#i am giggling and kicking my feet at these brand new horrors to put my guy through | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dragons-bones · 4 years

Text

FFXIV: Quantum Shenanigans

Or, Baby ‘Buncles Break Physics (and Mom)

A/N: IT’S DONE AND JUST IN TIME.

Rating: T Word Count: 4009 Warnings: Mild spoilers for 5.1 MSQ and the Chronicles of the New Era side story Sorrow of Werlyt Cross-posted to AO3

“This is an abomination,” Nero snarled, flipping from what little Synnove and Krile had managed to put together of the Arch Ultima to the ones on the ravaged Ruby Weapon on a tablet. He was sitting at a heavy iron table in one of the Ironworks’s myriad workshops, fidgeting back and forth in one of the wheeled chairs Biggs had welded together on a whim one day, the chair swaying half an ilm side to side. “Absolutely repulsive. Of course the VIIth is involved somehow, that legion has always been full of lunatics.”

He was already ducking out of the way of Synnove’s hand, making to smack him upside the head for the pun, but it left him open to Cid’s hard flick against his temple. Nero yelped at the sting and pointed accusatorily at the other Garlean, yelling, “Hypocrite!”

Dancing Heron, knitting a shawl in the corner of the lab, pointedly cleared her throat.

The trio of scientists glanced over at her and then back at the tablet, subsiding into mostly-good behavior—for the time being.

Nero poked at one of the diagrams on the screen with a ferocious scowl, pinching his fingers together and then flicking them wide to expand the tiny line of code to magnification by five. He held up the tablet, nose practically against the screen as he stared at the close up of part of the recovered code from the Ruby Weapon, his eyes squinting half closed and tracking back and forth as he processed it. “Ah,” he finally said after long moments, “there it is.”

Both Synnove and Cid leaned closer—Synnove over Nero’s left shoulder, Cid over the right—and Nero pulled his head back to give them room, pointing at a small section on the screen with his pinkie finger.

“With most the Weapon melted slag and what remains of the code a scrambled nightmare, it’s hard to tell precisely what swiving nonsense they’ve wrought with my schematics of the original Ultima Weapon, but that isn’t anything either the Allagans had or what I added,” said the former tribune, voice grim.

Cid drummed his fingers on the worktable as he stared at the glowing code. “That looks eerily similar to what we managed to recover of Aulus mal Asina’s unique brand of horror,” he said. “Reversed, of course, since it certainly doesn’t seem like the Ruby Weapon’s oversoul system was ever intended for the pilot to survive.”

“Well, in order to implant the memory of an individual, one has to extract it from somewhere,” drawled Synnove. “But it’s similar to the Ultima Weapon’s coding for absorbing primals, as well. So: did the VIIth manage to get their hands on mal Asina’s research; did they reverse engineer Nero’s notes; or did they come up with it independently? None of these options are particularly comforting.”

(Over in the corner, next to Heron, Tyr suddenly jerked awake from his doze, a small *hic!* escaping him at the same time as his eyes crossed. Heron paused in her knitting and peered down at him, raising her eyebrows.)

“Either way, the results are revolting,” Nero said with palpable disgust. “Forcibly downloading and uploading souls at a whim, who would condone such a thing?”

“You would!” Cid and Synnove snapped in unison.

“The Praetorium,” Synnove said, jabbing Nero in the kidney with her finger. He yelped and jammed his elbow into her stomach, or tried to, as Synnove was already dancing out of range as she continued: “I distinctly recall you waxing poetic about adding mine and my sisters’ power to the Ultima Weapon!”

(Tyr reared up from his loaf shape to sit on his hindlegs; Heron, leaning over him, jerked back in surprise. The topaz carbuncle stared down at his stomach and carefully poked it with one paw.

Poke. Poke poke poke. Pooooooooke.

A deeply perturbed little nya? escaped him as he did.)

Nero paused and set down the tablet, then pressed his forefinger against his lips as he searched his memory. “…So I did,” he said at last, grudgingly. “Not my finest moment, descending into full on megalomaniacal mad scientist stereotype.”

“That implies you ever rose from the state in the first place,” Cid muttered. And then wheezed out a curse while doubling over and clutching at his stomach; Nero had taken advantage of Cid’s momentary distraction to ram his bony elbow into the other Garlean’s abdomen.

A ball of shimmering copper wool-and-silk yarn bounced off the side of Nero’s head. Synnove cackled and plucked the ball out of the air, and, without looking, threw it back to Heron. Nero, meanwhile, grumbled wordlessly, but tucked his elbows in and folded his arms across his chest.

