3.1

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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."

𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜  ➪ 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧Where stories live. Discover now