Scarlett Johansson | One-Shots (2)

NR - Death Row Pt. 1

Callie:
"Down on your knees! Get down!"

I do as I'm told, slowly getting down on the ground.

"Hands behind your head!"

I interlock my fingers behind my head.

As my hands are being cuffed, I look around me at all the people watching. "Don't forget the special toy made just for me, boys."

The officers are silent as they snap on the temporary collar around my neck. With my hands behind my back and the collar turned on, I'm lifted and shoved into the back of a heavy Humvee and driven somewhere far.

-

When we arrive at the prison, I realize it's just a normal prison. "What're we doing here? You run out of super prisons when you locked up all my friends?" I mock.

"Shut it, inmate."

I'm dragged out by the chain that wraps around my ankles, waist, and wrists. I'm walked through the prison where there are so many other criminals. Everyone looks at me like I'm just new meat. I smile at them.

I'm pulled into a separate room. I assume it's the warden's office.

"Sit."

I obey and sit across from a big man. As he leans forward, the leather chair squeaks from under him. He flips through a manila folder. I see my picture.

"Calliope Dudnikov."

I take a deep, annoyed breath. "Atwood."

"Excuse me?"

"It's Atwood."

"Is it? Daughter of–"

"I haven't gone by that name in years. I go by Atwood now."

The big man huffs. "Fine. Calliope Atwood. An Avenger. Or was an Avenger, they're no longer standing. Caught doing whatever you were doing in Wyoming. Smart of you to go to a state no one really thinks about. Pretty off the grid. Let's review your special abilities, shall we?"

He flips over a paper. He looks over it for a few seconds. "A lot of molecular mumbo jumbo. None of it really matters here. Your friend, the Secretary of State, provided us with some tools to prevent your usage of these abilities. Enough of this."

He closes the folder and looks at me. "Let's just get you in prison. You've been given the death sentence. But first, enjoy your few years. Get her processed."

I'm pulled out of the chair and dragged through processing. The prison takes everything, obviously. They give me a red uniform and shove me into a cell. In medical, they gave me a chip on my neck that looks scarily similar to what Thor got when he was trapped on Sakaar. It stops all my wisp powers, but it can't do anything for strength, hearing, or speed. The door slides shut loudly behind me.

"The name's Nico. Was told I'd be getting a new roomie. What's ya name, kid?"

"Callie."

He sits up from lying on his bed on the bottom bunk. "What's with da thing on ya neck? Got some sort of disease or somethin'?"

I smile genuinely for the first time since I've arrived. "No. It's actually to contain my powers."

He scoffs. "Powers? Yeah, right. They doesn't send super-people here."

"They do now."

His face changes to something more curious. "Aight, aight. Well, you da top bunk. Ya stuff goes in da top drawer. Da drawers only come out so far, so don't think about killin' me or you wit it. Lunch is in a few minutes, hope ya hungry."

I put what little I have in the top drawer of the little nightstand. When our cell door opens, I follow Nico down the hall to a large room with round tables.

"Pretty much, we allowed to do what we want. No startin' fights or anythin'. Just sit, eat, and keep ya head down. Stick wit me and you'll be fine."

I shadow Nico for the rest of the day just to get a feel for how the prison setting works. Before I know it, it's time for bed. I find myself almost excited about it. I lay down on my uncomfortable bed and lay under my blanket. It's not a bad blanket, it's actually pretty fluffy and warm.

The next morning, I'm woken up by Nico in my face telling me to get up and stand around while guards do their rounds or whatever. They count us off a few times and then we're free to do whatever we want. Before I have a chance to do anything, a guard comes into the room.

"Atwood. You have a visitor."

"Who?" I ask.

He just shrugs so I follow him to the visitation room. There is divider between us and the visitors that spans the whole room. When I sit at one of the stations, staring back at me is one of my friends. I lift a phone to my ear.

"Good to see you're alive," Tony greets me.

"I wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you."

"Me?" He scoffs. "I didn't write the Accords, Cal."

"No, but you signed the papers that made me a criminal for helping people."

"Can we just put that aside for a second?"

"No. Why are you even here?"

"I wanted to check up on you."

"Bullshit. If you cared, you'd get me out of here."

"I can't do that. I won't."

"You won't, Tony? I'm on death row! I only have so long until they decide they're going to kill me."

The color in his face slips away. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, Stark."

"You're on death row?"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Callie, I had no idea they'd put you on death row. I didn't know that was even allowed for–"

"Criminals? Weapons? What?"

"Avengers. I thought they'd send you to the Raft or something. I never thought they'd put you somewhere where the death sentence is a viable option. If I knew that, I never would have signed those papers."

That alone tells me that he's being serious. He had no idea. I lean forward. "So get me out."

"I can't buy your freedom or override anything. Not when it's this serious."

"I'm not talking about buying me out."

His eyes squint for a second then fill with realization. "You do know what you just asked of me."

"If you don't, I die here."

Tony drops his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Be good. Be a model prisoner. Don't draw attention to yourself. I'll be back as soon as I have something."

"Like what?"

"A plan."

He stands. As he gets up and goes to put the phone back, I say, "Wait Tony." He puts the phone back to his ear. "Don't let me die here."

"I won't."