Held Down

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Jay wakes up slowly this time. No rush of adrenaline to her system, no sudden jolt straight into a fight. She lets it happen; feels the muscles slowly lengthen and twitch, ready for a new day. She wants desperately to stretch her whole body long to get all the kinks out of her sore body. Her muscles still feel tense but much less so than before. She wonders how long she slept.

Her eyes open last as she surrenders to her body. The long muscles of her back elongate deliciously and she feels good for once, not all tense and wired up. She blinks a couple of times to adjust her eyes to the fluorescent bulbs above her head. She arches her back to crack her vertebrae and shoulder blades. She probably looks like a satisfied, sleepy lion on the savanna, just like she saw on that show the one time she watched TV.

She spots Steve sitting on a chair next to her cot, feet propped up on a stool, newspaper held loosely in his hands. He acknowledges her with a nod and a knowing smile as she sits up and pops her arms around in circles to loosen them up. She scrubs sleep from her eyes as he turns the paper and resituates the paper with a shake of the thin pages. "Sleep well?" he asks, sounding purposely disinterested. She cocks her head to the side and regards him.

"How long did it take me out for?" she asks. Right to the point, Steve's thoughts ripple across her. Jay is honestly just happy that she can hear his thoughts again. As much as she doesn't care for reading minds, it's comforting to know the drug didn't change her permanently. As much as she doesn't want this curse of an ability, it's been with her for a long time and it helps to know the scientists hadn't managed to find a way to eradicate it from her completely.

"About a day and a half," Steve says and watches her to gauge her reaction. She doesn't give anything away. So Tony was right, she's far more guarded with her emotions and responses now that she's rested. Her eyes look clearer too, not the bright color he'd seen when she fought or was riding on adrenaline, but a clarity that shows she's at full capacity of her thoughts and actions. He's seen her react on instinct and wonders with trepidation what it will be like to interact with her when she's in full health, intelligence at max.

"Guess it was a good dose then?" She says with a small amount of bite, easing a crick out of her neck with practiced movements. Steve folds the paper and sets it down on the small table next to her bed.

"I suppose it was," he answers, noncommittally. She notices his tone; he can tell just by the way she moves her head. He's realized that she has a way of moving her head that indicates when she's thinking or noticing something that maybe the rest of them aren't, like she hears something they can't.

"You're thinking hard, Captain," she snorts, "I can see the smoke pouring from your ears in waves. Like a great bellows." She idly pulls at the loose wrist restraints. "Any chance I'm going to get out of here soon?"

Steve sighs and runs a finger through his rumpled sandy hair. "Fury called Stark this morning to say he'd send Agent Barton over to pick you up tonight. Seems the Director found some way to talk to Warren Biochemical. Their only terms are that you are present." Steve watches her carefully as he says this. Her eyes widen and her breathing rate speeds up just slightly, but enough for him to notice, especially since he's been watching the screen's readouts of her vital signs on and off for the past day or so. It's been interesting to see how her brainwaves have increased in activity as the drug wore off and she woke up.

"So he's turning me over," she says, her voice flat.

"No, not necessarily," Steve says quietly. She looks at him with questioning eyes. "Fury is invested in Warren Biochemical for reasons he has yet to reveal and he wants you on his side in a deal with them-"

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