A PARTICULAR SHADE OF RED
OLIVIA IS WALKING DOWN A HALLWAY WHEN THE SHIP TILTS. She stumbles into the wall, bracing herself against the sudden force. After a brief moment of adjustment, she pushes off the wall and presses onward.
“Fuck, I hate gravity,” she groans to herself, wiping some blood off of her still-bleeding lip. Her footsteps echo through the hall, heralding her approach to anyone who might be ahead.
Turning a corner, she spots a familiar redhead with a body slumped over her shoulder. Finding a gun pointed at her, Olivia raises her hands in surrender.
“Just me,” she reassures the other woman, prompting Natasha to lower her gun with a slightly relieved glance. “He alive?”
“Of course he’s alive,” Natasha replies, shooting her a look as she tucks her gun away and secures her grip on the man’s body.
Yeah, Olivia figured as much; didn’t really peg her as the type to lug a dead body around.
“Here, I’ll help,” she offers, striding forward to take some of the weight onto her own shoulders. “Medical or interrogation?”
“Medical,” Natasha replies quickly, and the brunette nods. Together, they continue the journey to Medical, the blonde man slung over their shoulders.
***
The last hour or so helping out in Medical has taught Olivia very specifically what color blood is. She could probably even pick the shade of red out of a lineup, she thinks.
It’s a nice color and all, but knowing what it’s the color of has really put her off.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and she excuses herself to check it. Her screen lights up as she pulls it out, and the preview of a new text is displayed on the screen.
She traces her password quickly, and the screen opens up to a message conversation with an unknown number.
‘See you soon -B’ is all it says. A small smile forms on her face; she knows it’s Bruce trying to quickly tell her he’s coming back, but...
He made it sound so unnecessarily ominous. It’s kind of funny, actually; what is he, an mobster issuing a warning to his next target? The smile slides off her face. She knows mobsters don’t issue warnings.
Olivia doesn’t bother to text him back, since the unknown number tells her he borrowed some random stranger’s phone.
“Hey, Banner,” a voice greets, interrupting her thought process. She looks up, seeing Tony Stark. “Is Big Green coming back?”
“I’m not his babysitter,” she reminds the billionaire, crossing her arms. “You’re in luck, though; I just got the text.” She turns the phone around to show him, and he reads it before he nods.
“You can control the Hulk, right?” he prompts. She raises her eyebrows.
“Nobody ‘controls’ the Hulk. He’s a person, he does what he wants,” she reminds him. “I can give him advice without getting my ribs broken, if that’s what you’re asking.” He absorbs that.
“If you tell Big Green to kick an alien’s ass, will he do it?” Tony questions. Olivia considers it seriously for a moment.
“I mean, he’s always looking for an excuse to kick ass,” she reasons. “If you ask him to kick specific ass, he probably won’t ever say no; and I’m probably the only one here who can get close to him without being the one whose ass gets kicked, so... yeah.” Tony nods, satisfied.
“Then suit up, we’re gonna need you. We’re bringing the fight to Loki,” he states. Olivia hesitates, but nods.
“Okay,” she agrees.
Honestly, she’d rather do anything else. Kicking her soulmate’s ass, and maybe dying in the process? Not her idea of a fun weekend day trip.
If she doesn’t go, though, a lot of people could die, and her brother could go out of control. She’d have to add this whole nightmare to the pile of shit weighing on her conscience.
She pushes her phone into her pocket, resolving to just change first.
Her shirt is still soaked in red from helping out in Medical.