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What was the Triskelion has become an unmitigated disaster. And the mood around the site has been about the same. Fortunately, most injuries incurred had been minor, and most of those that had them recovered quickly. Which is how Doctor Ross managed to get away from the Hospital in Astoria. Thanks to the quick changes amongst the staff, the alterations in the chain of command as a result, and the general need to have someone at SHIELD Science division — specifically that involving medicine and chemicals — oversee how things are going, Betty drew the short straw.
Standing beside the now shielded chemicals, Betty stares at the gaseous radiation that brews in a green mist encased in a near-see-through magenta shield. The field agent in charge of the area walks over to the labcoat-wearing Ross. "Doctor Ross? Any word from Doctor Banner as to whether he'll — "
She lifts a hand, "I'm spoken to Bruce, and he's willing to lend his expertise. We're going to need it to address this problem. I'm not entirely sure how Sterns became so exposed, but," she shrugs. "Hopefully if we can collect a sample of the gas," somehow, "then we can do some testing of our own…"
*
Pepper hadn't *wanted* to take a dose of vigor again. She's been trying so hard to limit herself. For the first week, once a day was fine to keep herself sane. But now she's up to twice a day and this was even faster than normal. But they had stopped her. SHIELD agents all the way back on the other side of the *bridge* stopped her, and she had to see what happened to Bucky. She needed answers. So, that horrible little whisper in the back of a drug addict's head came again. The whisper that said things would be easier if she took the drug, it wasn't that bad, she needed it to fix things… And it was a whisper to which she listened.
That was about 20 minutes ago, the *worst* of the drug wearing off now, but she's getting used to riding the crash. It also meant on the authority of her voice alone, she was able to order herself past all sort of SHIELD blockades. It's unheard of. A civilian able to get her way in this close to a disaster area. A horrid breach in security. But no one was planning for Vigor or the gifts that it gives. So, Pepper's little sporty Chevy Impala 'Super Sport' (in cherry red, of course) drives up straight to the side of that field. She really, literally cannot go any further. Killing the engine, she swings out of the car, her eyes wide. "…Bucky?! Where is he…what…what happened? Is James Barnes okay?!"
*
The field agent treads up towards Pepper, "This is a restricted area — you can't just walk in here and look at what's going on. People aren't just — "
Betty, however, manages a sympathetic smile and reaches out for the agent's shoulder. She gives it a tight squeeze and issues him a small tilt of her head, a silent plead for him to get back to work and to let her handle whatever needs to be handled here. The man seems to take the hint, and backs up to handling clean up once more. A vague smile, small, weak, but warm, edges Betty's mouth and she offers towards Pepper, "There was an accident on site. I don't know a lot of details, but I can tell you that James Barnes was not on my injury list." Because that much isn't confidential. "I'm the supervising physician, well, attending physician for this particular…" her lips purse "…incident. It's being dealt with."
*
The moment the field agent comes up to her, Pepper's eyes widen just a bit and she hopes the drug is lasting long enough that she still has SOME kick to her voice. "I'm supposed to be here, it's fine. Go tell your friends that." She insists flatly. The man looks a bit stunned a moment, staring at her strangely. Training makes him almost resist, head feeling cottony now, but Betty's reassurance is enough that he relaxes into the command and nods to Pepper. "Yes, ma'am." Before heading off to tell a few other agents.
Pepper releases the breath she was slightly holding. But, it seemed there was someone here she *wouldn't* have to whammy, even if she slightly gave away her hand by doing that in front of Betty. The tired looking, slightly scattered redhead looks back up to the other lovely woman who looks about as stressed and paranoid as Pepper feels. Pepper gives a half embarrassed smile, apologetic, a hint ashamed, but mainly still worried as she looks back from Betty towards the structure. "T-thank you… but he wasn't… he wasn't working here. He was one of the prisoners. Are they all still inside? We… we just found him, last week. They'd brainwashed him…it was… Was bad. But you were all helping…"
*
Betty manages another small smile followed by a concerned furrow of her eyebrows. "Well we'll look into it then. Come on, we have a log of everything that's happened. I'm not a field agent, just the physician," she manages the faintest quirk of a smile. "But I have access to information." She gives a small tick of her head and motions towards one of the many makeshift log-in areas. "Come, we'll head to the booth over there and see what we can, alright?"
