Chapter 8 - Stream Mercy by Shawn Mendes

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Arya's pov

"M-mother," I freeze, my knife now weakly held in the vague area of the Russian's neck.

"Yes, my child, I am, and I instil that you trust them. σας παρακαλούμε (please)."

I begin to have an internal battle over whether I should continue to fight and complete my mission or listen to my mother, but before I can decide an answer, my vision goes dark.

1 week later

"She's been out for a week, Bruce," a male voice swims into my subconscious and I begin to open my eyes, careful to keep them only open enough for me to take in my surroundings and for them to not notice that I'm awake, "do you think this is permanent?"

"Tony, for all we know, she could be like this for years. This is no type of medically or trauma induced coma I've ever seen or heard of. If what you say is true - that there was some sort of higher presence involved - then, medically, there's not much we can do." An unfamiliar male voice echos around what looks to be a large room, yet both voices appear to be ever so slightly muffled.

"When she wakes up, remind her she's not a prisoner. This," a short pause, "is merely a precaution."

"That's what you said for my cage, Stark, 'just a precaution'" the other man scoffs.

And with that, Starks footsteps recede, followed minutes later by another pair, most likely Bruce.

I'm lying on my back and I stare up at the ceiling blankly. There's a war inside my mind and I can't decide which side I'm on.

Slowly, and much to my appreciation, I fall back to sleep.

Or so I thought.

"I taught you to be strong, daughter, to not be easily swayed. You betrayed us today. You betrayed yourself. All these months, we've been working towards a better future for you, one where you can put your mother's cursed party tricks to some use. But now you waver," the oily voice of my father coos from all directions. The accusing tone in his voice; the belittling tone I'd gotten so used to.

"When, not if, when you return, we shall be waiting. All roads have bumps, but those experiences make you stronger in the long run. You shall be HYDRA's greatest asset. The Winter Soldier's alliance has wavered but yours will not.

Come home, my daughter, and you shall be... rewarded."

His emotionless laugh, which came out as more of a bark, is the last this I hear before, against all my training, I wake with a start.

I sit bolt upright, ignoring the pain... everywhere, breathing heavily. The monotonous 'beep, beep, beep' of an ECG is all that I can hear.

I lower myself slowly back into a relaxed position and try to fall back to sleep.

"Azara, you're awake." The one and only Tony Stark's voice approaches.

"Yes, it appears I am."

"How are you?" He asks, genuine concern laced into his voice. That's not something I got back hom- back in Sokovia.

"Enough with the niceties, Stark, let me out of here peacefully and I may spare you all to see another day." I threaten, knowing that it would be difficult to follow through on but not impossible.

"Well, if you look around your room, there're no shadows. You can't leave."

"'She's not a prisoner',"
I laugh a little at my admittedly quite good impression of him, sitting up and displaying no emotion or reaction to the blinding headache I have, "I heard you and Bruce's little chinwag earlier, and, to absolutely no one's surprise: it's absolute bullshit."

I rip the IV out of my arm and come to face to face with him by the glass.

"I know you think you can rehabilitate me like a back street junky on meth, or another one of your 'Make the Lying, Cheating Tony Stark Look Better' charity cases. But you can't."

There is a flash hurt in his eyes but he covers it up quickly in a weak attempt to mask his emotions.

Without another word, he turns and walk out of the door before stopping with his hand on the handle.

"We - I, will help you Azara, I promise." His eyes held a loyal and genuine gleam.

"Hail. HYDRA." I spit, my words not holding the full amount of conviction that they should.

He doesn't even look back before quickly walking out.

I slide down the wall and lean my head back. A shaky breath rattles my lungs and I tap repeatedly and rhythmically on my knee.

I begin to hum quietly.

The humming turns to a whisper and the whisper turns into a quiet voice.

Natasha's pov

I sit on the desk chair in the surveillance room. Alone.

Not to sound creepy, but watching her sleep is calming. She's not fighting, she's not hurting.

She's just... sleeping.

"Hail. HYDRA." her voice shakes slightly, not wholly convincing me she means that fully, but Tony leave with haste and looks hurt.

I sit and watch as she slides down the wall, tapping what appears almost anxious rhythms on her knee.

The mics in the room are good and I begin to hear a faint hum that grows to a quiet, yet clearly audible voice.

You've got a hold of me
Don't even know your power
I stand a hundred feet
But I fall when I'm around ya

Her voice is clear, like a spring morning, yet also soft and effortless.

