Snap! You heard the sickening snap of your poor mother's neck and the noise of human skin meeting the hardwood floor. Trembling with fear and clinging to your older brother, fearful tears fell from your eyes as your abusive father stepped towards you. Your brunette brother hid you in his body, protecting you from the harmful fists of the man you thought you loved.
"Move, boy." The husky growl from the man said. When he shook his head, the older alcholic raised a hand and struck his cheek, hard. Slap!
A terrified shriek left your lips, fearing your brother would end up like your poor mother.
"Shut up!" He yelled at you when you kept right on screaming. He picked you up by your hair, making you yell louder and the tears fall faster.
"L-Leave her alone!" The faint, quivering voice of your brother tried.
But instead of listening to his only son, he threw you at him, ripping a good handful of hair from your head.
You collided with his body with a soft grunt as he caught you in his arms. You wept as you hugged him tightly, thinking it was finally over. That he'd leave you alone. But instead, he stepped towards you and tore you from your brother's arms again.
"B-Bruce!" You cried as he was dragged to his bedroom.
Afraid he would kill him, you stood up to follow him, but that collision with your brother had damaged your ankle. With a yelp of pain, you fell back down and cried more. Instead of entering the room with Bruce, however, your father simply locked him in before walking, once again, towards you in slow, agonizing steps. Thud. Thud. Thud. His boots sounded against the floor.
When he picked you up by your arm, you winced from the strong grip on your forearm. He dragged you out to the car, even though he shouldn't be driving when drunk.
"D-Daddy! Please, stop!" You cried, struggling to be free.
"Shut up." He growled again before stuffing you in the back seat.
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You wake up with a start, panting and sweating. Your (h/c) hair sticks to your face and neck, plastered with the sticky sweat. Your pillow is drenched with the stinky body liquid.
Again. Really? Your mind asks, frustrated. Frustrated with the nightmares and the memories.
You were seven years old when that happened. Every little bit. But you didn't dare think of what happened next. Of what happened to Bruce after your father dropped you off cruelly at the orphanage. A bruised, trembling, crying, child, already homesick. Why couldn't he bring Bruce with you? Why did he have to separate you from the only thing you loved most in this world?
You shake your head and slip your legs over the edge of your bed. The bright, red numbers of your alarm clock read 6:01, taunting you as if saying "look at how early you have to wake up because of your stupid job". Not today. You're not going to work today; today was a very special day. Your wedding day.
Stretching first, you stand up and make your bed out of habit. Then you grab some clothes and head for the towel. You turn the water on, pretty hot, and strip yourself of your pajamas. You step into the hot spray, letting the water punish your skin. You smile to yourself. I'm not gonna let anything ruin today. Nothing at all. You say mentally as you wash your hair with green apple scented shampoo.
As you step out into the cool air of the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. You touch the spot on your head where it hurt so many times in your dream - er, nightmares. You sigh a bit and dress in a pair of dark wash, flared jeans and a nice, burgundy shirt. You slip on some black, open-toed flats and head to the garage, grabbing your purse, sunglasses, and car keys on the way.
You climb into your (f/c) Charger and start it up, slipping on your sunglasses over your eyes. How long was I in the shower? You think as you drive off towards the church; the sun was already up and shining.
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You stand in the bridal room, standing in your long, white dress. It was strapless, with a sweetheart neck line. The top was a corset-style with red ribbon to tie the back. The bottom had a few ruffles and a cute rose design with a train that was only about 4 feet long. Your (h/c) hair was styled in a way to frame your beautifully sculpted face. You wore a birdcage veil.
"Oh wow, (y/n)! You look so pretty!" Your best friend and maiden of honor exclaimed happily.
You smile and hug her. "Thanks, (best friend's name)."
She smiles again and you sit down, waiting for the ceremony to start.
An hour passed. Two hours. Still nothing, and the heels were starting to hurt your feet. Your bridesmaids were starting to feel anxious. Another hour. What was going on?
You get up to see what was wrong. Most of the guests are there, looking pissed off and annoyed. The priest and groomsmen were in the places. Everyone was here... but your groom. Some of the guests notice you and give you sympathetic looks of pity. You walk up to your groom's best friend.
