[ BEAUTIFUL CRIMES ]
chapter sixteen; in which the mind is the strongest muscle
❝ You sound like you killed somebody.
Tell me you didn't kill somebody. ❞
SHE SUPPOSES IT'S A REASONABLE HOUR OF THE DAY, as other people are inside, reading or using the computers. The Asian assassin ends up beside an older man. His pale skin is littered in wrinkles and liver spots, and he has a hunch that makes him look more timid than he actually is.
I'm not even sure how he's still here. She thinks cruelly.
Adelina logs into the computer, her fingers moving on their own. She doesn't even know what she wants to type. Her brows furrow when Tony Stark's phone number appears on screen. Her eyes flit to the search bar-
'ttony statk phone #'
Why her fingers wanted to look that up, she has no idea. Adelina sighs softly, looking over to find that the older man had left at some point. Her shaking hand reaches out for the little phone that the older man must've forgotten to grab. It's an older model, she's not even sure how the hell it's still in service. Still, she pushes her dark hair out of her dry eyes before dialing the number into the phone.
Adelina listens as the phone rings. Her heart is pounding louder than the phone is.
She shuts her eyes tightly when there's no response.
Another dial. Another round of ringing. Another sigh when there's no response.
So, she calls again. And again. And again.
There's. No. Response.
Go to the Red Room. Dreykov will forgive you if you forgive yourself.
Call again. Just call again.
Dial. Ringing. Nothing.
What are you doing? Are you trying to rat yourself out? Just accept that this is a hoax number and move on!
Call again! Call 'til your damn fingers fall off!
Dial. Ringing. Nothing.
The marble is cracking. What are you doing?
Don't give up, just redial, it's not that big of a deal.
Dial. Rin
⧗ ⧗
"Mr. Stark," A slightly nasal, feminine voice comes through Tony's office phone. "There's a Maine number that can't seem to stop calling this line."
"So just ignore it, Marie. It's probably another fan or whatever, just tell them that I don't take calls." Tony shrugs, rolling his eyes as he relaxes in his chair. He had been in his office, working on some "boring ass papers" when the woman's voice had rang through. Truthfully, he's happy that there's a distraction to take him away from the work. Not that his receptionist needs to know that.
"They've called sixteen times in the past ten minutes, Mr. Stark. Are you sure?"
"Positive, like a hooker testing for syphilis." He confirms with an annoyed sigh. He tries to return to his papers, and for a while, it works. Until about fifteen minutes, he hears Marie's voice again, which forces the billionaire to roll his eyes.
"Marie, literally just tell them I don't take calls. I'm busy with this bullshit, tell them to call back later." He snaps, looking down at his lap as he places his hands at his temples, rubbing them slowly.
"I'm not Marie." A younger sounding voice responds. Tony sits up, his brows furrowing.
"Demon spawn?" He rips off his aviators for dramatic effect. Why he's wearing sunglasses indoors, no one knows. "Demon spawn, what are you doing?"
"I-" She swallows. "I don't know."
"Dude, you sound like you just ran a marathon. Why are you breathing so heavy?"
"I don't know, I do- I don't know." She sounds quiet, like she's scared to get louder. "Your quietness better be the result of you being at a public fucking library." Tony hisses into the phone.
"Yeah, I'm in... a library." She seems... off. Out of it, almost. Something is definitely wrong.
"You sound like you killed somebody." His breath hitches, his voice lowering in volume. "Tell me you didn't kill somebody."
"I don't... think so. Not- not that I can remember."
"Well, it's kinda hard to fucking forget if you've killed someone or no-" Tony pauses, thinking to himself. "You sound stoned- that's why you sound so weird! Dude, are you stoned?"
"No, I'm not on anything, I swear." She swears quietly. Tony can't see the girl's shivering, or the paleness on her tan skin. He doesn't catch wind of the buckets of sweat pouring down her forehead, or the heart palpitations that she's sure she's having. She tries to keep it like that, keep him in the dark.
"Alright, look, whatever you do, don't hang up. Does that make sense?"
"I won't, I won't."
"Good, good. Where are you?"
No response.
"Demon spawn?"
"I don't- I can't remember."
"What, you can't remember the name of the library or something?"
"No, I can't... I don't know where I am..."
A beat of silence.
"FRIDAY!" He yells louder than he intended to. "Get Romanoff in here!"
⧗ ⧗
She doesn't know how she got back to the out-of-order hotel room. She just knows that she did, at some point. Adelina sits on the soft bed with the stolen phone in her hand. There's a quiet hum coming from somewhere in the room, and it's like a pickaxe striking her brain. Her knee bounces up and down anxiously. Maria's voice finally comes from seemingly nowhere.
