Driven Mad (Book 1 in the MAD Series)(An Avengers Fan Fiction)

T'Challa

The King of Wakanda could hear the commotion from the other side of the room, the fighting between the Black Widow and Hawkeye and the Mad Thinker. He could hear everything, but it was nothing more than background noise to his thudding heart. Everything was happening at once. Klaw had come to him, Mystique had attacked him, he’d transformed into the Panther, and now Ororo was chained up, lying on the bar, just waiting to be branded…

Or worse.

T’Challa frantically struggled against his chains, frantic and terrified for his wife. Ororo’s eyes were staring at him, her neck craned so that she could just hardly see him, her eyes pleading him to rescue her. She looked terrified because if the Mad Thinker killed her, he’d be killing their children as well. If he killed his wife and their four unborn children, he knew that nothing would matter to him, even if he managed to escape this situation alive.

He could feel blood dripping down his wrists from the chains that held him captive, but he didn’t care. He would be willing to saw off his own hands if it meant escaping and saving Ororo. He needed to save her and his children. He’d felt this sheer terror a few times, but never as bad as this. He knew that his chances of ever getting to her were slim, especially with these chains.

Suddenly, there was a loud slam against the wall, a slam so loud and so hard that it vibrated the entire floor. He turned his eyes away from Ororo and saw that Natasha and Clint had been slammed against the wall. They’d both slumped over, unconscious but still breathing. That made four unconscious Avengers, Bruce, Betty, Clint, and Natasha. They couldn’t afford much more.

T’Challa watched as the Mad Thinker straightened himself out, unfazed by his match with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. He straightened out his jacket and bowtie and fixed his hair back to the way it was supposed to be. He let out a huff of air, regaining his posture, ready to go back to his torture of the Avengers. “Let’s hope that no more of you pull another stunt like that. Or else there will be worse consequences. Let them be your example, kiddies.” The Mad Thinker sighed.

T’Challa watched as he turned to Ororo, his green eyes glinting in amusement at her sheer terror. He hated that he couldn’t protect her, that he couldn’t save her from this man. He watched silently, wanting to know what he was going to say to her, what he was going to do to her. He just silently prayed that he’d let her and their children live, leave from this untouched, unbroken.

He watched in almost relief as he walked away from his wife, praying that he’d just leave her be. But T’Challa knew that he wasn’t going to let them go that easily. The Mad Thinker strode over toward Toni’s limp body as she lay unconscious on the ground from the Black Widow’s beating. He moved past her and picked up the knife that had been knocked from her hand in Natasha’s attack. T’Challa watched in utter terror as he stood back up and turned to Ororo with a sickening smirk scrawled all over his rigid features.

Ororo’s eyes went wide in horror as well as T’Challa’s as the two watched. The Avengers erupted into shouts of objection, the entire room full of cries from all but the two who were in the most danger. The two were left in stunned, horrified silence, just staring at the Mad Thinker as he approached. He smiled in satisfaction as he smiled brightly, smirking maliciously.

“Let’s play a bit of music, shall we?” The Mad Thinker smirked.

He shifted on the balls of his feet and strode across the tile floor. He strode over to the massive stereo system, surely to play some sort of music. T’Challa watched anxiously, relieved that he had just a few more moments to come up with a plan to escape and save his wife and unborn children. He tried to think but, of course, in that exact moment, he couldn’t think of a single thing. All that went through his mind was how much he loved Ororo and how much he was going to miss life as he knew it before they’d started this final battle.