a/n: not me updating this so impulsively
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THERE ARE 24 HOURS IN A DAY.
Since she'd arrived back at the Compound, she'd been awake for all of them.
The journey from the facility to New York was hazy, and whether that was from lack of sleep, malnutrition, or trauma, Spencer didn't know nor care. She spent most of the time on the plane crying.
Sobbing, actually.
She's not sure why, and she knows she looked pathetic and weak, but she could have died. There. She was a monster and there were moments, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she liked fighting those people. It made her strong.
She hated herself for it. She forced herself to cry not because she really felt sad or anything, it's just that she's alive. She didn't die. And she really, truly, might be a monster.
The plane ride was a mess, quite honestly. Pietro tried to stay by Spencer's side but Clint told him that she needed medical attention, so Pietro backed off.
But then Steve tried to approach her. Natasha and he hadn't found any trace of the Winter Soldier at the facility, but Spencer had accounted for seeing him - in Steve's defense, he needed answers to save people.
In Spencer's defense, "I am not telling you a damn thing, you fucking traitor."
Which prompted Bruce to drop the medical tool he had been holding, Natasha to raise her eyebrows, and Clint to turn back to Pietro and say, "Go over there."
Pietro did go over there. Spencer was at the make-shift table, her shirt halfway up to reveal a long gash along her waist.
"Hi," Spencer tried to say, but her voice was raw and scratchy and it turned into a hiss when Bruce pressed something against her skin.
Pietro didn't respond. He didn't really think he needed to. Instead, he slipped his hand into spencers. Her skin is cold and cracked, and its crevasses are stained with blood.
"What did I tell you about Steve?" he murmured, his voice more of a rumble than words. Spencer's eyes shifted from him to the blonde man that had retreated over to Natasha, back to Pietro. "He is alright."
"I don't buy it," Spencer whispered back with a shake of her head. "He remembered him," she argued, her voice rising a little as Bruce turned away to throw out some dirtied cotton swabs. "He had his name on his clothes, I-"
Pietro opened his mouth to say something, but someone beat him to it.
"Here," Natasha said softly, offering a croissant to Spencer. "You're probably hungry."
It wasn't Natasha whose name she saw, so Spencer didn't hesitate to eat it. She was hungry. Very, hungry.
"I need to talk to you," Natasha said, her eyes flickering momentarily to Bruce who was back at Spencer's side with some gauze. Her eyes meet the girls again. "About the man you saw."
"Saw?" Spencer scoffed out, which turned into a cough. "He beat the shit out of me."
"He what?" Pietro prompted, and Natasha looked equally as intrigued. Spencer hadn't realized she didn't mention how she met the Winter Soldier.
Her eyes turn away for a moment of peace, but instead, she's met with Bruce's stare, now. He looked concerned. More than he was, initially.
"What happened, Spencer?"
It's been four hours since they got on that Quinjet. Bruce was the first to ask.
Spencer refused to speak, after that.
It's 13 hours after landing at the Compound. 2 AM, Spencer's time. She's laying on the couches in some recreational room that Tony had offered Bruce when they first arrived. It was clear to everyone that noises were having an effect on Spencer, so Tony offered them something closed off. Secure.
He also handed Bruce a tablet that he had requested. Apparently, Nicole Negan was infuriated it took him a whole 6 hours to realize his daughter was missing, and another 6 to finally have the guts to tell her.
When she demanded that Spencer be put on the phone on the ride in the quinjet, Spencer didn't fight it. Because she knew Nicole, and Spencer knew that her mother wasn't going to ask her questions or pound on her for so kind of explanation.
All Nicole had to say was: "I love you, Spencer. You are the strongest person I know."
Eventually, they had to hang up, and Spencer promised to call her back. On the tablet. In the extra room. So the whole Banner-Negan family can have a movie night.
Bruce is lying perpendicular to her, his arm splayed across his stomach. His eyes were nearly bloodshot - he hadn't slept as long as Spencer hadn't. He didn't want to let her see, but Spencer noticed the absurd amounts of caffeine he was drinking just to stay awake.
Spencer didn't mention it. She didn't want him to stop - she'd have to be alone.
"Oh, come on," Bruce muttered, his words slurring with sleep. He gestured lamely to the screen. "The laser gun happens to work."
"Always such a Debbie downer, Bruce," Nicole scoffed from the tablet propped up on Spencer's lap.
"It's a movie," Spencer reminded him, her voice lower than it usually is. "You don't have to bring your seven PhDs into it."
Nicole laughed a big laugh, telling her daughter, "that's a good one, baby. Who's teaching you this? It sure as hell ain't your dad."
Bruce let out a puff of air, and Spencer could tell he was viciously fighting off sleep even as he lifted himself from his reclining position, and leaning over the couch.
