a/n : GOOD MORNING BESTIES ENJOY!!!
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SPENCER HAS FOUGHT APPROXIMATELY 12 PEOPLE SO FAR.
She couldn't take another.
She didn't get it. How these people fought her even when she had them pinned to the ground, using her hulk strength to do so. Even when they were on the ground, they still struggled and fought. Unless they were unconscious, they wouldn't stop. It was terrifying. Spencer had seen so much blood.
She'd been given breaks. When the guards were done for the shift, they'd throw Spencer back into the cell. She was giving a loaf of stale bread and a can of molded beans, but besides that, nothing. She was tired. Hungry. Thirsty.
Spencer Rebecca Banner is angry.
It's the 13th person, Spencer is halfway through the fight. She can see the guy panting and she knew she was, too, but he wouldn't stop until he physically couldn't do it. Spencer just had to...please, you can do it, just one more time-
In the haze of her brain trying to tell her what to do, she hadn't noticed the knife the man slipped out of his pocket. She didn't see the way it glinted against the poor lighting of the room she was in until her opponent swiped it at her.
Spencer avoided it, but he saw this coming; he changed directions to where he knew Spencer would dodge, based on her patterns.
The knife sliced at her skin and Spencer screamed out. The area quickly turned green, but the damage was already done, and then just as she processed it, there was a sharp pain at her side.
Another cut, right at her hip so much deeper.
Spencer's pain and fear got the best of her, and her first flew out without hesitation, the force of the hit slamming the man to the ground. She was losing grip of the power behind her throw, and she couldn't take the chance that this guy woke up again. And he hurt her - look. She's bleeding.
He's on the ground. Spencer punched him. Again. Again. Again.
You can't risk it, you can't risk it, he deserves it, monster-
"Enough!" the commanding officer said, and Spencer pulled back. He assessed the bloodied shirt she was wearing. Spencer noticed it, too, but there was nothing left in her stomach to puke. "Save your energy," he advised her, as Spencer whipped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. "You have another opponent."
Spencer didn't even have it in her to argue. She pulled herself up by the ropes of the ring, her arms burning from the pain.
She didn't think about the next fight. She didn't think about the fight after that or the one after that. Spencer couldn't think ahead anymore - it made things unbearable.
The possibility of being saved didn't even occur to her.
The man climbing into the ring is different from Spencer's previous competition. He's bigger, for one, and he didn't even try to intimidate Spencer by staring her down. His eyes were locked to the ground, and he didn't walk, he marched - he was clearly a soldier.
Then, Spencer spotted the metal arm.
A cry crawled up her throat. It was over.
She knew this guy, she'd seen the pictures in Tony's research by accident, and he'd caught snippets of Natasha's phone conversations about a man called the Winter Soldier. She'd seen pictures of the metal arm and the crimson star.
This was him. This was an assassin in front of her.
She's going to die, now, and here.
So caught up, Spencer didn't even hear the commanding soldier call out to begin, and she only realized it was starting when the man
His eyes were so blue. They reminded Spencer of - she didn't remember. She was so tired, she couldn't even remember his name, she could see him but OhGodOhGodOh-
A hit landed on her stomach. Spencer fell back, the punch having so much force that Spencer didn't think it could have been human. It had to be... something else. She punched easier than that and she was...
He's an experiment.
Spencer's on the ground, and there's a kick to her head that sent her flying back, again. The commanding soldiers are yelling, presumably of Spencer. But she didn't have hope, anymore. She was tired. It had been days. She couldn't do this anymore.
He was punching at her face, and Spencer was making lame attempts to tilt her head to avoid it until she saw it.
On the hem of his shirt sleeve, she saw it.
There's a name, scribbled on the side, the rough material of the fabric cutting the letters off but Spencer can read it, anyway.
Steve Rogers
"Steve," she muttered, and the punch that was being held up with the metal arm didn't land. Spencer couldn't think, she just didn't want any more pain. "Steve Rogers, Steve, Steve-"
There's a hand around her throat. It's metal and it's cold. Spencer shivered at the contact. It's not hurting though, the hand isn't squeezing, it's just there. Hesitating.
His head was low enough that the other soldiers couldn't see his lips move. Spencer barely caught it, but the words from the gravelly voice are haunting enough.
"You know him?"
Spencer nodded, terrified.
"I know him," she wheezed out, her eyes matching the soldier's eyes again. "Please," she croaked. "Plea-se I ca-n't do it anymo-re."
