*Hey everyone! Did you have a good Thanksgiving? I ate more pie than I probably should have :3 Anyway here's the new chapter! Hope you like it!*
Chapter Twelve: Blackout
I blinked once, twice, three times, trying to process the information Stark had just given me. Adam? They took Adam? As in, my brother, Adam? I blinked a few more times and shook my head. My eyes scanned Stark’s face, looking for some sign of humor, indicating that he was joking. I found none.
And that’s when I started to cry.
I’ll admit, it was not my finest hour. Well, it was really just a few minutes. But I had all the works: the never-ending tears, the dripping nose, and the red, blotchy face, all in that short span of time. I even hiccupped once or twice. All while Stark stared at me, looking completely confused.
“Mo,” he said slowly. “Stop. Stop crying. Mo?” I shook my head at him, holding my hands up in front of my face. I knew I looked horrible; I just couldn’t stop. “Cut it out, Mo, you’re freaking me out!”
My shoulders shook. My brother, they had my brother! What were they going to do to him? Would they kill him? Had they killed him already? “Mo! Quit it!” Stark said, a little louder.
“I-I c-c-can’t!” I hiccupped, shaking my head vigorously.
Stark’s palm connected with the side of my head and withdrew so quickly that I barely even registered it had happened. “Knock it off!” he yelled, grabbing me by the shoulders again.
Immediately, the tears stopped. I gazed at Stark through blurry eyes, feeling nothing but gratitude toward him. I just didn’t have it in me to be angry with him for slapping me. At least he got me to stop crying. “Thank you, Stark,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I’m sorry.”
His brown eyes softened. “Crying isn’t going to save your brother, Mo. Only we can. So get up, splash some water on your face, and suit up. Rogers and the others should be here soon.”
I did as I was told, getting to my feet and walking toward my bedroom. I gathered my Animo outfit and retreated into the bathroom. The cold water brought me back to my senses, as well erased all traces of my tears.
I slipped into my improved apparel, tugging the black pants on and throwing the black jacket – minus the wings – over my t-shirt of the same color. It had gotten cold in winter, obviously, so I’d had to revert back to the longer clothes. Although it was July, however, the nights in the Midwest were still a little chilly. And I looked pretty kickass in my outfit, anyway.
No more crying, Mo, I told myself. It’s time to get down to business.
I turned the arrow I’d gotten so long ago over in my hands. It hadn’t left my side since that very first day. I didn’t even have a reason for keeping it around; I just liked to look at it sometimes. And, besides: who knows when I may need another weapon, in addition to my dagger? I slipped the arrow into my waistband and opened the door.
When I returned to the living room, Stark was dressed in the same t-shirt and jeans I’d left him in. “What, no Iron Man suit?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“It’s supposed to be a quick mission. In and out. My suit is too clunky, and, besides: Rogers is worried I’ll attack someone.”
I rolled my eyes. “Great. Great. Because I’m sure the aliens will just let us walk right in, take my brother, and then just walk right back out without putting up any sort of a fight. He expects us to go in there defenseless? That’s idiotic.”
Stark chuckled and clapped me on the shoulder, steering me toward the window. “Good to have you and your opinions back.”
I was confused as to why we were going to the window, until I saw the ladder leading up. Of course; the elevator didn’t go to the roof. “Is this safe?” I asked, a little unsure.
“Are you wearing your boots?” I nodded. “Then you should have nothing to worry about.” As if to prove his point, Stark pushed me in front of him and motioned for me to climb up first. “I’ll attempt to catch you if you fall.”
“I feel so reassured,” I snapped back, placing both hands on the rungs.
Slowly but surely, I brought myself closer to the top. I could hear Stark following right behind me. The echoing of my boots on the metal bars resounded in the still night air. City that never sleeps, huh? As if.
Once the ledge of the flat roof came into view, I gripped the cement tightly and started pulling myself up. I was never any good at pull-ups in gym class. Like he knew my struggle, Stark gave me a rough from behind and sent me toppling over the edge onto the loose gravel. He swung himself over and stepped over to where I lay, giving me a smug smirk. I glared at him, but he laughed it off.
