DEMONS.
( chapter five. )

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Edited 12/23/2015 @1:36 AM
Edited 04/23/2016 @2:36 AM
Edited 11/16/2017 @12:20 AM

  ANDREA AWOKE TO FIND HERSELF laid back on a table, in an unfamiliar room surrounded by unfamiliar faces. Somehow, her body reacted before her mind could. Andy jolted into a sitting position, swinging her legs off the table before kicking back the nearest person in the room. Her heart was racing and she could hardly think straight past the immediate sense of danger these unfamiliar people brought to her.

  "Agent Jones, we're not here to hurt you." Andrea couldn't tell who said it, but their words did little to ease her panic. She took a stance in the corner of the room, shielding her back while she assessed the situation. There were four people, with one still recovering from where Andy had kicked them to the floor. Their clothes gave the impression of nurses or doctors, but the guise was easy enough to fake.

  Andrea was dimly aware of a throbbing pain in her arm. She spared a momentary glance downwards, ripping out the IV without another thought. It was messy enough to leave blood blossoming on her skin in its place.

  "Andy..." The voice that spoke was soft. The brunette lifted her head, looking to the figure standing in the doorway.

  Andrea furrowed her brow. Through the panic, it took her a moment to place who it was, her mind searching for a name to the vaguely familiar face. Not a second later, the realization brought an immediate calm.

  "Natasha," Andy breathed out, expression softening. Her presence was a comfort that eased away her alarm. Any fear clouding her thoughts faded.

The mission. The gunshot. The grenade.

  Andy felt her knees go weak. The doctor she'd knocked down was immediate there, helping her back up. It was clear he harboured no hard feelings.

  "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me," she breathed. Though, Andrea was too exhausted to feel any real embarrassment. Her limbs protested against every movement now that the adrenaline had faded.

  The nurses helped her sit back down on the table and they picked up the stitching where they had left off. Fresh blood decorated the wound, but it was quickly cleaned. Andy felt her brow furrow as she watched the doctor work. Natasha came to stand by her side, waiting with the Jones woman as the doctor finished up.

  Nat audibly sighed, "You took a pretty hard hit, you know. Your body slowed the worst of the bleeding and any other damage caused by the explosion, but halfway back your body gave out and we had to put you in a Med-Pod."

  Andy watched her as she spoke, noting the way Natasha kept her eyes trained solely on the needle and thread that worked to put Andrea's skin back together.

  The Jones girl reached out, grasping at Natasha's hand with a soft smile. "It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?" She studied Nat's features, her gaze imploring the red-head to see reason.

  They couldn't solely place the blame on anyone for what had happened. So much had gone to fault because they hadn't been working together. As they should have been.

  Natasha returned the gesture with a half-hearted shrug, but she still couldn't meet Andy's eyes. She looked flustered to know that Andy could see through her so easily, but the Jones girl had been friends with Natasha long enough to pick up on her tells.

  "I was supposed to have your back, but I underestimated the threat—"

  Andrea couldn't help it, she laughed. "I think we all did," she told her, humour to her tone as she gave Nat a pointed look.

  "If anything," Andy said, "The blame is on all of us. I was distracted, we underestimated what we were dealing with, and Steve was too busy focusing on us to pay attention to Batroc. A lot happened, Nat, the blame can't fall directly onto you."

  Natasha didn't seem convinced, "You lost a lot of blood—"

  Andy rolled her eyes, "I got shot, sure, but I lived. It could've happened to any one of us, but we'll do better next time." She raised her arm, nodding at the IV mark that had already scabbed over. She could feel it beginning to itch with the irritation of healing skin.

  Alongside her abilities, Andy's body had a highly advanced healing process. "Look, it's already starting to kick in, there's nothing to worry about," Andy pointed out.

  Natasha gave a hum of acknowledgment and silence fell between them once more. The doctor cut the last piece of surgical thread and stepped back. Andy admired the clean work.

  "Normally," he began with a sigh, "When I receive unconscious patients, I would recommend staying the night to oversee your recovery. But, I've been informed about your situation, so you're free to leave whenever you're comfortable."

  Andy turned to Nat and rose a brow. Very few people knew of the full extent to her abilities, even within S.H.I.E.L.D. Andrea didn't necessarily understand the precaution, but she figured it was best to keep it that way. She would be a lot easier to kill if everyone knew where her weaknesses and strengths lied.

