#chapter 11

[damn-stark]

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Chapter 11 The Trail we Blaze

Chapter 11 of Moon Star

A/N- its long but I do hope you all enjoy :)

Warning- ANGST, FLUFF, swearing, violence weapons, LONG CHAPTER

Pairing- Bob Reynolds x fem!reader, Marc Spector x daughter!reader

When does it take place?- Thunderbolts (0:00:00--0:48:32)

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

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“TODAY YOU ARE WATCHING CHANNEL 5, FROM INSIDE THE COURTHOUSE WHERE IN A COUPLE OF MINUTES THE CIA DIRECTOR VALENTINA DE FONTAINE IS GOING TO START HER HEARING. AS YOU CAN SEE, THE COURTROOM IS ALREADY FILLED WITH OUR CONGRESSMEN AND WOMEN, AS WELL AS OTHER GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS READY TO HEAR THE START OF THIS TRIAL. LUCKILY—LOOK CONGRESSMAN BARNS IS WALKING IN, LET'S GO ASK HIM SOME QUESTIONS.”

The camera pans and in frame is the ever-so-handsome Winter Soldier who is now otherwise known as Congressman James Buchanan Barnes.

“Hey, so why do you think people voted for Congressman Barnes?” You ask your dad who’s at the other end of the FaceTime call as he insists on watching your boss's trial with you for moral support…and to prove you right about his skepticism about her. “Do people really trust him?”

“Do you?” Your dad redirects. “He does represent that state your school is in.”

You scoff. “No, I don’t trust him. I would have voted no. He might not be the Winter Soldier anymore, but there has to be some form of skepticism for him. He’s no Sam Wilson.”

“No,” your dad agrees. “But we ought to put some faith in him. What happened to him wasn’t his fault. He’s trying to do better.”

You hum before you take a sip of your hot simmering coffee and watch as the camera comes to a stop before the obviously nervous congressmen.

“Not like your boss,” your dad quips and you roll your eyes lightheartedly and set the mug down as the news anchor starts to address the congressmen.

“Representative Barnes, as a freshman congressman, any words on today’s hearing?”

“Well, I’m not on the impeachment committee,” Congressman Barnes starts off smoothly, captivating your attention. “But the rumors of wrongdoing are very worrying.”

You hear his following comment and start to snicker.

“They are very, very concerning and uhm, worrying. And I think that my Brooklyn constituents deserve better, so we’re gonna get to the bottom of this uhm,” he clears his throat. “Worrying issue.”

You begin to laugh and take another sip of your coffee before you start to work on the finishing touches on your scarab.

“Thank you,” Congressman Barnes brings an end to the interview and breaks through the crowd to walk into the Courtroom, leaving the woman to also bring an end to the segment before the camera view changes to inside the courtroom where the hearing begins with a few hits of the gavel.

You pause what you’re working on and watch as the crowd takes their seats, letting you finally see Valentina sitting at the center of attention with her assistant that you always forget the name of. Not like she matters at the moment, all your focus is on Valentina and how nonchalant she is able to look. You almost believe that everything against her is in fact a lie when you know it’s the truth.

“Now, today, the committee is meeting to examine this officer who sits before you,” Congressman Gary starts the hearing. “Articles of impeachment have been brought against her. And when we vote in favor of the impeachment, she will be removed from her post permanently. Please state your name for the record,” he gives Valentina the floor.

“Valentina Allegra de Fontaine,” she states with a fake innocent smile plastered on her face.

“Now, Miss Fontaine—”

“No,” said woman cuts him off to correct him. “It’s “de Fontaine.” You forgot the “de”.”

You roll your eyes and continue working while you also keep listening, catching your dad's comment on the matter. “Ay, no.”

“She has a point,” you comment, making your dad rebuttal.

“You can’t defend her.”

“Mr. Anderson, for example,” Valentina keeps going. “Is Secretary of Defense, not secretary of “fense,”.”

That earns a couple of chuckles from the crowd but a groan from your dad.

“Miss de Fontaine,” Congressman Gary corrects himself. “At this moment, you are serving as a director of the CIA, correct?”

“That is correct.”

“Now before that, you were chairwoman of the board of OXE Group?” Congressman Gary asks for the record and Valentina answers quickly, leaving no space to be doubted.

“Yes. Although, I have fully divested in OXE since taking office. I now sit on the board in a strategic guidance capacity.”

“And following this strategic guidance, the OXE Group maintains significant holdings in unregulated labs in foreign countries and rumored human experimentation.”

You stop and look at the TV screen at the mention as you can’t help but think of Bob.

“All part of an illegal operation to develop your own super…person,” Congressman Gary stammers over how to address the matter, making you sink deeper in your chair the more you think about Bob and how betrayed he must have felt when you just disappeared without a word.

If only you could tell him that you’re closer than he thinks.

“Is that what she had you doing?” Your dad interjects and follows by saying your name to demand an answer, but you pretend to have missed his question and listen to Valentina as she speaks up

“May I speak now, Congressman?”

“Yes.”

“First of all, I don’t have time to entertain these rumors and this gossip. Right now,” she says confidently. “There are multiple rogue nations with technologies that far exceed our own. And you’ll recall that our last president turned into a bright red superhuman monster who nearly destroyed this city.”

“She has a point,” you mutter.

“The Avengers are not walking through that door,” Valentina proclaims as she stands up. “We have no reliable heroes. That is why the onus is on me, on us, the American government, to shield its citizens. And you know,” she pauses as the gavel is hit before Congressman Gary tries to get her to stop.

“Madame Director.”

“Anything I have done in my roles both at OXE or at the CIA,” Valentina ignores him. “Has been done with that goal in mind.”

“Order. Madame Director,” Congressman Gary tries to order, but Valentina continues to defy him.

“I officially reject these articles of impeachment,” she claims as she sits down hoping that would get some fire off her, but if you were clueless you would only suspect her more. Which isn’t so smart on her part.

“This is a partisan waste of time,” Valentina continues to say. “And your hunt will come up empty no matter how many nooks and crannies you happen to stick your nose in.”

“So you don’t mind if this committee continues this investigation?” Congressman Gary rebuttals.

“Oh, of course not.”

You scoff softly at her response and then turn away from the TV, letting the hearing play out as you grow uninterested. It’s not like you’re at risk. Sure, you were working for her and OXE Group, you managed to actually get the Sentry project to work, but she doesn’t know that so all evidence that could have pinned you to the matter is getting burnt to ash. All except for Bob.

That’s why you haven’t been able to go save him because you needed him to be transported to Valentina’s black site first. That way there’s no trail and she doesn’t have a chance to find out about Bob.

“Look, Baby,” your dad steals your attention off your scarab and makes you turn your camera so he can look at you. “You don’t need her anymore, okay? Go and finish this school year on campus. You will be better off.”

You glance over at the TV as the hearing nears its end and then look back at your dad with the same nonchalant technique Valentia used at the start of her hearing.

“It’s because of her that I’m able to graduate this year,” you bring up, hoping that it doesn’t sound like you’re defending her because you’re not. You’re simply pointing out that because of Valentina taking you on as her tech specialist, you are able to graduate early.

Whether your dad likes it or not she opened the door to many unbelievable opportunities you otherwise wouldn’t have gotten.

“Yes, I know, but she’s under fire now,” your dad argues. “There’s no need for you to go down with her.”

“I won’t,” you assure him. “But even so, you have nothing to worry about. Did Steven get that?” You ask knowing the man you mentioned is overthinking this matter for the both of them.

“He heard,” your dad assures you. “He—we just want what’s best for you.”

You nod. “I know. If she falls I won't. Simple as that. And I get to go to campus,” you reassure him, hiding the fact that you’re not even in Washington D.C.. You’re actually close to where they took Bob, and your dad doesn’t know that. He thinks you’re home, waiting to hear whether they found Valentina guilty or not. He thinks you’re worried, but he doesn’t know that you’re more worried about the “project” Valentina sent you to save.

Layla, your most trusted confidant doesn’t know anything either, and Steven, well, he knows what your dad knows and that’s nothing, which is probably a bad thing just in case something goes awry, but you don’t think about what could go wrong. You just think about Bob, your secret. Your Bob.

If you knew your dad would understand why you’re risking your life for Bob, you would have told him, but you know him. He’ll get upset. He’ll say you’re risking your life for someone you shouldn't have gotten attached to. For a job. And as much as he understands love, he wouldn’t understand why you love Bob, or why he’s worth risking your life for. So maybe you’re putting your relationship at jeopardy too besides your life, but never do you waver at the thought.

Then again there’s a more important secret that is also jeopardizing your relationship, but right now, you don’t even think about telling him. All you think about is Bob, your guilt for having to leave him behind, and the hope that you’ll reach him in time.

You also hope that he somehow knows you’re coming, but knowing him he probably thinks you’ve abandoned him when it’s far from the truth.

Can’t he know that abandoning him never crossed your mind though? Even before when your days were made of keeping him company as he was in his coma and your feelings were undeveloped? And through all those busy days you tried to get his powers to work?

He must know. He has to understand.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

Cameras looping?

You pull out your scarab and turn it on so it can fly out of hiding and approach the cameras. When you don’t catch even a glimpse of it on your smartwatch, you slowly come out of hiding and face the great eyesore that Valentina’s black site is.

Anyone with a mind would immediately clock how suspicious this is, no? It’s on top of a damn mountain!

Anyway, the cameras are looping and your suit omits any body signature any extra security measures might pick up, so you have your scarab land on the control panel and let it hack into the system to open the grand doors for you.

However, before you do make your way inside, you use your very own nanotech that you made and have it form into a fly that you keep over the entrance so it can work as your very own security camera.

Once that is up and working you finally make your way inside with your scarab leading the way just in case there’s any potential danger ahead.

Luckily, you reach the elevators without trouble, so you then make your way to the vault that resides one mile down the mountain, feeling anxiety creep in the further down you get. The black site is just so big and lonely and the combination makes it deafening and haunting. That’s not even mentioning the fact that you’re deep underground.

If this place collapses that’s it. There’s no way out! That’s terrifying! And it’s not like you’ll die next to old relics and ancient history. You’ll die in a bland vault! That’d be such a boring way to die!

You’d prefer to be killed by those Heka priest zombie creatures than die down here. That's why when the elevator reaches the intended floor you scurry out and at a quick jog, you make your way to the vault the same way you came into the black site, by hacking the system and opening the door.

Yet when the doors to the vault open you’re not welcomed into some cave of wonders, you walk into a room littered to the brim with evidence that would be able to lock Valentina away all of her life, making your plan to quickly find Bob that much harder.

Great! Just what you needed! More time in this trap of a vault!

Anyway, you don’t hesitate to start looking while your scarab flies over all the junk in search of a capsule that Bob might be in.

The vault itself isn’t so big and it’s just one room so it won’t be hidden miles away, or in a different room. If Bob is here he'll be nearby.

“I could help you look for him,” Denwen’s voice creeps in. “I have an amazing sense of smell like that of a snake, some would say.”

“No,” you deadpan stubbornly.

“Oh, and she talks,” Denwen quips as he manifests himself outside and leans against a tower of boxes in his monstrous form. “This would be so much quicker if we worked together.”

You ignore him and thankfully an alert comes through your smart watch that tells you that your scarab found a suspicious capsule, so you quickly abandon your search and run to a corner of the vault, coming face to face with a capsule.

Valentina can’t possibly be trying to destroy other super-humans so this has to be him. You just have to wake him up and open it.

However, just as you’re about to tap on the control pad, an alert comes through your watch that warns you about a singular person in a suspicious black tactical suit and a white mask approaching the black site.

“Shit,” you hiss. “Shit!”

“Come on, let me in,” Denwen insists almost in a tempting way, but it’s not enough to tempt you. Instead, you leave the capsule and look frantically for a tall stack of boxes.

Once you find some just nearby another alert comes through your watch and your security fly warns you of someone else walking in. This time though, as the suspicious figure approaches you actually recognize the bright blue, red, and white suit he’s wearing. That’s John Walker, the failed Captain America!

“What the hell is going on?!” You grumble and work at a quicker speed to surround yourself and capsule with tall stacks and singular boxes to hide behind, adding to your time inside.

“They’re after you,” Denwen pesters you as he can’t do anything but watch you move like crazy to try and hide you and Bob so you can get him out in secret while the intruders come. For what exactly?

They can’t be here to rob Valentina if they work for her, and you only know John Walker works for her because one time Valentina had you work on the shield he’s carrying. She didn’t directly say it was for someone who worked for her but you pieced it together rather quickly because she warned you not to be inquisitive and just work.

So what are they here for? Is Denwen right? Are they here for you?

“Secrets are our downfall if not kept right,” Denwen hisses in such a soothing way as he returns inside you.

“Shut up,” you bark back and notice that you get another damn alert of someone else in a stylish black suit and a white mask approaching the damn site!

“<Damn, damn, damn!>” You curse in Spanish before you use more of your nano tech to make more flies. This time you have them discreetly patrol the halls for you while you drag over the last stack of boxes, getting yet another damn alert of a short blond woman approaching the site which makes this ordeal much weirder.

They can’t be after you. Please, please let that not be true.

Nevertheless, you don’t abandon your mission, with quick glances at your little screen to watch for the four intruders, you return to the capsule and find that there’s no security wall of any kind keeping you from waking up Bob. You just tap on the right buttons and it starts the waking-up process, leaving you time to focus on the blond intruder finding her way to the vault first.

You watch her walk out of the elevator with her gun pointed at the open doors that welcome her inside the vault of evidence. All while just down a different hall, John Walker slowly approaches the same vault in the same careful and threatening walk as the blonde who creeps inside and starts to look around the piles of useless junk.

And as if premeditated, the intruder who reached the black site first also starts making their way toward the vault of evidence, turning this into a rather intriguing turn of events. More so when two of your security flies come together in the same room as John Walker at last joins the fray not going unnoticed. The blond woman catches John Walker just as he starts raising his gun and uses a hard-shelled case to block the case of bullets he sends her way.

When John Walker reloads his gun you watch as the Blonde woman throws her case at him, forcing him to use his heavy shield to shove it away when it reaches him. She then pulls out her gun and shoots, but ultimately her bullets are blocked by the shield whilst he also pushes forward, getting close enough to kick her wrist and make her drop her gun, leaving you quite amused.

John Walker then throws his leg again, but he misses this time and the Blonde moves in, capturing his arm and using her elbow to hit the back of his neck before she flips him onto the ground with a loud thud that shakes the metal ground.

You start to smile thinking that the blonde is going to gain the upper hand, but he then manages to use his strength to kick her away, causing her to crash into the ground a few feet away.

After that, they both get back up and meet in the middle to continue fighting with her finally addressing him in a Russian accent.

“You’re not even my target,” you hear her say as you look at the capsule and see that Bob should wake up in a couple more minutes. That's why you focus back on the fight happening past the tower of boxes.

“You’re mine,” John Walker retorts before he manages to disarm again, causing her to slip away to get another weapon on the floor and go exchange more blows that ultimately lead to her getting thrown to the ground again!

How impressive you do have to admit. Do they know that the first intruder is now just around the corner?

It doesn’t seem like it because John Walker stomps toward the Blonde, but never reaches her because he’s then thrown to the side, leading you to abandon the thought that they’re after you. The idiots are after each other!

You should have come before to avoid this mess Valentina most likely created, but you didn’t even have an idea that she had so many people working for her. Now you know and have no other choice but to watch the fight and hear the first intruder address the Blonde while the capsule opens.

“I’m not here for you,” the first intruder says with her mask open, letting the Blonde see who she is before hiding again and going after John Walker.

However, as they battle it out you quietly turn to the capsule, catching Bob’s eyes fluttering open before he focuses on the dark ceiling and then finds you and stares hard in disbelief.

“Hey,” you whisper with a faint smile tugging on your lips.

Bob blinks and parts his lips as he still looks at you at a complete loss for words, wondering if you’re a dream or really here. He doesn't know, but all too quickly the realization that this is real is forced upon him when he hears a different voice in the same room.

“There you are.”

“Now what?” You hear John Walker complain and when you look at your watch you see that the intruder with the stylish black suit suddenly appears in the room almost out of thin air, but not exactly, you see glimpses of them before they fully appear inside and join the group of lost intruders.

“Oh get over yourself,” they quip in a feminine voice and a British accent before she commences yet another fight whilst Bob breaks his silence.

“Hey,” Bob whispers and focuses back on you with confusion as you focus back on him with a warning look—“What—”

Before he can finish you put your finger against your lips to shush him and he listens, letting you grab his arm to help him out of the capsule. And since he’s pretty tall you have to unfortunately make him crouch immediately so you’re not caught and turn the fight towards you.

“Are you okay?” You ask as you grab his shoulders and then slide your hands up to his jaw. “Can you walk? We have to get out of here fast,” you let him know in a whisper.

“Yeah,” he makes sure to whisper back as he steals glimpses at the fight projected on your watch thanks to the security flies still in the air. “I-I’m fine. W-what are you doing here? Where are we?”

“I’ll explain everything later. Just be ready to run, okay?” You warn him and he nods as he meets your gaze and shows the relief and disbelief that passes through him as he has you in front of him after he thought he’d never see you again.

He wants to say how confused, sorry, happy, and relieved he is at this very moment, but he also hears the commotion and understands what he needs to do, so he takes your hand as you offer it to him and trusts you to lead the way.