Her smile softens some. "I have a friend being helped inside. SHIELD is good at this. We do what we can to help people however we can, and believe me, if Barnes was hurt, I'd remember. That said, some of the prisoners have been relocated. We can get a beat on where he is together — "
Betty falls into step with Pepper and treads towards the log tower. "I apologize that I don't know more upfront. It's been… a trying few days." She manages a small grin that cracks instants later. "But we're managing."
*
If Betty has gone through any of the new medical files, there is a slim one on Pepper Potts. Having first come to SHIELD's notice as their contact concerning the Winter Soldier, she's in the few people who have found themselves addicted to Vigor and are openly permitting study of her blood. She hasn't missed any appointments yet but, without any progress in getting it 'cured', she also hasn't come back into medical. Why waste her time for something that isn't going any any time soon, she's said?
But here she is now, for far different reasons, and some of that paranoid panic behind her eyes eases as Betty murmurs those reassuring words, leading Pepper back towards one of the booths. "…You…You are very nice, Doctor… Ah, I don't think I got your name? Ross, did he say? Dr. Ross?" Pepper asks gently, respectfully, making no assumptions that the woman is just a nurse and trying to be as respectful as possible.
*
"Betty," she offers warmly. "You may call me Betty. Most people around here do, although, less-so lately." Betty's smile falters. "Things get very depersonalized when people are quite hurt. They'd rather think of their physician as a machine than a person. People make mistakes. Machines are programmed and therefore less apt to do so." Her expression warms and her shoulders weight a bit heavier.
She plucks a clipboard from the desk, and reaches into the pocket of her lab coat for a pair of thick-rimmed glasses that are then perched on her nose. "I normally manage fairly well without the spectacles, but fatigue — " she doesn't explain more beyond that. Instead, she scans the clipboard sheet, and her smile fades. She swallows hard and reaches out a hand, "Miss Potts, correct? I read your file… I need you to take a deep breath. Please."
*
"Betty." Pepper echoes gently, her own voice a bit warmer too. A bit more relieved. She wasn't actually accustomed to people being so nice and personable, or maybe she had just been feeling the paranoia so much more lately. But the woman seemed genuinely kind, and that's enough to set Pepper far more at ease than she was previously. "You…you are very nice, Betty. Probably nicer than you have any right to be but…thank you. For the help. Really." The redhead murmurs softly, some of her panic easing away.
Then Betty is mentioning fatigue, and a bit of concern trickles through Pepper's eyes. She's about to bring it up, some witty remark about who doctors the doctor, but it's all washed away as Betty mentions her file. Her blue eyes drop, a trickle of shame across her prim, professional features. "…I…I'm not like that, Betty. I'm not one of *those* people…" A drug addict, low life, everything the upper middle class thinks about druggies. "It…it was all an accident…" Taking a deep breath is the last thing on her mind right now.
*
Betty reaches out to issue Pepper's shoulder a squeeze. "Miss Potts, that wasn't… I wasn't trying to assert… the deep breath is for you. Not because I think you're unstable, but because I think you need it." her cheeks flush slightly and her eyes flit towards the horizon. "I'm a physician, we're trained for this, and I can see you're already in a state of distress." Her gaze softens slightly, "During the accident something within the prison itself shoot. James Barnes managed to escape cusody and is at large once again."
She continues to hold out her hands for Pepper, "We will find him and we will help him again, and I have no reason to believe he's incurred any injury through his escape or otherwise." She swallows hard. "I'm so sorry."
*
The touch on her shoulder makes her jump, just slightly, but she doesn't pull away. Blue eyes flicker back up and she takes a moment to study Betty's face, actually trying to figure out if she means those words, or if she's just saying it because that's what is expected. But Pepper is fairly good at reading people, and she doesn't actually see any condescention in Betty's face. Just the look of someone who is exhausted but does care. Pepper reaches a small hand up to wrap over top of Betty's palm and does finally take that deep breath, as deep as her own pulse and paranoia will allow. It's rather shallow, but she's trying!
"…W-what… He… He escaped? Again? Oh god… What if he goes back to them? They…they'll fry his brain again. I barely got the last information out of him. They know he's compromised, they…. They'll try to take every last thought in his head…" Pepper is trying not to panic but now it's truly hard. How could this have happened? Her eyes flicker from Betty, back to the damaged prison, back to Betty.