There's a final punch to her head, and Spencer was out.
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AN ALARMING IS BLARING WHEN SPENCER CAME BACK TO CONSCIOUSNESS.
It had been six hours, but she didn't know that. Her vision and brain were hazy as she came to, and her eyelids felt heavy as she blinked.
The room came into focus. She was cuffed back to the cell wall. There was screaming and shouting in the distance, but Spencer didn't care much. She could feel sharp pains on her waist and arm - the cuts, she remembered. They were going to get infected like this, she thought, logically. But that was where the thought ended. She couldn't do anything about it.
Her head snapped up at the sound boots coming down the hall, and she was fighting against the restraints. She wasn't going to die here, helpless. Sleep gave her a bit of energy, and she thought maybe if she just tried -
The footsteps were getting louder. She could fight an officer. She could get shot, or whatever, but she's not sitting here-
The strength rushed through her veins, and finally, she was free. Relatively, free - she was free from the wall, and that was definitely the first step to freedom from here.
But when she looked up, Spencer realized she wasn't alone, and she wasn't going to have the chance to book it.
Steve Rogers was standing in front of her.
The traitor had the audacity to look relieved.
"Spencer," he called, his voice firm. He tugged at the door, but then realized it was locked, so he ended up tearing off the side of the cell, leaving the metal all mangled. His hand was outstretched to Spencer. "Come on, let's get you out of here-"
He didn't think she was that much of an idiot, did she? God, she idolized this man for her entire life. The perfect example of loyalty and strength and determination. He worked with her father. He betrayed everyone - Bruce, Tony, Natasha, Pietro-
"Don't touch me," she sneered at him, backing herself against the wall. She could see his expression shift. "He knew you," she spat out, scrambling to get away from Steve, who was watching her critically. "H-He knew you, you snake-"
"Spencer," Steve called, his eyes watching her carefully. "Who knew me?"
"You're a traitor!" she shouted, and when Steve took a step forward to calm her. Instead, Spencer recoiled and shot a punch to his face. Taking him by surprise, the punch landed.
"Listen, Spencer," he said, and the girl went for another punch, but her wrists were caught in his grip. She struggled against him. "This isn't my fault. I don't know what happened, but HYDRA lies-"
"He knew your name!" she cried out, her voice raw in pain. Her wrist pulled from his hold, and stumbled back, holding her hands to her chest. "He knew your name, he - my God, you monster-"
There's a brush of wind and a hiccup in Spencer's throat. Her eyes flicker away from Steve and over to the torn entrance of the cell. She expected a HYDRA agent. Here to help Steve kill her. Use her.
But it's not a HYDRA agent.
Spencer saw the shirt, first - tight-fitted, athletic shirt lined with blue and silver. The silver hair with the brown roots and the blue eyes.
Pietro is at the door. He was standing there, at the door, looking at Spencer. He looked pained. Distraught.
"Please," Spencer croaked out, her fight dissolving right out of her body. She didn't have to fight anymore - if Pietro was here, Tony was here, Bruce was here.
Spencer stopped in her tracks. How many of them were traitors, like Steve?
"Oh my God," Pietro breathed out, his eyes taking over Spencer's battered form. Bruises at her eyes, blood staining her shirt, and the way her body is hunched over in pain. First the first time, Spencer thinks Pietro sees her for what she really is. Broken. Disgusting. Hurt.
His eyes meet hers. "dragă."
If he was a traitor, Spencer didn't care. He could shoot her, right here and now, and she wouldn't care because she trusted him with everything, and if he killed her, it's okay. At least she felt relief for just a second.
Spencer ran at him.
Steve moved, almost to interject, but before he could, Spencer's arms were wrapped around Pietro as she anchored herself onto him. Her breathing was unsteady, mostly hiccups and almost-cries, but when she felt Pietro's arms tighten around her.
"You can't trust him," she choked out, her eyes serious now. "He knew - knows this guy tried to kill me-"
"I know, I know," Pietro promised, his eyes staring into Spencer's as he brushed her hair behind her ear. It's matted and gross but he did it, anyway. "We know about the Winter Soldier. Please. Come with me."
Spencer assessed him, for a second. No thoughts, or anything, she's just looking at him to make sure he's real and he's in front of her and this is not some delusion from almost a week of torture. Finally, Spencer nodded.