However, as you start to move some boxes to make space to sneak out, through the screen, Bob sees that John Walker throws his shield so hard that as it hits the table, it manages to hurl the table towards the boxes surrounding you. Thus as the table crashes into the boxes, Bob throws his arm around your head and shoves you down as the boxes come tumbling down just mere inches behind him.

“Fuck,” you gasp and peer over at him. “Nice catch,” you say through pants, earning a flustered smile and a soft nod before you peek behind him, noticing that you’re still luckily covered by the other boxes, so you keep going as they keep fighting and manage to move the boxes just enough that you and Bob can slip out, leaving the doorway as the only obstacle left.

However, if only the exit were covered too, it'd make this escape easy, but it isn’t. It’s exposed to the other four, so you have to stop and wait for the right moment, watching as the blonde throws her dagger at the stylish intruder, but failing to hit her as she catches it and throws it at the first intruder.

The first intruder then hits it and redirects it towards John Walker, but he manages to catch it before he finds the blonde and shoves away the box she was using as cover, capturing her in that moment and pinning her to the ground where it becomes a struggle to keep the dagger from piercing the blonde.

It's also at this moment, as the struggle is happening, that you notice that the blonde is using a similar gadget that Natasha Romanoff used to use. She’s using a gadget around her wrists to try and electrocute John Walker in the same way the Black Widow would shock her enemies. Is the Blonde a…red room assassin just like Natasha Romanoff was?

It’s possible. If so, that'd be so cool! You always wanted to meet one. Mainly Natasha Romanoff, but the blonde will suffice too.

Nevertheless, as the struggle continues, and the other intruders are busy fighting each other, you capture Bob’s attention and point your head at the exit, letting him know that it’s time to run.

In response, Bob tightens his hold around your hand, but just as you’re going to move, the first intruder loses the stylish intruder and makes her way towards John Walker and the Blonde.

The first intruder gets close, but ultimately before she can reach the pair on the ground, the other intruder once again appears out of thin air but this time right before the first intruder, using the element of surprise to shoot her through the head, causing the pair on the ground to pause their fight to see, and leaving the exit open again.

Thus before they can turn, you move forward and try to pull Bob with you, but he doesn’t move, instead, he lets your hand go and starts to gag. You snap your head around and catch him throwing up just between you.

“Sorry,” he says between his struggle and puts his hand up, but you turn away to avoid throwing up along with him.

Yet it's a struggle to keep your food down as he gags again, undoubtedly giving you both away. Or at least him. Either way, it doesn’t matter, now you have no choice but to face them.

“Stay with me,” you instruct Bob as you pull your gun out and then walk out of hiding, revealing yourself and causing the three remaining intruders to all snap around and point their guns at you while you point your gun at them and have your scarab fly to your side to threaten them as well.

The flies made out of nanotech return to you, and Bob comes stumbling out of hiding, breaking the tension by addressing what just happened.

“Is she actually dead…” he trails off however as he sees the three intruders all point their guns at the two of you.

“Come on, let’s go,” you tell Bob over your shoulder as you keep your gun and your scarab pointed at the intruders.

With no question, you hear Bob turn and run towards the door so you walk backwards, making sure not to lose sight of all the guns pointed at you.

Nevertheless, just before you and Bob can make it out, the door along with all the doors close shut, trapping you inside and making Bob return to your side as you're forced to keep your guard up as the guns all point back at the two of you.

“Whoa, whoa, oh, no. Hi. Hey,” Bob nervously chuckles as you scowl quietly. “I’m—I’m Bob!”

Oh, sweet man. Sweet, sweet man.

“She,” Bob now turns the attention to you. “She’s my—no, she’s her. She’s—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you cut him off before he can reveal your name.

“Who are you?” The stylish intruder says without that white mask in the way, revealing to be quite pretty underneath.

“I’m—I’m Bob. I told you. She,” he points at you and reveals your name nonetheless. “And I’m, uh…yeah,” he chuckles nervously again. “Bob.”

“Jesus Christ,” John Walker snaps. “Stop saying, Bob.”

“Who sent you two?” The blonde now takes her turn speaking.

“Nobody!” Bob exclaims nervously. “Right?” He then asks you.

“Right,” you mutter with your scowl still painted on your face and your aim still on the intruders.

“Yeah, see why would we be sent?” Bob continues to say. “Were you all—You were all sent?”

“Okay,” the stylish intruder interjects as the Blonde makes some heavy eye contact with you and Bob, making you quite uneasy, and making you move towards Bob even if you have the gun.

“I'm not sure what’s happening here,” the stylish intruder says. “But you’re all exhausting and my job is done, so—“

“Ah,” the blonde cuts her off as she moves to point her gun at the stylish intruder. In doing so, making John Walker turn his aim toward the ladies as they threaten each other.

“But you see, my job is to keep an eye on you. So, no, you are not gonna go anywhere anymore.”

You scoff with amusement and look at Bob as he looks at you, sharing an amused smile before you keep your eyes on the intruders again since they’re still hostile.

“So you’re keeping an eye on her, huh?” John Walker cuts in. “That’s a halfway decent cover for somebody stealing assets from OXE.”

Oh, and you are right. They’re here for each other and it’s all because of Valentina.

“Can I have a gun?” Bob asks as he sees that you have another one in a different holster.

“Oh? Uh,” you hesitate as you look at him. “The scarab is keeping an eye out. It’ll shoot at them if they turn on us,” you assure him. “Besides, I have my other gadgets and stuff, I got us covered. I got you,” you say and pat his shoulder, missing his slight disappointment over being unable to help protect you the same way you’re protecting him.

“Okay,” he sighs and you focus back on the others, hearing the Blonde interject.

“Okay, it’s clear we have all worked for Valentina in some sort of shadow ops capacity.”

“Yeah, so?” John Walker questions her.

“So, all of this stuff is OXE’s secrets. But so are we.”

“Which makes us liabilities that no one would miss," the stylish intruder continues for the blonde as she figures out what is being said.

“Oh, speak for yourself,” John Walker retorts.

“We are the evidence and this is the shredder. She wants us gone,” the blonde exclaims.

“Your theory’s flawed,” John keeps arguing.

“Oh, please,” the stylish intruder quips. “Go on.”

“We should go,” Bob whispers and grabs your arm as he starts pulling you away.

“Yeah, okay,” you give in as they all have dropped their guns, letting you drop yours but keep your scarab watching them as it follows you and Bob.

“Okay, well, look at the facts,” you hear John Walker say. “The infamous Ghost. A shield reject on the run from 15 nations?”

Is that who she is? Ava Starr? You’ve heard about her.

“The dead one over there, she destroyed half of Budapest.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” you hear the Blonde interject in the intruder's defense, but only gets talked about next.

“And you, former Red Room assassin. God only knows the blood on your hands.”

“Pretty ludicrous coming from the dime-store Captain America,” Ava Starr makes a good and funny point.

“I’ll have you know I was actually the official Captain America, so…” John gets defensive.

“Yeah,” the blonde scoffs. “For like two seconds.”

“Before you publicly murdered an innocent man on the streets. Do I have that right?” Ava Starr continues for the blonde.

“Really? Define, “innocent”,” he rebuttals, making you roll your eyes as he goes on and you lead Bob around the vault in search of something he doesn’t ask about because you’re both also listening to the conversation.

“Hey, look,” John Walker continues. “I’m a decorated combat veteran, okay? I have a loving wife and a son. Let’s be honest, you guys are just cheap mercenaries, okay?”

Damn.

“So, I—clearly, I’m supposed to bring you in,” he says, making both women laugh.

“That was funny, thank you. We needed that,” the Blonde says as she keeps laughing along with Ava Starr. In doing so, as you’re listening in, Bob also joins in on the laughter, making them go quiet and turn their attention back to you, causing you to stop walking and slowly turn to face them.

“It’s getting so tense in here for a second,” Bob interjects and grows nervous as the tension comes back and they all glare at you both.

“I’m not leaving here without completing my mission,” John Walker states as he starts approaching you and Bob with a menacing look, making you lift your gun once again.

“Valentina gave me a clean slate guarantee,” he continues. “And I’m not screwing that up. But this weirdo and this girl weren’t part of the job, so I gotta know…how’d you get in?” He asks and as you fail to immediately answer as you glare back at him, Bob interjects first.

“I don’t—I don’t remember.”

John rolls his eyes. “Terrific answer,” he sasses and then points at you. “And you?”

You shrug. “I found my way in,” you answer sarcastically, making him scowl before he nods.

“Great. Thank you.”

You hum and he turns around.

“All right, uhm…Tie yourselves up. You too,” he points his shield at you. “I’m not believing your shitty answer.”

You shrug and scoff as the other girls protest.

“Wow. No.”

“Oh, my God.”

“And good-bye,” Ava Starr adds and tries to leave, but you know that won’t work now that you know what she can do, so you lower your gun and turn to Bob.

“Cover your ears.”

You mirror each other by covering your ears and seconds later a high-pitched alarm screeches and Ava Starr is unable to phase out. Just like it was intended to do, proving that this is what Valentina wanted this for.

“Oh, you guys hear that?” Bob addresses the others as they’re also left frazzled by the high-pitched sound.

“Had you asked and stopped being dicks I would have warned you about it,” you finally say more than a couple of words as you holster your gun.

“What?” John Walker quips as they all turn to look at you.

“Sonic system. Valentina had me make them. I didn't know it was for you until today,” you tell Ava Starr.

“Who are you?” The blonde asks as she takes a step toward you.

“Valentina’s tech specialist,” you share without hesitation or deceit, but John Walker doesn’t believe you.

“Sure,” he chuckles. “Then why are you here?”

“I came here for him,” you point at Bob as you glance at him. “Turns out there was someone here to steal OXE assets. Not like she knows—or knew. I’m collateral now. Not like you. You’re here to die,” you direct at John Walker smugly, making him scoff in disbelief.

“Don’t believe us then, but it’s the truth. Guess all those metals weren’t enough to make you as important as you think, ey?”

John narrows his glare and you smirk, taunting him more. To the point he fists his hands and starts stomping towards you with his lips parted to most likely throw some insult. You’re sure, but he doesn’t get to reach you because in a matter of seconds, without thinking of what could happen and ignoring how well equipped you are, Bob cuts him off as he steps in front of you to shield you from the big threatening man.

“She’s very smart. She’ll help us find a way out.”

You take a step past Bob and interject after him. “I might,” you play nice because he’s protecting you and vouching for you which does make your heart flutter and makes you less hostile.

“It’ll take time,” you add. “As long as you stop threatening Bob I’ll help you all get out. Maybe then you can then ask Valentina why those metals weren’t enough, Mr Walker?” You direct at John cockily before you look at the blonde. “We all know each other except for you.”

“That’s right,” Ava Starr turns her attention to the blonde.

“Yelena,” the blonde answers bluntly and walks back before she turns away from the group, but not without looking between you and Bob, making you then turn around to continue finding what you need.

Bob doesn’t linger behind, he turns around and follows you, leaving the others to their own devices.

“Thank you,” you tell Bob as you wait for him to catch up. “For standing up for me just now.”

Bob stares at you dumbfoundedly so you grab his arm and squeeze it gently.

“Really, thank you,” you press. “I know I have a habit of getting myself in trouble, but when I don’t have to avoid it it’s quite fun picking on men like him because they always take the bait.” You laugh softly and he finally breaks from his stupor to smile shyly at the ground before he addresses the matter.

“I know I don’t have any weapons, but I still wasn’t going to let him come attack you,” he says softly and lifts his gaze, locking his eyes with you right away since you never once dared to look away—“I can be…useful too you know? Especially when it comes to you know…you,” he finishes in a whisper and darts his eyes away as he grows as flustered as you.

“You can help me find a way out then,” you whisper as your heart somersaults like mad and butterflies dance their happy dance.

Bob nods and a boost of confidence hits him as you trust him to help you even if he knows you’d be able to do this with your eyes closed.

“Okay.” He nods. “What are we looking for exactly?” He asks.

You let go of his arm and glance around for what you’re searching for. “A box. I can’t say what color it’ll be because I don’t know, but it’ll be hard to miss because it’ll be on a wall. It’s what gives power to the sonic system that stopped that cool ghost lady. It’s an independent power source, but the wires run through the wall so I’ll be able to use my nanotech to make bugs crawl alongside the wires through the walls and have it connect to the door, the incinerators above our heads, and the elevators.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty tall order,” Bob notes nervously, knowing that your escape depends on finding this box.

“Yeah, but it’s our only way out now. We can’t open the doors any other way.” You sigh and spot a grate on the wall so you run over, but when you reach it, you just find the vents. Thus you and Bob keep searching without actually straying too far from each other.

“What if we can’t find it?” Bob asks as he lingers behind you in the mess.

You peer back and correct him. “We will and if we don’t, well, we’re not alone. We can come together and brainstorm like a ragtag team.” You chuckle and continue to search, coming across the trio that is all busy independently trying to find a way out.

“So you girl, why are you here? You look too young to be Valentina’s specialist?" Yelena asks as you pass by her.

“Too young?” You mock. “There’s no age expectancy to being a genius, and I’m old enough,” you argue, but your eyes betray you. Not like that you care to notice that fact.

“And I told you, I came for Bob,” you answer curtly. “She was going to get rid of him so I came to get him out using my suit and my technology,” you repeat yourself, making her nod stiffly.

“Do your parents know you’re here?” John Walker butts in as he tries to mess with the door.

“Haha,” you feign a laugh. “And father. I don’t have a mother,” you mess with him and when you peek over you see him give the same ashamed reaction everyone gives you when you mess with them that way because they conclude your mother's dead.

“Anyway,” you roll out and come to a stop before you can walk out of sight, almost bumping into Bob, but stopping him by putting your hand on his chest and pushing him back gently—“Miss Yelena, you’re a Red Room Assassin, right?”

“Yelena,” she corrects you. “And…yes. I was.”

You nod and begin to smile. “Like Natasha Romanoff?” You ask with a childlike wonder that captures her attention. “You know about her? The Black Widow? She was a red room assassin too.”

“Yes, I know…about her,” she deadpans.

You nod and begin to grin. “Pardon me because I’m about to geek out a little, but she was always my favorite avenger,” you share and pique Yelena’s curiosity and wonder. You swear you see that glimmer in her eyes.

“I thought she was very cool and now after two years…I find it quite hard not to almost worship her.”

Yelena swallows thickly and probes. “Why is that?”

“Because,” you sigh and your smile fades as your eyes fill with ache. Usually, you wouldn’t share something so deep from your heart to strangers, but you’re almost desperate to share the words you’ve harbored for the past two years and have replayed in your mind every day.

However, besides desperation and gratitude, you also don’t know if today is your last day on earth. Everyday since you came back from being snapped away you have always feared that the day you're living will be the last day. You're tormented by that fear and sometimes you do welcome it, you want it, but that's why you can’t go on not sharing what you have to say even if Yelena has an inkling of a connection to that very special savior.

“…She sacrificed herself for half of the population. For me,” you whisper softly. “She’s the reason I came back, so every day since I found out, she’s a reason I fight to survive. To make her sacrifice worth it.”

Yelena’s eyes flutter and she mutters. “Cool.”

You smile sweetly and as Yelena looks at you, you catch the quiet sound of her breath hitching and notice her lips show a quick sad frown before she turns away.

You cluelessly then move along to continue searching and luckily this go around Bob finds the box you need, so you tear the box open and find the treasure.

“And now,” you pause as you form little spiders that start to crawl alongside the wires with the command to reach the other wires that connect to the incinerator above your heads, the doors, and the elevators that will take you up because you know Valentina has now messed with them too to keep you—them all trapped inside.

“You know,” Bob interjects as you finish setting the command on your smartwatch. “I didn’t think you’d come. I thought you…forgot about me.”

You snap your eyes off your screen and look at him softly. “How could I?” You argue and lower your hand to turn and face him with an apologetic look. “I know it took long, I’m sorry it did, but I needed to find the right moment and it’s been hectic since Valentina started getting investigated, but I never forgot,” you make it known and passionately so because the moment came to explain yourself and you’re taking it because that’s all that’s occupied your mind since you left him behind.

“If I had it my way I would have taken you with me the day they forced me to leave,” you share, making him look at the ground with regret. “But just as I was going to bust through those doors I knew I had to think rationally. I’m sorry,” you say again and gently press your hand on his chest as you tilt your head down to try and meet his gaze.

“And Bob—”

“You’re here now,” he cuts you off before you could continue with your apology and the rest of what you needed to tell him regarding…well, all this mess.

“That’s all that matters,” he says as his gentle dark blue eyes slowly scale up to meet your gaze, making you both move your heads up in sync.

“I…shouldn’t have doubted you, I’m sorry I did, I just…never had anyone care enough to come back,” he reveals with a break in his voice. “But you did…I’ll never doubt you again,” he whispers and grabs your hand, keeping it pressed against his chest, and making the corner of your lips mirror the tender smile that glimmers in your eyes.

“I’ll never give you a reason to doubt me again,” you whisper back as you step closer, closing that already small gap, and making every breath unfurling over your lips a temptation to connect intimately once again.

“Because I’ll never leave you alone again. I promise,” you say and gently clutch onto his chest.

“Okay,” Bob whispers with a sweet growing smile.

You smile giddily and once again he’s the one who steals a kiss, proving he’s not as timid as he looks.