(As Heron dropped the yarn back into her bag of sundries, Tyr slowly lowered his front paws to the floor to properly sit, blinking slowly as he did. He looked up at Heron and let out a quiet, very bewildered maow.)

“I am ruthless, not cruel,” Nero growled. “The Ultima Weapon absorbs entities in whole, yes, and I cannot say what happens to those entities while they are held within Ultima. But this?” He gestured to the tablet. “This is—this is using people as little more than batteries, in the most disgusting, agonizing way possible, likely for no other reason that I can discern except that it was likely the easiest way to—to do whatever the sodding hells it is the Legion wants to do. For all the shite I give the pair of you about your standard of ethics, I do have standards, and this is still a gross perversion of science and an unconscionable lack of morality.”

Silence settled on the workshop. Synnove, Cid, and Heron all just looked at Nero with various shades of bemusement.

Nero shifted uneasily, flicking his gaze from Cid, to Synnove, to Heron, and back to Cid to repeat the cycle. Finally. “…What?”

“I’m impressed, Nero,” Cid said. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and he leaned back against the workbench to look at Nero with shrewd blue eyes. “You’ve actually matured. I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Bathe in ceruleum, Garlond.”

“Choke on a lug wrench, Scaeva.”

HI MOMMY!

Synnove shrieked and jumped a fulm in the air, clutching her chest. Nero shoved his chair back to get away from the flailing Highlander, so quickly he rolled over his own toes, and he made a garbled, choked off sound of wordless agony. Cid didn’t have time to get out of the way himself and ended up taking the backrest of the chair into his already abused stomach, knocking the wind from him with another wheeze. Heron did not drop her needles, despite also jumping, but only because a lifetime of friendship with Rereha had trained her otherwise. Tyr jumped to all four feet with a thud!, fur bristling as his gaze darted around the room for a possible threat.

All five gazes swung around to one of the other iron tables in the workshop, the one upon which Synnove had unceremoniously dropped her gear when she and Heron and Tyr had arrived.

Poking out of Synnove’s ubiquitous hip pouch, the flap still buckled shut so that their faintly iridescent heads were forced to stick out from opposite sides, ears twitching in delight and dark eyes huge with glee and utterly heedless of the minor chaos they had wrecked upon the workshop, were Amandina and Roksana.

“What in the—girls, where did you even come from?!” Synnove said, scurrying over to them. She undid the buckle and, now with room to move, the twins tumbled out of the bag with high-pitched giggles.

Hi Mommy hi Mommy hi Mommy hi Mommy hi Mommy, they chanted continuously, leaping into her arms and snuggling close, their six tails between wriggling frantically.

“Synnove,” Cid said, still breathless as he forced himself to stand upright with a wince, “I know you can be more than a little single-minded when you’re on a tear, but surely even you should have noticed two baby carbuncles that have stuffed themselves into one of your pouches.

“This is the one with the void storage metafold,” Synnove hissed, turning around. She was supporting the twins’ chests with her hands and the rest of their bodies along her forearms; Amandina was in her right hand, Roksana in the left. Amandina gently headbutted Synnove’s chin, while Roksana looked around the workshop excitedly.

Cid’s face went blank in the manner that usually preceded him asking a question he would wish he had not in fact asked at all once he had the answer: “…Void storage metafold?”

“Yes,” Synnove said primly, bouncing the twins in her arms. They giggled. “It’s based on the one Khebi built for Carby, though the structure’s internal area is only about three square fulms instead of…whatever nightmare area Carby’s is. All you have to do to make one is calculate the Cartesian coordinates in four dimensions rather than three, then fold the aether along the proper axes and—”

Cid’s eyes were becoming suspiciously glassy.

“—Nero, kick him.”

Nero, using his non-injured foot, immediately did so in Cid’s shin while wearing a gleefully malicious grin. Cid shouted.

“Such an example to set,” Heron said, deadpan.

“Girls?”

The carbunclets chittered together, When Mommy is being petty, we should use it as an example of poor behavior and not emulate it!

“Good girls!”

Amandina and Roksana cheered.

(Wish Mama would take her own advice, Tyr grumbled. Heron made a sympathetic noise and patted him on the head.)

“What the hells was that even for?” Cid said, leaning back up against the work table to pick up his leg and rub his injured shin.

“Your eyes glazed over as I went on a brief aetherology tangent!” Synnove bellowed. (The twins made oooooooo Uncle Cid’s in trouble~ noises.) “I will not have it! You might be an engineering protoyping savant, but your aetherology theory is shite! You have lived in Eorzea for fifteen bloody years, learn some!”

“Your grand idea for overcoming the first line of aetheric defenses of the Crystal Tower was to throw a bloody rock at it.”

