FOILS 2

(Ok, why don't you focus on bruce and AngelA and I'll use Emma if I need her now.)


Ava walked next to Clint silently and sat down by the table in the kitchen.


"Ava, what did she say to you? Where did she go?"


Ava shrugged. She had seen AngelA do it on many occasions, and it seemed an appropriate time to try it out.


"She just told me the truth."
 
Bruce and Angela got off the elevator. Every other light was on in the hallway, which was lined with doors marked with bronze numbers. It seemed empty except for them. Bruce couldn't hear anybody else breathing, but he couldn't see all the way down to the end. Angela just wasn't paying attention. They tapped down, looking for Dad's room.


Suddenly, someone in really squeaky sneakers rounded the corner behind them. Then, a feminine, happy voice exclaimed,


"Angela Graham!!"


Angela whirled around so fast she almost tripped herself. A night-shift nurse approached her from down the hallway; she turned to Bruce, confused, but he had shrunk into the shadows, less gracefully than Batman but giving off twice the antisocial vibes.


Angela found herself cornered by this weirdly perky nurse with really pointy breasts and, like, a whole container of blush on her cheeks. The nurse had slanted eyes and red hair, and Angela wondered how an obviously Asian woman could have naturally red hair. She was smiling and Angela smelled lots of hospital-y disinfectant stuff on her.


"You're Angela, right? Of course you are."


"Huh?" Angela grunted stupidly. "Yeah, that's me," she added, like she was talking to a teacher.


Bruce spoke up. "How do you know her name?"


The nurse looked surprised, as if he had materialized out of nowhere, which he sort of did. "Oh! Sorry. Your dad was telling me about you."


Angela's eyes lit up. "Will?"


"Yeah. He wasn't expecting you, but I would have to be some kind of idiot not to know that you're the Angela he was talking about. I mean, you look just like your mother."


 
hey do you want to read my rough draft college essay?
 
(Sure)


"So, you're telling me that Emma told you that you are not a human being because you purposefully do bad things?"


Ava nodded and Clint shook his head.


"Honey, that theory is so full of holes I'm gonna call it Swiss. People purposefully do bad things allllllll the time. And a lot of them didn't have the stuff that you went through as an excuse."


"But people try to be good...at least some of the time. I was never good."


Clint raised his eyebrow, his face beet red.


"No? Well hon, take it from someone who knows. You were the victim. Killing your mother? In a way, in a twisted perverted way, that was an act of kindness and mercy. She begged you for death and you gave her a quick end. The little boy you tortured? Father he called you a monster, after he made you realize what you were really doing you gave him a merciful end. I'm not saying you showed him an abundance of mercy, but you could've kept the torture going for much longer. I've seen the tapes. There are other times too. You saved Angela and her Father from the house when it was collapsing. You didn't have to do that. Hon, nobody's perfect, and you are more screwed up than most, but I have faith in you. You are more than what your father made you to be. "
 
Earlier


Debra Brown.


Debra Brown, the woman none of the male nurses gossiped about anymore, ever since she put the janitor out of commission for talking about where she must get her bras. Everybody's like, "Those nurses. So fragile. So pretty." Yeah, well. Ex-Janitor John doesn't seem to think so, after getting sprayed in the eyes with his own toxic floor cleaner.


Thanks to Debra Brown.


Debra knows she's pretty. She doesn't wear makeup because it makes her look prettier; she just likes it. She got tired of all the other nurses telling her to "stop wearing so much" because the blush and bronzer took away from her "pretty pale complexion," which they all seemed to be jealous of. Them telling her to stop wearing it made her wear more, to be honest. And she hates it when people comment on her "pretty pale complexion," because we all know that's a jab at her Asian heritage, which she really hates.


Patients like Debra Brown. She has a reputation for being nice, being quick, being available whenever someone needs something. So, she was a little taken aback when a disgruntled man in his 30's pretended to be asleep when she came in the room. He had curly brown hair, unshaven stubble, and big feet. She shook his shoulder.


