Broken And Bruised. ( Avengers Adopt)

That Gloomy Hospital Door.

*CRASH* my head hit the wall. A warm wet feeling started going down my face. I could barely see, I touched the wetness on my face.
my hand was so shaky and so weak I could barely lift it. I was staring at my hand, trying to focus. it took me a while to finally see, to finally see that it was blood, I was bleeding from my head.

*third person POV*

clay was thrown across the room, she hit her head.
blood began to gush from a wound at the hairline. A man, not slim, but not heavy walked toward her " The school called" he grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her up "argh" he looked her in the eyes " they said you didn't show up!" he backhanded her, breaking the skin on her lip, making it bleed.
she fell on her side, he walked to her, and bent down " where the hell was you." he asks, calmly, chillingly calm. she looked at him" I, I...nowhere." she stated, knowing that she would only be beaten harder. He looked At her, smiled, and stood up" is that right?" he said towering over her with a smirk, she shook her head yes. He arched his leg backward. And swung it forward hitting her stomach, making her cease breath.
He began to rapidly kick her, making her slowly pass out. Blood began to slip from her lips, and rips began to crack. Her lung began to fill with blood.
Just as her vision blurred to white.

*BOOM* the door is flung to the wall, held there by a silk white web.
A man in a red and blue suit emerged from the door.
He runs toward the man, at full speed.
So fast he could nearly break the sound barrier. He jumps up in the air, kicking him 'ninja style' as he would call it.
The man, now breathless on the floor.
The man in the suit walked towards the girl, laying almost lifeless on the floor. He dropped to his knees " Karen! Call 911, and Mr. Stark!" he said picking the girl up bridal style.
The girl's abuser picked up "she deserved it. She made me do it. It's her fault." he answered.
The man stopped, and turned around " you'll get what coming to you. " he added, his feet echoing through the villains nearly hairless head.

*clays POV*
It hurts, everything.
My head, pounds as if it was a home being put together.
My rips, feel as though if I tore them out, it would feel better.
My legs, so tired, so weak that I am doubtful to ever walk again.
All I can think is, someone saved me.
I was sure he was going to kill me, I was sure I was going to die.

My brain began to sense things, things like the light that was shining on me. Places on my body that I couldn't feel.
The air that was being added to the lungs of people in the room.

What, can I feel? I questioned myself.
I scrunched my toes in. Thank god, they move. I thought to myself.
What about my fingers? I said, putting in all the effort I could spare. Only one handset of the finger moved. Shit!
I don't even know if my arm is still there.
"Okay. Ready?" a voice, a familiar voice, Deeply said.
I felt one person push me up, I know what's happening, but I can't react! Why the hell can't I!
" as ready as ever," an unfamiliar voice said.

*third persons POV*
A lifeless clay laid in a hospital gown.
Two men, with white coats, edged to her bedside "ready?" he asks eagerly as if he'd win a prize afterward.
The man who stood on the opposite of the younger man sighed " you know, this isn't supposed to be something done fastly." he said, scratching the scruff on his chin.
"Yeah, but, do you hear who brought her in?" he leaned in, and whispered "Spider-man." the white cloaked man rolled his eyes " let me guess, you still play with dolls too?" he leaned back, scuffing at what his Superior had said. He rolled his eyes, he's, young eyes.
"Whatever, Dr. Steam" he stood taller in an attempt to seem as graceful, and powerful as Dr. Steam. Dr. Stream shook his head " okay, Ownes, grab her arm. Or did you forget, whilst you we're 'fangirling' " he said, mockingly.
Ownes rolled his eyes, again. But got into position. Dr. Stream stood behind clay. Firstly, Dr. Steam held clay up, lightly from behind. And Ownes pushed her arm back into place.

An hour forty-three minutes, and fifty-nine seconds had passed. A young man sat quietly aside of clay.
The whoosh of a book's paper being turned, drowned out the noise of the machines beeping and dinging.
A book promptly sat up in front of a brown-haired man.' The science of molecular Construction' it didn't settle, in the minds of passing doctors and nurses, someone that young, to be reading something so boring? Or rather confusing.