Albeit once again you both know where you are so you just prolong the moment for a little as you kiss him back ever so gently, like getting a taste of that forbidden sweet before bed, knowing in the back of your mind that you’ll have more again soon. You just have to wait.

“Help me put this last piece together,” you whisper against his lips before you pull away and grab your scarab from the air.

“Okay yeah, what do you need me to do?” He asks excitedly.

“You see those wires here?” You ask as you point to the intended wires. “I need you to connect the scarab's front legs the moment I cut the wires, okay? It has to be fast before it loses power.”

Bob nods and lets out a deep and shaky breath.

“Here,” you say and hand him the scarab as you grab one of your crescent moon daggers and quickly cut the wires, causing Bob to fumble for a second before he manages to connect the scarab to the wires, giving you almost complete power, but not completely yet.

“Great!” You praise him and put your hand out so he can meet it with a high five. “And now we wait for the spiders to connect to the incinerators, the doors, and the elevators. Once that is done I shut what needs to be shut, open what needs to be open, and turn on what needs to be powered back on from my watch! Isn’t that so cool?!”

Bob smiles at your enthusiasm and you grin at him.

“Thanks, honey.” You praise him again and then go and wait in the center of the room where you can see the others, choosing to take a seat on one of the many boxes while Bob looks around, and John Walker strains himself to try and open the doors.

“Okay,” Walker says as he finally gives up trying to force that door open. “I can confirm that the door is unliftable.”

You snicker and Yelena quips. “Wow, thank you we did not know!”

“For the hundredth time,” you interject. “This room is supposed to keep you in. It’d be a pretty shitty trap if you could force it open.”

“Okay, sure,” he scoffs, still in denial. “Well, at least I’m trying to do something about it unlike you or you know patient zero over there.” He says and without looking up you know he’s referring to Bob.

“I am trying to do something,” you argue. “Why do you think I’m on my watch? I’m just waiting on—”

Yet you go ignored when Yelena cuts in to address a different matter. “Hey. Job or not, can you have some respect, please?”

You glance over and see Ava rummaging through the dead intruder's weapons. Which somehow offends the blonde.

“Yeah, jesus,” John Walker quips as he approaches Ava and the body before actually doing the same thing as Ava—“Hold on a second.”

You look away as he takes a weapon after being judgmental and see that your spiders are getting closer.

“What?” You hear John remark. “She’d want me to have it.” He chuckles dryly. “I need it.”

Nevertheless, seconds later the lights suddenly turn off and an alarm blares before intimidating red lights brighten the room and a doomsday clock begins to countdown, meaning only one thing, Valentina turned on the incinerators.

She also definitely knows you’re here and doesn’t care!

Shit, shit, shit!

Your dad was right!

Okay, okay. You got this.

“What the hell is that?” John remarks as you hear the incinerators come on.

“That doesn’t sound like a shredder. It’s an incinerator,” Ava comments and you jump off the boxes you were on to run to the power source box.

“Two minutes,” Yelena points out and unknowingly piles on pressure to your already tense shoulders. “Then Valentina’s slate is wiped clean.”

“Come on, come on,” you mumble as you tap your watch as if that would make your spiders crawl any faster.

“You don’t know that for sure,” John argues completely in denial. “Could be for anything. Could be for when they come to pick me up.”

You would laugh but you’re stressed out at the moment so he misses out on your cruel reminder. Instead, Ava takes the job for you.

“Do you feel that? The temperature rising dramatically as if heat was involved?”

“Okay, it’s an incinerator.”

“Oh, boy,” you hear Bob chime in. “That is no way to go. But—”

“Well, how would you like to die today, Bob?” John interrupts him with annoyance.

“Well—”

“Okay, Ghost Lady,” Yelena cuts Bob off.

“Ava,” said woman lets her know.

“Sure. Whatever. Don’t care. We need to get you through the walls, so that you can open the door.”

“She tried that,” John Walker reminds Yelena.

“I know she did, but we haven’t tried shutting down the sound barrier.”

Before they could all go on Bob yells out your name, stealing their attention as well as yours.

“What?” You call in confusion and he goes on before he can be ignored.

“She knows how to shut it down. We found the independent power source.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that sooner, Bob!” John shouts before you hear three pairs of running footsteps come toward you, and a quiet voice left behind.

“I tried,” Bob whispers his response before joining the four of you.

“It’s here I’m just waiting on my—”

Before you can finish, just like before, and the same way they’ve been treating Bob, they ignore you.

“I can override this,” Yelena yells over the panic of the counting-down clock.

“But,” you try to input, but before you can say that you’re working on it John comes barging through.

“On your left!” He shouts and from one second to another, before you can say a word, he rams his tacky shield through the box, breaking your connection just as the spiders were about to finish.

“Or that works, I hope,” Yelena says whilst you gape in a loss for words before rage blinds you, causing you to throw out words before you can think.

“<YOU FUCKING STUPID BAFOON! IDIOT! STUPID!>” You shout in the first language that comes to mind, French.

“What?!” John yells back and you turn to him to throw your finger at him. However, before you can shout at him you then spin around on your heels and rip your scarab from the wires it was hanging from.

“<I should’ve grabbed Bob and just left guns blazing>,” you now ramble in Spanish as you walk in a rage, hearing Bob in the distance telling them that you had found a solution.

“<I should’ve left them. But no I tried to be sneaky and now. Ah!>”

“Accept my help and I can get you and your lover out of here,” Denwen adds to your annoyance by pitching in so without caring that you’re being heard, you spat back in English.

“No, you stupid idiot, I'm not taking advice from a three-thousand-year-old god who’s been trapped longer than he lived.”

“Nice job, Walker,” you hear Ava say. “You broke her. She’s talking to herself now.”

“No,” Bob defends you. “It’s actually an Egyptian deity.”

You miss their looks but when you turn to face John you can tell that they didn’t believe Bob.

“So were you born with a smooth brain?” You snap at John Walker. “Or did that super soldier serum give it to you?”

He turns in a flash with his eyes narrowed in a glare he pierces into you. “Excuse me?” He hisses.

You wave your hand to ignore him and walk to Ava. “You. I need you to take this,” you say, and grab her hand to give her the scarab. “It's already on. You just need to press this against the door's control panel and it will unlock the doors for us, okay? It’s that simple. You can’t open it any other way once it’s in this mode and I don’t have the passcode, so this will unlock the doors.”

Ava takes her hand away and clutches onto the scarab before she nods without actually looking reassuring. “Sure, kid.”

“Go, go, go,” John Walker pushes her as she’s running toward the door.

You sigh deeply and then run to the door, catching Ava disappear outside the room using her cool abilities with 22 seconds left on the clock.

“You think she’s coming back?” Bob asks as you fearfully watch for the door to open, but the clock keeps counting down and the heavy doors remain shut.

“She…” you trail off before you can try to be positive, feeling the stress, and the anger wear that positivity out, leaving you doubtful and fearful.

“I should have seen this coming,” John Walker mutters and the incinerators get uncomfortably hot while the clock only reminds you how close you are to dying.

Yet there is one ray of positivity that breaks through that dark cloud raging over you and that’s Bob.

You look at him after you steal another glance at the clock and you know one thing for sure, you don’t fear death. Death is a thought that has lurked in the dark corners of your mind, but a part of you always feared it until today. Right now. At this very moment, because of Bob.

Maybe he feels the same way or maybe he doesn’t. You don’t know, and you don’t ask, but he does look at you as you’re looking at him, and he gulps with tears glistening over his eyes full of so many things left unsaid. Things he regrets not saying sooner. Things he hopes are spoken and heard by seeking out your hand and securing it gently as if he holds the fragile world in his hand.

And maybe he does. Maybe to him, you are the entire gentle world. And maybe to you, he is hope, life, and everything that makes life worth living. You hope he knows that by the way you squeeze his hand in the same way you also hope that by holding his hand you won’t lose each other in the afterlife.

After that is settled yet unspoken, and before you can welcome death, you look at Bob in his gentle eyes one more time and offer him a tender smile.

Bob does his best to mirror it and before raging flames could rain down on you, you both close your eyes and wait.

Yet death doesn’t come. Salvation at long last arrives as Ava Starr gets the doors open at the last second, making all of you still inside sprint out.

However, as you reach the door, you can’t run fast enough to avoid the force of the fire that comes pouring down, so you’re all thrown out by the force, and darkness comes either way the moment you hit the wall.

——

*LATER*

“Little wolf. Little wolf,” soft muffled whispers echo in your mind before the sound startles you awake to see the dark piercing eyes of Denwen above you.

“You almost killed us in there,” he says as he stands up.

“I told you to stop calling me that,” you grumble and only push yourself to your knees because a pounding headache from the back of your head makes it hard to move.

“I have never once heard you say that,” he rebuts as he stands there and watches you.

“Well,” you groan and rub the back of your head. “Stop.”

He scoffs and throws his hand out, offering his help, but you shove it away. “I don't need your help,” you mutter and finally see clearly enough to look around, catching Ava Starr watching with her blank white mask.

“I’m not talking to myself. It’s an Egyptian god,” you mumble as said god makes himself scarce and you look around for Bob, finding him behind you sitting up.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you hear him direct Yelena before he looks away, finding you right beside him.

“Hey,” he whispers as his eyes go wide before he flips around to crawl over to you. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” you say as you pull your hand off your head. “You?” You redirect and study him, noticing nothing concerning. You just see him looking quite upset.

“Yeah, I’m okay” he assures that he has no physical wounds, but you see something troubling him.

“You sure?” You press and he nods before he grabs your arm and helps you up.

“Look at me,” Bob instructs whilst the others are talking in the back.

You do as he says and he studies you hard, letting you take this opportunity to try and ease his spirits since you really can’t go in depth about his feelings as of now.

“I see,” you interject as you look into his gentle eyes. “Pretty dark blue eyes.”

Bob blinks in surprise and a slight smile then breaks on his serious demeanor, making you smile with pride.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks again and his worry returns.

You nod and offer him a soft smile. “Yes, Bob, I’m sure.”

He steals one last hard look at you and once he doesn’t notice anything physically concerning he nods and steps back, letting you get a view of the others trying to find a way to open the elevator.

“It won’t open,” you break the silence and walk over to join Ava Starr trying to pry the doors open. “This floor is most likely in lockdown mode. Cutting off all power to any way out.”

“Well, Bob over there said you’re a genius, so what do you suggest we do?” She queries as she backs away and stands by you.

“Well,” you scoff. “Smooth brain over there,” you point back at John Walker, making Ava snicker. “Cut off the only connection I could’ve had to make the elevators work. So now the only way would be for you to go in and try to open it that way.”

Ava shakes her head. “The doors are too thick. I can’t walk through, I'll get crushed. Something else.”

“An explosion…”

“Would only damage the structure further,” she finishes for you. “That’s not mentioning the fact that it could damage the elevator itself.”

You nod. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I got that…well we’ll have to ask John Walker to make a hole through the doors.”

You both look back and catch said man running his mouth. “Everybody’s got a reason for being here except for weird and weirdo,” you catch him saying, making your face contort.

“I told you,” you repeat yourself as you walk over to join him and Yelena. “I came here for Bob.”

John Walker shakes his head. “You see I don’t believe you, but if you won’t tell the truth. I’ll make him. Hey, Bobby,” he directs at Bob as he takes off his helmet, revealing the same face you’ve seen on TV before.

“Less talking to yourself, more talking to us,” John exclaims and when you look over at Bob you see him ignore John and continue muttering, making you walk to John to stand up for Bob.

“Leave him alone. He already told you what happened.”

John sighs. “I’m tired of this bullshit,” he says and pushes past you to storm toward Bob.

“Hey Walker,” Yelena tries to stop him, but the man ignores you both.

“You tell me how you got in here right goddamn now,” John Walker demands in a harsher tone, making you take a step forward to try and storm over, but before you can, a hand hits your chest and pushes you back.

You look over and see that Yelena is stopping you.

“Don’t,” she warns.

“But…” you trail off and look at Bob with worry while you look at John with anger.

“I swear, man,” Bob finally responds. “I-I just woke up in this place. One minute, I was, you know, getting my blood drawn for this medical study, and the next I’m here,” he says and chuckles nervously. “In my pajamas. I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Walker, leave him alone,” you warn him but your voice goes unheard by him throwing a demand at Bob.

“Okay, then show me where you woke up!”

“In—in there,” Bob points back at the closed door. “My—she,” he adds and points at you over John’s shoulder. “She woke me up.”

“He’s telling the truth,” you back up Bob and step forward, making Yelena’s hand slip from your chest. “I woke him up from a capsule inside.”

John looks at you over his shoulder and rolls his eyes before he continues to argue. “Where everything’s on fire. That’s real convenient.” He says and turns around to walk off.

“Walker, relax,” Yelena tells said man whilst you finally meet up with Bob.

“Just ignore him,” you try to suggest even though you know it’s hard.

“You don’t remember anything?” Ava asks, making you and Bob peer over. “Bag over your head? A needle in your neck?”

“No.”

“Choke hold? Nerve pinch?” John chimes in.

“No.”

“I think he’s just a civilian,” Yelena proves to be the only rational one. Albeit she is wrong, but still she’s still the only one being kind.

“If he’s a civilian, he knows too much,” John exclaims. “If he’s an agent, he sucks. Either way, I say we throw him and her back into the fire.”

“Watch yourself,” you warn him and turn to Bob, catching him start to chuckle. “Bob,” you warn him softly, but he doesn’t let it go.

“Sorry. Look—you said you were Captain America?”

“Why are you laughing?” John asks in a more menacing tone than the one he was using before.

“Just ‘cause you’re an asshole,” Bob remarks as he continues laughing. “You know?”

John feigns a chuckle and then makes his way over, so you try to put yourself in front, but Bob moves away as if looking for trouble.

“It’s just funny, I mean…” Bob doesn’t get to finish before John grabs him by the collar and shoves him against the wall.

“Hey!” You exclaim and storm over, getting caught by surprise in that moment as you see the way Bob’s eyes glow gold again like that time before he fell into that coma.

It seems that John caught it too so he stops fighting, letting you grab his arm and push him back as you hiss at him. “What the hell is your problem? Seriously?”

“My problem?” He snaps and meets your gaze with fury. “What’s your and your boyfriend's problem?”

You get ready to fight back. You even get one of your gold crescent daggers out, but you see the way he falters as he looks past you, so you look back and see Bob’s eyes glow a brighter gold.

“Bob,” you call out softly, gaining his immediate attention and making his eyes lose that radiant gold in a second, so you then look back at John to flash him your dagger and throw out your threat. “Back off asshole.”

“Hey, whoa. Okay, okay,” Yelena comes cutting in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she says and pushes John back. “We swung our tiny dicks. It was a lot of fun. You two go find a way out. Bob, come with me,” she says and takes him by the arm, leaving you behind.

Bob looks back at you as he walks with Yelena, and you swallow thickly as you feel a familiar fire start burning within.

However, you remind yourself to breathe and that your lives are currently in danger so you look away from Yelena dragging Bob to the side of the room. Instead, you look around and notice your scarab still attached to the control pad outside the vault, so you run over and save it before you return to deal with the elevator, making Bob follow your every step when you walk by, while you glance at him before you fist your hands and walk by faster.

“You need to make a hole through the wall,” you direct at John as you swallow your vengeful rage to be able to get out. “It’s the only way to open the doors.”

“I’m sure there’s a button here somewhere,” he completely ignores you. Again.

“Just listen to the girl,” Ava backs you up, making John groan before he finally listens to something you said and brings his mighty shield back.

“Stand back,” he warns and shoos you both back, so you both take one step backward. Yet when he slams his shield against the thick stone he only manages to break through one layer of stone.

Now he didn’t say his intention, but you know he was planning to break through with one swing, so you and Ava actually meet each other's gaze and share an amused look and a stifled laugh.

“Performance issue?” You’re the only one who says something, making him pause. “Is that why you’re here?” You tease, making him scoff.

“Aren’t you like twelve?”

Ava chuckles. “Good one, Walker.”

“22, but not like that matters. Try again or Valentina will find us and finish the job. We can turn around if that works.”

He rolls his eyes before he turns to swing his shield again, managing to actually make a gap through the doors.

“Tens across the board!” You exclaim and Ava follows your lead and claps.

“You guys done with therapy yet?” John addresses Bob and Yelena, making you look back.

“I think I found a way out.”

“I? Excuse me?” You quip.

“We,” he whispers under his breath before he walks into the elevator with Ava.

You linger back and look back at Bob, seeing Yelena and him still talking so you bite your cheek and look away while you wait.

When Bob reaches you he brushes his fingers on your arm, taking your attention.

“You okay?” You ask as you look for any sign of his powers.

“Yeah,” he whispers and walks into the elevator with the others, leaving you back where you almost fuel the fire, but you remind yourself that you don’t want jealousy to control you, so you blow it off with a deep breath.

Nevertheless, before you can walk after Bob, a hand pats your back. “Are you okay?” Yelena asks in her Russian accent.

“Me?” You ask and think about it, but besides the headache that goes from pounding to annoying, you feel nothing. “Well, if I start convulsing then no.” You mess with her earning a worried look so you gently pat her shoulder. “I’m fine. Minor headache. It’s all good. You?”

She thinks and then nods. “I am not bleeding so yes.”

You scoff with amusement and at the sight, she smiles before you head in and get immediately interrogated by John.

