Chapter 3

Yns POV:
“What were you thinking?” I feel worry set deep in my stomach. Peter rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Its not MY fault you got so hurt” Im pacing unsteadily thinking of all the worst possible scenarios. “What did you tell them?” Tonys face is painted with worry, when he decides to pipe up “i urge you to sit down, its really important for your recovery” I look him up and down and sit in a chair. “I dont think thats my most pressing issue, ive had worse than a vase to the face” Tony gives me a sorrowful look that i ignore. “What did you tell them?” “Nothing, i swear” i glance back at tony “How do you know you can even trust these people?” He looks at me bewildered “yn do you not know who they are?” “Believe it or not i dont look at social media much considering i only own a flip phone” Tony gasps dramatically. “How. Do. You. Live.” I shake my head but carry on “it doesnt matter we need to go before he finds out” I lightly grab peters arm and steer him towards the door when Tony steps infront of us. “Sorry, no can do. You need rest” I furrow my eyebrows and step closer. “I can take you in a fight, ive had my fair share, so move. Before i make you.” He looks between me and peter before slowly side stepping and letting us go.

Peter helped us find our way out and i start hitting his arm lightly as we walk to the car. “Hey! Whats that for?” He protests. I get in the car and he starts driving back. “We are so dead. I made it 20 years without dying and now here we are. The living dead.” “Dont be so dramatic. And besides i had to do something!” The rest of the car journey is silent and we sit in the car for a few minutes, eerily waiting to go inside.

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Tonys POV:
I pinch the bridge of my nose before strolling out to the sea of perplexed faces in the briefing room. Bruce unexpectedly speaks first. “We arent a hospital, he cant just use us for our medical knowledge and expect us to do nothing” Nat speaks next, “His sister took the brunt of it, which says a lot, they’re lucky they haven’t died”. I sigh and sit in the wheely chair at the head of the table, deflated. “I dont know what to do. They wont listen to me!” Steve offers his annoyingly helpful insight. “Go there see the father, maybe build a case, talk to them. Just make them listen. If theres a lady in a burning building who refuses to leave because of photos, you dont give up and leave her there, do you? No, you pick her up and save her.” I think about it for a second and realise hes right. “Did you get all of this “insight” from your adventures at your care home, old man?” “Ha, ha. Very funny Stark.” We decide to go our separate ways and work again, when Nat follows me into my office. “Romanoff what an unpleasant surprise, how may i not help?” She rolls her eyes, “im offering my help on this, Yelena is doing great thanks to you, i want to return the favour.” “So shes fitting in well then?” Her sister came to live here a month ago. Shes been really quiet. Annoyingly quiet. I dont think ive heard her speak, which if you ask Nat is very unusual. She doesnt even come to meetings. “I wish she would involve herself more, but shes working on it. Peters like a son to you, so please lets work on this together.” Im in no place to reject help so i lose what dignity i have left and accept. “Thanks Romanoff, its appreciated. And your sister is only 21, shes experienced alot, its gonna take her some time.” She pulls a funny face at me. “Are you being nice? When did you turn into a massive softy?” “Help or leave” She laughs, “okay, okay, i was just joking.” We work for a few hours looking into the history of peters dad, his mom died when he was younger. Im not sure how, but it wouldnt surprise me if his dad was behind it. Hes been showing up with bruises since i met him, but i thought that was just patrols until today. He refuses to confess what his father has been doing, but there has to be some proof somewhere.

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Peters POV:
Did i do something wrong by getting help? I know shes just trying to keep us safe, but im 17 now, im not a kid. I think about all the times shes saved me over the years as we edge towards the door. She puts her finger to her lips, silencing me as she silently sneaks in. I feel like a scared little kid just waiting here. I could hurt him. Seriously hurt him. Or worse. Something stops me every time though. Maybe its because deep down hes still my dad. Maybe its because i dont want to be like him. I let my thoughts wander for a moment before i hear smashing, i listen out for yns voice, but she never speaks. I put my hand to the doorknob but look through the peep hole instead. There she is cuts all over her face from the vase (shes lucky she wasnt blinded) and he looms over her. Ive seen that look on her face only a few times before. Its hatred. Pure unadulterated hatred. Almost murderous. Whatever he did or said it was worse than before. I hold my breath when i see her swing her tiny fist at him and i swear for a second the whole world stopped. He looks at her, completely shocked before he grabs her by the throat and starts to tighten his deathly grip.

Authors note: sorry again for the short cahpters, just decided to start the story again. Let me know if you think i should carry on.