Sharon Carter's lucky number is 13 (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} luckythirteen) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rooms,@ 2015-06-10 22:25:00 |
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Who: Sharon Carter, some other people
Where: Stark Tower, some other place
When: During the chaos
What: Some more chaos
Warnings: Ehhhh creepy, mention of past creepy trauma, a dude that hasn't come in quite yet but I took liberties. I HAVE PERMISSION.
She'd gone inside to start clearing the upper floors and making her way down to the group and help everyone upstairs when the explosion happened. She had been mid-fight with two sneaky bastards when the floor shook and the walls rumbled around them. Momentarily jarred the two men ran and she was about to chase after them when she heard the shot ring out and she was thrown back by the bullet hitting her shoulder. Well shit. "This is Carter. Er, Sharon Carter, I'm hit." She said into her comm as she forced herself to get up. The floor was shaking still, she wasn't far up from the blast area, that much she could tell. She needed to get back to the stairs, she reached behind her and felt for an exit wound. There was none. The bullet was still in there.
The front of her flight suit was soaking through quickly.
The lights flickered, it was pitch black for a long moment, with her good hand she grabbed the small flashlight from her utility belt. No one had answered her. She hadn't heard them yet. But once they started speaking again, she said "This is Carter, I'm hit, I'm going down the interior fire stairs." Noe one said anything. They couldn't hear her. But she could hear them. Well shit. Her gun stayed holstered, her flashlight stayed up as she found her way into a bathroom and started stuffing paper towels in between her jumpsuit and her shoulder. Fuck. It really god damn hurt. But she needed to not bleed out before she reached the bottom. She kept her small light in her mouth as she bled through towel after towel, but she kept stuffing. And stuffing until it was packed tightly. She took a strap that was holding a knife to her thigh and did her best to tighten it around her shoulder, it wasn't perfect. but it held some pressure there so she could get back moving. She held her hand there as well, and just hoped she didn't run into anyone else unfriendly.
Every thirty seconds or so she spoke, "This is Carter," as she made her way down the stairs which got darker, and the smell of smoke got heavier. She tried the door on the floor of the explosion, but she couldn't get it open, it was hot, and she knew she could be disturbing a hornet's nest of a chain reaction if she opened it. "This is Carter, I'm on my way down the stairs. I just passed the level with the explosion. Smoke is in the stairwell, but so far no fire." She kept updating, wondering if anyone could hear her at all. They must have assumed she was out already, she didn't hear anyone looking for her. She felt light headed and she tried not to breathe much or move too fast the closer to the bottom she got.
The closer she got the, worse it got, she sat down on a step for a moment. Knowing it was a bad idea. Knowing it was unwise. She leaned her head against the railing of the stairs. She didn't take a deep breath like she wanted. She had to get up. "This is Carter. I'm almost to the bottom." Talking to no one, but new voices had appeared. The team from DC was online now. She heard another scratch of the comm, "This is Carter. Can anyone hear me?" No one said anything. So she assumed no. She heard Steve's voice. She couldn't decide if she wanted to or not. She decided she did, even if it wasn't looking for her anymore. At least it still existed. It barely spoke to her, certainly not about anything serious. She hadn't even seen him since he'd been back. That stung. But for now she could pretend. She was alone in a stairwell and if hearing his voice pushed her the rest of the way down the stairs no one had to know.
"Steve?" she said. Just in case. He didn't hear her. No one did. Now was not the time to start talking to herself. Or him. Or her aunt. Or anyone. In case it turned back on. She wanted to apologize for being an idiot and assuming that just because he was back everything would go back to normal. She'd missed him so much she'd over estimated the depth of things. Grossly. This was not home. This was a strange place with different rules, and different people. She wasn't sure of anything except one thing. She wasn't going to die in this stairwell under these circumstances with voices in her ear that couldn't even hear her. The two people she loved most in the world unable to even hear her. "Aunt Peggy?" she said through a cough that made her dizzy. No. This wasn't happening.