"Time to wake up, Mr. Graham," she said. "You need to take your medication."


Apparently, Mr Graham and his daughter had been the victims of a terrible accident, the details of which had not been disclosed, which made everybody a little suspicious. Mr. Graham rolled over. His face was all bandaged up. He looked tired, even though he had just been pretending to sleep. He dry-swallowed the pills Debra gave him and rolled back over.


"How do you feel?" she asked.


He grunted.


"Come on, Mr. Graham. You should be sleeping. It's like, 11:00 pm."


"I was sleeping," he pointed out.


"You were pretending to sleep," she said.


He rubbed his eyes, and shifted so he was laying on his back. "Sorry. I'm just... I'm tired in a different way. I'm having a hard time adjusting."


He looked over to the other side of the room. Debra followed his gaze. There was a big, burgundy purse there, that obviously belonged to a woman, as well as an Samsung Galaxy.


"It's my... partner's...." he said, hesitantly. "I'm not used to having her around. I didn't even expect her to be here."


"Wife?" she asked.


"No," he said, firmly. "Well, actually, yes," he grunted.


Debra was confused. Will seemed to think he'd let on too much, and fell silent. The door to the room opened suddenly, and a very tall, very redheaded woman with a sharp chin and big, green eyes entered, her presence filling every corner of the room, and making Will shrink back a little in his bed.


"Hi!" chirped Debra. "You must be Mrs. Graham."


The woman analyzed Debra. "I used to be. Now, you can call me Mrs. Lecter."


 
(well, apparently its not letting me upload the document anywhere. so it an wait)
 
More than what your father made you to be.


Ava couldn't get the words out of her head as she went throughout her day. They rang in her head before she fell asleep.


He is correct. I have surpassed my training. I have overcome my Father. Ava shook her head at herself.


Unless this is simply another test. Unless he allowed me to escape. I will be free for five years and then in the pit for twenty. It would be wise to go back now and spare myself some pain.


PJ sniffed and readjusted himself in sleep, moaning in contentment as he curled up by Ava's side, sucking up her warmth and adding his to hers.


Who cares?


Ava blinked.


If I am free, why not act like it? If I am to be punished despite what I do, I may as well learn to have enjoyment and try to do good while I have the chance. Whilst I am free, I shall allow myself to truly be free. No more hiding. No more running. I will be free, and I shall fight myself for my freedom if I must.


Ava closed her eyes and sighed along with PJ as sleep, that montrous friend, grabbed her in his talons and flew her far, far away.
 
Mrs. Lecter was a tall, thin, skeptical woman, who didnt return Debra's smile. Those big, green eyes were not to be forgotten- that's what really made Debra sure that the little girl with the sad-looking uncle just had to be related. Debra led the way to Will's room, and Angela held her hand.


"Was my mom there?" she asked, her tongue knocking against the gaps in her teeth as she spoke.


"The last time I was there, yeah."


Angela paused. "How'd she seem?"


Debra gave her a questioning look.


"I mean, like, did she seem happy to be there?" Angela pressed.


"Uh-"


The sad-looking uncle chirped up. "It doesnt matter now, Ang. We're here and you wanted to see them."


Debra let go of Angela's hand. "Besides, we're here."
 
We're here.


Angela opened the door. She left Banner behind because, well.


what place did he have in here? her dad was in that bed. whatever place he thought he has assumed as a surrogate, he was wrong.


will didn't move as angela approached. she couldnt even see him breathing under the thin, hospital-issued covers, the color of mint. she expected to feel something, but her emotions weren't operating. it was uncharacteristic, but very characteristic for will. maybe she had just learned to assume his personality, because she missed it so much.


"Dad?"


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 
(ok, so im thinking we should do hydra invasion pretty soon. Ava is just beginning to heal, idk where you want angela to be developmental wise when it happens but i think even if she was off base and it happened it would be good. she and bruce would come back and be all like 'whaaaaat?' and clint wouldn't be sure who to trust so it'd be crazy. idk what you think about it, we'll talk about it. just an idea.)