"Okay," she agreed, and she can see the way Pietro relaxed momentarily, before pulling her out of the cell. She trailed after him, his hand intertwining with hers securely enough to remind her that she was there,
"I'll lead," Steve offered, and Pietro nodded, even though he could see the hesitation in Spencer's face.
He whispered to her, "I promise he is good, dragă. I wouldn't lie to you."
Spencer nodded, dazedly, and followed the lead through the dingy hallways, hoping no one would try to shoot blindly down here.
After a minute of Pietro murmuring things to her to keep her calm, and practically
"W-why can't you run me out?" Spencer questioned, but sounded more like a whine. She's in pain. Real pain, and she thinks that she might die before they get out of here.
"It's hurt you worse," Pietro explained, his eyes flickering down to her. "I would if I could, I promise to you."
Spencer made a noise of acknowledgment, but her brain isn't strong enough to think through his words right now.
"Comms are down," Steve spoke up for the first time since Spencer had punched him. "I can't contact Bruce, I-"
"That's why," Pietro said, and Steve stared at him before following his vision through the window.
Spencer is the last to follow the lead, and when she looked, she felt sick all over again.
That wasn't Bruce outside the facility. That was the Hulk.
And Spencer was 98% sure he was smashing some HYDRA transportation under his foot.
"We have to get you to the QUINJET," Steve explained, and it took Spencer a moment to realize he was talking to her. She didn't reply, she just glanced at Pietro.
He squeezed her hand. "I'm not leaving you," he told her, seriously.
A few hallways later, and three of them spotted an exit.
They burst through it with force, Steve first to hold the door open, the Pietro and Spencer stumbled through the door.
She could breathe, again.
It was cold, outside, freezing, almost, and Pietro was rushing Spencer to the quinjet when she noticed Hulk smashing away near the facility. He almost hit a small guy dressed in a black suit with arrows.
"Shit!" Clint shouted out. "Watch where you're headed, dude!"
Pietro eyed Clint, and once he was sure he was safe, he was back to tugging Spencer to the QUINJET.
She resisted.
"He-he can't stay like that," she argued, her voice cracking. Pietro and Steve exchanged a look. "I'm going to help him-"
"No!" Steve interjected. "You're hurt, Kid, we don't know how much-"
Spencer didn't listen. She tugged her hand away from Pietro's and ran.
"DAD!" she called out, her voice scratched and raw. "DAD, I'M HERE. IT'S SPENCER PLEASE!"
The Hulk looked down.
Spencer's near a delusional state, but she swears she saw his expression soften.
"SPENCER HURT?"
The words take a moment to get to Spencer's brain. She's staring at this huge guy in front of her and she knows it's Bruce but... it's really not.
"I'm fine," she called back. "I'm okay, please, I need to see my dad. Please let me see him."
It took a moment. Two, maybe. But the Hulk started to shrink, and Spencer's throat opened up.
It was getting harder to stand, but Clint was at Bruce's side offering him something as he hid behind the remnants of a tank.
Spencer turned away, looking to Pietro who was standing right beside her. God, he looked so... beautiful. Spencer's brain can't find any adjectives but he really did. Right there. Beautiful. This might be a goddamn illusion, but Spencer wouldn't care. She isn't sure she could bring herself to.
She's alive.
"Are you alright?" Pietro asked quietly, and Spencer nodded, tearing her eyes away to look over at the approaching form in front of her.
Bruce.
"Dad!" Spencer called, rushing forward, making her way through the debris that was up to her waist. She was so happy to see him so-
Bruce stopped in his tracks. His eyes go wide. "Spencer!" Bruce called out, but it was too late - Spencer felt the cold barrel of a gun press against her head.
There's an arm around her waist, pressing at her open wound. Spencer hissed in response, but the guy kept her firmly against his body.
"Move and I shoot her," the agent threatened, and Spencer is being tugged around so she can see Steve and Natasha, and Pietro. "I swear I'll shoot her dead, right here."
"Don't lose control, Bruce," Wanda advised, carefully to the man standing behind her and the agent. She couldn't see him, but Spencer assumed he was not delighted with the position she was in.
"Let her go," Steve directed him. "It's us you want, not her."
"No, no, it's her want," the man disagreed with a dark chuckle. "This one-" he gave Spencer a jostle, "took down 13 of our trained agents. Only lost to one, but hey, there's always room to improve-"
"Let her go," Bruce demanded, and the guy turned to get a better look, tugging Spencer with him. Her head is strained, her eyes still on Steve and Natasha, and Pietro.