  Natasha nodded at the doctor before looking to Andrea, "He's a friend of Tony, apparently he's on standby specifically for you." She wiggled her brows at that.

Andy swatted her arm, feeling her cheeks flush. She hoped that Steve's resistance to Natasha's set-up's hadn't made her the red-head's newest victim. God forbid she ever have to endure that nightmare.

  Andy glanced up at the doctor. "Thank you, and—" she hesitated only a second before forcing herself to continue. "I wouldn't blame you if you purposely messed up my sutures to give me an ugly scar."

  It was a poor apology for having kicked him into a wall. But, it was the best she could manage given that she could hardly meet his eyes.

  The doctor laughed, "I would never, but I appreciate the sentiment."

  Andrea flushed a deeper shade of embarrassment and nodded. She slipped on the jacket Natasha handed her, taking care of her stitches before the pair finally made their way out of the room. It wasn't until they were out in the hallway that Andy realized they were still in S.H.I.E.L.D's headquarters.

  Andy glanced back, watching through the window in the door as the doctor and nurses collected their medical supplies. He really must be on standby, she thought curiously as she studied the doctor from afar. He was a lot younger than she anticipated, now that she was getting a good look at him.

  "Batroc got away," Natasha spoke up, pulling Andrea's attention back towards her. The Romanoff woman didn't seem to notice her daze and Andy was thankful for that. She didn't want to give Nat any sudden inspiration in her efforts as S.H.I.E.L.D's resident cupid. She had enough on her plate without dating added into the mix.

  "I'm not worried," Andy replied as they continued down the halls, "I'm sure we'll find him now that he's on our radar." They entered the elevator, with Andy going down to the parking garage and Natasha going up. She figured the Romanoff woman was heading to Fury's office to report on Andy's status and her solo mission.

  "And if Batroc decides he wants to go after you or Steve?" Natasha questioned, one brow poised, though the inquiry wasn't serious.

  Andrea laughed. "Please," she said as the elevator doors opened to the ground-level parking garage. "If a gunshot wound and a grenade couldn't kill me, what makes you think a man can?" Andy stepped out of the elevator, sharing a sly grin with Natasha. "See you around, Nat."

  The doors closed just as Natasha cracked a smile and Andy turned to venture deeper into the garage. She made her way towards her Vespa, but was disappointed to find that Steve's motorcycle wasn't parked beside it. Despite how unlikely it was, the female hoped to find that she would make it home before Steve. Andy wanted to avoid confrontation for as long as possible.

  The Jones girl would need a long rest before she could even think about dealing with the tension between them. Andy pulled her helmet onto her head, securing the strap before she left the garage. It was dark out when she hit the streets, but between her watch and the slow traffic, she knew that it was early morning. The sun would be rising soon, which meant Andrea had been out of it all night.

  The brunette pushed aside her discomfort at that thought. She didn't like the idea of hours of her life going by without her being aware of it. Noting that her fuel was low, the Jones girl steered her Vespa into the nearest gas station. As she filled the tank, Andy couldn't help but think back to the words Steve had said to her.

  Aside from the rest of the Avenger's and perhaps Fury, there weren't many others who Andrea was close with. Considering her job, she didn't want to risk putting anyone else in danger. Simply put, there was no one Andy could think of who would or could have Steve make a promise like that. Keeping her safe? Everyone knew she was capable of doing that on her own.

  Andy shook off the thought as she pulled the nozzle out of her tank and placed it back on the hook. She could ask questions later, it was cold and she was tired. Ducking into her jacket collar, Andy turned and went in to pay. The exchange was quick, but upon coming back out, Andrea paused as something moved out of sight. A shape, just at the edge of her vision.

  Turning her head, she ignored all instincts that told her to turn the other way, even as she rounded the corner of the store. The alleyway was empty. There was nothing here. Andy let out a huff, releasing the tension in her body. Natasha's words about Batroc had likely set off her paranoia. She turned to leave, but Andrea froze as a figure jumped down from the fire escape at the opposite end of the alley.

  Andrea's hand instinctively went to the place where her gun was supposed to be, holstered along her thigh. When her search came up empty, she cursed with the realization that it must've been taken off when she was brought back to HQ. The figure moved towards her, but any notable characteristics were silhouetted by the light.