We were barely up there for five minutes when a tiny plane came to a hesitant stop above us. The door on the side slid open and an arm stuck out. Stark nudged me forward, and I reached up to grab it. Their warm hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged me upwards. Judging by its appearance, it was Rogers. Another hand grabbed me just above my elbow on my other arm. That was Thor; the attached arm was thick and muscular.
I was tossed ungracefully into the plane. Stark was pulled in soon after I was, except he remained on his feet. I rolled over onto my side and found I’d landed in between Banner and Natasha. I shot them both smiles before narrowing my eyes at Rogers and Thor. “Way to be gentle,” I said sarcastically.
Rogers ignored me and looked at Stark. “Did you tell her?” he asked.
I paled. In the rush to get outside and into the aircraft, I’d forgotten the reason we were leaving in the first place: my brother. We were going to get my brother. “Yeah,” I breathed. “He told me.”
Banner helped me to my feet. As soon as I was up, Natasha pulled me into a one-armed hug. In her other hand she held a gun. In fact, everyone was carrying a gun. Well, not Barton; he had his bow and arrows. I was beginning to feel vulnerable with just my tiny dagger and the arrow in my waistband.
That thought meant nothing in the scheme of things, really. I mean, my brother was kidnapped by aliens, and I was worried about not having a gun? I couldn’t even shoot one. And a knife was perfectly adequate for slicing open creepy alien throats.
After Natasha released me from the hug, I took a step back and leaned against the wall. My eyes closed automatically as I struggled to not hyperventilate. I was going home – well, sort of – but it wasn’t for a visit. It was to save Adam from a life or death situation. The whole idea of it both terrified and angered me at the same time. What right did the aliens have to take my brother away from me? And what right did S.H.I.E.L.D. have to keep me away from my family?
I was shaking pretty badly by the time someone rested a hand on my shoulder. I cracked open one eye to see Barton beside me. “How are you doing? Are you okay?” he asked.
“No, not really,” I replied with a small, forced chuckle.
Someone tapped my other shoulder. Both of my eyes opened to find Stark one my other side, holding out his hand. I was confused; that is, until I saw my iPod lying in his palm, my headphones plugged in and everything.
Automatically, I reached out and swatted his arm. Not the one holding my iPod, of course. That was too risky. “Damn it, Stark, I’ve been looking for that for months!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms.
“I was curious to see what you had on it,” he answered with a smile. “Lots of pictures of a cute blonde boy. Friend of yours?” He took my immediate blush as an affirmative. “Oh, I see. What’s his name?”
I cast my eyes down to the floor. “That’s private, Stark,” I muttered.
“Oh, come on. We’re all friends here. Right, Barton?” A wolfish grin danced on Stark’s lips as his brown gaze traveled to Barton’s face.
I turned to look, too. Barton’s cheeks were pink, and he was staring out the window at the passing scenery. He wasn’t looking at me, nor was he looking at Stark, who was now making silly faces at his back.
Stark bumped me with his hip. “Come on, Mo, let’s hear a name.”
“Brendon!” I snapped, glaring at him. “His name is Brendon.”
Mischief took root in Stark’s features. He leaned a little closer, until I could smell the mint on his breath. For once, there wasn’t a trace of alcohol. I was impressed, to say the least. “How long has this crush been going on, Mo? A year?”
“Three,” I mumbled miserably. It was better to give in, or else he would never let it go. But that didn’t mean I was happy about it. “Three years. Happy?”
Stark’s attention was drawn to Barton again. “Very,” he replied. He pressed my iPod into my waiting palm, giving me a sly smirk. “You’ve got an interesting taste in music, Mo. I’m impressed.”
I ignored that little comment and put in my earphones. I leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, closing my eyes and letting Fall Out Boy serenade me as the plane’s flight attempted to lull me to sleep. I was too high strung to take even a short nap, but the music worked wonders at calming my nerves.
I was so zoned out that I jumped nearly a foot in the air when someone shook my shoulder. It was Rogers. I switched off my music so I could hear. “We’ve arrived,” he said. “The aircraft is right below us.”
I got to my feet, stuck my iPod in my pocket, and joined the rest of the team at the door in the side of the plane. Beneath us, just as Rogers had said, sat an aircraft roughly the size of the helicarrier, if not a little smaller, suspended in the air by giant motors. “How does nobody in the city see this?” I gasped, leaning out to get a better look.
An arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back inside. “We are in the clouds. Nothing can be seen this high up.” It was Thor.
Rogers cleared his throat. “We’re going to have to jump, but it’s not that far down. We should be fine. Once we’ve all landed, the pilot is going to fly off and wait for my call. We need to be quick about this, team. No clowning around.” Those last words were made clearer by his pointed look in Stark’s direction. “Are we ready?”
I nodded and clenched my fists. “Let’s go save my brother.”
Rogers patted my shoulder. “Right. Thor, could you take her down with you?”
Thor nodded; I rolled my eyes. Screw that, I thought. I’ve got my boots. So, without saying anything more, I sucked in a deep breath and jumped.
The wind whistled in my ears and blew my hair back behind my head. My eyes watered. I pressed the button on my bracelet; right on cue, my boots hummed and I was shot back into the air. I couldn’t suppress a short laugh. I turned in circles and then zoomed headfirst for the aircraft. I pulled up at the last second and landed gracefully on my feet.
The rest of the team arrived at my side soon after. Rogers shot me an exasperated look, but said nothing. Instead, he took the lead and walked toward what we assumed to be the entrance.
There didn’t look to be any sort of door knob to turn or scanner to put your fingerprints on. No, it was just a metal door with a small slit of glass that acted as a window. Inside there was nothing but white walls and smooth black tiles on the floor.
Rogers patted the frame, trying to decipher how to get it to open. No dice.
“Guess you didn’t factor this into your plan, did you?” Stark asked, coming to stand beside him. Rogers shot him a nasty glare. “Looks like we’re stuck out here, huh?”
I took a step forward and pressed my hand against the cool metal. There was a sharp beeping noise that pierced my ears. I jerked my hand backward like the door was electrically charged. It immediately slid open noiselessly, silencing the beeping as it did so.
Everyone stared at me with raised eyebrows. “What?” I asked self consciously.
“Why didn’t it open when I touched it?” Rogers inquired, studying my face. I just shrugged; I had absolutely no idea why. It just sort of...happened.
Nobody said anything after that; nobody even moved. Banner finally spoke up, moving forward until he stood in the open doorway. “I can go first. Come on.” He disappeared around the corner.
The rest of us walked a little faster to catch up to him. I went in last and turned around to watch the door slide closed behind me. I swallowed once; whatever was going to happen next, I knew it would be nothing good.
I fell into step beside Barton as we walked down countless numbers of halls. Neither of us said anything. We just walked in silence, Barton staring straight ahead with a set jaw and me glancing around at my surroundings. There wasn’t much to see; everything was white walls and black floor. We passed several doors, none of which contained my brother. There weren’t even any aliens to be seen.
Now, I will admit I found this strange. But I wasn’t going to question it. The fewer hold-ups we had, the sooner I could get to my brother and get the hell out of that place. So I followed along behind our group, my muscles tensed and ready to leap into action.
We’d been wandering the halls for what seemed like hours when I finally heard something: whimpering. Someone, somewhere, was in pain, and they were quietly crying out for help.
I stopped dead in my tracks. “Adam,” I whispered.
Barton turned back to look at me for the first time since we’d left the plane. “Mo,” he said in a low voice. “What is it?”
I ignored him and looked around, straining to hear the noise again. It took a few seconds, but I eventually caught the silent plea. “Help me.” It was quiet and breathy. How was nobody else hearing this? “Help me.”
It was my brother; it had to be. “Adam!” I yelled, taking off at a dead sprint. “Adam, I’m coming, just hold on!”
I shoved my way past everyone in a desperate attempt to find my brother. Both Rogers and Stark tried to grab me and make me stop, but I evaded their outstretched hands and kept running.
I rounded a corner and skidded to a stop when I saw a door that looked different than the others. While every other door we’d seen was a pristine white and was half-filled with glass windows, this door was silvery and had one small, thin opening about three quarters of the way to the top. And through that opening I could see a young man strapped to a table, his brown hair slick with sweat, his body bruised bleeding.
Adam.
“Adam!” I shouted. “Adam, I’m here!”