*
A small nod follows the breath — a hint of approval. Breathing is important, after all. "We'll try to get to him first," Betty assures, even though she knows nothing of the situation or its import, but reassurance is something she has in spades. She carefully reaches out and grants Pepper's shoulder another squeeze. "Do you know anything about where he may be going? I can talk to some of our agents and see if they can pursue in specifically — I know what it is to worry about someone not in control of themselves." Her lips curve down slightly at that.
*
A slight shake of her head, her free hand coming up to drag down across her features. Panic. She couldn't panic, no matter how tempting it was. "I…I don't know. Brooklyn, maybe? That's where he grew up. Or back to where ever the Russians were… were controlling him. I don't know how much of that awful programming was left in his head… probably… a lot. Too much." Pepper looks like she's going to momentarily be sick, but she tries to just take another deep breath in, tries to focus. Everything was running out of control so damn fast.
*
"We'll send some people to Brooklyn then," Betty offers in turn. "Deep breaths. Come on. You need to care for yourself, Miss Potts, or you'll be no use to Mister Barnes or anyone else. You mind that." It's advice that Betty had been minding for years. "Believe me. I don't know everything, but I know that self-care is important. I… am not always the best at practicing it, but your sanity depends on it."
*
A weak smile flitters across Pepper's lips, red lipstick still perfectly artful and in place, hiding any pallor beneath the surface, but still on the last fingers of Vigor she has far better control of herself now than she will in a few hours. She gives Betty's hand another squeeze, "You are…entirely too nice for your own good, Betty. Has anyone told you that before? You are… sweet…" She seems both grateful and a bit heartbroken about that, as she can see the other woman's frayed edges already. It takes one to know one. "And, yes…probably in need of your own advice."
*
"The man I love is deep within the depths of our prisons by his own choice," Betty confesses. "You see, I genuinely live at work. I sleep in the on-call room, steal away to visit him whenever I can, and work the rest of the time. I have a wonderful rent-controlled apartment I never visit." Her lips tug into another weary smile. "So believe me, I know what it is to worry. I know what it is to fret. And I know what it is not to take care of yourself. And you, Miss Potts, need to find some space for that care. I briefly read your file, and I think the stress is driving part of your troubles. You need a better way to manage it." Her lips hitch up on one side revealing a deep dimple in her cheek, "I don't advise living at work. Not the best way to manage stress."
*
As Pepper gets a glimpse of Betty's story — of the fact that the woman *heart deep* understands exactly how she feels — something in the redhead crumples a little. Pepper doesn't let herself cry, but there's a few moments of glassy sting through her own slightly bloodshot, exhausted gaze. Her throat tightens and she tries to swallow back another breath as she fights to keep her carefully built walls in place. "…Oh… Betty…" She breathes out softly. If there is anywhere for them to go sit, Pepper tries to tug her to the side. At least out of the way of any other eyes. "I… am so sorry. I'd say I cannot imagine but… I can. It's awful. It's… maddening. I'd sleep here too, if I could, but…" A bitter bit of a laugh escapes her lips, "I work for Stark Industries. I have a condo in the building. I… well… it works for being on hand in case of emergencies." She literally does live at work.
*
It's easy to tug Betty towards the array of chairs along the edge of the site. The pair settle into the seats and Betty grasps the other woman's hand tightly as she blinks hard in turn. The tears aren't permitted to fall, but they sting behind her eyes just the same as she tightens her grasp around Pepper's hand. "It's terrible and wonderful at the same time," she admits in a bittersweet tone. "I can't help but love him. My heart won't move on — it's been years. Literal years, and with him here, it's… it's the first time in a long time I know where he is. That he's alright. That he's safe. It's the first time in a long time that I've been able to touch him, to really talk to him. To laugh with him. It's wonderful."
She swallows hard and her throat tightens, "But it's terrible." Her voice cracks, "He's good. He's kind. He's brilliant. And… he's scared of hurting me, I think." She drops into a whisper, "And I couldn't forget him. He's imprinted on my mind. My heart. My soul." Her smile breaks. "And so, I know what it is to worry. To not know. And for that, my heart aches for you. But he's not hurt. He's going to b okay, and we will find him. It's what SHIELD does best."
