Away We Go. (Avengers Fan Fiction)

Chapter 6

Main Character's P.O.V

These lights...

They were too. freaking. bright. 

I blinked slowly to get my eyes adjusted to the harshness, but when my vision cleared, I immediately wished for my hazy sight once again.

A surgical light fixture glared down at me, it's metal framing mocking my fears that were starting to surface. A cry of hysteria bubbled up and past my lips and I sat up straight, cringing when my arm was tugged back by a wire. My eyes widened as I realized it was an IV. 

"No, no, no," I muttered under my breath as I hurriedly tore it off, a thin trail of blood spurting from the minuscule wound. I scoured the room for an exit, only to find a rectangular seam in the far wall next to a panoramic window. 

I began to hyperventilate, fighting to stay in the present; to not let the memories overwhelm me. This was a battle I was quickly losing. 

"Run, dammit! Go!" Roland shouted, pushing me towards the trees. 

"No! I can fight them with you, Ro! I'm strong enough," I snapped back, but I could barely be heard above the sound of the planes blades as they whirled round. 

"No. You're going to keep yourself safe. Please," he begged, pulling me into his chest. He held me tightly for a minute, though it felt like it had merely been a millisecond. When he finally released me and sprinted away, I knew that the goodbye had not lasted long enough. 

"Hey!" a voice shouted, and with a start I was launched back into reality, to find tears streaming from my eyes. I did not hesitate before moving to attack the source of the voice. Whoever's face it was, was blurring with the tears and the memories the men who had dragged Roland away. 

"Calm down!" the voice ordered, and I registered that it was indeed male which did nothing for my current state of mind. I aimed a punch at their head but it was easily blocked and my arm was twisted behind me, but not painfully so. Whoever was trying to immobilize me was trying to be gentle. 

I thrashed in the grip, kicking my legs back, but could do nothing when I was lifted from the table. 

Almost instantly my muscles locked into place and I went as stiff as a board, my breath caught in my lungs. 

"Ro!" I screamed, debating whether or not to run and help him. He couldn't take on those many men at once, especially without his bending. 

He was swinging his fists left and right, biting whomever was within reach. But finally, one of the agents had had enough. In one foul swoop he had lifted Ro above his head, then just as swiftly, brought him down onto a bent knee.

I could hear the sickening crack from where I stood, the sound replaying over and over and over again. The bark beneath my fingers dug into the palms of my hands as it splintered under my death grip. 

I waited for what felt like years, hoping, watching– but Roland did not move.

The man holding me seemed to be confused by my sudden lack of motion, but nonetheless lowered me back down onto the metal table. I slammed my eyes shut, leaning over my legs that dangled off the side. 

I fought to try and slow my racing heart and to stop the shaking that had just developed in my hands. 

"Are you alright?" the man asked, and I nodded, sitting up slowly. Before me stood the star spangled man from outside. He wore the same confused expression, and I was briefly reminded of Roland, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the way his dimples showed when his mouth tugged down into a frown. This was something I did not like.

"Are you sure?" he asked, watching me warily. 

"Yes," I rasped, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. 

It was silent after that, each of us zoning out into our own little worlds. 

"You're not a killer... are you?" he asked, startling me. I glared up at him, the ice in my gaze making him quickly break eye contact. 

"I don't particularly like harming people, but I will if I have to," I threatened, placing extra emphasis on the second part of the sentence. 

"Understood," he coughed, fiddling with the spot where his t-shirt met the front of his neck. This was the first time I noticed his colorful suit was gone, along with the shield. 

I didn't broach the subject, though. It wasn't something I needed to know.  

"Oh! You're up! What happened?" a woman exclaimed, and I immediately recognized her as the woman from the training room. 

"I overreacted a bit," I admitted, as she cautiously came to stand beside me.

I was suspicious of the close proximity, seeing as the last time I'd ran into her she had tried to send a round of lead through my brain.

"I guess I overreacted a bit too," she apologized, noticing my distrustful expression. 

I briefly looked down and with a shock I realized that these weren't my clothes– not by a long shot. They were all white and a tad itchy. 

"Where are my clothes?" I asked, picking at the white shirt with a grimace.

"In holding. We have some other clothes around, though. Do you want to borrow those?" she asked, and in the way she said it, I knew that it was either take the borrowed clothes or these paper sheets that dare call themselves garments.

"Sure," I acceded, and she motioned toward the door, but stopped right before typing in a passcode to unlock it. 

"Don't try and run again, alright? We're here to help you, not hurt you. You have to promise," she stated, fixing me to the spot with a stern stare.

I heaved a sigh and looked up at the ceiling as if it held that answers to all of my problems. Promises meant nothing to me but in this one instance I wouldn't be leaving this room without giving one.

"Alright. I promise," I said, and the heavy block of nervousness settled into the pit of my stomach. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to regret my decision.