Ava set PJ on the floor and had him walk behind her in the hallway. It seemed busier than usual, but it had been like that since Angela and Doctor Banner left. She strode into the kitchen and looked in the fridge, smiling at the large jug of red cool aid. She removed it and poured some of it in a kettle. Angela had told her about this once, trying to get her to do it. Since Ava was free to do what she wanted now, mostly, she would start with this.


In the bathroom Ava was soaking her hair in the kool aid. It was scalding hot, but she'd been through worse tortures. She was doing a handstand and holding her body just low enough to have some of her hair in the red mixture.


Angela would know how to do this the right way. I wonder if her fieldtrip is going as planned.


Clint knocked on Ava's door and went in. No one home.


That's weird.


He went in the kitchen and found a kettle still boiling on the stove with a thick red substance inside.


Crap.


Crap.


Crap.


Where is Ava?


Crap.


Clint put the kettle down slolwy and started a vigurous search.


Did she lose it?


Craaaaap.


He knocked on the bathroom door.


"I am in the bathroom. You may enter."


Cint took a breath, then put his game face on.


He opened the door.


He closed the door.


He opened the door.


"Ava, honey, what are you doing? Also what is the red stuff?


Ava frowned at him upside down, which just looked freaky.


"I am dying my hair. Anglea told me of this before she left. The red stuff is hot kool aid."


"Oh."


"Okay then."


Clint paused. Ava's face was slightly red. That had never happened before.


"How long have you been standing on your head?"


"I believe a half hour."


"Oh."


"Maybe you should, um, stop."


"Why?"


"Your, um, hair is probably done."


"Oh. Okay."
 
How It Was Supposed To Go:


Angela figured that Will's silence was just Will being Will, so she shook his arm, muttering about missing him. Missing the smell like a bad motor that always followed him mixed with eu de wet dog, an odor that sunk into her clothes as well. They didn't even OWN a dog. That woke him up. He smiled at her with the big blue eyes she didn't inherit. And then they would exchange pleasantries, get in the car, and go home. She didn't care where home was, as long as Will was taking her to it. Some hippie instrumental would be playing on the radio station on the way Home. Dad's bird keychain swimsuit thing would dangle from the rearview mirror. Next year, just as promised, he'd teach her how to drive. The first place they'd go, she said, was Johnny Rockets, even though it wasn't really Home, but more like a vacation house. They'd share the ice cream like they always did. And it would be happy.





How It Actually Happened:


"Dad? Wake up. You smell like a gas station bathroom."


Angela shook his arm.


"Dad?"


Banner, a thousand miles (it seemed) in the distance, was shaking her shoulder as she was shaking Will's, and she snapped at him to "cut it the franklin out," (a phrase dad had taught her). But he looked sad.


Sad for her.


"Why's you lookin' at me like that?" snapped Angela, because she hated when people felt sorry for her. "I'm just wakin' Dad up."


"Angela, don't you see it?"


She felt heat in her cheeks. Before she could reply, a woman in lilac scrubs appeared behind her, pushing her away and leaning over Will. Another in mint-colored scrubs pulled her away. Will was getting farther away.


"Dad!"


"Ang-"


"Sir, please get your daughter out of here, she shouldn't have to see this-"


"Yeah, uh, sorry!-"


"He's not my dad! He's my dad!"


Angela threw a fit in the outside hallway as the door slammed. She was stranded in this hallway with this guy who was nothing like Will, just shy and small and sort of sassy in a way usually reserved for small-town barmaids, but fit him and his tweed clothes and slept-in hair just fine. This man told her to calm down.


"Calm down, Ang." She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth.


Things were coming back. Like noises she hadn't been paying attention to before. Things. She noticed a long, annoying, siren-like beep from the inside of the room, and it shocked her because on CSI that always meant a bad thing. She paled.


"Banner," she whispered.


She looked up at him, but he didn't know what to say.
 
(woah dere gee whiz)


"So. Your hair."