Show me an open door
Then you go and slam it on me
I can't take anymore
I'm saying, baby

Her voice is slightly louder yet not louder than a normal speaking voice.

Please have mercy on me
Take it easy on my heart
Even though you don't mean to hurt me
You keep tearing me apart
Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart?
Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart?

I'm transfixed. She seems in a world of her own and I get to glimpse it. I vaguely remember Tony saying there was a worn and evidently well used piano in the corner of her apartment in Queens.

I'd drive through the night
Just to be near you, baby
Heart open, testify
Tell me that I'm not crazy

I'm not asking for a lot
Just that you're honest with me
My pride is all I got
I'm saying, baby

The lyrics seem to have more meaning than just the same words on a page.

Please have mercy on me
Take it easy on my heart
Even though you don't mean to hurt me
You keep tearing me apart
Would you please have mercy on me

There cleanness of her voice becomes crisper and emotion is pouring out at the seams.

The camera angle changes and I see her eyes. They're staring intently at the far wall and appear to be pleading to someone or something.

I'm a puppet on your strings
And even though you got good intentions
I need you to set me free
Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart?
Would you please have mercy, mercy on my heart?

On the camera, I glimpse what appears to be a single, glistening tear. For a super soldier - for HYDRA super soldier no
less - showing emotion is futile: there's no sympathy or support, it just makes you look weak and your job just gets harder. Just like the Red Room.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs
Ripping all the skin from off my bones
I'm prepared to sacrifice my life
I would gladly do it twice

'I'm prepared to sacrifice my life'. If it's for the right cause, soldiers and people like us would. If we care enough for the people it would help, we would do it. It's our duty. But I can't help but feel as if it isn't HYDRA that she's talking about - not just in my attempt to find som flimsy optimism - but she looks far from the brainwashed soldier in Sokovia.

Consuming all the air inside my lungs
Ripping all the skin from off my bones
I'm prepared to sacrifice my life
I would gladly do it twice

Oh, please have mercy on me
Take it easy on my heart
Even though you don't mean to hurt me
You keep tearing me apart
Would you please have mercy on me?
I'm a puppet on your string
And even though you got good intentions
I need you to set me free

Again, specific lyrics, like the last line, make me wonder if this is just a song; just foreign words from someone else's perspective or something more. If she's trapped in a HYDRA-created mind, I know Tony; Steve; Bruce; me: we'll try everything to help.

I learned to own my brainwashed state, but I was like this since a child. I don't even know what there would be left of me if you tried to wipe away my life prior to the Avengers, prior to when Clint spared me.

I'm begging you for mercy, mercy
I'm begging you, begging you, please, baby
I'm begging you for mercy, mercy
Ooh, I'm begging you, I'm begging you, yeah

As she trails off and stares motionless at the same spot and the cold, hardened eyes of HYDRA return, I feel unwanted tears sting my eyes.

I'm not one for poetic symbolism and dramatic emotional expression, but this seemed personal. This seemed like the real Azara: the sarcastic kid from Queens who liked the view of the clouds.

Azara's pov

I know for a fact there'll be cameras in here. I know for a fact someone is watching; listening.

But, when my voice can't utter another word in fear of it breaking, I feel free. I feel... emotions.

"Hail. HYDRA."

The words lacked what they should have: pride. I spent many an hour listening to my father drone on and on about 'the pride of HYDRA'. He seemed convinced. He seemed proud.

I never did. It was duty and it was my job. Even if I'd wanted in in the first place, I could never have just said: "hey dad, can I have an early retirement? Bora Bora sounds nice; you should visit", when I got bored of it.

"Come home, my daughter, and you shall be... rewarded."

Once again, his words held two meanings. One: his meaning. Two: what I want it to mean.

The first one is him asking me to return to HYDRA and continue being his puppet. The other: to find my home; find out where I belong.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a tannoy sounding outside, calling all Avengers to the main meeting lounge.

I sigh, looking around at my glass prison, pitying whoever made this so diligently, making sure nothing created a shadow.

Yet they don't know my party trick. The one that HYDRA had suggested mere weeks into my 'training'.

I merge with my own shadow.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, 'congratulalatu-fucking-lations Peter Pan, you can look like more of a circus freak than you already do'.

But I 'walk' to glass wall until my shadow-head pokes out onto the floor outside of the cell.

And I unmerge out of my head, successfully outside of my prison. I laugh softly to myself at just how easy that was and step into a nearby shadow.

I appear in the corner of a busy room, full of all of the Avengers and a couple of other familiar and also unfamiliar faces.