"...Adelina? Adelina, are you still there?" Maria asks. She sounds nervous. Normally, Adelina would be happy that she made Maria nervous. Now, she lays on the bed, feeling as heavy as a cinderblock.
"Yeah." She croaks out a response. "Yeah, I'm there."
"Good, Sam is flying to you in his Falcon suit, he'll be there in less than thirty. Nat and Clint are driving over, so it's gonna take a lot longer."
In one ear, out the other. Did it even get in the first ear?
"...Okay." Adelina says quietly. She looks down to her own hands. They look fuzzy, like an old TV with bad reception. As a matter of fact, everything feels fuzzy. Adelina stares at herself. It reminds her of watching of movie, except she's... watching herself. That's not how that works, is it? Staring at herself when there isn't a mirror in sight?
There's a voice coming from the phone, but it sounds distant, blurry almost. Hollow. The meaning of the words is lost to her. The voice hits her eardrums like a hazy echo, a sliver of what it's supposed to sound like. The walls feel tight. An unexplainable feeling, but the walls feel physically tight, like they're closing in on her. She can hear footsteps outside. The steps reverberate through her mind, bouncing off of the walls of her skull. Adelina shuts her eyes tightly, burying her face in the bed. Perhaps she wants to merge herself with it. She has no idea anymore.
Knocking. Quiet at first. It's getting louder. She can't find the energy to move.
Opening door. Adelina finally lifts her head from the bed. Her eyes meet Sam's concerned ones. He looks... grey. Like, physically grey. His face looks marked out, like a child had tried to erase his face with one of those cheap, shitty erasers from a book fair. He's speaking, probably something important, but it sounds hazy, like a cloud of smoke is separating them.
She shuts her eyes again. Everything feels like it's spinning, like gently stirring a bowl of soup. Sam had stopped speaking at some point, she just doesn't know when. Adelina can feel the bed dipping down, the warmth from Sam radiating onto her. The dark-haired girl sits up slowly, gripping the sheets as if she'd slip away if she let go.
"Are you okay?" Finally, Sam is making sense.
"I'm..." She pauses, trying to think of the best way to describe her muddied thoughts. "...I'm watching myself."
"You're watching yourself?"
"Yeah, I don't..."
Fucking spit it out! What is wrong with you?
Take your time, you're fine.
"...Know."
"It's ok, you don't have to know," Sam says softly, taking note of the distant look in her eyes. Her body seems to be there, but her mind is somewhere else. "Are you hungry?"
Adelina shakes her head slowly. It feels like her head will fall off if she shakes too fast.
"Alright, well, Clint and Nat are on the way, and they'll take you to the compound. I can't take you to the compound in my Falcon suit, it's not safe."
"Okay." She mutters softly. Sam doesn't say much else; it doesn't look like any of his words have landed with Adelina, anyway. He sits beside the girl as she trembles, not quite sure what he should do next. Hug her? Comfort her?
Sam looks to the phone on her lap. "Sam, is she okay?" The blonde man's anxious voice fills the space.
"She's..." He hesitates. He stares at the quivering girl. There's bullets of sweat running down her forehead, and her eyes are darting around, like she's expecting someone to pop out of the bushes. "...Breathing. That's really- really all I can say."
"Nat and Clint are on the way, just make sure she doesn't leave."
"Right." Sam whispers as a response.
This is how they sit for hours. Idly, quietly, tensely. Sam looks at Adelina. Adelina never looks back. She lays back on the bed, shaking softly as random thoughts circle her head like a thick cloud of smoke. Sam figures it's better if he keeps quiet. Or maybe it isn't. Does he want to risk pulling Adelina out of her bubble, or should he let her have her alone time?
He thinks this all the way until another knock on the door sounds. He opens it to reveal Natasha and Clint on the other side. Natasha breezes past him, not even giving Sam a chance to process her movement. Clint, on the other hand, releases a small sigh. "Has she done anything while you were here?" The brunette asks the taller man.
"Not much," Sam responds. "She said that she's 'watching herself,' whatever that means."
"Right," Clint nods. His hand lands on Sam's shoulder, patting it. "Look, man, thanks for doin' this. I'm gonna stay around, right any of Adelina's wrongs, but you're free to go."
"Got it." The taller man nods. He looks back at Natasha. She's crouching in front of Adelina, her concerned green eyes meeting Adelina's distant brown ones. He looks back to Clint. The archer has gone God knows where.
"Natasha?"
"Yeah?"
"Call me if there's any progress," He hesitates for a moment. "Or if you need to."
"I will. Thanks, Sam."