Ava looked up at Emma and tried to raise an eyebrow, like Angela used to do. It didn't work.


"That's not blood stain is it?"


Ava sighed inwardly.


"Why does everyone ask me that?"
 
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My name is Bruce William Banner.


I know how to speak several African languages. I can name every element on the periodic table, backwards. In Tony Stark's laboratory, I could split an atom if I so wanted. So, I know a lot of useless information and can do a lot of useless things. I do not know how to tell a 14 year old, eloquently, that her father is dead. And I certainly don't know how to lie and saw it's going to be okay.


As we were standing in the hallway outside the room, she muttered my name and looked up at me, looking for comfort. I hesitated. In that moment, she sunk into herself. They took William out via stretcher, and she started to run after it, yelling, "Dad! We're going to Johnny Rockets after this, right, Dad? Dad! Where are they taking you?" Even as I held her by the back of her coat, she didn't realize that she wasn't moving. She just kept hitting the ground with her feet and her sneakers. I made it a point then to learn how to comfort the grieving. Therefore, I wouldn't be so useless.


Six hours later:


"DO you want me to read you the statement?" Banner asked.


They were sitting in the car in the parking lot. Banner waited an entire five minutes before Angela blinked slowly, zombie-like. Banner felt nervous.


"W... what." Questions require emotion, which Angela didn't have capacity for.


"The statement," Banner repeated.


At first, he didn't know what Angela was asking for with her arm outstretched, but he realized that she was asking to hold the paper. He supposed she could still read. But when he placed the two stapled pages together, she slowly tore them in half, then in quarters, then in eighths, making snow in her lap. Banner would have stopped her if she had been the least bit responsive. But she hadn't been since the hospital. He waited until her fingers grazed the edges of the mess.
 
(dang son, i was not expecting dat, are they on their way back to the bse? also any thoughts on hydra?)


"So, uh, how'd therapy go?"


Ava shrugged(she'd seen that on the tv shows Clint made her watch).


"I did not talk and Emma did crossword puzzles. It was my favorite. When is Angela and Doctor Banner goint to returen?"
 
(what you said sonds fine)


Banner meant to have a private conversation with Mr. Barton, but the car accidentally picked up the frick-frack-snick-snack BlueTooth, and before he could say anything but "Wait, no-," Angela was greeting Clint with a hazy-sounding "Dad?", her dead eyes moving slightly, even though she knew it was impossible.
 
"um, Clint? Remember? "


Clint frowned. Angela's eyes were unfocused, her face pale and her eyes red and puffy. Her hair looked like a greasy bird's nest.


"Is everything all right?"
 
(oh ok ignore dat post ill delete it later)


"No, sorry it's Clint. I thought you guys-well i deduced since you didn't tell me anything-were going to see Angela's Dad? Where the heck are you guys? Ava misses you and she dyed her hair red i'm a bit concerned. Angela she needs your help in teenagerness."
 
"No time for that right now," said Banner, panicked. "Clint, it went bad over here, so we're coming back to the Facility. We're in the car right now. I- I meant to have this conversation in private. But the darn phone did something- augh. I'll call you at the next pit stop."
 
(k have fun at work happy new year almost!)


 
"All right Bruce. I'll see you-"


The connection got static and cut out. Clint frowned.


Shield agents were walking around as usual, nothing seemed too wrong on the outside.


But...


There was a tension in the air. An aprehension. Did they seem to be rushing about a little more than usual?


Clint tried to call Bruce-the line was still down.


He began to walk towards his room, even pace, but quick, like usual. He pretended not to notice how a few agents had started to tail him.


He got to his room and walked in. There were three agents in there already, hiding, badly.


He picked up his computer. Opened it and turned it on.


hail hydra.


 
ThEverything seemed to speed up after that.


1)Clint had opened his computer. It had been hacked.


2)It had been hacked by hydra


3)Hydra was here, and attacking.


Obviously they had sent a team to kill him, more than enough.


They weren't specialists though.