“It has been four years, are you ever going to stop harping about that?”

“No!” Nero and Synnove snapped in unison.

“Tangent!” Heron bellowed.

Nero and Synnove grumbled but settled. Cid began the motion of a particularly rude gesture, stopped, and looked at the twins. The twins blinked at him curiously. Cid dropped his hand and crossed his arms with a scowl.

“In any event,” Synnove said, “I left the twins with Khebi and Rere to babysit—stop looking at me like that, you two, Halulu was supervising—and teleported to Revenant’s Toll directly from my office.”

Now she twisted her wrists to turn the carbunclets around to face herself, and Synnove’s expression morphed into exasperated affection as the babies beamed at her. “I waved to you!” she said to them. “You waved back! How did you two get here?!”

We missed you, Mommy! said Amandina.

So, we decided to come find you! said Roksana.

And we tunneled! the black pearl carbuncle peeped excitedly, puffing out her chest in pride.

Yeah! the white pearl carbuncle said, mirroring her sister.

Synnove’s expression melted into faint confusion. The workshop was quiet for a few moments as they all stared at the twins in various degrees of bafflement.

“…Tunneled?” said Synnove, at last.

Yeah! From Elder Cousin!

To your hip pouch!

Synnove’s face blanked. Nero went white, jaw sagging open. Cid’s eyes widened to practically the size of teacup saucers.

Heron and Tyr exchanged bewildered looks.

“Before I say anything else,” said Nero, voice faint as he turned to look at Heron, “is ‘Elder Cousin’ who I think it is?”

“If you mean A’khebica’s Carby,” Heron said slowly, “then yes.”

“Shite,” Nero hissed.

(The twins gasped and covered their mouths with their paws. Bad word!)

“Carby’s a good boy,” Synnove said automatically, the tone of someone who had made the argument before and likely would again. “He’s strange, but he’s a good boy.”

Cid looked at her incredulously. “Just last week you were screaming about having to rummage in his void storage again for your aether chalk and how he was gnawing on your shoulder in retaliation!”

“Carby is not a good boy, Carby is halfway between a constructor-kit outer entity and an unshackled artificial intelligence.”

“He’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is!” Cid and Nero snapped in unison.

“At least Carby understands ethics,” Heron muttered under her breath. Tyr snickered next to her. Then, louder, Heron said: “Tangent.”

“Fine,” Synnove hissed. She closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose slowly; she held the breath for a few heartbeats, then let it out for the same count. When she opened her eyes, she immediately focused on the girls blinking up at her. “You tunneled. From Carby’s void storage metafold to the one in my hip pouch.”

Yes! the girls said.

We got a bit mixed up at first, though, Roksana said, ears drooping.

Yeah, said Amandina. We almost ended up in Tyr instead.

Tyr boofed, flabbergasted, his ears pricked completely upright in shock. That was YOU?

Synnove twitched.

Often as they had traveled through Azys Lla, the quartet of Warriors of Light had come across Allagan nodes glitching, five thousand years of constant functionality having degraded their circuits and systems. One type of cascading error turned the nodes’ vocalizations into a mess of garbled static, the pitch changing mid-word from high and piercing to low and growling, or vice versa. Listening to them had frequently led to the group gritting their teeth as the sounds dug into their minds and scratched like broken orchestrions.

Heron, Nero, Cid, Tyr, and the twins watched the visual equivalent of that noise happen on Synnove’s face. And in the case of Nero and Cid, it was occurring on their own faces, too.

“How?” Synnove said eventually, voice tight with tension.

Amandina and Roksana looked at one another. Amandina flicked an ear, the movement briefly iridizing the black fur on the appendage into deep purple. Roksana shrugged her shoulders, her own white fur momentarily shifting blue and then back. They looked back up at their mama.

We…pushed?

“Pushed.”

Well, first we accessed Elder Cousin’s metafold! Amandina said.

(Nero made a strangled noise of utter horror. Cid slowly slid down the side of the worktable to sit on the floor, knees bent and staring into the middle distance.)

Then we had to orient ourselves, said Roksana. That took a little bit. Elder Cousin’s metafold is very big!

We found Auntie Rere, too, Amandina whispered conspiratorially. We were playing hide and seek earlier. Elder Cousin said he had helped her.

Synnove closed her eyes and bit down on her lip, a snorting snicker briefly escaping her before she regained her self-control. Heron didn’t even bother to maintain the illusion of dignity, merely threw back her head and laughed from deep in her belly; Tyr, meanwhile, simply laid down on the floor and sighed heavily, covering his head with his paws. Nero made another horrified noise. Cid just wheezed.

Elder Cousin helped us, too! He told us about [subspatial aetheric sympathy tension paths].