“Okay, genius, how do you get this to work?”

You meet his very blue eyes and share a dry laugh. “Oh, now you ask? Well, I’ll tell you, I can’t because you destroyed the only connection I had to open the doors from down here. The first floor holds the power to the elevator and the way to hack it.”

“Great, Walker thanks,” Ava mutters and sighs in frustration.

“Then what do you have there?” Yelena asks as she points to your holsters, your shiny chain hanging over your hip, and your shiny dark silver vibranium-made bracelets that start at your wrists and travel down your forearm.

“Oh,” you mouth quite excitedly as you’re finally able to ramble about your gadgets. “My daggers and guns,” you point at your holsters and then drag your fingers to your chain. “Nanotech that I am able to make into tiny missiles, paralyzing agents, electrocuting gadgets, smoke bombs,” you mutter and then point at your bracelets. “And Vibranium bracelets.” You grin smugly, earning surprised looks from everyone but Bob who already knew all about your cool gadgets and such.

“Where did you get vibranium?” John asks.

You avert their gaze and mutter. “I stole it for Valentina. It’s a very long story, but that’s the gist,” you say and look up as you swing your hands and clap. “I didn’t have a lot so I upgraded the bracelets I already had.”

“Well, can any of that help us out?” John remarks and you shake your head immediately.

“No. Anything I make won’t be able to boost us up or be strong enough to carry us.”

“You should’ve led with that,” Yelena mutters under her breath before she looks around at the group. “Only way is up. Come on.”

With that said John opens the hatch and climbs out of the elevator first to be able to hold it open as Ava climbs up next. Bob pushes you to go before him so he gives you a boost so you can reach the opening and pull yourself up. You then help him up, making Yelena the last one to join you above the elevator.

Once the hatch closes you look up at the only way out and realize at the same time as everyone else how dreadfully long one mile is.

“So,” Yelena interjects, making you look down to look at her whilst your mind starts to run different ideas by you.

“None of us fly?” Yelena asks and looks at every single one of you hoping to get a yes, but you all stay quiet.

Bob can fly. The Sentry serum gave him that ability but it seems he’s only been able to manifest powers when he’s upset, and getting him upset for the sake of revealing his powers is something you won’t do. So you just glance at him and stay quiet.

“What, do we all just punch and shoot?” Yelena piles on the questions and gets no response, so John cuts in.

“Okay. Don’t worry I got this.”

You part your lips to question him, but John then steps in the middle so you get your phone out and quickly start recording. Seconds later, using the strength given to him by the super soldier serum, he hurls himself high up the tunnel.

He’s not seen for a moment but you know he won’t be able to jump high enough to reach the door, so you press your hand on Bob’s chest and push him back against the wall as you also walk back and wait.

Seconds later, after a second of silence, gravity brings John back down and he slams on the ground right on his hard shield, making you smirk as you caught all of it on camera, and making Bob cover his mouth with his hands while Yelena snickers, and Ava snips at him.

“You should try that again.”

“We’re pretty far down here,” John states the obvious between groans, causing Yelena to start chuckling while you stop recording and put your phone away before you step forward and offer John your hand.

Said man is hesitant to take your hand, but he accepts your help nonetheless and lets you help him up to his feet where he immediately shares another idea directed at Ava.

“Hey, okay, why don’t you walk up through the walls or whatever and then just throw us a rope down?”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest at his thoughtlessness, watching as Yelena agrees before Ava interjects with the truth.

“Okay, well, first of all, someone other than you would have to ask me. And second of all, I have to know where I’m going ‘cause I’ve never been able to hold it longer than a minute. So I’d just get lost in an ocean of dirt, and then I’d be crushed to death. All right?”

“Okay.” You nod and look up again with your hands on your hips.

“Just a minute?” John manages to take this time to mock her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“That was a stupid joke,” you mutter after Ava’s remark.

“Oh, my god. We suck,” Yelena mutters as she holds her head.

“Ah,” Bob finally breaks his silence. “I have an idea.”

And thus after that, you find yourselves climbing up the wall in a rather risky but effective position. You’ll have to give Bob his props for thinking of linking your arms and climbing up the tunnel together in a rather tight human circle.

“Very effective, great plan Bob.” You praise him after a while of climbing in silence.

“Oh, thanks,” he says quietly.

You would peer over at him but you can only catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eyes and nothing more, besides, your watch then begins to beep, making you glance at your wrist and barely see that your security bugs notify you of all of Valentina’s armed goons filling in outside the building.

“What was that?” John asks for the others.

“Valentina sent back up,” you let them all know. “They’re parking outside the entrance.”

“Great,” John grumbles and you breathe out deeply in agreement.

With that impending danger waiting for you outside, a tense silence blankets over all of you that drags on for some time with Bob only telling you what leg to move as you move up. It’s not until Yelena speaks up to complain that the tension eases.

“Ew, which one of you is wet?”

“I, I run hot. Sorry,” Bob apologizes before John also cuts in to complain.

“Someone’s got a weird, hard butt.”

“That’s not my butt,” Ava speaks up in her defense. “It’s my suit.”

“Well, you need a new suit,” Yelena quips.

“Oh, pardon me for the inconvenience,” Ava sasses. “I mean I only spent my entire life in labs hooked up to machines so I could create this physical cage to keep my material body from disintegrating at all times. So yeah, I’m so sorry about that!”

“You do not want to start the whole sob story game,” Yelena rebuttals with a chuckle as if this is some sort of competition. “I win. Enslaved child assassin over here.”

“Well, you were just a kid, so,” John actually offers some kind words which catch you by surprise.

“Oh? So that’s a good thing now?” Yelena remarks so John adds on to his comment.

“I just think it might be nice to know that you didn’t really know any better.”

“Thanks,” Yelena says sarcastically. “I feel way better,” she says before John fidgets, making the entire link move.

“Hey, quit it!” Ava exclaims, bringing you all to a stop to catch your breath. Unfortunately, though there are still some ways to go so you keep climbing because your lives do depend on it.

After some time, you finally see the damn door.

“Oh shut up!” You exclaim between pants. “I see the door! Finally! It’s taking everything in me not to take Walker’s tacky shield and throw it down. It’s so uncomfortable.”

“Tacky?”

“It’s crazy,” Ava blurts. “I can’t even see the floor.”

“Can we not talk about how high up we are?” Bob cuts in. “I’m just not great with heights.”

“Well,” you say and look up. “Just look up then, we’re almost there.”

“Okay, ah,” Yelena pants. “Now what?”

Well, you are tightly knit and if any of you let go you all fall.

“I would just like to let all of you know that if you let me go and I plummet to my death, my watch is registered to send a message to my dad,” you threaten them. “And he will hunt you all down. So think before you act. Walker.”

“Who's your dad?” Ava asks in confusion.

“A very scary man.”

“Okay,” John brushes you off, not taking you seriously even though you’re being completely serious.

“Well tell your old man not to get excited yet,” Ava says. “One of us should go…first?”

“Yeah, then we all immediately fall!” You point out.

“Ah, shit!” John says between his teeth.

“Sorry,” Bob stammers out. “I-I, yeah I guess I didn’t…I didn’t really think this far ahead.”

You part your lips to assure Bob, but John blurts before you can speak. “Genius plan, Bobby!”

You remember why you’re pestered by the man and quickly jump in to defend Bob as he mutters to himself.

“Always making things worse,” Bob whispers to himself.

“That’s not true, Bob,” you assure him before you yell at John. “It’s not like you had a plan, Walker! Bob was the one who got us up here so why don’t you stop being a dick.”

“Ah, these bloody boots!” Ava shouts. “I don’t think I can hold this much longer!”

“Okay, hand me your baton,” John yells over his shoulder. “I can reach it.”

You furrow your brows and Yelena protests your exact thoughts. “What?!”

“Yeah.”

“No way, you’re just going to leave us. Okay. Spin us around, and then I can…I can latch us on.”

“Yes please!” You back her up as it sounds like a plausible plan.

“I’m not spinning us around. Somebody’s got to go first.”

“Cucumber, cucumber, cucumber,” Bob suddenly shouts, making you all immediately drive your attention to him.

“What the hell is happening?” Yelena asks.

“Growing up somebody told me that you can stop a sneeze if you confuse your brain. I always just yelled “cucumber”,” Bob speaks quickly.

“Okay?” Yelena doesn’t understand.

“I have to sneeze,” Bob shares the obvious. “But if I sneeze then I’m going to lose control.”

“This is insane, okay?” John’s obnoxious shouts echo through the tunnel. “I can get us all out of here. I just need to go first.”

“No,” you protest. “There must be another way.”

“Oh, no,” Bob gasps and starts building up his sneeze, so you quickly snap your head his way and try the trick he just shared.

“Cucumber! Cucumber!” You yell along with everyone else in hopes he doesn’t lose control and make you all fall.

“All right! Come on! Okay, just give me this. I got it!”

Before you know it, before anyone could react, and before Bob could sneeze, you feel John turn his body to take the baton from Yelena, letting go of her and Ava in the process, and because he let go, the link breaks and you all free-fall back towards the vault.

You proceed to yell, feeling your heart basically drop to your throat as you feel gravity try to claim you for death, but you rebel. Instead, you proceed to pull out daggers to hook them into the wall.

However, the daggers slip from your hands with how fast you’re falling as you try to make contact, so you continue falling, hearing Bob yell out your name, and then seeing him reach out his hand as if that was all you needed to stop. It wouldn’t work, but in your panicked state, nothing felt safer, so with fearful eyes that match his, you stretch out your hand and realize how close you are as your fingers brush.

Thus using the air, you push yourself down and manage to grab his hand, and as you do something wraps around your ankle and brings you to a sudden stop. You continue to grip onto Bob with all the strength you can muster and so much more you didn’t know you had, while he grabs onto you with all his might to avoid falling.

“I won’t let go! Just hang on!” You yell at him and with a panicked look, he nods in comprehension. You then look up to see your savior, and see that it was Yelena who caught you with her wire as she hangs onto Ava, after Ava managed to hook something into the wall.

“Thank you,” you whisper in disbelief as Bob can’t help himself and sneezes—“bless you,” you say breathlessly.

“Thank you.”

“I got you,” Yelena whispers with relief softening her eyes while you nod as you breathe out heavily and keep looking at Yelena with a deep gratitude, feeling your heart soften, and knowing for certain that from now on you will harbor no ill feelings toward her. Whatever jealousy you felt is forever forgotten and a strong admiration grows in its place.

With that said, after John throws an emergency hose, you’re able to climb out, but not without letting him hear it.

“You selfish prick,” Ava snaps as you see her disappear over the floor.

“Yet, you’re all safe,” he rebuttals, which is true, but it was still selfish and stupid.

“I made a tactical decision to secure my own safety and ensure all yours,” he adds to his argument which doesn’t do anything to actually win you over—“pretty ungrateful if you ask me, but…” he trails off as Yelena climbs on and disappears, leaving you to be helped by him next, but you’re petty so you help yourself up onto the floor.

“Wow, nice upper body strength,�� John says as he watches you get up without help.

“Asshole,” you snap and before you walk off you crouch over the edge and wait for Bob with your hand out

“You gonna make it, Bobby?” John yells at Bob as said man struggles to climb up.

“Looks like you might have missed arm, leg, and chest day,” John teases as he watches Bob shake as he grabs onto the floor before he takes your hand and John's to let you both help him up.

“Take lessons from her,” John laughs.

“Come on,” you encourage Bob as he’s the last one to make it on the floor. “Are you okay?” You ask right away as you leave John behind doing well, whatever he stayed back to do.

“It was crazy,” Bob says as he looks around the unknown place. “But yeah. Are you?”

You sigh. “Ask me tomorrow.”

He chuckles and you come to a stop, bringing him to a stop soon thereafter.

“Bob I know I came for you, but there’s still a choice you can make now that you’re free,” you say softly, selfishly disregarding the promise you made to give him a choice he deserves to have. One you weren’t giving him to keep him close.

“You can either go with Valentina and finish your tests there if that’s what you want, or you can…come with me. I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I know how precious time is, so I am certain of how I feel about…you. So if you want the same thing, we can leave together.” You smile sweetly and grab his hand.

However, now that you’re not in danger of burning alive, or dangling from a mile-long tunnel, he disregards all that he knows he feels because here you stand, heart pounding and breath heavy after you almost died. Not once but twice. All because of him, so should he really curse you like he curses everything he touches?

Being with you was a nice dream, but maybe he doesn’t deserve to live it.

“I,” is the only thing he says before you both give your attention to John Walker as Yelena calls out for him as he approaches the edge of the elevator tunnel.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yelena queries as he’s too close to the edge.

John then looks back and realizes the same thing, lingering there for a moment before turning away.

“I’m fine,” he tells everyone, so you don’t bother to worry. You worry about going without a response from Bob. You know you'll know eventually and that is why you don’t press even if you really want to.

“All right, let’s get out of here,” Ava says as she opens the door that leads to the exit, making you all peek over the wall and get greeted by the sight of Valentina’s army waiting outside.

“I told you,” you comment and walk away from the wall before everyone else follows.

“Okay, we need to come up with a plan,” Yelena tries to take charge, but John cuts in at the same time.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

You narrow your gaze and look between both people.

“Oh, you’re the boss now?” Ava remarks John. “Cute.”

“Well, yeah, it’s our only chance of getting out of here so,” he argues

“Okay, I think I might just surrender, probably,” Bob says, causing you to snap your head towards him and protest.

“Bob?”

He averts his gaze and shakes his head. “I’m not letting you risk your life for me anymore.”

You shake your head, denying this selfish and stupid choice. “No. We’re leaving together. I decided.”

“You give me a choice,” he argues and meets your gaze with some small intensity. “This is my choice.”

“No—”

“Shut up,” John blurts. “Stop. Don’t do that here. Save your lovers' quarrel for later. After the rest of us get out.”

“Why should you be in charge?” Yelena argues. “You almost killed all of us right there.” She points to the elevator and he doesn’t give up.

“Well, let’s see. I’ve been in the trenches of every war-torn country on this planet, rescued God knows how many hostages, and shook the hands of two US presidents. What else?”

You shake your head and sigh.

“Ah, oh! High school state football champs back-to-back-to-back. Go Bears.”

You try not to but you snort.

“Oh wow,” Ava answers sarcastically while Yelena takes this time to share too.

“Wow. When I was five, I was in a peewee soccer team called the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts sponsored by Shane’s Tire Shop. We won zero games, and one time, this girl, Mindy, she did a poo at midfield.”

“Ew,” you say in disgust.

“Anyone else have any pointless childhood stories to tell?”

“Grew up in a lab prison,” Ava says so you continue after her.

“When I was five,” you say and point at Yelena. “I was so upset that I couldn’t score a home run in my baseball game, so I got home and rigged a baseball bat.” You share with a half smile. “Next game my bat malfunctioned and instead of a home run I accidentally hit my coach so hard I broke his nose.”

“Meth-addicted sign-twirling chicken,” Bob shares last. “It was a summer job.”

You hum even though you knew that already.

“Right. Okay, here’s the plan,” Yelena takes the lead. “We set off an explosion to bring them in.”

You shake your head and immediately argue. “Oh, no, that’s terrible. Too many variables with an explosion.”

“Okay, but they’ll turn on night vision,” she keeps going on and you nod at that. “You handle the first wave,” she points at John. “But you wait for me after I’ve blinded the remaining troops.”

“So I’m just gonna wait for ya?” John protests.

“It will only work if you wait,” she presses.

“Terrible plan.”

“Yes, I agree,” you’re forced to agree with him.

“Ava,” Yelena ignores you both. “You find an escape vehicle,” she says and the second she finishes Ava already disappears, leaving Yelena and John with something to do, but leaving Bob and you jobless.

“What about us?” Bob asks.

“You two stay behind me,” she says, completely ignoring your capabilities and not even considering either of you. She just proceeds to exhale deeply and activates her bomb as she starts walking off. “Let’s do this thing.”

You and Bob look at each other and share a confused look before you chase after Yelena.

“I told you once and I’ll say it again the explosion will leave too many variables,” you insist in hopes Yelena will listen. “Blinding them is smart, but you will fry those wires with an explosion.”

You fall by her side to hear her response but her eyes remain ahead.

“Did you hear what I just said?” You query.

Yelena turns and finally grants you her attention. “Cover my six then.”

You purse your lips together and nod before an explosion goes off in the distance that makes the floor shake and the lights flicker off. When you look at your watch, you see what you assumed, the army broke in.

“The soldiers just broke in,” you let Bob and Yelena know.

“Okay good, Bob hold this, “ Yelena says and hands Bob a flashlight as you turn the corner and come across the control room where you’re left to watch Yelena’s six because they don’t believe you can help.

Not even your father treats you this way.

“In one minute, these all go back on,” Yelena says as she flips switches on the control boards.

“Okay,” Bob says for the both of you as he looks around before he tries his luck at being able to help. “Maybe I should have a gun?”

Yelena turns to look at Bob and hums before she turns him down too. “No, I don’t think so.”

Bob peers back and probes you, but before you can grab your gun Yelena snaps and points at you harshly. “No.”

Your scowl and remark. “Excuse me?”

“We’re gonna need to fight, right?” So,” Bob insists.

“Mhm-hm,” Yelena agrees. “I will fight. You two stay behind me.”

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath. “Stay behind me.”