I ran at the door and pressed my palm against it, hoping it would work like the first door did. Just as I’d suspected, the door slid open at my touch. I ran inside and hurtled toward the red-stained table, tears already starting to fall. But these were happy tears this time, not ones of sadness.
“Adam,” I whispered. “I found you.”
Hazy blue eyes, identical to mine, blinked open. They searched my face, slowly registering what they were seeing. “Mo,” my brother breathed. “It’s you. You came.”
I laughed a little. “Of course I did. You’re my brother. I’ve gotta look out for you, you know?”
He tried to laugh, but it turned into a cough. “I think, as the older brother,” he started, managing a small smile. “I should be the one looking out for you.”
There was a loud banging sound from outside in the hall. I turned and found the rest of the team on the other side of the door. I hadn’t even realized it had shut behind me. Quickly, I went back to it and touched the cool steel, marveling as it opened again.
“Mo, you can’t just run off like that!” Rogers scolded, walking in ahead of the others. “You could have been killed!”
Adam spoke up from the table. “Friends of yours?” he asked me. I smiled and nodded. “Well, do these friends intend to unbound me, or are they just going to stand there and stare at us?”
Natasha was the first to act. She came around the opposite side of the table and began tugging on one of the straps. I did the same on Adam’s left side, attempting to untie his arm, and being careful not to touch the multiple cuts that were still dripping blood. Banner moved to his right leg, Thor his left. Stark pulled on the black leather across Adam’s chest, and Rogers did the same with the strap across his forehead.
My hands were shaking so badly I was finding it hard to get a good enough grip. Barton’s warm hands moved mine aside and proceeded to finish the job I’d started.
As soon as Adam was freed, Thor helped him get to his feet. I threw my arms around my brother’s neck and buried my face in his chest. My cheeks were wet, but whether it was my tears or his blood, I had no idea. I hadn’t realized until then how desperately I’d missed my brother, the guy who’d protected me from jerky boys and mean girls all the way up through eighth grade. I wanted to stay there hugging him like that forever.
The sound of an alarm starting blaring as soon as we pulled apart. “Shit,” I swore, earning a stern look from Adam. “Sorry, bro, but we’ve got more important matters to deal with right now,” I smirked.
Thundering footsteps echoed in the formerly-empty halls. As soon as the first silver-clawed alien peeked its head around the corner, an arrow was buried in its neck. I flashed Barton a congratulatory smile, which he quickly returned.
But it wasn’t time to celebrate yet. More and more aliens were entering the doorway, their human-like faces jeering and predatory. I glanced back at Adam as bullets from my teammates whizzed by my ears. “Get behind me,” I ordered, drawing my knife from my back pocket. Adam quickly obliged, moving to stand right behind my back without arguing. He was in no condition to do otherwise.
A deep, guttural growl escaped my throat as one alien headed my way. It hadn’t taken two steps before I’d flung my knife into its eye socket. I heard Adam suck in a breath behind me, but I ignored him and jumped forward to retrieve my blade.
“Mo!” someone shouted. I turned my head to see Rogers waving wildly at me. “We’ve got to run! Let’s go!”
I nodded once and threw one of Adam’s arms over my shoulder. Natasha took his other arm and together we hobbled out of the room. Barton ran just ahead of us, shooting anything that even looked in our direction. Natasha assisted him as much as she could with her gun. I focused all my attention on getting my brother out safely.
A sharp stinging sensation appeared in my ankle. I looked down to find one alien with four arms sprawled out on the floor, holding me tightly with one hand. I desperately flailed my leg, trying to shake him off, but its grip was too tight. Without any sort of warning, I was yanked out from beneath Adam’s arm and thrown to the ground. A tiny noise of surprise slipped past my lips as I was grabbed by several other aliens. They all began pulling me back down the hall, away from the exit and away from my friends.
“Mo!” Adam yelled, his expression one of panic. “Mo!”
I writhed against the aliens’ hold, trying so hard to get free. “Adam!”
By that time, the rest of the team had noticed my absence. They started to run after me, but more aliens came swarming out of every door they passed. “No!” I heard Barton shout. “No! Mo!”
There was nothing they could do to save me, so I tried in vain to save myself. I scratched, bit, and kicked at every alien body part I could reach until the floor beneath me was soaked with the weird orange blood. “Let go of me!” I hissed, lashing out at one of their faces with the claws on my gloves. Blood splattered across my face, momentarily blinding me.