"Where is he?" You hiss, pissed off and worried.
"He's... not coming." He said with a frown, as if disgusted with his own friend.
"What do you mean he's not coming!?"
"He didn't want to get married. Change his mind, I guess. He ran off with one of his ex's."
Devastated, pissed off, and upset, you froze. Tears stung your eyes, but you hated crying in front of other people, especially on a day like this.
"Honey, we're sorry.." Your adopted parents approached you, but you dismissed them with a hand.
"I'm fine." You said in a quivering voice. "I think I'll just go home for a little while."
You turn around with as much grace as possible and walk back to the bridal room to gather your clothes and things, and then left again. Your bridesmaids gave you sympathetic looks, but knew to leave you alone at a time like this.
Without saying a word, you walk back to your car, still in your dress, and grabbed the wheel to start driving home. Your hands grip the wheel so tightly, your knuckles are white. You sit there for a while, spacing out almost, until you finally have the energy enough to start driving home.
As you drive down the freeway, the frustrated tears finally slip free and you sob uncontrollably. You look at the engagement ring on your finger and chuck it out the window.
"Fuck you!" You screamed to no one in particular, as though the car in front of you was your runaway groom.
Why me? Your brain taunted miserably. Why can't anything go right for me? Just once, please?
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Bruce sighed as he sat in his rolling chair. Pulling an all-nighter had its tolls. He and Tony had been working on a new science project for S.H.I.E.L.D. Supposedly, it was supposed to help them next time (if there was ever a next time) in a big fight. Granted, Bruce didn't want the world to be dominated by some crazy, adopted god again or something (Ahem. Loki.) but he didn't want S.H.I.E.L.D to build a nuclear weapon that could also destroy the whole planet.
With a sigh, Bruce removed his glasses and rubbed the spot between his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. This was exhausting.
"Hey, big guy." Tony called from the other side of the room. "Why don't you go get some rest?"
"Cause we have to get this done first." Bruce mumbled into his hand.
"Go on, I'll finish it."
"But-"
"Bruce! Fury wants you." Steve entered the lab and towards Bruce.
The scientist nodded a bit and stood up to leave the lab. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." He said, mostly to Tony.
"Can't promise anything!" Tony called after him.
Bruce chuckled a little and shook his head. He walked up to where Fury usually stood, watching over everyone else.
"Dr. Banner." Fury nodded to him with his hands folded behind his back.
"What is it now?" Bruce asked, seemingly just a tad annoyed. He was tired, and there was still work to do. A lot of it.
"We've found something that may be to your interest."
"Oh really? Is it an exact copy of what we're trying to make so I can go sleep now?" He asked sarcastically.
"No, but I'm sure you'd like to stay connected to what's left of your family?"
Bruce blinked. "My, what? I don't have any kids, nick. I don't-"
"Your sister's been located. An exact 100 percent DNA match between you. Well, without the-"
"Yeah, yeah. You really found her?" Now, Bruce seemed interested.
Fury nodded and motioned to a computer screen where a picture of you was visible, clear as day. Bruce blinked again as he stared at the picture. How much you've grown. He looked at your (h/c) hair that didn't seem as unhealthy and messy as when he remembered. Your body has also changed, in ways that made your brother blush faintly. She's your sister! Stop looking at her like that! He scolded hismelf, as if he was trying to fight off 'the other guy' as well.
"So, this is really her.." He mused aloud and Fury nodded. "The real deal."
"Why were you looking for her anyway? And haven't told me about it?"
"It was actually Stark's and Roger's idea."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "But I told you all my parents are dead. My father murdered my mother, and I don't know what's happened to him, but he's bound to be dead by now."
"We had to know for sure."
Bruce didn't like this, however. Why would S.H.I.E.L.D. want information about sister, and her whereabouts and what not?
"She can come here, if you'd like." Fury said after a while of silence.
"Not with Loki around."
"He's locked in that tank."
"Yeah, and what are you gonna do if 'the other guy' comes? Take him out and put me in?"
Bruce, feeling irritated now, walked back to the lab where Tony and Steve were already gone. He groaned inwardly and sat down. Tiredness eventually took over, and he drifted to sleep in his chair, dreaming about his long-lost sister, and finally being reunited.