"She's talking, which is good. But HYDRA is still in her head. But I know we can help her, I promised her." Tony speaks will emotion laced in his voice and I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at just how transparent he is with his inner emotional turmoil.

But again, it feels... nice to be truly cared about.

"I don't know if it's the same as Bucky in DC, but it's just going to take time. But Tony, we will help her, ok." Captain America spoke with conviction and sympathy.

I know all about the precious Winter Soldier and his little escapade, saving Steve from drowning.

"Natasha, you look like you want to say something." Tony turns slightly in his chair.

"No." Yes. She wasn't fooling anyone. For the most infamous of the elite Black Widows, she was too easy to read.

"Ok, well, to get our minds off of it I propose a party." Tony speaks with a little bit more energy.

"To celebrate what exactly?" Steve asks.

"Getting back the sceptre and, uh, because why do we really need an excuse to party?" Tony grins slightly.

"Well, as long as Azara is safe and doesn't try to escape, then... sure." Steve says.

"I know, she my top priority too, so please, if anyone think of anything that may help..." everyone around the table nods.

"You know," against my better judgment, I step out of my hiding place in the shadows, "it's rude to talk about people behind their backs."

They all turn and arm themselves quicker than I thought possible for a bunch as lazy as them, the famed Avengers discussing party plans as people die and HYDRA scheme.

"And you try to convince me that I'm not a prisoner." I laugh a little.

"H-how did you get out of your cell?" Bruce asks warily.

"What happened to 'hello', 'how are you', 'my name is'? What happened to that?" I stride across the room, sarcasm being my first port of call per usual.

"Hi, I asked that earlier and you know who I am." Tony says calmly.

"Sadly, that is true, I do know who you are. And as for how I got out, I really do have to compliment whoever designed and made my cell, because it was great. For someone else. You don't know all of my powers. And you never shall."

The room falls silent, playing a silent game of hot potato deciding who's going to speak next.

"Your mother, who is she?" Of all the people to talk, the silently assessing Black Widow wasn't my first bet.

"Azra, Greek goddess of the shadows."

They all look stunned either by my straight answer, the fact my mother is a goddess or both.

"Do you know her?" She words it carefully.

"No."

"Who did this," she gestures in my vague direction, "to you?"

"You just gestured to all of me."

"Who made you... HYDRA?" Again, she picks her words like delicate roses.

"My father."

"You did this out of loyalty to him? Love for your father?"

I chuckle slightly, "You of all people, daughter of the Red Room, should know who love is for, Romanova." I cock a questioning eyebrow in her direction, urging her to react and to respond.

"It's Romanoff."

"Is it really? Is it reaaaally, though?" I drag out my words as I approach her slowly.

"And love is for children."

"That is one thing we can agree on, little spider." I smirk at her valiant yet rapidly failing attempt to keep a poker face.

"And Mr Stark, I will be leaving now, so thank you for... your lack of hospitality."

"Where will you go?" He looks at me with pleading eyes but even he know he cannot contain my powers to keep me here.

"It's funny, you asked that the night when I came to thank you."

His eyes lit up with a slight sense of hope, "you remember?"

I pause, looking down at the ground as I try to recall the memory, not knowing what it was.

"No." I frown slightly.

His small, hopeful smile fades slightly.

"You're starting to remember. Please, let us help you." He begs, taking a few cautious steps towards me.

"I cannot. I will hurt someone." I look him dead in the eye and pray that they don't betray me.

"So you run again? From your problems?" He asks.

"I cannot run from something that is eternally connected to me. I'm just lessening the collateral damage."

He sighs and looks dejectedly at the floor.

"You know kid, every night I was in the tower, I would wait up. I would wait up for you to visit. But you never did. You made a promise and you broke it. I won't." I'm taken aback by his sudden openness.

"Collateral damage." Is all I reply with.

He doesn't say anything, but just turns and walks out.

I can't bare to look at the others so I turn and walk into the shadows, but not before ripping off my HYDRA patch from my jacket sleeve and throwing to the ground.

"Hail HYDRA." I mutter bitterly, knowing the others heard.

I'm not going to my father's home in Sokovia, London nor Queens. But to wherever my mind takes me.


Hey guysssssss! I'm thinking of one of 3 options for another book so:

Nat x OC Stark (daughter)

Nat x OC Rogers (sister)

Nat x OC Odindottir (This is the one I picked so check out 'I'm Lying to You' on my profile)

Or another? (suggestions??)

Thanks again,

Much love, Shrimpward xx

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