The Secret Asgardian (An Avengers Fanfiction)

Chapter 43: Tortured Memories

43. Tortured Memories

Two weeks.

Two whole weeks.

Talk about going stir-crazy.

I banged my head against the stone wall again, making it an even ten number of hits. I thought I could just see a tiny crack appearing in the stone, but my blurry vision from the impact wasn’t too reliable.

“Firefly, don’t do that. Brain cells are valuable.”

I turned slightly, glancing over at Tony, who sat leaning against the far wall and watching me with a pained expression. His normally trim goatee had grown out now and dark stubble had appeared, giving him a more rugged look - which I personally thought was a pretty good look for him. However, there were dark circles under his eyes from the sleepless nights.

A few days ago, they had started a new regime instead of letting us wallow in misery and gloom – they had begun to torture us. Funnily enough, it seemed like Loki did have some form of heart, as Diana was thankfully excused from this.

It had started with Thor. They had taken him away for a few hours, to a room just down the corridor, and his pained shouts were audible despite the thick wooden door. When he had finally returned he could barely stand. There was blood everywhere. At least he had his healing power.

When it was Tony’s turn the next night, I could hear his screams from my cell.

The only thing I could do was watch as they dragged him back to his cell, and left him slumped against the wall, unconscious and bleeding slightly. I couldn’t even heal him. The pain I had felt in that moment was excruciating.

If I could, I would have taken the pain onto myself.

Almost on cue with my thoughts, I heard footsteps approaching my cell. It was time for my first torture session tonight. Fear shot through me, but I kept a neutral expression on my face as Clint opened the cell door.

“Is it time for my torture already? I was beginning to enjoy the boredom,” I remarked casually, and Clint gripped my arm, hauling me forward.

I stumbled along behind him, and met Tony’s dark eyes for a brief moment before we passed his cell. Thor was watching with an agonised expression, dried blood in his hair and a long scar on his cheek. Diana was staring blankly at the wall, rocking slightly on her bed. She didn’t even notice me, and her plate of dried bread and cup of water sat untouched beside her door.

We passed a snoring Peter and he looked strangely innocent as he slept, head on the table.

When we reached the dreaded door, Clint pulled it open, shoved me through, and then slammed it shut it again. I stumbled forward and landed heavily on my knees. When I looked up, Loki was towering over me, grinning wickedly, and Bruce was across the room, watching silently and holding a long needle in his hand.

My father grabbed hold of the collar of my armour and hauled me up, lifting me off the ground. My toes dangled about an inch above the floor, and my eyes widened as Loki held me up with ease. There was no point in struggling. Even if I was at my full strength and potential, I doubted that I could have beaten Loki in the strength department.

“What, aren’t you going to fight back?” He asked me silkily.

“How can I fight back when I’ve been poisoned?” I managed to gasp out, and he launched me across the room. I hit the stone wall hard, and struggled to me feet dizzily.

“You’re pathetic. Even Thor fought back – and yet you can’t,” He told me scathingly.

“I’m not going to fight you, father.”