By the time I’d wiped the orange goo out of my eyes, I was being thrown into the room we’d rescued Adam from. I landed in a heap on the floor, instantly getting up onto my knees, ready to attack the aliens who’d taken me. But I was completely alone.
Feeling suddenly encouraged, I leapt to my feet and ran to the door, slamming my palm against it. Nothing happened. A small choking sound escaped my throat as I repeatedly beat the metal with my hand, not stopping until my palm was bright red.
I stood on my toes to look through the opening in the door. There were no aliens in the hallway. There wasn’t any sign of the team, either. “Guys!” I called out. “I’m back in the room!” I paused. “Guys?”
A door I hadn’t noticed before slid open behind me. Out walked an alien with only two arms and a mane of dark hair. His yellow eyes with their cat-like pupils were smiling. His lips parted into a wolfish grin. “Hello, Princess,” he said, taking a few steps forward. His hands were clasped behind his back.
Princess? Now, why did that sound so familiar? Wait, I thought. My face paled and I stepped backward, pressing my entire body against the door, trying to stay as far away from him as possible. “Chris,” I breathed in disbelief.
It was Chris Garfield, the man who’d admitted to working with the aliens in an attempt to find me. The man who’d faintly recognized me, causing me to kiss him and run. That wasn’t one of the best nights of my life, and I had hoped to never see him again. But yet here he was, a living nightmare, and an alien at that. “I didn’t realize you were one of them,” I stated.
“Yes, well, your planet’s colored contacts are a wonderful invention,” Chris replied with a smile.
Sudden realization dawned on me. “Oh my God, I kissed you!” I exclaimed, completely disgusted.
Chris shook his head with a quiet chuckle. “Yes, well, there was that. Now, Princess, I was hoping you’d answer a question for me. And be truthful. There’s a reason none of your friends are around; don’t want them influencing your answer.”
I stared at him suspiciously. “What’s the question?”
“How would you like to join our side? You know there’s no way you can win this war, and surely by now you’ve realized that the only reason we are here is for you.” Chris’s smile turned into a cruel sneer. “You should also know that, once we have you, we’ll leave this sorry excuse for a planet alone.”
“Don’t do it, Mo!”
I whipped around to find a pair of blue eyes in front of the tiny opening. They weren’t a light blue like mine and Adam’s; no, they were darker and deeper. Barton’s. “No, Mo. Don’t do it. We can win this. Please, don’t do it,” he pleaded. Behind him I could see Rogers, Stark, Banner, and Thor. I assumed Natasha had escorted Adam to the plane.
A soft smile tugged at my lips as tears formed at the rims of my eyes. They’d come back for me. They hadn’t been killed. “I’m not stupid, Barton,” I whispered back. To Chris, I answered boldly, “No deal. I’d rather burn here on Earth than go with you to God knows where.”
“Wrong answer,” Chris snarled, leaping forward and grabbing my wrist. He flung me back from the door and slammed shut a tiny panel to cover the opening. I heard Barton’s cry of outrage as his vision was cut off. He was soon joined by the pounding of the rest of their fists on the door.
I glared at Chris. “What are you doing? Let me see my friends!”
“Oh, you’ll be seeing them soon enough,” Chris sneered, throwing me against the table.
I let out a sharp gasp when my ribs hit the metal edge. One of Chris’s hands grabbed the back of my shirt and lifted me into the air before slamming me onto the table. With both hands, he made quick work of tightening each strap to the point where I couldn’t move an inch. I tried, of course, but it was no use. I was stuck.
Right before my eyes, Chris grew two additional arms and elongated silver claws. “Now, I promise this won’t hurt a bit,” he chuckled.
Four sets of claws plunged into four different parts of my body. I screamed, tears automatically cascading down my cheeks. The scream was silenced as soon as he removed his blades from my body, “You bastard,” I choked out. “That hurt like hell.”
“Oops. Sorry. I lied.” He laughed maniacally, using just one crazy-long nail to poke in a tight circle around my stomach. A tiny whimper slipped past my lips. At least he didn’t dig deeper, like the first time.