Synnove froze. Her golden bronze skin had developed a worrying grey cast to it. “Say that again,” she breathed.

Roksana blinked. What? [Subspatial aetheric sympathy tension paths]?

The method by which all of Synnove’s carbuncles communicated with the people they and their mama generally liked wasn’t actual speaking, not with vocal cords and aspirated sounds to form words. Instead, they matched their aetheric harmonics with those of the individuals around them, with the end result being that the combination of the sounds they made, the body language they used, and the intent they held were “translated” into something the Spoken mind translated as “speech.” Most people initially found it odd, but quickly adapted.

This, however, wasn’t that.

Whatever Roksana had tried to tell her mama had…blanked. The concept was too big, too alien, too what the absolute swiving fuck for a meat brain in three dimensions to comprehend without shutting down as a defensive tactic to preserve sanity. But the little carbunclet still spoke, and whatever it was she had said had been further translated into a strange and obvious two-toned overlay of something that wasn’t quite right, but close enough.

Very slowly, Synnove turned her head to look at Nero, practically frothing at the mouth and his hands curled into claws as he grasped at air, and Cid, now aggressively cuddling a wrench he had gotten from one of his pockets like it was a comfort object. Deliberately, with precise enunciation, the arcanist said, “Please tell me I am not the only one who is hearing that harmonic as an approximation and not whatever it is my child is actually saying.”

“I know what those words mean individually,” Cid said. His grip on his wrench was white-knuckled. “I may even know what those words mean together. I am not ready to accept that. And I am most assuredly not ready to know whatever it is they are actually attempting to convey.”

“Blargle,” Nero agreed.

Synnove looked back at the twins. “Continue,” she said. The corner of her left eye kept spasming.

Sooooooo, Amandina began, once we knew where to go and how to sense the other metafolds based on Elder Cousin’s metafold—

“They sensed it?!” Nero yelled, outrage finally returning his ability to use vocabulary. He pushed himself upright and staggered over to Synnove and the twins, raking his hands through his hair. “How in the hells are they able to sense similarly constructed aetheric metafolds when each one is a distinct pocket dimension?!” He suddenly leaned down so he was nose to nose with the twins, frowning severely and blue eyes glimmering with suspicion. In a quieter, but no less manic tone of voice: “How in the hells are you able to sense similarly constructed aetheric metafolds when each one is a distinct pocket dimension?”

Dunno, Uncle Nero, Amandina chirped, wiggling her ears, her fur iridizing back and forth between black and purple once more.

Just can! said Roksana. She reached out and very carefully booped his nose.

Nero’s eyes crossed, staring at the white pearl carbunclet’s paw. He drew back with a huff—but booped her nose in turn, and then Amandina’s. The twins peeped happily.

“And then you pushed,” Cid said from his place on the floor.

Yeah!

It was easy!

It tickled!

And then we were here!

Synnove gazed sightlessly at the far wall, green eyes huge and unblinking. She untwisted her wrists and tucked the girls up against her chest, where they snuggled close. “My babies had a conversation about aetherospatial metaphysics with Carby,” she said in disbelief. “While they were inside his metafold.”

“Before they broke the laws of everything we know about physics and aetherophysics and quantum mechanics and traveled through space-time because they missed you,” Cid helpfully added.

“Congratulations,” Nero said icily. “You have mothered two more constructor-kit outer entities. If the fabric of reality unravels any time soon, I am blaming you.”

Yaaaaaaaaaaay! the twins cheered. The air popped and a bright light flashed between them, and suddenly aetheric confetti in a rainbow of pearlescent hues floated through the air, the pieces dissipating as they landed.

Synnove dropped her gaze to her youngest carbuncles, amused exasperation briefly flitting across her features once more. Nero and Cid also looked at the carbunclets, though without the amusement on their parts. Then the three scientists looked at one another.

And, finally, the hysterical yelling commenced.

Heron let them go at it for a while, finishing up her shawl and casting on a new one with the pretty copper wool-and-silk she had earlier thrown at Nero. After nearly a full bell of non-stop shouting, Biggs and Wedge arrived to investigate, and were dragged into the hysteria once they parsed through the trio talking over one another.

She did not even pretend to understand anything. There was quite a bit about aetherophysics and aetherology that she had picked up simply from knowing Synnove for so many years, but this was far beyond her ken. A few phrases stood out of the verbal melee (“quantum tunneling,” “Keltgeim’s absolutely ludicrous fringe theory about particles,” “aetheric entanglement”), but otherwise it was all Allagan to her.

At the two bell mark, however, with no sign of any of them slowing down, the Hellsguard decided it was time to call in reinforcements.