  Andy took a defensive stance, confident in her skill. "Who are you?" The demand went without answer. Quickly, Andrea lifted her leg and swiped the butterfly knife out of her boot; a gift from Natasha.

  She flicked it open, prepared to utilize the weapon to its full extent if need be. She might have been overreacting. But, given their latest mission, Andy figured it was mere precaution.

  The man paused, seeming to think better of himself and Andrea took the moment of hesitation to study him. He was tall— taller than Batroc, but he definitely had just as much brawn. That was about all she could read off him, given the poor lighting and dark hours. The man inclined his head, but she couldn't tell if it was in thought or curiosity.

  Was he assessing her threat level just as she was his?

  After a beat of silence, he spoke, "Zhnitsa."

  Russian, Andrea immediately guessed, then wondered what it meant. Reaper? His voice was rough— not naturally. It sounded more like his throat was raw, as if he hadn't spoken in some time. He said it like a question, but he didn't seem unsure of himself.

  "Zhnitsa," he said again, but with more firmness.

  Something cold and hard seemed to hit Andy then. Realization— and nostalgia. There was a familiarity to that word and this man knew it, but the feelings it brought were nothing short of sickening. Not knowing what it meant to her was torture, but worse than that was its effect; the nausea and the anxiety. How this word was linked to her, Andy didn't want to know.

  Dread built up in the pit of her stomach. Her whole stance was unravelling and it had been brought on by a single word. Without another thought, Andy turned and ran. No footsteps sounded behind her, but she refused to slow. Andrea got onto her Vespa, cursing her choice in transportation as she stepped on the gas and floored it out of the gas station.

  Andy was still shaking when she arrived at her apartment building. She tried to tell herself that this fear was irrational, but there was a part of her that couldn't let it go. Reaper. A chill travelled the length of her spine and she booked it up the stairs, shortening the distance between her and the comfort of home as quickly as possible.

  However, upon reaching the third floor and finding someone sitting at her door, Andy froze at the end of the hallway. Panic filled her fast, but her relief was instantaneous when the man looked up, revealing it to be only Steve. Without thinking, Andrea ran to him as tears stung her eyes. The full weight of how terrified she was didn't seem to hit her until she knew that she didn't have to be anymore.

  Steve sat up quickly, catching her in his arms as she launched herself at him. Her whole frame shook with the sobs wracking her body as the fear ebbed away. She felt so irrational, but what had happened was unshakeable. Zhnitsa.

  Her head ached with the taunt of not knowing what the word meant to her. Andy had never known fear like this. But, there was nowhere in the world she felt safer than in the presence of her best friend.

  "Andy, what happened?" Steve pulled away, his eyes full of concern as he took in her shaking form. She tried to speak, but words were suddenly hard to grasp. The fear returned, overwhelming as ever as the world seemed to spin. Steve's expression fell. She was shaking all over now.

  Andrea inhaled a gasping breath as pain suddenly blinded her. "Andy?" She couldn't reply. The world went white. Her head felt like it was being split apart. The Jones girl was hardly aware of her piercing screams as her knees suddenly gave out. The agony was nearly unbearable now.

  Andy's throat felt raw as she clutched her head, begging for release from whatever work was orchestrating this new form of torture. A ringing filled her ears then, muting out the world and the panicked cries of Steve. The world was still spinning as she slipped from his grasp and onto the floor. The impact didn't hurt— it didn't even compare to the pure agony tearing her apart.

  Suddenly, Andrea could feel nothing. Through her dotted vision, she watched as Steve dialled something into his phone. Her thoughts were a mess. Nothing was making sense. She was aware of being rolled onto her side, but could hardly feel it. Exhaustion wore down on her; a suffocating blanket that wouldn't let up.

  Sound flooded back in so suddenly, she winced. "Stay with me, Andy. Stay awake." Steve's voice sounded distant, but it was there. Andy wanted to listen to him; she knew there was a reason to the distress in his voice. But, she was so tired, and it was getting harder to keep her eyes open. The blanket pressed down harder and it was as if Andrea had no choice as her eyes fluttered closed.

  The last words she heard were of raw panic, but in her sudden confusion, Andy couldn't decipher who it could be as sleep descended upon her, "Please help, I need an ambulance—"

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