The New Avenger: Taming The Beast

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟸: 𝙼𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜

[[Arielle P.O.V.]]

The chopper is filled with dead silence--at least from the mouths of those inside. Director Fury sits up front with the pilot, Bruce and I sitting in the back with another SHIELD Agent--who seems to be watching us very carefully. Bruce holds my hand tightly, his arm and hand pulled on top of my lap. I let out a deep sigh, my eyes glistening with forming tears as I think about Hannah. I sniffle ever so slightly, Bruce lets go of my hand and wraps his palm around my thigh comfortingly.

We get back to the Avengers compound without a word. Bruce asks me a few times if I'm all right, I lie, saying I'm just fine. Fury informs me they have Hannah's body in one of our preservative pods for now until I decide what I'd like to do. Her entire family is dead. At least those who were invited to the wedding. I can't help but feel like this is my fault. The guilt is overwhelming.

I walk to my room as Bruce heads to the lab for testing, dropping my soaked, dirty, and ripped dress to the floor. I put on an oversized shirt—one of Bruce's flannels. I slip on some pajama shorts, and I walk into my bathroom.

I look myself over, tracing my fingertips along the lines of the cuts and wounds. My eyes begin to fill with tears, that memory of Grant's hand pushing through Hannah's entire body throttles me, oozing through my shocked mind. I can't stop seeing it. I back away from the mirror, placing a hand over my mouth. I lean up against the wall, slowly dropping to the floor. I pull my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs as the tears flow like a river down my wounded cheeks. I sniffle, staying quiet. I wipe my eyes. This is my fault.

I sit there quietly, never wanting to move again. I can't move. I'm staying in this bathroom floor forever.

I hear my bedroom door creaking open, soft footsteps nearing me. Natasha stands in the doorway of the bathroom. "Hey miss A." She says softly in her hoarse voice. I look up at her, tears in my eyes. Her expression stares sympathetically. She walks over to me, dropping to the floor beside me. She wraps her arms around her legs like me, sitting close.

"It's all my fault, Nat. If I hadn't been there—." I begin but Nat stops me immediately.

"Don't do that Arielle. You know better than that. He was planning to kill them before he even knew you were coming. You and Bruce were just an added bonus." She says in disgust as she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She looks up at the ceiling. The lightbulb above us flickers a bit. "They need to change that lightbulb."

"I need to change lots of things." I sniffle, staring out into nothing. My eyes freeze.

Nat furrows her brows at me, "You're doing the best you can. If you or Tony or Bruce hadn't been there, there could have been zero survivors." She swallows thickly, pausing before she continues. "And you might not have even known Hannah was gone." She says softer, letting out a sigh. "Your presence did good. Not bad. Don't let him convince you to feel that way."

I look over at her for a moment, forcing a half smile as I give her thankful eyes. She smiles, grabbing one of my hands and squeezing it.

"Where is he?" I say in a more demanding tone rather than a questioning one. My expression changes to anger. I wipe the tears from under my eyes again.

"They have him locked up three floors down. They can't get much out of him, only what he wants us to know. He's trying to...rattle us. Cause fear and confusion. Good thing we're used to it." Nat says reassuringly. I take a deep breath, and then exhale. I shake my head, "I don't think I can get up for a while from this one, Nat." I cry, sniffling as tears fall from my eyes again. I shake my head, looking down. This time I actually cry, trying to catch my breath as I break. Nat moves closer to me, squeezing my hand tighter as she looks over at me comfortingly. "Then don't. Sit here for a while, take it in. Let it all out. I'll sit here with you until you feel like you can get up again." She sniffles as well as her eyes become glassy. She leans her head against mine.