Clint heard the door close, and then an emp blast took out the lights and his hearing aids.


Well great.


It took a bit for things to get going. They shot him, twice, just superficial though.


He was out in fifteen minutes, about, and wearing one of their uniforms. They had only sent seven men.Pathetic.


But they had stolen his dog.


Scum.


Gotta find Ava. Whether she's in on it or not, she's a threat.


"Ava, have you decided?"


Ava looked up at Emma, who was smiling down at her.


"If you come with me now, Hydra can protect you. It will grant you the freedom you need, while using the skills you were trained your whole life to have. You won't have to change. Don't have to. You can be yourself in Hydra, and you will be valued because of it. Unlike SHIELD, which will make you change."


Emma smiled a bit.


"Even if you wanted to stay in SHIELD, you can't. It's dead already."


Ava shrugged. She was really beginning to like shrugging.


"Is Clint hydra? Doctor Banner? Angela?"


Emma shook her head.


"No, they're probably dead already."


Ava's heartbeat picked up a pace.


"They don't matter though Ava, they want to change you. Here," Emma pushed a button on a remote she was holding and Ava felt her collar fall off. She touched the sensitive skin and felt a rush of freedom.


"I have already given you more freedom than SHIELD did while you were with them. Now, you can get us out of here, and into a safe place."


Ava stood up, and Emma did too, smiling.


Ava grimaced back and vanished, reapearing in the game room, panting a bit. It had been quite a while.


She couldn't rest though, the room was full of guards. Shooting everywhere, people screaming in the hallways, blood everywhere.


Ava felt right at home.


She ran into her room and locked the door, and picked up PJ.


She would wait here for a bit.


PJ licked a spot of blood on her sleeve. The poor creature had no idea. Ava crossed the room and opened her closet. Her warm pajamas slid easily over her other clothes. They would not be left behind.
 
This wasn't fair. This was backwards. Yes, this wasn't the way things worked. Bruce was usually the silent one that made everything awkward on long car rides. He felt acid in his empty stomach. They hadn't eaten since breakfast, and now as the sun started to set, Angela should have been howling, but this heavy aura she'd assumed had stoppered her appetite as well as her peppy attitude, it seemed.


"So," said Bruce, 200 miles toward home, in a desperate attempt toward interaction. Shatter this glassy, fragile wall that had formed between them.


He coughed. She was looking at him now, but he hadn't thought this far. Honestly, he hadn't expected her to respond at all. "...What are you listening to?"


Angela popped one of her neon-green earbuds out and held it toward Bruce, who found a way to take it while driving (at ten miles below speed limit).


He listened for a second before his face crumpled in distaste.


"It's rap," said Angela, a bit offended at his expression.


"... yes." He shook the earbud off his ear and returned his right hand to the wheel. Good thing he was ambidextrous. "I just didn't think you would be someone who enjoyed that kind of ...music."


Angela slumped back against the passenger's seat window, lazily closing her eyes. I'm slim shady yes I'm the real shady all you other slim shadys are just imitating....


Bruce sighed. She'd shut down again, and he couldn't take another hour of this. One eye carefully on the road, he tried calling Clint again.
 
"Banner!" Clint was currently fighting through another wave of hydra, but he had been able to get the phone back to working order on his bluetooth. Banner had, of course, chosen a very tricky time to call.


"Don't come back to base! DO NOT! Hydra has taken control, I repeat, if you are not hydra scum, don't come back to base. Keep Angela with you. Did you hear me? Is this going through?"


Clint, may never know. The bluetooth got knocked out of his ear, also he was mostly deaf right now, so he wouldn't know if Banner had responded. He could only keep fighting, keep running, and hope that Banner was doing better.
 
Crash.


What If that was Clint?


Ava swallowed nervously. Emma had said he was probably already dead, but why not make sure?


"Stay." She told PJ as she put him in her closet. Then she ported into the gunfight.


Ah, the sweet aroma of impending death, the heat of the guns blazing everywhere. This is what Ava was trained for.
 
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