“Go get Jessie, please,” Heron quietly said to Tyr, “and tell her to bring the hose.”

Tyr boofed, amused. Yes, Aunt Heron! He stood and trotted for the workshop door, disappearing around it with a flick of his tails. The twins waved after him.

Heron eyed the group of frantically yelling nerds and reached up to her linkpearl cuff. She tapped a specific ‘pearl and leaned back in her chair as she waited for the other end to pick up.

A soft click echoed in her ear, and a familiar warm tenor came over the line. “Good afternoon, Heron,” said Aymeric. “What trouble has Synnove gotten into now?”

She probably should start calling her baby sister’s beau for reasons other than ‘come pick her up,’ but today was not that day. “She’s involved in a five-way discussion here at the Ironworks about theoretical physics that may not in fact be as theoretical as previously thought,” she said. “Please come pick her up.”

“Quite a lively discussion, then, as I can hear it,” the Lord Commander said drily. “On a scale of, created a more efficient theorem, to, about to write an “in response to” article rebutting a Thavnairian mathematician, just how manic is she?”

Heron hummed thoughtfully and turned to look over at the yelling scientists. Synnove was alternating with keeping Amandina and Roksana tucked close to her chest and gesticulating wildly with her hands with the twins still in her grasp, the babies going wheeeeeeee! every time with the later. Nero was pulling at his hair and so wild-eyed that she was becoming mildly concerned his eyes would actually pop from his head; her Echo was softly pinging in the way that meant Nero had lost his grasp on Eorzean Common somewhere in his tirade and had slid back into Garlean. Cid had his face in his hands, only raising his head to shout something in incomprehensible technobabble before dropping it back into his palms. Biggs and Wedge weren’t even coherent, with Wedge’s hands flailing so hard they were blurring.

But they all, each and every one but very especially Synnove, had a spark in their eyes that she well knew was going to mean trouble for someone in the near future. Hopefully just Jessie and Thubyrgeim.

“Once she’s calmed down?” Heron said into the linkpearl. “She’ll be at, rewriting the laws of reality.”

Something clattered on the other end of the line—a teacup, more than likely—and Aymeric swore softly, then sighed heavily. “Give me half a bell and I’ll be there to take her home.”

“Thank you,” said Heron cheerfully. “See you soon! Oh, and bring a towel.”

“Ah, hells. At least you warned me this time.” The ‘pearl line closed with a click.

And that was when Jessie entered the workshop, a firehouse braced at her hip. She waved to Heron, and the Hellsguard grabbed her knitting sundries bag and loped for the door.

The twins looked over, pricking their ears, then exchanged a glance. They nodded, and proceeded to wiggle free of Synnove, who was so deep in argument that she didn’t notice her hands emptying. Amandina landed lightly on her feet, but Roksana hit the floor with a soft plop! Her sister grabbed her scruff in her teeth and helped yank Roksana upright, and then the pair were scrambling for the safety of Heron, who scooped them up outside the shop door and dropped the carbunclets into her yarn bag.

With no collateral to worry about, Jessie turned on the hose.

#final fantasy xiv #spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #nero scaeva #cid garlond #oc: synnove greywolfe #oc: dancing heron #synnove's carbuncles #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #also yes synnove's hip pouch is basically a bag of holding just with weight limitations #dt's writing

61 notes · View notes

lolabean1998 · 6 years

Text

Avengers Fanfic - 3rd Super Soldier (Part 4)

That night the whole team gathered for a team meeting and to get to know you. It was nice seeing everyone together, laughing and joking together. It made you think of a loving family, Steve and Bucky cooked up an old recipe from there childhood whilst everyone asked you questions and told stories, you were having too much fun to notice that Steve and Bucky already knew the answers to the questions you were asked. You tried your best to answer every question but there was only so much you could remember about yourself, your memories were spotty and blurred so you found it difficult to talk about your past or explain how you knew things about yourself like your favourite food or colour.

"Ok guy's settle down. Let the poor kid eat in peace, she's supposed to be resting. Doctors orders." Banner called as every one settled around the dinner table. The food was amazing, it was nothing fancy but never the less was incredible, the flavours dancing around in your mouth mixed with the happy family environment gave you an odd feeling of home. It had awoken something deep down inside that you didn't even realise was there, the sense of safety. At this moment, surrounded by new friends, great food and laughter, you felt untouchable, safe, snug... Home.

"What are you grinning at, Cheshire cat?" A young boy called Peter asked, chuckling at the huge grin plastering your face.

"I may be the Cheshire cat but you, my friend, are the caterpillar." You quipped cheerfully, you didn't have an answer to that question yet.