“You know, the medical trial was supposed to make me better, and I don’t know, I feel like maybe I could help,” Bob presses, making Yelena look at him suspiciously before she approaches, causing you to keep a curious eye on them.

“I thought you said that you didn’t know anything about it.”

Bob looks back at you, making Yelena steal a glimpse before Bob answers. “No, not much. Just her,” Bob points at you. “And that they said it was for people who wanted to make something better of themselves.”

Yelena hums in comprehension and you can’t help but look at Bob with pity.

“You can trust me, Bob,” she tries to assure him, but he questions her.

“Can I?”

Yelena questions herself before she contradicts herself. “No, not really.”

They both share a nervous laugh as you question why she would contradict herself when she’s proven to be trustworthy already.

Alas, you don’t interject, instead you continue to listen to Bob as he keeps sharing with Yelena most likely in hopes of gaining her trust enough to be able to help.

“I’ve always had these episodes since I was a kid. There’s…there’s a high, then there’s a big low, and then my memory just goes blank,” he says before Yelena continues working on the control boards. “But this time, I feel like there’s…I don’t know, something bad happened or I did something bad,” he says and piques your curiosity.

“I mean, everyone here has done bad things,” Yelena says, but he continues.

“I think this was like a whole new kind of—”

Before Bob can finish and just as he looks over at you as he was sharing his thoughts, Yelena’s alarm goes off, making Bob go quiet before he can finish, and leaving you curious to hear what happened.

Did he use those dark powers again?

“Lights up,” Yelena says and lifts the lever, but the lights in the room just turn off. Just like you knew they would.

“No. Why…why did that not work?” She questions before she walks down the room to mess with the boards while Bob walks to the lever and you do as she says and watch her six whilst you repeat ‘I told you so’ in your head.

“Well, you got to turn the power back on,” Bob says as he looks at the board to see what went wrong. “I mean you gotta blind the guys.”

“Yeah, I know that, Bob. And you, do you have something smart to say?” She directs at you and you only shake your head as you look around.

“No. I’m watching your six, remember?”

“Petty little thing.”

You smirk and she huffs.

“This was your plan,” Bob adds, making Yelena shout back.

“You’re not being helpful, Bob. Give me that,” she says as she walks to him and snatches away the flashlight. “Follow me.”

You leave your spot and continue to tail the pair, but not as quickly as before.

“I hate to say it, but I think Walter was right on this one,” Bob brings up while you begin to slow down.

“His name is Walker, Bob.” Yelena corrects said man as he’s startled by something sparking overhead, and while you slow down to a complete stop when they turn the corner.

Once you don’t hear either of them call out for you, you make a beeline back to the control room and insert your scarab into the slot beneath the touchpad on the boards.

“I told her so but she didn’t listen,” you grumble to yourself as you quickly hack into the system on your watch since you're connected and the boards aren’t working.

“Next, why not try listening?”

And with the last keys punched in you’re in!

“And let’s really get out of here,” you whisper smugly before you turn on an activation protocol that causes ‘Renegade’ by the Styx to start playing on the speakers in every room and hall in order to overwhelm the soldiers, while the lights start to flash to disorient them.

“Come on,” you tell your scarab and yank it out of the boards to shove in your pocket before you use your nanotech to make a mask and cover your face before you set off with your gun in hand.

Gunshots echo in the distance, followed by more gunshots so you quicken your pace. Eventually, when you start to see smoke rolling down the hall, you realize you’re close, so you slow down to a stalking walk.

Because of the loud music playing overhead, you can’t hear if anyone is yelling, so you can’t pinpoint where they are by sound. Luckily, you don’t end up needing their voices because when you turn the corner you find Bob tied behind Yelena.

Thus, since he’s facing the corner you turn, he notices you walking out of a cloud of smoke with your gun raised.

You don’t know if he says something, or if he tries to. You don’t even know how he reacts because of the mask on his face, but he points at you before he’s yanked as Yelena kicks back a soldier. Another soldier then approaches her with a rifle, but you hit your trigger and pierce them through the head, making them fall and letting Yelena take the rifle to hand it back to Bob.

“Take this!” You hear her yell so she can be heard over the music.

“Yeah!” Bob exclaims whilst you gain momentum by sprinting forward before you slide down on your knees to get ahead of the pair and hurl crescent moon daggers at two soldiers leading the way.

“How do I use it?” You hear Bob ask over the commotion.

“Point and shoot!” You and Yelena tell him at the same time before Yelena moves past you and takes out a soldier who charges at you.

More continue to move forward so you push yourself to your knees and charge forward as you take out one more crescent moon dagger. Before you can reach the soldiers you slide down between them and stab one in the leg before elbowing the back of his knee, letting Yelena finish him off before you spin up and grab the second soldier to slam his face in the wall before you take a paralyzing agent and shove it in his neck, making him drop on the floor.

Bullets go off in the background so you peer over and see Bob shoot a soldier on the foot, so as Yelena spins around, you pull out a dagger and turn on your heels to hurl it at the glass on his mask as Yelena swings her leg and kicks him, making a great combination between the two of you.

“That was awesome,” Bob praises with his rifle pointed at Yelena as she slips off the hose that she had used to tie Bob to her.

“Not at me!” She remarks before she grabs your arm and yanks you behind her as another soldier appears around the corner.

You want to help, but using the rifle Bob is still holding onto she turns him and shoots at the soldier that begins to shout.

“No! Stop! Stop shooting!”

You stop the protocol on your watch, making the music and flashing lights turn off. That’s when you make out a shield through the smoke.

“It’s Walker!” You shout so Yelena stops.

“It’s me! It’s John! Stop!” He bellows and rips his mask off so you can see.

“Where were you?” Yelena yells back as she rips off her mask.

“Where were you?” He redirects.

“The explosion fried the wires!”

“She told you! Too many variables. I knew it!”

“And then, you didn’t wait!” Yelena shouts back.

“I did wait, but the lights didn’t turn on, so I improvised in the dark until the lights began to flash and music blasted through the halls! Hadn’t it been for that I would have gotten swarmed because you didn’t listen!”

“Oh because…”

You tune them out and walk back to look at Bob. “I think we did good,” you tell him softly compared to the other two arguing.

“I think you did good,” he redirects sweetly, making you smile before you put your hands out and high-five each other.

A second later John stops yelling all of a sudden and looks into the distance. The three of you all watch him in confusion until he speaks up a lot quieter.

“Okay. We probably got about 60 seconds until they mobilize,” he reveals. “And if ghost lady actually did what she was supposed to, maybe we’ll all get out of here alive.”

You nod and then look around at the bodies on the ground. “Okay, well it’s a good thing there’s so many spare suits,” you say as you watch Bob's mask slip and fall back over his face. “That will be our only easy way out.”

“The girl is right” John actually seconds what you say, but you repay that favor by repeating your name.

“You can either use that,” you refer to your first name. “Or Spector. Not girl. I don’t like that.”

“Well, you are a girl—”

“Yes, but I don't like it. People have never meant it kindly when they say it referring to me,” you mutter as you undress a soldier. “Cursed mind or whatnot.”

Silence follows after your comment and Yelena, Bob, and you disguise yourselves in the suits before you make your way out right towards the enemy hunting you down with Yelena and John carrying Bob out while you limp behind them, hoping that following your fellow comrades doesn’t raise any questions.

“I don’t really want to be carried anymore,” Bob complains.

“Shut up, Bob,” John remarks. “You’re injured, remember?”

You all pass by Valentina, and all three of the people in front of you look, raising suspicion.

“Don’t look,” you hiss. “We’re a part of the team.”

They all look away at the same time, letting you drive all your focus back to Ava as you approach the stationed trucks and no Ava.

“We need a truck,” John points out.

“Where’s Ava?” You say with worry and dart your eyes around the grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

“She’s gone,” John says pessimistically. “Of course she’s gone.”

Nevertheless, before either of you could come up with a different plan a car rolls up behind you, making Bob probe. “Now what?”

You all look back and see what seems to be a self-driving truck until Ava proves John wrong as she appears in the driver's seat.

“Hey! Get in.”

You smirk with pride and smack John’s shoulders. “Have you tried not being so pessimistic?”

“Okay, girl.”

You shoot him a glare and then walk past him and head toward the back of the car without argument, feeling too tired to drive or deal with anyone up front.

Bob then joins you, leaving Yelena, John, and Ava up front.

“You two gonna be okay back here?” Yelena asks as she throws her rifle in the back.

“Yep!” You throw your thumbs up.

“Yeah. All good,” Bob proceeds to add.

“Yeah? Okay.” Yelena says before she closes the door, letting you take your mask off and exhale deeply.

Bob unmasks himself too and finds the inside of the car a good place to finally catch his breath the same as you. However, where he thought this place would be a good place to finally address this entire ordeal, you stay quiet and look out the dirty window with a crease between your eyebrow, your eyes slightly narrowed, and your cheek between your teeth.

Had he been anyone else he wouldn’t have known that you were upset, but he knew how to read you. He learned how to in those days you spent together, so he knows your mind is racing because of him.

“I made my choice. Like you said I could do” Bob breaks the silence as the car starts moving. “And that’s what I wanted to do,” he refers to the exact moment you were thinking about; him choosing to surrender himself.

“I know,” you whisper as you continue looking out the window with your eyes drooped.

“Then please say you understand. You look upset. I don’t want you to be upset.”

You draw in a deep breath and nod. “I understand. I just…thought you…it’ll pass.” You swallow thickly.

Bob sighs softly as he continues watching your troubled face, watching you unable to help the tears and your lips from trembling.

Thus before you could spill a tear because of him, he reaches out for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze, earning your attention at long last.

“I did choose you,” he says as if you were interlinked and he knew exactly what your troubled mind and heart were agonizing over.

“I would again,” he adds softly, making you offer Bob a wobbly smile while your heart and mind wash over with relief, reassuring him and making him caress your knuckles.

“Identify yourself, soldiers,” you hear an unknown voice as the car rolls to a stop, letting you know to be on alert.

“Part of the medical team,” you hear John come up with a quick lie. “Need to get the wounded to the hospital.”

“Medical bay’s set up north side.”

“Shit,” you whisper and strain your ear to pay closer attention.

“Nah, medical bay won’t suffice. We were headed off-base,” John quickly comes up with a response.

“No one leaves the premises until mission is completed. Orders are no deviations from protocol. Identify yourself.”

Before you can hear John’s response, in that tense moment, Bob squeezes your hands.

“Thank you,” he whispers, making you look at him in confusion.

“What?” You probe.

He looks into your eyes as if memorizing every detail out of fear he’ll forget you, and then offers you a tender smile before he leans in and steals a sweet kiss.

You don’t even get to savor it or process what he’s done before he pulls away and replaces the warmth of your hands with a cold gun.

“Bob?” You call out panicked as you start to fear the worst, but he doesn’t look at you or respond. He just opens the doors and jumps out, leaving you stranded and in agony because you know exactly what he’s going to do.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Sorry it’s so long! It just didn’t feel right stopping anywhere else! I hope you all enjoyed and are excited for the next chapter

Tagged: @broadwaytraaaaash @jasminemohmed @padsdarlg @seninjakitey @anonoussy @mateihavenoidea @queenofthekill @scoliobean @gmmsos @mr-underhills-things

[str8upjorkinit]

this didnt actually happen (but it would)

[manga-meow]

[orellazalonia]

What They Never Saw

Summary: Natasha confronts the woman, once trusted and admired by many on the team, and learns various information that forces the team to face more hard decisions, truths, and conversations.

Word Count: 2.9k+

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

The sky outside had gone from bruised lavender to navy, casting long shadows through the greenhouse walkway. Glass walls trapped the fading light, casting everything in cool blue.

She, the one the team had noticed a hundred times over before acknowledging you once, stood near the tall ferns. She was sipping from a mug with her posture relaxed. The same way she always seemed at the end of the day: quiet, observant, and vaguely warm.

Natasha’s boots made almost no sound against the stone.

“I was wondering where you’d gone,” Natasha said evenly, approaching with her hands in her jacket pockets.

The woman turned, soft smile already blooming. “Needed a moment away from the chaos upstairs.”

“I bet.”

Natasha didn’t smile. The silence stretched for a while. A less experienced person might have tried to fill it.

She didn’t.

The woman leaned back against the wall, cocking her head. “Rough day?”

Natasha tilted hers slightly. “Someone broke into our holding wing, unlocked secure cells. All our suspects are gone.”

Her smile flickered. “I heard. That’s awful.”

“No footage, no tampering, and no damage. Just access codes and perfect timing.”

“Sounds like someone knew what they were doing.”

Natasha nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sounds like someone who knows us well.”

Another pause, long enough to really register her words.

Then Natasha added, softly, “You weren’t in the briefing.”

“I wasn’t called.”

“No,” Natasha agreed. “You weren’t.”

The woman blinked. “Then why would I–“

“You always come anyway.” Natasha stepped closer, tone still light. “Even when you're not needed. You listen, weigh in, you smile at Bucky across the room like you’re sharing some inside joke. It’s kind of your thing.”

The woman laughed lightly. “Now you’re making me sound manipulative.”

“You sound like someone who knows what they’re doing.”

That smile faltered again, but only for a moment.

“I think you’re upset,” She said, voice smooth, “And looking for someone to blame.”

“Not blame,” Natasha replied, stepping closer. “Clarity.”

A soft exhale. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not your villain. I’ve been here for years. You know me.”

“That’s the thing.” Natasha's gaze sharpened. “I don’t. Not really.”

That got her, just a flicker in the eyes. The mug was suddenly very interesting to her.

“I’ve read your clearance profile,” Natasha continued. “It’s paper-thin. Half your references don’t exist. No psych evaluation. No training logs. But somehow, you got access. You were everywhere and were everyone’s confidante.”

Silence again.

Then, quietly, the woman said, “You’re wasting your time. If I were working against you, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Unless you wanted to seem above suspicion.”

She looked at Natasha then, for real. Something more direct behind the eyes now.

“I didn’t do it.”

Natasha didn’t look away. “But you knew it was coming. You could’ve said something.” Her voice was low, calm. But the weight of those words landed like a knife between ribs.

The woman sighed and traced the rim of her mug with her finger. Unbothered and soft, but something in her demeanor shifted.

“I didn’t open the doors.”

“No. You just handed over the blueprints.”

Her smile was faint. “I shared selective intel. Patterns, logistics, habits that no one thought to question. You’d be surprised how far a few overlooked routines can go.”

Natasha’s jaw tensed. “You gave them everything they needed.”

“I gave them what they asked for.” She sipped calmly. “They made the choices. Not me.”

“You gave away classified systems. Intel only a handful of people could access.”

“I didn’t leak weapons,” She said calmly. “I didn’t hand over targets. I didn’t sabotage your gear or reroute your drones or trip your alarms.”

“But you let them in.”

“I let the system trip over its own ignorance,” She replied, voice level with a tone almost too gentle. “They just took advantage of it.”

“You knew what would happen.”

“I had theories. Contingencies. But I trusted they’d be smart enough not to be cruel.”

Natasha took a step closer. “You’re deflecting.”

“I’m telling you I wasn’t careless.” Her voice remained pleasant. “Everything I did, I did because someone had to pay attention. Someone had to protect the people your team forgot.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed. “You think you’re the savior in this?”

“I think I’m the only one who noticed what was broken,” The woman sighed again. “People like her, like you used to be, don’t last long here unless someone intervenes. You all built this tower so high you stopped seeing who was beneath it.”

“You’re not fixing anything. You’re playing both sides.”

Her expression softened like a teacher indulging a frustrated child. “Sometimes the only way to fix a system is to stress-test it.”

Natasha stared. “You leaked classified security, let fugitives escape, and compromised the integrity of every person in this building.”

“I gave your enemies a way in,” She corrected, “So you’d finally realize the cracks they were already using.”

Natasha’s voice dropped further. “Why not just talk to us?”

“You wouldn’t have listened,” The woman said with absolute certainty. “You didn’t even notice when your own staff disappeared. You didn’t notice her.”

Natasha didn’t blink.

“She mattered,” She continued. “And so do all the others like her. Maybe not to you but to me, they were worth the risk.”

There was no guilt in her voice. Only quiet resolution.

Natasha took a long breath. “You’re confident for someone who just confessed to orchestrating a breach.”

“I didn’t orchestrate,” She looked at Natasha straight on. “I enabled. No mess… until you forced one.”

“And now?”

The woman’s eyes glimmered.

“Now we see whether you want to burn the whole thing down to punish me or finally build something that doesn’t leave your best pieces in the dust.”

Natasha stared at her a long moment and didn’t speak again. She simply turned and walked out of the garden, boots tapping steadily against the stone floor. But she didn’t go far.

She stopped just outside the door and pulled out her phone, tapping into the comms channel.

“Tony,” She said quietly, voice clipped but calm. “Lock down the greenhouse level. Section off Hallway C and redirect her access badge.”

A pause. Then Tony's voice came through:

“Done.”

Natasha took a breath.

“Add an observation order. No alarms, nothing obvious. I want logs. Where she’s been. Who she’s spoken to. Every terminal she’s touched.”

“Yep.”

She ended the call.

A second later, the lights overhead dimmed, a silent flicker that marked the shift. Nothing visible changed in the greenhouse behind her, but she knew the security level had quietly shifted from ‘internal’ to ‘containment protocol-lite.’

She didn’t need a team to drag her down screaming.

Not yet.

