Bruce P.O.V
All I can think of as I hold Callie in my arms is how tiny she is. If I didn't know otherwise, I would have assumed she was a small three-year-old, not five. It just speaks into the level of neglect and malnourishment she has endured, and I suddenly find myself agreeing with Tony Stark. This little girl needs us.
We've finally made our way to the car, Tony basically lit the house on fire; normally I'd say he went overboard, but in this case--good riddance. Fury's crew will arrive shortly to clean up any mess left over, I silently hope that this is the last we see of this part of Callie's life.
I slide into the back seat, Callie still in my arms, and wait for Tony to de-ironman so we can get going.
I watch him shoot one last blast at the already inflamed building, causing the patio to collapse entirely, and then finally allow the suit to remove itself from his body. Tony climbs into the driver's seat, starting the ignition he turns back saying, "I think that went rather well, don't you?"
I roll my eyes at him, "We need to get going so she can get cleaned up, and so that I can give her medical attention." I reply, glancing down at the small child with her face buried in my chest. At the sound of my voice, she pulls her head off my chest only to quickly pinch her eyes closed and cover them with her hand. After spending years in a dark room the light of day is likely blinding to her.
Slowly as she becomes accustomed to the light she moves her hand from her face and her eyes blink open, revealing crystal blue irises that I hadnt noticed in the darkness of the basement. Aside from those icey blue eyes I can't see much of her face as it is so swollen and covered with blood, dirt, and God knows what else. In fact, her entire body is filthy.
She's wearing an old T-shirt that is so large it drapes off her thin, boney shoulder, and hang down below her knees.My eyes find their way back to Callie's cool blue ones to discover that her face is one of utter disbelief. Her mouth is hanging open in awe as we begin to move down the road. It dawns on me that she likely has no memory of being in a car before.
The majority of the drive is spent in silence. Callie keeps her eyes glued out the window, gawking at the moving scenery around us. Tony occasionally pointing things out to the little girl as we make our way to the jet.
Before I know it, Tony has parked the vehicle and is opening my door. He lifts Callie out of my arms and says, "Hey kid, come see Daddy."
Leaving me stunned in my seat.
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