The gun cocked in Natasha's hand which caused Simmons to do the same. Spencer couldn't help it - she started to squirm. The grip against her hurt her breathing.
Natasha's eyes meet hers. "Do not move," she told her, pulling out her own gun, and aiming it at the man holding Spencer.
She's staring, point-blank, at Pietro. His blue eyes are locked on hers, and out of her peripheral vision, she could see his chest rising and falling.
Spencer didn't want to die in front of him. Not when... not when he's looking at her like that even though she's green and a monster. Pietro's the first person to just look at her like that. Like she's something different, and-
The barrel is pressing against her skull with such force Spencer let out a groan.
"If you move, I shoot her," the man threatened the second Pietro shifted just a little bit, and in response, his jaw tightened. His eyes don't have that look anymore - they're glaring and piercing and his head is cocking to the side right before he looked at Spencer.
She doesn't read minds, but Spencer understood. She didn't know how, but she just gets it - Pietro's eyes say everything.
If Spencer's gonna die, she's not going out held against this stupid, sweaty old man. She's not gonna die just... just standing there.
She breathed. That's all Spencer did to make Natasha send her a look - a look that probably said "don't do anything stupid" but Spencer didn't even look. She just thought, hey, my arm's green, and I am not dying today.
Her elbow jabbed up with so much force that the gun practically went flying into the air. She heard a click, but didn't think much of it as Natasha was shouting, "Duck!"
She did. She narrowly missed an attempt by the soldier to punch her in the face, and before she could realize it, Natasha was behind the man, strangling him.
He's resisting, and he's strong. Natasha is strong, too but... Spencer has to do something.
Her knee shot up, right into his crotch, and Natasha holding around his neck tightened, and the man fell to the ground.
She was almost relieved, for just a second, until Spencer heard the gun clatter to the ground, and her eyes fall right where it fell, right in front of-
Spencer's throat was itching. Her head was pounding and her heart was tearing at itself because she knew those stupid, stupid gym shoes - the stained laces and the traction that was waring off - she knew those stupid gym shoes.
The gun had been safety off. The click of the trigger had sounded while in the air but - Spencer didn't know, oh God, she didn't know.
Her eyes shot upwards of their own accord, and there he is - Pietro. His eyes were wide. His mouth was opened a little bit and Spencer took whole second thinking he was going to die before she realized.
His hand?
Holding the bullet. Just wrapped around it, two inches from his heart like it's nothing.
Pietro looked up, meeting Spencer's eyes immediately. His head tilted, and his eyes did that little squinting thing. He said, "What? You didn't see that coming?"
A sob escaped Spencer's throat - she can't help it. It's desperate and terrifying and relieved all at once, and she broke out of whatever stupid trance she was in and Spencer ran.
Right to Pietro.
The bullet is on the ground by the time she reaches him, and his arms wrapped around her like there's nothing else in the world to hold on to. And Spencer just tightened her hold like he was the only thing anchoring her to that stupid, terrifying, terrible second, moment, life-
"Come on," Pietro murmured, quietly enough that only Spencer could hear the rumble against his chest. "You didn't think that could kill me?" he mused, one of his hands pressing against the back of Spencer's head. Tilting his chin down, Pietro locked eyes with Spencer. "A bullet? That's how weak you see me?"
Spencer knew he was just trying to lighten the situation, but there is another stupid sob crawling up her throat so she just shoved her head back into Pietro's chest, and he let her, holding her as securely as he could.
"What the hell happened?" Tony demanded as he landed in the area.
"Just a situation," Natasha explained, her voice unreasonably leveled for someone who just did what she did.
Steve glanced at Bruce and Natasha. He said formally, "I think we are intruding on something."
Natasha hid a smile as Bruce searched her face for an explanation.
"Let's check for the Winter Soldier," Natasha suggested, stepping forward with Steve before the two of them headed back into the building. Tony retreated to the QUINJET, where Wanda was standing at the landing.
It was just Bruce and Clint.
"Yeah," Clint said, after a second, watching as Pietro pulled away to look at Spencer's face again. "We definitely missed something here," he told Bruce, who looked equally as confused as Clint felt. "Hey, lovebirds!" Clint called out, and Pietro sent him a death glare. It took Spencer a moment to realize he was calling them over.
"Let's get Spencer inside," he instructed. "She looks like she's about to die in your arms - and not in a good way. Let's go."