Frostbite

Eighteen

Day 9

Sam was staring at me from across the room, and I just stared blankly back. After everything that had occurred over this last week, I wasn't sure I'd want to see my own reflection. There were cuts and bruises everywhere, I knew my lip was busted from a few days ago; I probably looked like the hell. That was probably why he was staring.

That, or because any minute now someone would be here to escort me down to the lab. They sure loved to stick to a schedule. Now that I thought about it, I was almost certain they were late, and it was unusually quiet. I shrugged it off and rolled onto my back. Not like it mattered when it happened, because it would- and that was that.

Clint had his back to us, and Scott was drumming incessantly on his knees. It had driven Clint crazy the first few days, but now he let Scott occupy himself without berating him. We had nothing else to distract us in these dreary cells.

Sam's head snapped up suddenly, and my head whipped to the side in response, my body locking up in fear and anticipation. I shot up to a sitting position, and my heart skipped a beat and I blinked repeatedly, suspecting I was imagining things. Maybe all the drugs were making me crazy.

Steve stood in the middle of our cell block, he was here, on the raft in the middle of the ocean. He and Sam shared a mischievous grin, and the other two finally noticed his presence. They looked as dumbfounded and shocked as I felt. How the hell had he gotten here? T'Challa instantly popped into my head. He had likely lent him a jet.

Steve pulled out a key and made his way around to each cell, quickly unlocking them to let the others out. He made his way to mine last and I heard him suck in a breath as his eyes landed on me. His jaw twitched as he unlocked my cell, and I knew he wanted to punch someone.

The door was finally open, but I couldn't move. I couldn't leave. He tried to step inside to help, but I flinched, slamming my eyes shut in anticipation of the shock.

"I can't," I managed to croak out, my voice hoarse from previous screaming.

"The collar," Clint muttered to him from behind. They were all waiting for me. They shouldn't have, they should have been getting the hell out before someone caught us. Steve didn't take his eyes off me but nodded. I hated him seeing me like this, I wanted to crawl under the blanket.

Natasha waltzed around the corner, startling everyone except Steve. I was relieved to see she hadn't been caught after breaking the accords to help Steve and Bucky get to the jet at the airport. A small ring of keys dangled from her hand, and she tossed them to Steve. How she had even known to grab those was unclear.

"What the hell happened to you? You look like shit." she observed, not unkindly. If I gave her names, I knew she'd go hunt each one down and pay them back tenfold, but I wouldn't talk about it. Sam shook his head to her, and Clint started whispering in her ear.

"Wanda is on level eight. One of the guards up there should have the other set for her," I said evenly, glancing away from them.

"Nat, you, Clint, and Scott go get her and meet us back at the jet," Steve instructed; they left without question. Sam backed away to keep watch. Steve took a step inside my cell. I froze, forcing myself to not bolt like a frightened deer.

"I'm just going to take all this off you. Then you'll be free," he told me softly, kneeling in front of me. He waited for my permission, and I finally nodded. My body shook as he handled the collar first, sure it would shock both of us at any moment.

At last, it clattered to the floor. I delicately touched my neck and sighed in relief. I could breathe easily again; I could move and speak without the constant fear literally hanging around my neck. He gently took each of my wrists and removed the cuffs, both of those falling to the ground as well. I gasped and snapped my eyes shut as a wave surged through my body, my magic singing inside me once again. The feeling was bliss, and I instantly felt much stronger.