Just… containment. Controlled transition.

Natasha exhaled slowly, jaw tight. Her thoughts spun through what the woman had said, not just the calculated evasions, but the certainty of her tone. The way she hadn’t flinched. The way she kept control.

The kind of calm you only had if you’d already prepared for the fallout.

By the time she reached the upper levels, Steve and Sam were already waiting, tension lining both of their postures.

“Well?” Steve asked.

“She didn’t deny it,” Natasha said.

Sam crossed his arms. “Did she confess?”

“Not exactly.” She glanced toward the security monitors. “But she didn’t have to.”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Do we have enough to detain her?”

“Not formally. But we’re doing it anyway.”

A heavy pause.

Then Steve nodded. “Understood.”

“She’s not panicking,” Natasha added. “Which means she’s either still confident she can spin this or she has more leverage than we think.”

Sam’s jaw worked. “And if she’s telling the truth? About why she did it?”

“She still put lives at risk.”

“And if she’s not done?” Steve asked quietly.

Natasha met his gaze. “Then we find out what she’s still holding before she uses it.”

They didn’t use restraints. They didn’t need to.

The woman didn’t resist as the agents escorted her down the hall. There was no smugness, no drama. Just a calm, almost polite silence. She walked with her chin high, movements composed like a woman escorted to a different office rather than a suspect relocated for internal security risk.

But when they reached the private containment wing, she paused just a beat too long in the threshold. Not fear. Not hesitation. Just… calculation.

She looked around the pristine interior, cement walls, a soft chair beside a sealed observation window, a bench near the back of the room, then turned to the agents with a faint, ironic smile.

“This is temporary, I assume?” She said.

Neither agent responded.

The door slid shut behind her with a soft, final hiss.

She didn’t sigh. She didn’t sit. She just stood there for a long moment, like someone watching a house finally settle into its foundation after a long storm.

However, the main briefing room had gone quiet.

Bruce was seated at the end of the table, scanning through access logs with a grim expression, lips pressed tight. Sam stood off to the side with his arms crossed, his weight shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Clint had taken up his usual spot, leaning against the wall with a pen in hand, flipping it in distracted circles between his fingers. The rest had found a chair to settle in when Natasha returned to tell the rest of the team what happened.

The silence felt like holding a match over gasoline.

“She didn’t flinch,” Natasha finally confirmed, breaking it. “Didn’t give any details we could use up. But she knew exactly how to dodge each accusation. She didn’t have to admit anything, not when she’s that practiced.”

Clint stopped flipping the pen. “So she’s dangerous.”

Natasha nodded. “Quietly. Everything she does is calculated. She’s too calm.”

“She’s stalling,” Sam muttered. “Buying time for whoever’s still out there.”

Bruce looked up from his screen. “Or maybe she thinks she still has control. If you plan long enough, prepare for every angle… sometimes being caught is the plan.”

Steve finally stopped pacing. “So what now? We keep her locked up indefinitely? Question her until she gets bored of spinning circles?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Bucky said quietly.

Heads turned. The shift was immediate.

Bucky hadn’t spoken since Natasha’s debrief. He’d stood near the back of the room, arms folded, expression unreadable but now, as he stepped forward, there was something in his eyes that wasn’t anger. Not exactly.

Steve watched him closely. “You sure?”

“She trusted me,” Bucky said. “Or acted like it. Either way… if she talks, I want to hear it myself.”

“You haven’t been trusting her recently,” Sam reminded.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “No. But I wanted to back then.”

That landed heavier than it should have. For all his paranoia, for all his past instincts, there’d been a part of him that hoped he was wrong. That maybe, for once, the feeling in his gut wasn’t betrayal. That someone looking at him like he was worth understanding… actually meant it.

“I’ll go in soft,” Bucky added, voice low. “I’m not gonna give her the fight she’s expecting.”

Natasha tilted her head. “She’s not expecting a fight. She’s expecting sympathy.”

“And maybe she deserves a sliver of it,” Bucky said, voice rough now. “Or maybe I just need to hear why. Why someone who fit in, who was liked, trusted, listened to; decided to hollow the place out from the inside.”

No one argued. Not even Steve.

Clint just glanced at the ceiling, muttering, “She really messed this all upl.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. He was already halfway to the door.

Natasha caught up beside him. “She’ll try to read you. Twist your words.”

“She won’t get anything I don’t want to give.”

Natasha held his gaze for a moment. “Don’t go in trying to prove anything.”

“I’m not.”

He paused, just outside the security lift.

“But I want to know if she ever meant any of it. All that friendliness and smiles… the comfort.”

Another beat.

“Or if I was just the easiest one to use.”

Then the doors slid open.

And Bucky disappeared into the upper level where the woman waited too calmly.

The door slid shut behind him with a low hiss.

Bucky stood just inside the threshold for a long moment. Watching her.

She didn’t rise from her seat. She sat with one leg crossed over the other, back straight, and hands folded neatly in her lap like this was some kind of coffeehouse conversation and not an interrogation. Her expression was gentle, composed. She even offered a smile.

“James,” She said warmly. “I was hoping it’d be you.”

He didn’t return the smile. Didn’t move yet either.

He just stared at the woman he used to like, trust, maybe even imagined something more with once. Now all he saw was someone who knew exactly where to place the cracks and when to press on them.

“Don’t do that,” He said finally, his voice low.

“Do what?”

“Say my name like it still means something.”

Her lips parted slightly but the smile stayed.

“I never stopped meaning it.”

He stepped forward, arms folded, the lines around his mouth deepening.

“You don’t get to say that. Not after what you did.”

“I didn’t lie to you.”

“No,” He said. “Worse. You made us believe it was real.”

Their eyes locked across the room. Not enemy to enemy but something far more intimate than that. Wounded truths between two people who once, for a fleeting moment, might have become something else.

She sighed, “I never stopped being on your side.”

His jaw clenched.

“You handed over intel to people who’ve been dismantling everything we’ve bled to hold together,” He gave a sharp glare. “You undermined missions, compromised defenses. How’s that you being on our side?”

She didn’t blink. “I shared truths. What they did with them isn’t my fault.”

“You knew what they’d do.”

“Eventually,” She admitted. “But I also knew you all wouldn’t change without pressure.”

His voice dropped, low and sharp. “You put lives at risk.”

“So did your silence,” She answered, still calm. “So did every time someone got overlooked or forgotten. Pushed into shadows until they broke. Tell me, how long did you ignore her? How long did all of you pretend she wasn’t fading right in front of you?”

The mention of you hit like a bruise.

Bucky stiffened. “Don’t use her to defend yourself.”

“I’m not,” She replied. “I’m using her to show you that I wasn’t the only one who failed.”

He swallowed hard. His voice was rough now.

“But you were there too. You watched it happen. And you waited until it hurt you before you cared enough to act.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” He countered. “You acted like you were the only one who saw the rot. Like you had the right to decide who deserved to pay for it.”

“I never wanted anyone to pay,” She admitted. “I wanted it to change.”

“And you thought betrayal would fix it?”

“No,” She hummed. “But I thought maybe shaking the ground would make you look down for once.”

“You were someone I trusted,” He said. “Out of everyone, I thought you saw more. And maybe you did… but you still chose them.”

Her gaze didn’t falter. “I chose truth.”

“No. You chose what made you feel powerful.”

She exhaled slowly, the first sign of irritation finally showing in the tension around her eyes. “You don’t get to paint me like I’m some villain just because you feel betrayed.”

Bucky’s stare hardened. “And you don’t get to pretend you’re clean just because you used pretty words.”

A tense silence stretched between them.

“I didn’t forget her at least,” The woman said, quieter now. “I watched her, almost every day. I noticed when no one else did. And I hated how easy it was for all of you to overlook her.”

He shook his head. “And yet, you still let her walk out that door without asking her to stay.”

Her voice cracked, barely. “You did too.”

That landed deep. And neither of them said anything for a long time again, until she sighed.

“Don’t act like you’re different from me,” She spoke, voice soft and sweet. “You saw her breaking. You cared, but you didn’t reach out. You stayed comfortable just like the rest.”

He stared at her, chest tight.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” He said finally, quietly.

Her expression shifted then. Not of regret but something like quiet ache.

“I liked you, James.”

He flinched slightly at that.

“Don’t.”

“I did. I still do,” She said gently. “I guess, maybe… maybe I got tired of watching people like her disappear while everyone else laughed at a table she didn’t get invited to.”

Bucky’s voice dropped into something hoarse. “You could’ve reached out.”

“So could you.”

The silence between them stretched, thick with everything unsaid.

He whispered, “What we had, was it ever real.”

Her answer came without hesitation.

“Yes,” Her expression was soft. “But maybe not the way you needed it to be.”

And just like that, she leaned back again, composed as ever. Still in control.

And Bucky, hurting in ways he hadn’t expected, turned and walked out without another word.

Taglist: @herejustforbuckybarnes @iyskgd @torntaltos @julesandgems @maesmayhem @w-h0re @pookalicious-hq @parkerslivia @whisperingwillowxox @stell404 @wingstoyourdreams @seventeen-x @mahimagi @viktor-enjoyer @vicmc624 @msbyjackal @winchestert101 @greatenthusiasttidalwave @avivarougestan @saoirses-things @itsmejen @saucysasha2035 @smokescreen1000

[ramonag-if]

Crown of Exile Chapter 11 Update - Patreon Access

The Patreon demo has been updated to include Chapter 11. To play the update, join any tier of my Patreon.

New to the chapter:

Plan your trip to Cyre;

Choose a mare (if you haven't);

Set out to Solime;

Free Miva;

Confront Morden and Virion;

Escape the Blood Guard;

Return to Cyre;

Mourn Ahlf;

Address love confessions in Ishari;

Prepare for war; and

Much more.

Chapter 11 is the second-last chapter of the game. Work on the final Chapter 12 has already commenced. If you can't wait for the Steam release of the game (Chapter 12 will take a while), consider becoming a Patron to get access to sneak peeks, weekly devlogs, side stories and early access to updates.

[matttyyb0i]

tw chapter 11 >_<

[momo-no-tane]

[madokamanga]

[my-world-my-stories]

(...)

"With just a few dabs, the blood wipes off quite easily as it was already dry. In fact, most of their injuries were healing at an impressive rate. They really were something out of this world. 

While she worked, her eyes began to wander over their form, despite her self-reprimands of before. It was hard not to. 

Their back stripes are beautiful. She never had a full view of them due to what they usually wore, but now, the tiger comparison was only getting stronger. Deep black against a bright orange tinted with red. Such a striking contrast. It was a great temptation to not try to run her finger along them, but she held back. 

The scaly texture under her fingers was a pleasant sensation. It's like she was petting a crocodile, feeling every bump and ridge of their scale. They're incredibly warm. Boiling she should say, since the air around them felt like she is standing right next to a heater, making her sweat a little. 

She made sure to not stare too intently at their ‘lower regions’ out of respect." (...)

(Insert from Chapter 11 of Songbirds And Tigers)

[everyakipanel]

Chapter 11: Compromise

[damn-stark]

Chapter 11 Eternal eclipse

Chapter 11 of Tragedy at the Miller’s

A/N- This chapter was an emotional one to write, more than the previous one

Warning- ANGST, talks of violence and death, thoughts of suicide, spoilers for season 2, Remember this is a rewrite not an AU, so the major stuff that happens in the show will happen here :)

Pairing- Joel Miller x daughter!reader (platonic of course :), OC x Fem!reader

Episode- 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know!)

————

What sweet escape is there from the deafening echoes of your father’s screams torturing your every waking second?

What mercy will erase the violent memories of him getting violently beaten to death?

What trick can you play on fate so it can cut your life line and stop you from hearing your father's last words repeating again and again, adding to that merciless torture?

“Don't look…baby.”

What is the answer to all your loaded questions? If it was not Abby, then what?

You look around the clinic bathroom for a quick answer, something that will let you join him quickly, but you find nothing until…you look past your reflection. There in the depths of that steaming bath water is your answer…

Nothing can be as painful as the torture you went through, and will go through from here on out, so there’s no hesitation or fear. You were supposed to undress and wait, but you dip in the bath, getting quickly enveloped by the steaming water, and seeing darkness when you close your eyes.

A part of you expects all that grief and trauma to follow you, but there’s a peaceful abyss in the darkness, so you sink under and wait to finally be complete with your family.

It’s the only way to know peace again. It’s the only way to end the pain that awaits you. It’s…the only way to be with him again…

Yet…you can almost muster a laugh when you hear the door open, letting in fate’s intervention. Your husband, Apollo.

Said man sees you completely sunken in and reaches in to pat your shoulder, making you rise from the water and not care to wipe the water off your eyes when you open them. You just sit there with your eyes downcast and dark, with the horror still clinging to you.

“I told you to wait for me,” he says the same way he’s been speaking to you since you reunited in the middle of the street; softly and like he’s afraid that if he speaks any louder, he’ll hurt you in some way.

“At least you helped by loosening up that dry blood,” he adds so he knows he’s not scolding you, he’s just reminding you kindly of what he told you—“I'm going to start with your face, okay, my love?”

You don’t respond or acknowledge him, you simply sit still as he rubs soap on the rag and then gently touches your face to gently and slowly scrub your father’s blood off your face.

“Maria and Tommy will be back, they just have to take care of other things around town,” Apollo fills the morbid silence. “Our friends will come visit soon, and my dad will take Teddy home later. If not, Maria said he can spend the night with her.”

Finally, after a long silence, you shake your head, letting him know without a need for words that you want Teddy to be home, and he doesn’t argue against it, not in your state.

Apollo would actually not dare to try and upset you at all, thanks to Maria and Jesse, he knows why you returned home in such a disarray. He doesn’t know what exactly happened or how exactly you got hurt, but he knows enough to ask for time off work to be with you and be extremely gentle with his words and actions.

He wants to know how you ended up getting hurt, but he can’t bring himself to ask, so he has no choice but to wait to read the reports. Until then, he just washes the blood off your face, and when there’s no trace of red left, he moves onto your hands, skipping your throat because the nurses had cleared that area when they tended to your wounds. However, when he starts scrubbing your hands, he notices how filed down your nails are, and the cuts on all ten of your fingertips, almost as if you had scraped your fingers until they bled.

Once again, he doesn’t ask; he just tends to you quietly until finally you lift your eyes off the water and pull one hand away to start signing.

Now, he doesn’t know as much as you do, but he knows the alphabet, so he understands when you sign, “ELLIE.”

“Oh,” he gasps and lets his hand hang over the bathtub to give you the answer you seek. “She had some broken ribs. They’re tending to her now by the best doctor, Mia,” he lets you know with a smile in hopes you’ll mirror it, but you just express faint relief and a light nod.

“She’ll need to stay here until she heals,” Apollo continues to share. “Which is good knowing her. She’d probably try and get back to work tomorrow.”

You nod again in agreement and then pull yourself closer to the edge of the tub to ask after someone else.

“DINA,” you sign, making Apollo continue scrubbing your hand.

“She’ll be fine. The drugs have worn off, and they'll tend to that frostbite on her hand,” he lets you know, making you let out a short and deep breath of relief before you continue to look down at the water.

“And you,” he adds sweetly and with another sweet smile. “Will get to go home today. There’s no need to stay with a bruised throat. I think you’ll be more comfortable at home anyway.”

Home…

It’s supposed to bring you peace. It’s meant to be an escape from the everyday commotion of work and this apocalyptic life. You hoped with every fiber of your being that it would be an eternal escape anyway, and in some way, it is some escape. Home does offer some peace, but only because it offers sanctuary from the outside world.

You don’t fear that the infected will roam the streets, that’s not why you don’t leave home when you step foot in it. Home doesn’t keep the violent and painful memories away; no, you have those every day and every night.

When you close your eyes the first night at home, you think you’ll be in that peaceful abyss once again, but you end up back in that lodge, seeing your dad slowly slip away right in front of you.

Every single night it’s like you’re being tortured, feeling every raw ounce of grief and crippling pain. It reaches the point that Theo needs to start sleeping in his own room so he wouldn’t be startled awake by your screaming. You had advised Apollo to do the same, but he refused to, so every night, like clockwork, he wakes up to you screaming and offers you the comfort of his soothing embrace.

Apollo is the sweet reminder that you’re not there again, so you keep him close. Being near him or in his embrace eases your pain and makes days easier to navigate, but he’s not enough to ward away your paranoia. It’s why you don’t leave home for three months, because home is a sanctuary. Home keeps you from failing your dad again, it keeps you from being taken back to that lodge again and watching him get beaten to death.

Albeit eventually, sometime throughout those three months, Apollo has to return to work. He’s the head of the construction unit now, you see, because the previous one died, so who else can fill his shoes but the man he mentored?

Yet you’re not alone. You’re never alone when he’s gone. If it’s not your Uncle Tommy, it’s Maria, or Mia. Even Dina is around sometimes, but you’re never at home alone.

That would annoy anyone; it would annoy you when it hit a certain point, but why would a corpse be annoyed?

That’s what you are. A shell of a person who has a beating heart, working lungs, but no soul. It was sucked right out of you, leaving you roaming the earth like a corpse.

You do eat, but hardly. You take care of your son, but every achievement he makes passes over your head. You listen to Apollo, your Uncle Tommy, Maria, your friends, and Dina talk, but you never respond to anyone besides mindless nods and blinks.