*
The redhead listens, quietly aching for the woman. Years? She's been going through this for years? Pepper shakes her head slowly, never letting go of one of Betty's small hands. She gives a tender bit of squeeze there, protective, trying to lend what reassurance she can even as her own head spins through this madness. "…You…you are a better woman than I am, Betty. I don't know if I could do years… I'd give up, or go insane… I think." But that's where she's starting now. Possibly years. Bucky in the wind, no clue if he's alive or dead, sane or brainwashed. She swallows back against another threat of tears that pounds at the back of her eyes.
"…How long are you supposed to be on shift here? You're breaking yourself too. You…you can't live here constantly. It will drive you insane. Would he want that?" No matter how bad Pepper's issues are, she's a problem solver. A fixer! And realizing just how rough Betty has it, that she could maybe help the woman? That's enough to set her in a different direction.
*
"My boss," Peggy, "wouldn't let me stay here as much as I have been." And, in fact, the idea that Peggy hasn't objected should've been a tip-off that something was amiss. Betty manages a small, vague, smile. "It's not about being better, it's about being inextricably tied to someone. I've always believed that love is a choice. We choose to actively love someone. We choose them through our actions. But, sometimes, that choice becomes convoluted. It's mired in history. In memory." Her lips turn up into a lopsided smile. "And I'd rather be here with him than anywhere else with anyone else."
The weariness in Betty's gaze stretches, "But he can't know that. He's alive, and every day that I get to see him is a gift. I know that." Her chin drops, "And you're right, he wouldn't want that. But that's also why I don't tell him." Her smile tightens.
*
Something in Pepper aches incredibly to listen to Betty's words. She still cannot imagine it. She shakes her head slowly, tracing small fingertips across the back of Betty's hand. "…He's a lucky man to have someone like you. But…if your boss OR the man you love wouldn't want you to be doing this…Maybe you could listen to them for a night? Look, I've got a guest bedroom. We… both could use a night off, probably. I'll order us some food. We can put those gameshows on the TV… or just drink ourselves to sleep? Something to get you out of here. Nothing's changing tonight, is it? And… Bucky clearly isn't here. There's no reason for me to stay. But… you are going to drive yourself sick like this. You're a doctor, right? You know it's true." Pepper's blue eyes plead gently with the woman, trying to catch her gaze, earnest worry still in the pressure of her expression.
*
A slow, measured breath follows the words as does a small nod. "Alright," she finally manages. Betty manages another stitch of a smile. "But we need to get a few bottles of wine to go with that food. And, and ideally some ridiculous film that we can make fun of." Her smile eases some. "And perhaps, we can both manage to lose some of the stresses of the last few days," or years as the case may be.
*
A slightly deeper laugh escapes Pepper's lips, "I'll see what we can do. The wine? That…that is definitely doable. I'll raid Tony's cellar. He'll never notice a few bottles are gone. But yes… it'd be good for both of us. Come on, I'll drive…" Pepper stands, nodding Betty in the direction of her sporty little coupe. Stark Industries must pay her VERY well to have a car like that. "…it'll be nice not to be alone… in the apartment. SOmetimes being alone lets your head… well, all those awful thoughts just get louder."
*
Betty chuckles lightly, "Reasonable. I imagine Mister Stark has quite a few bottles of wine kicking about." She nods and slowly follows towards the car, as she motions to one of the agents that she's heading off — so they know she's actually leaving… for once. She trails back to the passenger side, "I know too well what being alone does. Believe me. It really does have an effect." She manages a tight-lipped smile. "Miss Potts? Thank you. Honestly."
*
As the woman echoes a thank you to her, Pepper pauses before getting in the car. She smiles tiredly over the hood of the vehicle. "Pepper. Please… just call me better. And I'm glad to do it." Pepper murmurs, before swinging down into the car and starting the engine. She pulls a tight turn, moving back for the bridge, no one stopping them on their way out, though having Betty in the passenger seat probably helps. She says nothing for a long time, letting the car thrum beneath them as she cuts back into late, light night time traffic in the city. "…I look at you and…see what I might be in… a few months. A few years. I don't know. I just know… I'd hope someone would come along and shake me too. Before I went completely insane. And it's shitty to go through this alone. Whether they are helping your man or not… you're not alone."
*