neck and onto my collar bones beneath my shirt. I could tell she was afraid. "They're just scars. From an accident when I was a kid." I brushed it off, hoping she wouldn't pry any further. But she was SHIELD, and they loved to know everyone's business. Simmons pursed her lips. "What kind of accident? If it was anything that could help with the cause of your, abilities, we should know-" "Do you want to see them? Is that it?" I spat angrily, my spine pulsing. I got up from the table and pulled my shirt off forcefully, arms shaking. Simmons gasped. Fitz didn't say a word. They just stared."I was attacked by arms dealers just outside the border of Wakanda. They did this, and left me for dead." I gestured to the scars, long purplish white lines where the whip had seared into my flesh. I heard my own screams in my head, but I drowned them out with rage. "Are you satisfied?" "Um, yes," Simmons looked down, embarrassed. I pulled my shirt back on hastily, and my socks, followed by my shoes."Oh, uh, where are you going?" Simmons asked, as I stomped my way over to the door. I pressed the release button and looked back at her. "Anywhere but here." *** I was promptly escorted back to the lab shortly after I left, because apparently I was a 'security risk' and needed 'to stay in the compound as a matter of safety'. I couldn't say I didn't believe them. But it was highly embarrassing to be marched back into the lab, and after a brief 'hello' marched right back out and into a white room, with white walls and a white bed and white everything, and a door that locked behind me.Great, so I was in a cell now. My backpack was there, so that was good, but other than that I was alone with my thoughts, and a very comfortable looking bed. I sat down on the edge of it, rubbing my arm as goosebumps appeared along my pale skin. It was cold in there. But that wasn't what bothered me. I don't think it had quite hit me yet, the severity of my situation and it was then I realised what I had done. What I had lost.It was like a bullet to my abdomen, a hot ache in my ribs. This, this was what grief felt like, I think. Bri and Max's faces shimmered in my mind, for a moment then disappeared. I blinked and allowed three small tears to spill onto my cheek, then I wiped them away messily, smearing black across my face. I couldn't allow myself to be sad. But I knew, deep in my heart, there was very little chance of ever seeing them again. I breathed in, my lungs shaking, everything shaking in fact.I needed a drink. Whiskey, maybe. Something strong, that would burn my throat and make me forget. I sighed and looked around the room. Cameras in every corner, small, but visible. Or maybe only to me, I wasn't sure. There was a large, long rectangular window next to the white door, and people in lab coats and Kevlar constantly walked briskly past, sometimes taking a few seconds to peek in.Yeah, get a look at the freak while you can. I was so angry. It was a dry angry, a kind of anger that comes to the surface when you're done, you're over it. It was a trembling anger, where your muscles were taut, your eyes were wide, your head was clear. I wanted to punch something, to crush something between my fists, to use those powers of mine to destroy something and to feel nothing while I did it. There was vase on the table, with white, immaculate flowers in it.I picked it up, and I smashed it against the wall. I would not be sleeping tonight.

Authors Note
What do you think will happen? Keight's got secrets that she isn't willing to tell, Fury seems trustworthy, but is he?