Life just passes by. The snow melts, the bitter coldness begins to leave, and day by day spring slowly takes over the earth, but everything might as well be bitter, dull, and lifeless because you don’t bother to care.

It comes to a point where everyone who loves you, except for Ellie and Jesse, meet up at your house to talk about you, thinking you’re busy putting Theo to sleep. Albeit he's quick to fall under the spell, so you overhear everything that is said.

“It’s been 3 months, Mia,” you hear Uncle Tommy raise his voice at your friend. “If something is wrong with her, you need to tell us.”

“N-No,” Mia argues. “Nothing is wrong with her. Her wounds have healed. She should be able to talk now.”

“Then?” Your uncle quips with worry.

Mia sighs, and there’s a moment of silence before you hear Gail, Mia’s adopted mom, speak up for her daughter. “It's a trauma response. She may not be doing it on purpose. It’s her mind's reaction to everything that happened that day, but now it all depends on her. You can’t force her to speak. She needs to decide on her own.”

“And if she never does?” Maria asks with the same concern that everyone in that living room carries.

“Then she never does,” Gail puts it bluntly. “But either way, I’m going to start her therapy tomorrow. That's what you still want, Apollo?”

A second of silence passes before you hear your husband speak. “Yeah. We've been putting it off for long enough, and I…I don’t know how to help her anymore. Her nightmares don’t stop, and I…I don’t want her to suffer anymore. She doesn’t sleep. She doesn’t eat. I…don’t want this to take her. So please. Come.”

Tears slip from your eyes, and you rest your head against the wall as you take in his words and think about everyone gathered in your home, worried about you.

You don’t want them to be worried. You don’t want to be a burden. It’s all just…impossible.

Life…without him…

If you make a sweet escape, no one will worry. You’ll be no one’s burden, and most importantly, you’ll be with them again; Sarah and your mother, whom you never got to meet but was your dad's great love, according to your Uncle. Most importantly, you’ll be with your dad again. You crave that sweet afterlife so dearly…

An end to the pain…

However, one of the reasons you don’t take that path suddenly stirs awake and looks up at you with his father's sweet eyes, making you wipe your tears off your cheeks and muster a soft smile.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

And then, in the silence of the day is an interruption. A disturbance in your day-to-day life.

Yet even though you were broken from the spell you were under, you don’t move to open the door after a visitor rapped their fist on the wooden door. You don’t pretend to be busy, you remain seated in your rocking chair with your blanket covering your legs and your crocheting project in the same state it’s been for the past three months, just a square.

The visitor, on the other hand, walks into the living room trailing after your Uncle Tommy, revealing themselves to be Gail. As predicted.

“Hello,” she greets as she walks past your Uncle to stand at his side and face your pathetic state, and since you can’t speak, you just offer her a tight-lipped smile before you look down at your crochet square and pick up the needles to pretend to be busy.

“Well, make yourself at home. I’ll be close by,” your Uncle Tommy interjects in the awkward silence, taking no time to turn away and walk off, leaving you alone with Gail and her intentions, you really don’t plan to entertain.

“Well, you can put that shit down, we both know you weren’t doing it before I got here anyway,” she says bluntly, making you pause and wait a moment before you drop the needles and keep looking away.

“We’re also not going to pretend that you don’t know why I’m here. You’re smarter than that, so get up and come with me.”

You draw out a deep breath and slowly raise your head to face her with a glum look, making her think you’re going to give her a hard time, but you pull the blanket off your lap and toss it on the couch before you rise off your seat.

“Good,” she praises you and doesn’t fret to walk off. You follow after her at a normal pace, not giving much thought to her grabbing a bag next to the doorframe, and not asking questions about where she’s taking you. You follow her until you notice that she’s heading to the backyard. That's when you stop in front of the back door, hoping that the door will close behind her, securing you inside, but Gail is quick to notice that your footsteps are not trailing after her, so she turns and manages to catch the door before it closes.

“Come,” she beckons you outside. “Just to your backyard.”

You step back, telling her that you refuse to follow along now, but she takes a step past the door as she keeps it open, and hardens her gaze.

“There’s no point in making you,” she argues. “But if you want to be difficult, I will be difficult right back. Come. Outside. I need you to see something.”

You think about her threat and know she means it, but what is her persistence compared to what she wants to show you?

You have an idea as to what she may want to show you after all, and even the thought of it makes you want to cry.

“Ellie gets out of the clinic in a week,” she then cuts through the silence to share that bit of information about a girl you haven’t gone to see in three months.

“Do you want her to see you the way you are? Is that the example you want to give your sister?” She cuts deep, forcing you to think about what she said and come up with an answer, which is no. You don’t want her to see you the way you are. That’s not the image you want her to have of you after she gets out of the hospital.

You want her to see someone…handling her grief. An example of strength so she can be so and know that it will be okay. Yet how can you be the very picture of that with the way you look now?

Thus, you drag out a deep breath and step forward, making Gail offer you a tight-lipped smile before she continues her path outside.

This time, you trail after her, and the moment you step outside, you gasp deeply as you’re hit with the simple touch of fresh air. You then immediately shield your eyes from the sun’s rays breaking through the branches of the great oak trees that live around your backyard, and duck your head whilst your shoulders tense up as you’re offended by all the noise that travels through the sky.

When you finally manage to catch up to Gail by the garden of wildflowers, your discomfort slowly washes away. The sun still slightly burns your skin and bothers your eyes, and the noise is just as annoying, but you don’t let it drive you inside. You let it all be as you keep your eyes on the vivid green leaves that decorate the oak tree.

“Look down here and tell me what this garden means to you,” she gets right to business with a strict and professional voice.

You remain defiant though and let your eyes wander the trees, feeling the sun stop burning and start feeling warm and kind against your skin.

“Look,” she presses with her voice raised, and so you proceed to blink and drag your eyes down, but you keep every feeling, thought, and memory at bay.

“So?” Gail probes.

You simply shrug, making her sigh and crouch to study the little yellow rue flowers that take part in the great wild garden.

“I think these Rue flowers are lovely,” Gail shares her thoughts, making you cross your arms over your chest. “When did you plant these?”

You don’t say anything, of course and since she already knows the answer, she continues for you.

“Was it after you came back five years ago? They’re very pretty.”

You bite your lip and glance away.

“These purple ones are really nice too,” she adds, and so you grip onto your arms and keep your eyes averted.

“Everything is just so lovely. I think there’s a purity to flowers. Grace. A resilience and a rather dependable beauty in this new life. You know? Infected roam the earth, bad people live amongst us, but this…these flowers are something you can always count on when you want to see something so perfectly beautiful. Furthermore, when you can’t see them, at least you know they’re still here, growing tall even through it all.”

You look down and see the picture she paints with the flowers. You can understand everything she says, but every personal meaning you have connected to all that’s beautiful is still kept away.

You meant to lock it away in the dark corner of your mind, but you weren’t strong enough, so it came rushing down. The only thing keeping it from completely crushing you is your fight to keep it at bay.

“Oh, ok,” Gail sighs and pushes herself to her feet before she pulls out something small from her bag that fits in her balled hand.

“If this doesn’t mean anything, then you won't mind if I torch it, right?” She says and catches all your attention.

“Tell me,” she huffs and reveals a match and a striker as she opens her hand. “What does this wildflower garden mean to you?”

You watch her pull out a match and hold it up between her and you.

“The yellow flowers are Rue flowers. You planted them with your dad in memory of your mother. Am I right?” She asks, and since she doesn’t get an immediate answer, she answers for you. “Yes, I am right.”

You swallow thickly and drop your arms to your sides to ball your hands tightly in defiance of what she threatens to bring out.

“The rest of these beautiful flowers are a reminder of who you’ve lost, right? Right.” She nods. “But mostly your sister. The one you and your dad adored. The one who looked after the both of you. The one you would spend breakfasts with just before she had to go to school and your dad had to go to work—”

You shake your head, and your eyes begin to sting along with your throat as your mind slowly gives signs of pain.

“These flowers aren’t just a reminder of her. But of that life with her and him. They’re the reminder that no matter what, your sister and now your dad will always be with you. Even if the flowers themselves aren’t showing, you know that they’re still here, underground, in the same way your dad is and will always be here. With you. Even if he’s not alive, he’s still here…with you. So what if I torch it?”

She won’t do it.

She won’t dare to, so you don’t give her what she wants or what she threatens to set free.

You remain defiant, so she chuckles maliciously and lights the match before she holds it up between you and her again.

“You think I won’t do it?” She reads your mind and smirks at you before she tilts her hand down to let the match dangle between her fingertips.

“Watch me,” she snaps, and you see her loosen her grip, making your heart begin to race with fear.

“I won’t let it burn my fingers,” she adds and looks down at the match before, in the blink of an eye, she lets the match go, causing your eyes to widen, and a breath to catch in your throat seconds before you reach over with the attempt to catch it.

Albeit you’re too slow, the match hits the ground, and the flames don’t hesitate to start wanting to consume everything in its path. So before they can kill the beautiful wild garden that holds everything sweet and hopeful, you quickly stomp out the fire and look at her bewildered and with tears welling in your eyes.

“Tell me,” she insists softer, and this time, after she almost took it all away, you feel it break like a weak dam.

Everything you tried so hard to keep away comes bursting out like a cascade of water, and when that happens, there’s no way of trying to put it all back in. It’s too late and impossible. Everything comes apart.

Every attempt to keep every feeling back washes away. The memories of the day you lost your dad are loud, and his last words are even louder, but it’s every single memory where he wasn’t being tortured, where you were happy, and when he was simply alive, that consume you completely, dragging you under the surface where you can’t breathe because of the emotions that come rushing up your throat, and where you can’t see because of the tears that cover your eyes.

The only way to breathe is by coming up for air, so you do. You surface and take that breath, and when you do, you can’t help it, you start to let out a mighty, painful wail like never before as if you had been holding everything back and only now were able to let it out.

It hurts. It really fucking hurts. It’s like every part of you is on fire, but you can’t stop. You let it all out and continue to wail for the father you loved and lost.

You lose your balance and fall on your knees. You almost fall on your hands, but there to catch you is none other than your Uncle Tommy, who had been on standby by Gail’s instructions.

“It’s okay, baby girl. It’s okay.” He whispers as he cradles you. “I’m here.”

You grip onto him and part your lips to utter your first words in months. “He’s…he’s gone,” you say hoarsely and wail again before you bury your face in his chest and sob like the day he died.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “He is, but never forgotten.” He whispers, and you cherish it as you weep and continue to weep. The pain of grief and loss doesn’t wash away with all your tears, nor does it just go away when you muster the will to speak again. Maybe grief will be a long companion, but the wildflowers are vivid with color, the sky is a sweet hue of blue, and the sun is brightly yellow.

“I think…these flowers will look just perfect in your garden.” Your Uncle says after Gail left, and you were able to stop crying, and able to pull yourself away. “Don’t you think?” He asks and pulls out a couple of lovely blue Irises still connected to its root, begging for it to be part of the dirt so as to not die.

“Gail brought them for you to plant,” he says, giving you the answer as to why Gail was carrying a bag that she left here.

“Where should we put them?” Your Uncle asks and brings the flowers down to a spot already occupied by many a flower. “Here?”

You scoff and remark at him hoarsely. “Are you jokin’?”

He sniffles and flashes you a sly grin before he gets on his feet, making you mirror his actions.

“There,” you point out and lead him to the spot to give your new flowers a place to thrive.

After a while. After you planted the Irises and spent time in your wildflower garden, basking in the sun your body has lacked for three months. Apollo comes home from work, finding you and your uncle sitting on the bench swing.

“Hey,” he says with an air of disbelief and hope as he sees you outside for the first time in months.

“Hey, Apollo,” your uncle greets your husband as he walks over to join you by the bench swing.

“Hi,” you still can’t get your voice to sound clear, but it’s not like it matters to Apollo; he still looks at you with shock, pride, and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he gasps and quickens his pace to reach you faster, making you get off the bench swing to let him embrace you and undoubtedly hug him back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” he coos as he holds the back of your neck with one hand and rubs your back with the other.

“Teddy?” You ask for your one-year-old.

“He was sleeping, so I put him to bed.”

You hum before you hug Apollo tighter, not saying it then, but demonstrating how much you love him.

You can’t even begin to fathom how alone he must’ve felt in the time you didn’t talk, and you were there physically, but mentally, you just weren’t there.

He could’ve given up or not been so patient, but he never complained or turned his back. He held you every time you woke up screaming and when you’d cry in the middle of the day.

“Well,” your uncle breaks you and Apollo apart, but you don’t stray from one another. He keeps his arm around your waist and you tuck your hand in his coat pocket—“I’m going to head out now. You’ll be okay?”

You sigh shakily and nod ever so lightly. “Yeah. Tell Maria not to come tomorrow. I…don’t know what I’m going to do, but I know I don’t need to be looked after anymore. Thank you.”

Your uncle scoffs. “Of course, Sunny. Don’t mention it, but how about dinner, then? At our place? It’s okay, don't bring anything with you.”

Without needing it to be discussed, you nod to give your uncle the okay, making him smile before he begins to head out.

However, before he can leave, you break away from Apollo to catch your Uncle in an embrace. “Thank you, Uncle Tommy,” you whisper shakily.

“You don’t have to mention it okay?” He assures you. “It was nothing. We’re family. Always.”

You nod, and he holds you closer before he interjects.

“You remember where we put your dad to rest, yes?” He asks.

“Yeah. I remember,” you let him know and then pull back. “Get home safe.”

He scoffs and nods before he waves Apollo goodbye and then leaves, leaving you and Apollo alone in the garden where you look at the flowers and think of everything you need to tell him. Everything he needs to hear after three months of you being…not here.

“Apollo,” you don’t hesitate to say, and look away from the flowers to meet his already attentive gaze. “I—”

“Don’t say it,” he cuts you off and closes the gap to be face to face with nothing but an inch of space left between you—“it was really nothing and we made a promise to each other the day we got married. For better or for worse,” he repeats those sacred vows. “I meant them and I live by them not only because you’re my best friend, but because I am in love with you and I couldn’t abandon you when you needed me most.”

You move in, leaving no gap left to be able to grab his hand and be physically connected. “But that’s it, you didn’t abandon me, and for that I will always be grateful. So thank you…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

He shakes his head and brings his other hand up to cradle your cheek with his warm palm. “And you don’t have to. Ever so don’t look at it that way because you’d never want me to see it that way. Right?”

“No.” You shake your head right away, making him flash you a smile before he lets your hand fall to hold your face with both hands and keep your eyes on his so as not to stray even an inch.

“Tell me, what do you feel now?” He asks.

You cup his hands and sigh. “Like I’m here…my heart was beating and my lungs were drawing in air before, but I was never here. My body was only an empty shell. But now…now I’m here and it hurts so much worse, but,” your voice trembles. “I want to try and…make it hurt less. I want to keep talking to Gail.”

Apollo sighs with relief and then caresses your cheeks. “I’m glad to hear it,” he says. “Really. I’m proud of you.”

You draw in a shaky breath before you drop your head on his shoulder, letting him press a gentle kiss on top of your head before he wraps his arms around you once again.

“I’m here,” he whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper back and let a silence linger before you break it with a desire. “I want to go pay my respects. I want to see my dad's grave.”

“Of course. We can go whenever you want.”

“Now,” you blurt and pull away to find his gaze. “Please.”

Once again, Apollo is too kind, he gives in. “Okay. Let me just let our friends know. They want to accompany you, if that’s okay?”

You nod. “Yes, of course. I’ll get Teddy ready and we can go.”

He hums, and without delay, you do as you agreed upon. You wait for Teddy to wake up first, and then after he’s ready, you gather your friends, ride out of town, and find yourselves in Jackson’s cemetery occupied by all of the loved ones everyone’s lost.

You have never had to come until now, but you find no trouble in finding your father. You wish you had struggled to find his grave to have time to process the fact that he’s buried here and that you’ll never get to see him again, but you find his name amongst the row of other dead and instead linger behind to take time to process the fact that he won’t be waiting for you, or meeting up with you. You have to walk to his tomb placed where he’ll be forever. Even when you’re nothing but bones as well.

No one rushes you, though. They let you take your time and wait with you until you’re finally able to approach the tomb.

“Hi Daddy,” you greet, and for the first time in thirty years, you cast a shadow over him. “I know…it’s been a while. I know I wasn’t here when they buried you, but…I’m here,” you cry and crouch down, reading the words carved on the wooden tomb.

‘Joel Miller’

‘09-26-1967 - 01-01-2029’

‘Beloved Brother and Father’

“I’m sorry,” you blurt after you read the carved letters. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I,” you stammer. “I did try. I’m sorry.”

Footsteps close in on you before a shadow casts over your figure, swallowing your shadow before you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as they crouch down by your side, revealing themselves to be Apollo and Theo in his arms.

Apollo doesn’t proceed to say anything; he just stays by your side with his hand on your shoulder, stopping you from saying everything else you had to say, everything that was already written out in your mind after months of thinking about it, and leaving you with that weight on your chest.

“Teddy, why don’t you put the flowers down for your grandpa,” Apollo tells Theo, who’s already come to visit your dad with your Uncle Tommy and Maria.

“Just there,” Apollo instructs your son before letting him go, making you hand him a bunch of yellow Rue flowers that Teddy places down without a struggle.

“Good job, Teddy,” Apollo praises him, making the boy turn to smile with glee, and causing you to clap for him and his great achievement.