"Oooh, looks like you've got some competition there Sam, looks like Miss Y/N is giving you a run for your money." Peter teased as he helped clear the table.

"Miss Y/N? Jeez you make me sound old, call me Y/N/N!" You smiled making your way over to the sofa with everyone, ready for the movie. You didn't notice Bucky and Steve flinch at the nickname you had given, you had no idea that it was them that had given you the nickname almost a century ago. You found a spot on a sofa a little way from everyone else, all though you'd had a great meal and a laugh with every one you still felt the need to distance yourself a bit from the whole group. They were just so close knit, you didn't want intrude.

"That's not happening!" Bucky stated, picking you up from behind and carrying you over to the sofa right in the middle of the group.

"Bucky,what are you doing? Put me down, rabbit teeth!" You cried, feeling very confused about the reason behind his behaviour, not realising that you had used the nickname you had given him when you were little. Bucky placed you in a spot beside Steve, taking his spot on the other side.

"I grew into my rabbit teeth thank you very much!" Bucky snorted, giving you a cheeky grin to show he was only playing.

"Yeah but it took a good couple of years didnt Buck." Steve blurted through giggles. You sat awkwardly between the two, the feeling that you had missed the obvious washing over you in waves. Bucky noticed you stiff posture and pulled you towards him a little, rubbing your arm to reassure you.

"Will you clowns shut it so we can start the movie!" Tony called throwing a handful of popcorn your way.

"Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right, here i am, stuck in the middle with you." You sang just loud enough for Bucky and Steve to hear, pulling a very surprised glance from the pair of them. "What? I know stuff!" You claimed defensively. You spent the night watching Star Wars with the rest of the team, throwing popcorn to Peter whenever he came out with random facts about the movie. At some point during the night Bucky's arm had wrapped around your shoulders pulling you closer and you had snuggled comfortably into his side. The pair of you remained in that position for the entire night, too absorbed in the movie and eachothers warmth to notice the silent bets being made beneath your noses. When the movie marathon was finally over, the team dispersed disappearing to their rooms for some much needed sleep. Steve and Bucky walked you to your new room making sure you were ok before heading to their own rooms. It was plain and simple but Tony had still managed to kit it out with some great technology you didn't understand, the walls were bright and cheerful, the bed was soft and comfy, dressed in your favourite colour. There was a small desk tucked in the corner by the glass wall overlooking achres of green behind a gorgeous outdoor swimming pool. You scanned the room, looking for any other possible entry points besides the door, checking the onsuite bathroom pulling down the shower curtain as you went. Every one knows knows that's the first place a murderer would hide, Duh. Once you were certain the room was safe, you threw on the pair of pale blue pyjamas the were neatly folded on your bed and snuggled into bed, Closing your heavy eyes and swiftly drifting off to sleep. You hadn't been asleep long when the nightmares began again. Flashes of long needles pushing into your veins and different doctors and scientists all wearing that same cruel, blood chilling grin, rapidly became clearer and clearer until it felt as though she was there relieving the torture. The sound of your own screaming freed you from the haunting horrors of your past. Your once fluffy pyjamas now clung to your sweat soaked skin, the duvet had been launched across the room and was now covering the desk and there were several fist shaped dents in the concrete wall above your bed. You lay there for a moment catching your breath and gathering some form of composure before deiciding to take a cold shower, throw on a pair of jogging bottums and a sports bra and head to the training room.

You walked silently down the corridor opting to take the stairs instead of risking waking anyone with the unnecessarily loud ping of the elevator. The training room was dark and empty, with only the equiptment to keep you company. A punch bag in the corner of the gym caught your eye and you knew it was the perfect distraction from the night mares. You wandered cautiously over, keeping the lights off so you wouldn't draw attention if someone was to walk past. After scooting carefully past the rest of the equiptment you reached the large punch bag, although it looked brand new it already had several odd patches over it from being beaten by super humans with metal arms you figured. Taking a deep calming breath you took your position before dealing the bag a powerful blow to the centre, quickly followed by a procession of fierce hits and kicks. Allowing you body to take control and putting full force into every punch and kick, the memories of your H.Y.D.R.A training flooding back with each move you used. The memory of your first training session hitting you with full force, the yelling from the perverted commander ringing loud and clear in your ears, the teeth shattering jolt of electricity from the tazer stick they used running through your body like it did every time they used it. Muscle memory is a gift to most people but those few, it is the greatest curse of all. The memory of the high voltage tazer they used, had you dropping to the floor and foaming at the mouth reflecting the fits that foul weapon would induce. The fear of being tazed again had you up and fighting again the minute you regained control of your body, each time you rose your hits would be harder and more precise, splitting each bag you used. You didn't know how long you had been there, reliving the same memory over and over again unable to escape but judging by the thick layer of sweat on your skin and the foam by your mouth it had been a good couple of hours. You lay fitting and foaming at the mouth when Bucky arrived, he too had been suffering from nightmares. It wasn't until he turned the gym lights on that he saw you shaking on the floor, foam oozing out your mouth and every muscle in your body twitching and tensing making the veins in your face and neck pop with rage. He instinctively rushed over to wake you from your trance. By the time he reached you, you were already up on your feet and back to attacking the punch bag in front of you, handing it a powerful upper cut and splitting yet another bag. He could hear you muttering words of instruction to yourself as you changed the bag, but they were odd, you weren't talking to yourself you were repeating the demands of some one else.

