The Sapphire Spirit | Book One~Captain America: Civil War

C H A P T E R 7

"That's a pretty name," Arrow Guy said kindly. I looked at him, giving a slight smile. "Name's Clint Barton. Hawkeye."

"Steve Rogers, Captain America."

"Thor, god of thunder, protector of Midgard, Odinson."

I eyed Gold-Titanium Alloy. "And you are?"

He smirked. "And I... am... Iron Man." He said dramatically. I stared at him blankly.

"Shouldn't you be 'Gold-Titanium Alloy' Man?" I asked. "Cause you're suit's not made of iron, that's for sure."

He looked at me. "How'd you know what my suit was made of?"

I shrugged. "I also have enhanced senses. I have, like, microscopic vision. I could see the particles in your suit. Au for gold and Ti 4 for titanium." I gave him a look. "What's your real name?"

"Tony Stark."

I looked at him. "It's nice to meet you," I looked at the rest of the team... well, about as well as someone could when they're secured to a bed. "It's nice to meet you all."

"Okay, let's get started with the check-up," Bruce announced from the medical table. The rest of the Avengers found a seat like Natasha or leaned against the wall. I lay still as Bruce came over to me, holding a small, rectangular box. Holding the box, he swept his hand over my body, the box making various beeping noises. When he was done, he set the device down on the table next to me.

"FRIDAY, give us an x-ray and vitals." Tony said to the box. A hologram of my skeleton appeared, along with vitals signs on the sides.

"It appears Miss Adler has a few minor injuries, nothing life threatening," a robotic female voice said. It took me a few seconds to realize it was coming from the box. "A few broken ribs, a cracked wrist, and a fractured ankle. She also appears to have a mild concussion, nothing severe."

Tony and Bruce stared thoughtfully at the hologram, deciding what to do.

"You can fix her, right?" Thor asked Bruce. The doctor sighed.

"Yeah, I can fix her. It's take a while, maybe a few weeks, but there's something I don't understand." He said, turning to me. "How is the bullet wound already healed? We have a few theories, but I'd like to hear it from you."

I bit my lip. "I also have accelerated healing. My ribs, wrist, ankle, and skull should heal within the next twenty-four hours, two days at the most. I'll be fine."

"I thought as much," Tony said smugly."

Bruce stared at me with uncertainty. "Okay," he shrugged, heading to write down important notes in the file.

I let out a sigh of relief when he passed by the tray full of needles, ignoring them. As he finished jotting down whatever he needed to, he turn his attention to the table with all the medical equipment.

Please don't give me a shot, please don't give me a shot, please don't give me a shot, I repeated in my head. Of course, he grabbed a needle off the counter, adding in the... whatever they were planning on injecting me with.

Bruce walked to my side, needle in hand. He undid the straps securing me to the table and helped me into a sitting position. He then proceeded to wipe my shoulder with antiseptic. I watched him warily, my eyes never leaving the needle in his hand. Just as he was about to position the needle, I started shaking violently. My body racked with tremors, flashback after flashback speeding through my mind.

"You okay?" Bruce asked, stopping. The other Avengers looked on with worry.

"Before I'm injected with a needle, am I allowed to ask what is in said needle?" I asked.

"Bruce and I were working on a few special concoctions while you were out," Tony explained. "This one is designed to accelerate your healing process."

"B-But I told you, I already have accelerated healing. I just need a few hours and I'll be good."

Clint spoke up. "Sorry kiddo, but Fury wants that power inhibitor on until he sees fit."

I was starting to panic; Were they going to turn me in for government experiments? Who was this Fury? Who did he work for? Were they any better than HYDRA? I was shaking even more, if possible, and felt myself warm up. My breaths were fast and shallow, and I sounded on the verge on hyperventilating.

"So I can't leave?" I asked, stalling for time. I curled my knees up to my chest, drawing them in my arms. Inconspicuously, I reached down to my ankle, playing with the lock in the cuff. I slid a bobby pin out from my sleeve, using one hand to fiddle with it. After I finished tweaking the bobby pin, I inserted it into the lock, hoping it would click.

It clicked.

Trying to keep suspicion off me, I continued talking.

"You said you wouldn't hurt me," I said, trying to guilt trip them. "You said you would protect me, not hand me over to the government." I put my head on my knees, pretending to cry. I felt a hand on my shoulders, trying to comfort me.

That was all I needed.

I grabbed Bruce's arm, judo-flipping him away from me. He hit the other wall, unconscious. 

My conscience was screaming at me. Seriously? Don't you ever think first?

What do you mean?

You just threw the guy who turns into the Hulk into a wall. That's suicide.

Shut up.

In one swift movement I had taken off the cuff, throwing it away from me in disgust. I sighed with relief as I felt the familiar energy surging through me. I was already out the door and running down the hallway before anyone could properly process what was going on.

Only when I was a few meters from the elevator did I hear the first yells: "Someone get her!"

I ran like the devil was chasing me.