It's the first time in months that Spencer was seeing Bruce without a dress shirt or a lab coat. Instead, he's in this brown sweater - something that Spencer used to always see him in. She used to try to hide it when he was packing to go back to the airport like just a sweater would keep him grounded.
Bruce reappeared with a medical kit.
"Doctor Bruce to the rescue!" Nicole exclaimed through the screen.
Spencer looked at it, looked at Bruce, then stared back at the TV.
"Just your arm," Bruce negotiated, a frown settling on his lips.
Spencer spared him a glance, nothing more. "Can you enjoy the movie?" Spencer asked. "You're missing the best part."
"This s isn't the best part," Nicole disagreed, her voice crackling through the speaker. "That's when Heath takes off his shirt-"
Rubbing his face with his fists, Bruce groaned, "Nicole-"
"Oh, please," Nicole scoffed over the call. "Our daughter is an adult, Bruce. She can handle shirtless guys - in fact, how is that boy? The one, you were telling me about-"
"What boy?" Bruce prompted, shifting a little to get a better look at Spencer, who was turning the tables around to face her.
"Mom, Oh my God, stop," Spencer begged.
Nicole was relentless. "Pierre? Pedro? I can't-"
"Don't you have to pack, mom?" Spencer suggested, and Nicole laughed.
"I probably should," she admitted. "I'm on the first flight out - are you going to take good care of our baby, Bruce?"
There's a soft but sad smile that pressed to Bruce's lips, and Spencer handed over the tablet to him. She rolled her eyes, of course, in the process.
"Of course I am," he promised, giving Nicole a soft smile before letting his eyes flicker over to Spencer. "Maybe she'll even sleep."
"Our Spencer?" Nicole checked. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she warned him. "Good night, you two. See you tomorrow."
"Bye mom," Spencer called out softly. She wasn't sure Nicole could even hear it.
There's a moment of silence.
"Not happening," Spencer said, firmly, and Bruce shifted, letting out a sigh. Spencer moved and tucked her legs underneath her. "It's fine. It only hurt a little."
"Because it's not infected," Bruce told her. "If you keep avoiding, it'll get infected-"
"Fine, fine, okay," Spencer caved, tugging up the sleeve of her arm. Her agreement made Bruce hesitate.
"Don't look," Bruce told her.
"I'm not going to look," Spencer huffed. There had been an incident pretty early on where Spencer did look. She promptly threw up her entire lunch.
Bruce pulled at Spencer's sleeve, applying the antibiotic cream which made Spencer shift uncomfortably. She was about to wince at the sting when she heard something in the hallway.
She jolted.
Bruce pulled away, immediately, and Spencer's head spun over to the door.
"Someone's there," she told him, seriously.
Bruce's hand went to the top of her arms, tugging her back against the couch as he stood up. "I don't see anyone," he admitted, stepping closer to the door, and Spencer pressed a few buttons on the tablet. "I'm gonna-"
"Don't bother," Spencer told him, and Bruce glanced down at her. "It's just Pietro, I think."
Bruce looked down at the security feed Spencer handed over to him as she unfolded her legs, slipping past Bruce and over to the door. Carefully, she tugged it open, peeking her head outside.
"Pietro?"
The boy, pacing the other way, spun on his heel, turning towards Spencer with a force that caught her off guard. His eyes are scanning her, critically, like he's looking for something to be wrong with her.
He stopped, after a minute.
Hugging onto the door frame while pulling down her sleeve, Spencer asked, "W-what are you doing?"
"I can't sleep," he admitted, glancing inside the room. "Is Banner with you?"
Spencer nodded. "Yeah, he's..." she trailed off for a second, glancing back at Bruce who was messing with some of his medical stuff. "He's staying with me. For right now."
Pietro nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "He doesn't look good," he mentioned.
Spencer didn't need to follow Pietro's eye line. She confessed, "It's my fault."
Pietro ducked his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "It is not your fault," he insisted, but Spencer just shrugged in response, turning back to the door and swinging it open, expecting Pietro to follow.
Bruce's eyes shot up when he noticed the other person in the room.
"Hey, Pietro," he greeted, his voice laced with exhaustion. Pietro gave him a small gesture in response. "What are you doing up?"
"I'm waiting for a call," he said to Bruce, and Spencer glanced over at him, puzzled. "Wanda is with Vision and Steve in Berlin. After the Winter Soldier," he said, carefully, his eyes darting down to Spencer momentarily.
"Oh, well, I hope it went well," Bruce said, too tired to carry on the conversation.
"Dad, you should go to bed," Spencer advised, softly, and Bruce shook his head before Spencer had finished. "Seriously, you're tired-"
"Spencer, I'm not-"
"I can stay with her," Pietro offered, and bother Banner turned to him, surprised. Spencer was less surprised than Bruce, but still.