"Y/N, Y/N, it's not real you can stop. Come home Y/N!" Bucky soothed carefully edging closer to you, his movements slow so he wouldn't startle you. He knew startling you would cause even more trouble. But just as he got within a couple of feet, the instructions changed, you were reliving another memory, triggered by his approach. Before he knew what was happening you had spun round to face him and were throwing punchs and kicks left, right and centre. Without meaning to Bucky had started a battle he desperately didn't want to fight, but you were relentless the instructions being bellowed at you were slipping off your lips like a mantra. "Come on doll, i need you to wake up! This isn't real!" Bucky called but you were too far gone, he was out of options. He skillfully brought the fight to the mats, where you couldn't as much damage, the whole time using defensive moves so he didn't harm you. "F.R.I.D.A.Y I'm going to need some help down here." he called helplessly.

"I have notified the Team, they are on their way!" F.R.I.D.A.Y replied almost immediately.

"Come on Y/N stop this please. You're home doll, you're home!" Bucky continued trying to get through to you, trying to pull you from the horrors that had engulfed you. Within seconds, the team arrived, bursting through the door. Banner's face immediately crumpled into an angry glare when he saw, Y/N fighting Bucky. "Come on doll, i really need you to stop now. If you don't Banner's gunna kill me." Bucky pleaded, dodging several different moves from a multitude of different martial arts. Sam and Peter went to help Bucky but were hurriedly pulled back by Steve and Banner.

"If we go in now we're only going to freak her out more, we need to think about this instead of going in guns blazing." Steve commanded, looking back up to see you rapidly becoming more and more aggressive, Bucky had no choice, he was going to have to fight. "You're going to have to fight back, it's the only way you get out of this Bucky." Your fist faultered at the mention of Bucky's name, somewhere deep inside you heard. Seeing this gave Steve an idea. "Ok here's the plan." Steve spun round to face the team, "Parker, i need you and Clint on those beams, on my mark, fire to disable only and avoid any tazers. Vision you and Wanda jumpin once the rest of use have her held down, i need you to step in if we can't get through to her. the rest of you surround the mats and make sure you go unnoticed. Let's go." The team split up, taking their designated posts,waiting for the signal. Bucky continued talking to you and trying to reach you, he couldn't help thinking he could have prevented all of this if he had just stayed with you. Once Bucky had guided you to the centre of the room Steve gave to signal, Parker and clint immediately fired, covering you in webs and nets. As soon as you were down the rest of the group launched into action, pinning you down so Banner could give you a sedative. The second the needle touched your skin you let out a petrified scream, the fear in your voice sent Bucky flying to the rescue tearing the needle from Banners hand before it could pierce the skin.

"We do this the hard way with out needles or people snooping around in her head." Bucky insisted, the sound of your terrified screams and the raw determination in your struggle for freedom was too much to handle. "Hey Y/N/N, i need you to come home now. Its Bucky and Steve, we're here to take you home." Bucky soothed, his flesh arm softly stroking your wet hair.

"Leave him alone. Leave him alone." You mumbled, repeating the words over and over but this was different from what you had been saying before hand, this was from a much earlier memory.

"The bullies are gone now Y/N/N, you can go home now. They've gone there's no need to fight any more sweetie. Let Bucky take you home." Nat insisted softly, She had caught onto the memory that was now flashing through your mind. You were back home, squaring up to group of boys bigger and older than you, standing up for a kid you'd never met. She gave Bucky a gentle nudge with her foot, signalling for him to countinue, your screaming had subsided entirely now and your mumbles were getting quieter with every verse.

"It's time to come home doll. You were great, but its time to go home." Bucky whispered, your head now rested on his lap, the finger tips of his flesh hand tracing patterns up and down your arm.

"Come on Y/N/N, you're going to make Rabbit Teeth late for dinner." Steve added, keeping his voice warm and soft. You were almost home, almost back to reality but something dark still had a firm grasp on you setting in another wave of terror. Your panicking limbs fought against the webs and bodies hold them down.

