[Quiet in the Chaos]

~33~

~33~

"Ouch I have lost myself again,
Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,
Yeah I think that I might break,
Lost myself again and I feel unsafe."

<'Breathe me'> Sia.

——————————————————————

SHE WINCES as she coughs, blood trickling from her mouth. Her expression contorts with pain. She hears the dull sound of sirens, paining her head even more.

"Come on, Dan," she murmurs, groaning as she shifts upright slightly. Tears well in her eyes and she grits her teeth.

"You OK?"

She looks up, Clint crouched in front of her. "Where's Sam?" she manages, her voice strained.

The archer's eyes scan over her battered form. He hadn't known her for very long, or barely at all, but he's a father. And the girl is young and just abandoned by her boyfriend and friend. And is now facing the reality of being thrown into a cell for the rest of her life. He can't help the sympathy that pours out of him. "He's still in the air, what hurts?" he replies.

The sirens are louder now and the calm that once washed over her has dissipated. She moves to get up, a small whimper leaving her lips.

"Woah, woah-"

"They're not dragging me out of here, Clint. Help me up."

Her brows pull together and she grasps his forearm, he carefully snakes his arms around her, pulling her onto her feet. She clenches her jaw, leaning against the wall. He stands beside her, both their eyes following the oncoming police cars.

"They'll come back for you," he assures gently.

She rests her head against the wall. "It won't matter. I'm not getting out for a long time," she smiles bitterly despite herself.

He sighs, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. She raises her hands as the soldiers jog towards them, dropping her head. She hisses as they yank her forward. "I'm going, I'm going," she snaps, stumbling into their grasp as cuffs get slapped onto her wrists.

This is familiar to her, except this time, she faces it alone. And deep down, beyond the hope that the man she loves will rescue her, she knows that this may be the last time she's a free woman. This isn't HYDRA. These are supposed to be the good guys.

So she must be the bad guy.

                                       ••••

She rests her face between her bent knees, her wrists and ankles bound with heavy restraints. The blue jumpsuit is rough against her skin. Her shoulder burns, her ribs ache and her head throbs.

And yet, she feels none of that.

She only feels the raw fear of what awaits her. She consoles herself with the fairytale hope that perhaps these guys wouldn't be as bad as HYDRA. They couldn't be. That would be impossible.

"D?" Sam's low voice echoes from across from her. She doesn't bother to lift her head. She hears him breathe a sigh. "You still with us?"

She inhales deeply, grimacing as she shifts herself upright, to lean against the back of her cell. "Unfortunately," she responds dryly.

His lips tug upwards slightly. Her eyes flicker his to the door which opens slowly, the infamous Tony Stark stepping through. Her gaze follows him, a heavy emotion washing over his usually sarcastic expression. She doesn't have the heart to hate him.

She was bound to end up here, one way or another. It was only a matter of time.

He pauses outside her cell, pulling the glasses from his face, his deep brown eyes dance around her cell. "Your boyfriend is still a free man."

She presses her lips in a line tiredly. "I can't say I'm sorry," she replies quietly.

He grins his jaw absently, glancing to the floor. "They're going to move you to a different cell, isolation, higher security," he begins.

  "With all due respect, you don't have to do this. I know the drill. I don't need you to walk me through the routine," she interrupts, though no malice is present in her voice, only exhaustion.

He juts his bottom lip out momentarily, inclining his head. "Anyone you want contacted, parents? Siblings?"

She smiles slightly, "No, Tony, I don't want you to ring up my parents to tell them they may never see me again."

He nods, folding his arms before moving over to Sam's side. She doesn't bother to listen, her eyes closing. She knows she won't sleep, but she doesn't want to face reality. At least not yet.

Her eyes snap open a few moments later as her cell door beeps. The door slides open. She clenches her teeth, her expression contorting in pain as she attempts to get to her feet. She stifles a cry, using the wall to slide up.

The guards step in, grasping her arms and push her out. She straightens, forcing her chin high. "See ya later, Sammie," she teases, a tired smirk plastered on her face. "Give Buck a kiss for me."

Despite his usual joking humour he isn't able to muster any amusement or match her mocking. He swallows, his jaw clenched as he watches her disappear.

She's a few steps from the door when her brows pull together, she turns her head back to him. "Sam," she calls. He glances up from the ground. "If you see them, promise me you'll tell them this isn't their fault, tell them not to feel guilty."

The man nods slightly, his agreement her only source of comfort at the moment.

••••

Her head hangs low, her body situated between two uniforms, another three across from her. She stares at her bound hands, her mind drifting away from here. She hopes Bucky and Steve are OK. She hopes Steve would get him out of there, somewhere safe. He had lived countless lifetimes of pain. She only had to live one. She could do it, for him.

So, she doesn't complain when she arrives at the massive prison, or when they give her a new jumpsuit, new restraints. She doesn't even complain when they make her shower with a female officer in the bathroom with her. She doesn't allow herself to feel sorry for herself. She can't, or she'll never stop.

She just closes her eyes and pushes all of her emotion down. Like she's down for years.