She held to the rail tightly as she made her way down, it got wetter and smellier and she was glad for it. She was almost there. She followed the darkened hallway, her hand on the wall, until she felt a door and she pushed and found herself out on the sidewalk. She coughed and nearly spilled out onto the pavement. She fell to her knees, catching herself with her good arm. Coughing, trying to catch a breath of "fresh" air. The light stung her eyes but she could tell it was chaotic. "This is Carter. I'm outside." Not that anyone could hear her. And they hadn't yet asked after her, so they must have assumed she was already out. That was good. She wanted them out, not looking for her.
The streets were blocked, there were trucks and busses, ambulances and cops. There were people running, injured being treated. The world was spinning around her. She looked around for someone to flag down, but she didn't have to. Two paramedics approached her, and started asking her questions, she told them her name, what had happened, and they went about treating her. O2 and then a stretcher. When they weren't looking, she removed the comm from her ear and put it behind a planter next to the building. She didn't need to take it with her. She almost didn't go to the hospital. Had been avoiding it since her name was in every database as being wanted by SHIELD and every damn other organization. But now that HYDRA had outed themselves in a big way, she figured a bit of trouble might face her, but her name would eventually be cleared. Besides, she needed medical attention. It was business as usual, she'd been hurt worse before, and in worse situations, but they worked quickly. Got her into an ambulance, and continued treating her. She didn't know what they were doing, she wasn't paying close attention, but she was exhausted. Tired. In pain. But the pain didn't last long. Fluids were started, then her eyes got heavy. Real heavy. The world went cockeyed and she thought she heard someone say something, we're en route. Which didn't seem too out of the ordinary. But she didn't have much time to contemplate it.
The cold was the first thing she noticed. Then steady slow beeping of monitors. She didn't open her eyes, couldn't open her eyes. But assessing her situation she knew she was in the hospital. Maybe a recovery room. Had she needed surgery to get the bullet out? Her throat had the raw burn of intubation, and her lips were dry. She tried to lick them but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She didn't hear any familiar recovery room sounds. No other patients, no one asking if she was in pain or sick to her stomach. Just the beep of the machine and the deafening silence of the rest of the room. She tried to open her eyes, her eyelids fluttered and her eyeballs rolled, muscles weak and barely cooperating as she tried to force her eyes to adjust. The room was stark white, and polished silver. She tried to loll her head to one side but couldn't. She tried to lift her arm, her good arm that wasn't burning but couldn't. It was too heavy. Her fingers could barely twitch. As she breathed she tasted antiseptic and the gasses that had been pumped into her. She felt tubing on her face and in her nose. She inhaled deeply, and tried to cough but wasn't strong enough. She seemed to only be breathing in O2. "Hello?" she said her voice barely more than a whisper.
She didn't feel any pain. She didn't feel anything. Paralyzed. But she could wiggle her toes, with concentration, and the tips of her fingers. Her eyes drifted shut again. She didn't know how long she was out. But the next thing she heard, she didn't open her eyes again. She didn't have to. The next thing she heard was a voice. The voice that still haunted her dreams, the voice that could make anyone do anything. The voice that could make her do anything. A voice she had told all her secrets to, a voice that could reach right inside of her with it's deadly cadence and charming tone. It was a voice that could seep inside her mind and pluck things out as it saw fit. Pluck things out and put things in. She had learned how to make it stop when it was just a voice that lingered in her imagination. But the presence at her bedside, the fingers she felt in her hair that she couldn't push away or pull back from. She didn't have to open her eyes. Didn't want to. She knew the face that went with that voice that spoke to her. She refused to look. Refused to let it be as real as the touch on her face and the the moisture welling her eyes.
"Hello, Sharon." She kept her eyes shut, though the shudder that went through her body was real. She shivered at the touches, as gentle as they were, they were horrific. Horrendous in every way. Reminders of what those hands were capable of, and what they'd made her do. What they'd done to her. She felt her stomach turn and flop.
Gently the hand moved over her forehead. But then she felt it pressing harder. A thumb moved to her eyelids and forced them open and turned her head almost roughly. The tears were spilling down her cheeks even as she ground her teeth tightly together, wanting to look anywhere but at that face. Her body still couldn't move. She wanted to scream. But she knew no one would hear her. "I said hello, Sharon." he said to her again, forcing her to look at him, even as she tried to look away with her eyes. He followed her eye movement. He wanted her to see. She couldn't unsee if she wanted to.