"I WANNA GO HOME! LET ME GO! LET ME GOOOO!" You shrieked, the force of your voice tearing at your vocal cords as you kicked and screamed for your freedom.

"Pull her out!" Steve commanded, giving Vision and Wanda permission to dive into her mind. The pair linked hands before searching through the hellish maze of you mind for you. They found you trapped in a strange glass box covered in ice, screaming to be let out, Wanda didn't hesitate to shatter the glass box and grab a firm hold of your wrist, nodding to Vision to pull them out when she was ready. Your body froze as you zoomed through your mind past the doors to your nightmares and the reaching arms desperately trying to pull you into a torture chamber from your past, landing back into reality with a wheezing gasp and a thud.

"Y/N! Are you ok? How are you feeling? What hurts?" Bucky rushed, the second your eyes opened.

"My eye's." You groaned, staring up at Bucky's worried face. "My eye's hurt!" Bucky looked at you in confusion, he thought you're hands or head would be the first thing to come to mind. "But the pain will go once i stop looking at your ugly mug." You teased giving him a cheeky but painful grin. "What the fuck are you guys doing and why do i feel like I've been hit by 14 buses?" You questioned feeling exceptionally confused as to why everyone was sat around staring at you in the training room in the middle of the night. The team released your limbs, allowing you to sit up and give Bucky a peck on the cheek for being a good sport.

"Y/N what exactly do you remember?" Tony asked in his signature tone pulling a very confused look from you tired and sweaty face.

"Um, going to bed!" You stated matter of factly, feeling more confused by the second.

"So you don't remember anything at all about the last few hours?" Tony asked with concern, you didn't find this amusing any more, you're body hurt all over, you were drenched in sweat and Bucky had several bruises dotted across his face and arm. You sat there in silence for a moment, taking stock of your injuries; broken hand, bruised elbows, legs and feet, bloody knuckles, bruise to the back of your head and what felt like dried foam on the edge of your mouth. What the hell have you been up to girl? It was almost like Bucky had read your mind because just as you opened your mouth to speak he cut you off.

"You had a really bad night terror and took it out on a few punch bags until i stopped you and focused your attention on me." He explained carefully, making sure he didn't trigger any more nasty memories.

"Let's get you cleaned up!" Nat suggested when you struggled to remember what happened, she thought it was best to keep your mind off the the last couple of hours. You nodded in agreement before clambering to your feet.

"Good idea you stink!" Bucky teased covering his nose as he helped you up, your legs were sore and it hurt to stand, you tried to walk but stumbled over after the first two steps, the strength in your legs had been completely drained away and even your super human healing was struggling. Vision quickly swept you up in his arms before you could fall again whilst Bucky waited with Steve an Tony, watching as everyone went back to bed leaving the three of them alone together.

"Why has this only just happened now? Why not when she was healing? What changed?" Tony pondered, the vision of you screaming in fear on the floor still front and centre in his mind.

"We left her to sleep on her own. When she was recovering people were checking in on her all the time, this is the first time she's been alone." Steve pointed out after a moments thought.

"But what about during the night? Who was with her then?" Tony questioned, desperately trying to get to the bottum of your nightmares.

"I was, she was in my room. When ever she started talking or moving in her sleep, I'd tell her she was ok and hold her hand. She was so easily brought back i didn't think this would happen!" Bucky explained, guilt weighing heavy in his voice.

"This wasn't your fault Buck, you couldn't have known this was going to happen. None of us did." Steve reassured as the three men headed back to their rooms. Just as they were making their way down the corridor leading to their rooms they were met by Banner and Wanda.

"We need to talk!" Banner declared seriously, his face was twisted into a worried and sad expression.

"I'll leave you guys to it. I need to see if Y/N's ok." Bucky admitted before heading down to your room at the other end of the corridor. The group waited for him to be out of ear shot before continuing.

"What i saw in her mind, was horrifying. The traumas she's been through are taking over the memories of her past, the memories with you." Wanda reported with a heavy heart, the horrors she saw in your mind were enough to make her head explode.

"There's something else as well." Banner added, placing a comforting hand on Wanda's shoulder, he knew what she had to say next was going to shake the team to the core.

"She escaped with a USB full of all their mission plans, she hid it somewhere but the only way to find it is to make her remember." Wanda explained, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as she spoke. She could feel all the pain you had felt, see all the memories you had blocked out and it was crushing her.

"And if she remembers the chances of her surviving are slim." Banner finished, he knew that reliving the horrors of your past would destroy you.

Masterlist

13 notes · View notes