*clays POV*
What happened to those voices? I swear, they were...real.
My eyes were less heavy this time, I could actually open them if I wished

* Third person*
Clays eyes slowly lifted, still heavy. But they lifted all the same.
She groaned in discomfort.
Peter jumped up, and ran to her bedside.
"Clay, hey," he said softly like he was talking to a child.
She scoffed, trying to sit up straight.
A painful moan came out of her pale lips. He looked down, he didn't know how to help her. But she didn't want any help. Any at all. She pushed Peter away "god, I'm not some helpless little girl. Parker. "
She said his name with sarcasm. He looked down at his black vans. And scoffed "you know, for once you don't have to pretend." she rolled her eyes "pretend?" she asked, Annoyed. He nodded "yeah, pretend... Pretend that you're not afraid, that you aren't scared of him coming through those doors." he pointed at the white door. She laid back " what of it. What does it have to do with you, parker" she said his name with annoyance. He was getting irritated. he turned his body, now he was facing the door. He lifted his right foot and began to walk. A few inches from that gloomy hospital door, he stopped. And turned towards clay " You know something, killies." he said mockingly. She scoffed " what." she said, bringing out her best Queens street side. He smiled " no matter how mean, or cruel you wanna be. One day, you'll know that I am on your team. And I'll always, always protect you." They stared into each other's eyes, her eyes being as dark and dull as titanic's deck, as it sank into its watery grave. Which soon was where her walls would be.
His eyes, glossed with passion. Threw poor clay off of balance. She looked away in a haste. She chuckled nervously " god, Parker,  do you have to be so cheesy." she was winded, which made him feel, good. A weird good. But good none the less.

                  *clays POV*
Peter, I mean, Parker, left. I don't know what he's planning. But you can bet its something.. Regardless, I want to trust him. Really I do. And for me, that's saying something. I hate trusting.  I hate how weak it makes you. It's a horrible thing, trust. It's like a deadly disease, and everyone has it. And everyone wants it. They carve it. Like sex, and drugs. Its needed, for them to live a normal life. But for me, I've been broken too badly, I can now see how deadly trust is. But, I fear I have begun to catch this horrid feeling. And I hate it. What gives Parker the right. He doesn't know what happened to me, he doesn't know how much I hate myself. Truly, once he knew, he'd buy his first plane ticket to, anywhere but here express... He's an idiot, an adorable dumb ass.
I'm tired, and I am scared. Now that Peter, I mean parker, isn't here I feel like I'm unprotected.
Dear god, what has happened to me. I rely on him. Fuck.

       *Third person POV*
Clay tipped toed into sleep.
A night passed, nurses in perfect white, blue, purple, grey, pink, black, came in and out. Amazed at the girl who was brought in by spider-man.

The following day. A sandy blonde man had signed in "Steve Rogers" next another line read "seeing: killies, clay." he forced a wink and a smile out, making a nurse almost fall over.
"Room 335. Room 335" he said, over, and over again. Trying to find her room. A doctor stopped " sir did I hear you correctly? Room 335?" he asked kindly. Steve nodded yes "oh well, that is right." he made his 'right' trail on forever. Until it finally came to a halt " there" he said pointing at a white door. With a certain gloom or sadness to it "thank you." he swayed "sure thing" the doctor quickly scurried away. 
Steve quietly walked into room 335. The room was dark and depressing. Clay is laying in a hospital bed. He went to her bedside. He saw she was asleep soundly. He thought not to impose. And left quickly.
As he was walking out, he saw one of Tony's books. "The science of molecular construction" sitting on a chair. He picked it up "Peter." he said with a chuckle.

The following day, clay was sat up. Watching the news on a small flat screen tv propped up in the corner. Twitting with her thumbs, being bored out of her mind, as well as being spaced out. Clay could only think about, Peter. Which slightly made her edgy. She stopped relying on people when she was eight.
This just didn't feel right.

AUTHOR NOTE~ oh my thor, I am sorry. I just went through and correct some of my errors. I am very sorry. I realize I am not a very good storytelling, I tend to make things dark. I am truly thankful. and don't worry, it'll get lighter. THANK YOU SO MUCH!