Heroine ϟ Marvel [3]

7.2

CHAPTER TWO

Hope and Hank

- - - - -

"Hey, sleepyhead..."

Ana sat up, reaching up to rub her eyes of the grogginess she felt. Her mind was in a blur, and she couldn't get ahold of her senses completely. She yawned, stretching her arms up until they hit something. That was when Ana realised her seat was shaking. Her eyes flew open and she looked down at her body, hands flying to the seatbelt across her torso. She was in a car. How did she get in a car? The last thing Ana remembered was nodding off on Scott's couch in his house at two in the morning. Sunlight hit the side of her face, meaning it had been hours since then. Before she could start panicking about being kidnapped, a feminine hand rested on her shoulder, and Ana glanced to the driver beside her. And she squinted, not believing her vision.

"Hope?"

The woman smiled, somewhat guiltily, towards Ana. She didn't think Scott would have company when she sneaked into his home after the voicemail he left Hank, and when she realised it was Ana, she thought to take the Warrior for an extra pair of hands. Hank and Hope were on the run because of the Sokovia Accords. They were constantly moving from place to place while still working nonstop at a chance to get Janet Van Dyne back from the Quantum Realm. They had an unbreakable belief that Janet was well and truly alive, and it was what kept them both going. Hank was working hard to bring back his wife, and Hope was equally as determined to reconnect with her mother.

Hope focused back onto the road, glancing back at Ana from time to time. "Sorry about taking you also. But I figured if you woke up and Scott wasn't in the house that you'd go to the authorities and we couldn't take that chance." She explained.

Ana placed a fist over her churning stomach, grimacing at the vomiting sensation that slithered up her throat. She could never handle being drugged well, something about her strange body systems. When Ana hadn't replied, Hope looked to her, and winced. Ana's face was clear of colour, and sweat started to line her forehead. Without saying anything, Hope rolled down Ana's window and picked up a plastic bag from the glovebox. Ana took the bag and emptied last night's dinner, groaning at how unpleasant she felt in the moment.

"How much... did you... use?" Ana asked Hope in-between breaths, referring to the tranquilliser.

"Five times more than Scott." Hope replied in an apologetic tone. "I remember how you told me about your tougher systems."

"That'll do it." Ana murmured, rinsing her mouth out with water from a bottle Hope handed her. "You coulda just told me about whatever it is you're doing and I would've helped you, Hope." She shot the Van Dyne a stern look, though it didn't stick since she melted into an expression of worry.

"I know, and again, sorry." Hope replied.

"You look good." Ana mentioned. She pointed at Hope's sleek black hair. It grew a lot since the last time they saw each other. "I like the hair. It's nice."

"Thanks." Hope smiled. "I wish I can say the same for you, but you look like hell."

"That's very sweet of you, thanks." Ana responded dryly.

"You getting any sleep lately?" Hope questioned, noticing the bags under her eyes.

Ana paused and thought momentarily about what to say. Then she realised it wasn't the time nor place to get into that lengthy conversation. So, Ana simply said, "It's complicated."

"I'll bet." Hope breathed out.

"How's Hank?" Ana asked.

"Buried in work. I'll explain more about it later because our friend in the back is beginning to wake up." Ana realised Scott was starting to wake up and turned to face him.