If Bruce hadn't been severely sleep-deprived, still shaking with worry and nerves and fear then maybe he would have said no. Maybe he would have insisted that he had to stay with Spencer.
But Bruce was tired. Spencer had been through hell, and so had he.
"Go to bed, Dad," she urged him. "Seriously. I'll be fine. Pietro can keep an eye on the cameras with me."
Pietro glanced down at Spencer. "Cameras?" he repeated.
Spencer shrugged. "Tony set them up," she excused, figuring the rest was self-explanatory. She had been kidnapped on this campus. She needed extra precaution. "I'll see you tomorrow," Spencer said to Bruce, who was standing up.
"Tomorrow," Bruce promised, pressing a kiss to the side of Spencer's head before slipping off to his own room.
Spencer stood there, for a second. It's silent, and she can hear the clock ticking. She turned to Pietro.
"You don't have to stay with me," she told him. "Really, I would-"
Pietro placed his hands on her shoulders, staring down at her, very seriously. "I am not leaving you alone here," he promised her, seriously, and Spencer hated to admit, but it was a big relief.
The compound didn't feel the same anymore. Spencer used to feel safe here, invincible, even, but knowing now what she knows - the double agents, the kidnapping - she can't trust this place.
"What is this?" Pietro asked, his eyes scanning the room.
"Oh, uh," Spencer hesitated for a second, shoving her hands into her sweater. "Tony said we could stay here," she offered lamely, trying to focus on how critically Pietro was looking at her. "Further from the remaining agents."
Pietro nodded, his arm crossing over his chest as he scanned the room again.
After a few seconds, the silence became too much.
"How's Wanda?" Spencer prompted, her voice raising an octave for no reason.
Pietro's eyes drop back to her. "She's fine," he responded with a shrug. "She'll be alright with Vision and Steve." Spencer pulled a face. Pietro sighed. "I told you," he said, carefully, his eyes boring into Spencer's as he stepped impossibly closer. He ducked his head a little to make sure Spencer was really listening. "Steve is not a bad guy."
"He knew him," Spencer argued, her voice lower, but a little more urgent than before. Her arms cross over her chest just as Pietro's unfold to his sides. "You weren't there, he talked like they were friends-"
"Okay, okay," Pietro agreed, wrapping arms around her shoulders and pulling her to his chest. "Mr.America is a bad man," he said, almost teasingly as Spencer shifted her arms to go against his back. "Do you want to sleep?"
Spencer considered the question, for a moment. Yes, she wanted to sleep. She had been awake for days now, and she could feel the exhaustion throughout her entire body.
But when you sleep, you relive things. And Spencer didn't want to relive any of that.
She didn't respond for a minute, and then Pietro took matters into his own hands and super-speed them over to his room.
"I thought you couldn't do that," Spencer mumbled as she was placed back down, sitting down at the edge of Pietro's bed. He was halfway across the room, shuffling through his dresser when he looked up.
"That was before," he said. "You are not in as bad shape," he explained, appearing back at her side. "Now," he said, shuffling back by Spencer, and tossing something she fumbled to catch. "You do get to see how amazing I am."
"Yeah," Spencer muttered, observing the folded socks Pietro had given to her. "What's this?"
"You look cold," he offered. "Those are thermal something - I don't know," he admitted with a shrug. "Stark gave them to me. Very comfortable."
Spencer shrugged and slipped her thin socks off her feet, putting on the ones he'd offered her. Spencer had been cold - she'd been cold since she got to Russia, but even with blankets and jackets, she couldn't feel warm.
Pietro was at her side, pulling back the comforter so Spencer could climb in, and shortly after, him. They're silent, for a few minutes. Perfectly, quiet. It felt like ages since Spencer had spent her nights sneaking through rooms, and now...
She's almost warm, again.
The room lulled into silence. No more voices filling the air, it sounded quiet. Vacant. Peaceful.
Spencer still can't close her eyes. Not even for a second more than a blink, really. Her entire body is on high alert - she can hear everything, see nothing, and fear is coursing through her body.
Even as there's an arm anchored around her waist, holding her right there.
She tried to focus more on Pietro's breathing. Maybe she could calm herself down or something. She could feel his hair tickling her neck, his chest rising at her spine -
Pietro's voice was warm against her neck."They made you fight, hm?"
The words are so soft Spencer almost didn't register the weight behind them.
She didn't answer, but it didn't seem like Pietro needed her too.
"They made me do it too," he said, his voice still soft and quiet and warm. It's almost like the words don't weigh on him as much as they did on Spencer. "Always fighting. Always someone to fight," he sighed out, his words laced with sleep. "We will find them," he said, his voice almost firm for someone who was half asleep, and Spencer shifted around to face him, putting her head in the crook of his neck.
"We will hurt them, Spencer. I swear to you."
Well, if there was a better confession of love, Spencer wouldn't know.