My relief was cut short when he grabbed my arm, halfway burying his claws into my skin. I screamed till my throat was raw, and even then I didn’t stop. I was bleeding badly, and my body felt really, really weak. Swallowing was difficult, what with my sore throat muscles. Even blinking hurt.
“Are you ready to change your mind yet?” Chris asked, taking a few steps back before turning to a cart that I hadn’t noticed before.
I blinked back more tears and managed to gasp out a response. “Never,” I croaked.
Chris made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Well, no worries.” He procured a needle from a black box. Inside swirled a yellow liquid. “This will have you begging to join us.”
My eyes widened. I had absolutely no idea what it was, but it didn’t look good. It was a needle, of course it wasn’t good! I strained against the straps on my wrists and ankles, but couldn’t move an inch. “Stop,” I pleaded. “Please.”
Chris ignored me, and instead he jammed the needle into my arm, pressing down on the plunger. I could do nothing but watch as the yellow liquid flooded my veins.
Rage built up inside of me. How could this be happening to me? Why weren’t my friends coming to my rescue? Surely Banner could go Hulk and break down the door, or Thor could smash it open with his bare hands. It was made out of metal, for God’s sake! Anger boiled so hotly in my blood that it blocked anything else from entering my consciousness, and, before I knew it, I blacked out.
*
“Mo. Mo, are you all right?”
I groaned quietly and tried to open my eyes. The lids felt so heavy, like they were made of cement. I groaned again and gave up.
Someone was shaking my arm. “Wake up, Mo. Please, God, wake up.”
I couldn’t bring myself to move. My entire body felt like lead. Is this what dying feels like? I thought to myself. It’s really uncomfortable.
There was a sharp stinging in my face, like I’d been slapped. Reflexively, my hand lashed out and wrapped around what felt like a wrist. My eyes snapped open and instantly narrowed when I saw I had captured Stark. It took me a few seconds more to realize that the rest of the team, excluding Natasha and my brother, were standing around me. The restraints that had bound me were hanging off the edges of the table.
“Nice of you to finally save me,” I growled, releasing Stark’s wrist and pushing myself into a sitting position. As soon as I did so, my vision swirled and my head throbbed.
Barton caught me as I swayed. “The door was locked, Mo. There was nothing we could do to break in.”
“Then how are you here now? And where’s Chris?”
Rogers stepped over to my side and gently patted my shoulder. I winced; I was still bleeding from several of my wounds. “We heard you scream a few times, and then everything went quiet. The door slid open on its own, letting us in, but Chris Garfield was nowhere to be found.”
I rubbed at my temple with a hand caked with dried blood. With my other hand I motioned toward the other side of the room. “Over there,” I murmured. “There was a hidden door.”
Stark and Thor went to where I’d pointed and ran their hands along the wall. Meanwhile, Banner had ushered Rogers and Barton away and lifted one of my arms, inspecting it closely. “Other than the obvious stab wounds, did Garfield do anything thing else to you? Maybe take a blood sample, or test something on you, or something of that nature?”
I racked my mind and thought back to the earlier events. I was getting a blank white wall, and that was it. I remembered excruciating pain, but nothing else. There was a fuzzy image of Chris laughing, too. “No,” I answered slowly. “No, I can’t remember anything else.” I blinked up at Banner. “I don’t even remember him stabbing me.”
With a small smile, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask again later. Maybe you’ll have remembered something by then.”
“All right, well, there doesn’t seem to be anything here,” Stark said, turning around to face the rest of us. “We should get back to Natasha and Adam before any more aliens show up.”
Thor came to stand next to the table. “I will carry you to the plane,” he told me. His thick arms slid beneath my body and lifted me up. I cried out in pain, to which he muttered an apology and held me more gently.
Rogers led the way out of the room and down the hallway at a brisker pace than we’d travelled earlier. I was being jostled, but I bit my lip to keep from making a sound. I didn’t want to worry them.
When we came upon the door leading outside, Thor took the lead and I reached out my hand, laying my palm against the metal. It slid open at my touch and Thor ran with me toward the waiting plane.
I closed my eyes and let the wind sooth the lacerations. The chill of it felt amazing, and I found myself slipping back into unconsciousness, although whether it was from pain or drowsiness, I didn’t know. And I didn’t really care.