“Good job, baby,” you follow up by saying as you wipe the tears off your cheeks and offer him a sweet smile, making the boy get the idea to walk over to you to hook his arms around your neck and cling onto you instead of his dad.

“You did good,” you whisper to him and cradle the back of his head, remembering at that moment the first time your dad saw Theo and held him.

He was so happy that you thought his heart would give out with joy. He also struggled to hand Theo back, so you thought he’d leave with him.

Now…your son will grow up and not even remember him. He’ll know him by all the things you’ll tell him. Other than that, he’s too young to remember how much your dad absolutely loved him, all because…

You drop your head and hold Theo close as if seeking that embrace from your father in someone who’s a part of him. You know it will never be the same, but a part of your dad lives in your son.

“Why,” you pause and clear your throat of that ball of emotions caught in your throat. “Why don’t you say hi to Grandpa?”

Theo pulls away, but keeps one hand around you as he turns to face the tomb. “Ha,” he tries his best to say. “Ha!”

You giggle and kiss his cheek before you stand up with your son in arms, causing Apollo’s hand to slip off your shoulder before he slowly mirrors you and stays by your side.

“I will follow you,” Atlas breaks his silence as he sees you on your feet. “If you want to get justice for what those bastards did, I will follow you.”

“I will too,” Mia proclaims, abandoning her mother-like role in your friend group and showing a fierce and dangerous devotion. “I follow you too. It wasn’t right what they did.”

You keep your eyes on your dad's tomb and hear Mia’s husband chime in next.

“I know I joined your friend group because of Mia, but you’re special to me now too. All of you. And Joel was a good man. I will follow you too.” He pledges and all their words warm your heart. They make you happy, and they let you know that even if you’ve been a bad friend for the past three months, you can still rely on them like before.

Yet as touched as you feel, you know revenge is not what you want.

“Thank you,” you interject and pull your eyes off your dad's tomb. “Thank you, all of you, for your support. I appreciate it more than you know. I do.” You nod and then sigh deeply. “But,” you pause and look at each and every one of them. “That’s not who we are. I’m angry. Sad beyond measure, but I’m not going to gain anything going after the woman who…killed my dad. That’s not going to make my pain any less, and that’s not what I want Teddy to know either.” You express yourself with confidence because no matter what you feel, you know that’s not the path you want to take. That’s not who you are.

“Thank you, though. It really means a lot,” you add softly and look back at your dad's tomb, feeling that weight on your chest push down so heavily that you feel it pushing on your heart.

You don’t like the feeling, but you can’t find a way to get rid of it. Not even finishing what you were sharing before you got interrupted would have been the solution. They were just a manifestation of what you feel and have been feeling, so you don't know what the cure is.

It’s not revenge.

Is it time?

Or…

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“You don’t think she’ll be mad at me, huh, Teddy Bear?” You ask your son rhetorically, but he looks over at you and blinks as if processing what you asked.

Teddy ultimately doesn’t respond, so you don’t prolong the moment; you secure the bag of goodies around your shoulder and then knock on the door and wait.

Moments later, there’s a response from the other side of the hospital room.

“Come in.”

You open the door and slowly push it open, revealing to Ellie, the patient, that it’s you. After three long months, it’s finally you.

“Holy shit,” Ellie gasps as she sits up straighter and looks at you with her eyes wide. “I thought you were dead. Or completely forgot about me.”

You close the door behind you after you walk in and then respond to her absurd comments. Which are reasonable, but it’s still absurd.

“No,” you argue with your voice still a hint hoarse. “I just…”

“Lost your voice,” Ellie cuts you off more seriously now. “Yeah, I know.”

You set Teddy down and he doesn’t hesitate to roam, taking advantage that he’s not being held, whilst you approach Ellie with your lips drooped and your eyes dull out of guilt and shame.

“It’s not only that,” you share. “It’s…I…felt guilty,” you confess and rob Ellie of her smile and make her slowly frown. “You shouldn’t have walked in seeing that and me on the floor not being able to…uhm,” you pause and clear your throat to avoid crying more than you already have. “Well…stop her. I should’ve,” you pause again and put down your bag of goodies as you stop at the edge of her bed. “I should’ve stopped her even if it had gotten me hurt or killed.”

Ellie stares at you hard for a moment, with the wheels behind her eyes churning fast as different thoughts form.

“For that, I’m sorry,” you finish saying and drop your eyes to try and fight back the tears that well in your eyes, regardless of your attempts.

“I think Joel would have died with you if you died saving him,” Ellie says softly, pulling your eyes off the ground to look at her with sadness—“and,” she continues. “It was a tough situation, so don’t apologize. Besides, he wasn’t my dad. He was yours. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You take in her words and take a seat beside her to hold her hand.

Ellie looks down at your touch with surprise, expecting an estrangement now that your dad wasn’t alive to keep you talking to her, or expecting anything else but your touch.

“You loved him,” you argue with a small and wobbly smile. “And he loved you. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You lost him too.”

Ellie’s eyes flicker down to your interlaced hands before she meets your watery gaze and breathes out shakily as if dropping a mask that hurt her so much to carry. After that, for the first time, she moves in and surprises you with an embrace.

There’s no awkwardness. Just vulnerability that she lets you see, just like that time after David.

Yet it’s that same vulnerability that makes a different kind of guilt creep in. Yet, you don’t let it affect you at this moment. You hold her tightly, feeling a spark of bliss in your heart that only she was able to make you feel.

“You know…” you pause as you sniff her. “You smell like sweat.”

You pull back and study her face, catching a sheet of sweat glistening over her face, proving that what you smelt was right.

“I hope you haven’t been doing something you’re not supposed to,” you manage to tease her. “My best friend is the doctor of this clinic.”

Ellie scoffs and shakes her face with an obvious lying expression. “Nope, I’ve been sitting here…all day. Every day.”

You know she’s lying, but you’re not annoying about it. Instead, you pick up your bag of goodies and then place it over her legs.

“That’s for you,” you let her know with a happy little smile. “Before the outbreak, if you were in this situation, people would’ve brought balloons and stuffed animals, but this is now, and you get out in a week, so,” you breathe out and pat the bag. “I brought you a bag with foods you like and things to keep you entertained. This last week will be hell, so I think it’ll help make the days pass by faster.”

Ellie groans as she grabs the bag to rummage through it, causing Teddy to walk over with curiosity. “Wouldn’t your doctor let me go now? I feel so much better.” She says.

“Sorry.” You offer her a pitiful frown. “But that’s something I cannot make her do. Trust me. Unless you want her pestering you for a week.”

“No,” she grumbles. “They already check on me more than they should.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure no one is coming and then look at Ellie again as you pick Teddy off the ground and sit him on the bed. “I’m sorry about Dina,” you finally address the situation you’ve overheard Dina ramble about the times she’d visit. “I can maybe start giving her the cold shoulder,” you offer. “Albeit she did visit me and stay with me so…maybe I can keep it strictly professional.”

Ellie scoffs as she pulls out a brownie and breaks it in half to share with Teddy as he grows ever so curious. “Nah, I…learned not to be bothered by what she did. It’s Dina. I assumed she’d forget about it. It’s okay. However, I am sorry she visited you.” She says with a teasing look.

You shrug. “Well, I was out of it, but it was nice. We…share a memory that will always keep us connected, so I’m quite touched she went. It’s Jesse whom I haven’t seen. Has he come to visit you?”

Ellie nods with her mouth full, thus making crumbs fall out of her mouth just like Teddy. “Yeah,” she says with her mouth full. “Plenty of times.”

You hum and wonder again why he didn’t visit you. It’s not like you were impossible to reach, you never left your house.

But alas, you push it aside for now and face her with a faint smile. “After you’re out of the hospital, you are welcome to come stay at my place if going back home is difficult.”

Ellie swallows her snack and slowly lifts her gaze to find yours with nothing to say. She just sighs as her face grows serious and glum.

“Thank you,” she offers you, with no say if she’s going to accept your offer or not.

You don’t pester her about it as long as she knows that’s an option.

“Have you gone to his house?” She asks and looks at Teddy as he asks for more of her brownies.

“Uh,” you swallow thickly. “No. Not yet. I thought about going after this, but I-I don’t know. Maybe...”

She hums and grabs another brownie to share with Teddy.

From there on, you can’t think about anything else but stopping by at your dad's house. You argue with yourself between wanting to go and waiting for a different day.

Gail says it’s okay to take things slow. You’re talking again and no longer trapped in your trauma, so you shouldn’t want to do everything at once, but it’s been three months. That’s what you keep telling yourself until you decide not to go.

You’ll go on a different day, maybe when Ellie goes.

Alas, after the hospital, you find yourself in your dad's street, slowly walking up to his house, fully expecting to see him sitting on his porch enjoying the warm sun until you reach his house and see old and new flowers, drawings, and notes in front of his house in his stead.

The porch is abandoned and has a cold shadow covering the wooden chair where he liked to sit and where you found him for the last time, just at the start of the New Year.

Maybe if you walked to the front door and knocked he’d answer, you thought foolishly until you once again noticed the dozen of notes and bouquets left in memory of him, becoming a cruel reminder that no one would answer the door. No one would sit on that porch again to play the guitar in the sun, or try to fight his sleep as he tried to read.

Maybe if you went inside, you’d feel like a part of him was still there. All of his stuff has gone untouched after all, but when you approach the end of that driveway to prepare to walk to the front door, you come to a sudden stop.

No matter how much you wanted to move, your grief would not let you take a step forward because you knew he would not be there. You knew that you’d no longer have dinners at his house or have movie nights. You'll no longer come and find him and Teddy asleep on the couch, and you’ll no longer have someone to share a cup of coffee.

His house will be alone and a harsher reminder of what you won’t have anymore, so instead of going in, you hang around the fence to read everything everyone wrote and let Teddy see and touch all the things that call his attention.

There’s things that make you smile, but there are more things that make you cry as you read how much he impacted everyone who lived in Jackson.

It all brings you close to finding the strength to walk inside, but alas, you still can’t, so you linger where you are for a moment. When you get ready to leave, you hear someone walk over, so you stop and pretend you don’t hear.

That is until you hear Jesse say your name, causing you to turn and face him with Teddy in your arms.

“Jesse,” you greet with a hint of joy and the hint of a smile, but it’s a blink and you’ll miss it type of smile.

“Were you just coming out of your dad's house?” He asks as he glances over.

“No.” You shake your head and steal a glance at the house before you look at all the things and then at him. “I…couldn’t…you know? But it’s okay, Gail says it’s okay to take my time.”

Jesse nods in comprehension and gulps before he glances at the ground and doesn’t prolong the moment. “I saw you walking out of the clinic, and I thought I’d follow you to uh, tell you first, I’m sorry that I haven’t gone to visit you.”

You watch him and hang onto every word, but wonder why someone usually so confident is struggling to speak.

“And two…I’m sorry,” he says in a quieter voice than the one you’re used to hearing. “I should’ve gotten there sooner. Maybe that would’ve made a difference. Maybe he would still be here and you would have your dad, but I didn’t even catch the ones who did it. For that, I’m so deeply sorry,” he shares what’s kept him away with genuine guilt and shame.

“Oh, Jesse,” you whisper and close the gap between you to grab his shoulder so he can at last look you in the eyes—“you did nothing wrong. Nor do you have anything to be sorry about. Maybe if you had been there you would have gotten hurt too, or worse. What happened that day happened for a reason. So please know that I have never blamed you. I actually wondered where you’ve been.”

He scoffs. “Trying to think of the right thing to say,” he shares. “I just couldn’t bring myself to face you. We are patrol partners after all. Friends too. I just…felt ashamed I let my friend down.”

You smile softly and gently shake his shoulder. “Well, as your friend I want to tell you that there’s nothin’ to be ashamed about. Ok?”

Without making things hard, he nods in comprehension, so you offer him one last smile before you let him go and bring up a question. “You workin’?”

“I have some time until my next shift,” he says, so you nod and then share what you have in mind.

“Okay, cool, come over. I was just thinkin’ about gettin’ some lunch.”

——

*A WEEK LATER*

“You need to take that goat back to the barn,” your uncle tells you for the…third time. Not like you’ll listen or consider it. “It’s goin’ to get attached to ya…more than it already has.”

“What should I name it?” You ignore him as you look at the 1 week old baby goat who was ignored by his mama. “You know that some people believe goats are the devil,” your uncle tries to spook you so you'll leave the goat be, but you get a bright idea for a name.

“Ha, Lucifer!” You snap your fingers. “Isn’t that such a good name?” You tell the baby goat over your shoulder, as it doesn’t fall behind.

“Don't worry,” you now address your uncle as you glance at him trailing at your side. “It’s just until it’s weaned and just while I’m here working on the farm.”

Your uncle sighs since he knows better.

“It seems you're slowly getting your color back,” your Uncle points out as he smoothly changes the subject. “You feelin’ stronger?”

You nod softly. “Yeah. The sun doesn’t bother me anymore, and I’ve been trying to push myself when I’m doing my work.”

“Ok, but as long as you’re not straining yourself,” he warns. “Continue to take things slowly. You’re in no rush. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

You huff and flash him a smile, leaving a short silence as you approach the area you’re working at to fix the chicken coop.

Albeit when your eyes land on the area, there in the fenced area between the cows and the chickens are Dina and Ellie.

“Maybe you should give that same advice to someone else,” you whisper to your uncle as you both know that they’re up to something since Ellie is here just after she got out of the clinic after three months.

“If she asks what I’m guessing she’s going to ask, then I will,” he responds before you reach the area and acknowledge both girls.

“Hey Dina,” you greet as you open the fence door and walk in with the goat trailing behind you and your uncle trailing behind the goat.

“Hey…aw! Hello there, goat!” Dina says back with more enthusiasm for the goat than you.

“Ellie, I’m glad to see you’re out and about after just getting out of the clinic,” you direct at her, causing her to offer you a feigned smile.

“They said I should get fresh air,” she quips, making you feign a laugh.

“Girls,” your Uncle greets them. “What brings you out here on your day off? And on your first day out of the clinic, Ellie. Weren’t we all gatherin’ at Sunny’s house later to welcome you?”

She nods faintly. “Yeah,” she brushes him off. “But later I won’t get the chance to share what I just learned, so thankfully you’re both here so I can save some breath.”

You and your uncle share nervous looks before Ellie spills what brought her to the farm while you and your Uncle are working. And it’s nothing good.

It seems Dina finally told her about the girl and her friends who killed your dad, and now Ellie is requesting what you were afraid she’d want. Revenge.

That’s why you haven’t told her about what you know and why you told her you forgot, blaming everything on the trauma of the day. Yet it seems Dina doesn’t have the same precaution in mind. She doesn’t seem to know Ellie like you know Ellie, or else she would’ve never told her.

Alas…Ellie knows, and now she’s here telling your uncle and you to go with her to Seattle, so maybe Ellie doesn’t know you.

Yet you don’t turn her down right away and tell her that. Nor does your uncle turn her down either. Whereas Ellie makes your uncle genuinely ponder, you walk away to grab more wire and pretend to be thinking about the plan when, in reality, you just need time to breathe and gather your thoughts as memories of that day threaten to flood your mind.

You think about Abby, Owen, Mel, Nora, and Manny too. You see their faces every day, but you don’t see red like Ellie. You see betrayal, guilt, a deep aching pain, and a great sadness that threatens to take you down by adding to that unbearable weight that gets closer and closer to crushing your heart.

You hurt differently than it hurts Ellie, and that’s the only reason why you return to where they are to listen, but not even consider it.

“Well?” Ellie questions you and your uncle after you come back, making you put the wire down and take a seat next to your uncle before you bend down to pick the goat off the ground and cradle it in your arms.

“I gotta think about this,” your uncle breaks the silence, saying what you were going to lie about, so you end up being quiet and let Ellie retort.

“Think about what? Let’s fucking get these guys.”

Your Uncle glances over at you as you keep your eyes on the goat, as you try your hardest to fight your emotions.

“Ellie,” your Uncle argues and looks away. “It ain’t that simple. The town is still recovering. So are you.”

“Uh, we get where you’re coming from—” Dina interjects, but gets caught off by Ellie countering with annoyance.

“No, we don’t get where you’re coming from, I don’t get where you’re coming from.”

You clench your jaw and start to caress the baby goat while also slowly starting to rub your thigh.

“If it had been you, or her,” Ellie refers to you too. “Joel would be halfway to Seattle before the sun came up.” She argues, but she argues wrong. She argues completely wrong in your dad's defense. He might’ve been an angry man. He might’ve had a reputation, but he…wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t take a path toward revenge. He only got defensive.

“He’d be halfway to Seattle to save our lives,” your Uncle counters correctly. “But when we lost people, no. It would just break him like it was his fault. I saw that time and time again. And don’t talk to me like I didn’t know him. He was my brother.”

There’s a silence where you finally pick your head up to look over at Ellie, catching her sigh and averting her gaze, which in turn makes your uncle continue more gentler and understanding.

“Listen, I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t do this. But if we’re gonna put a posse together, we gotta do it right, which means taking it to Maria.”

Ellie’s jaw drops as she’s about to argue against your Uncle, but your Uncle beats her to talking, knowing what she had to say. “Yes, it’s fuckin’ necessary…”

You scoff softly and smirk in amusement.

“She’s gonna want a council meeting,” your Uncle continues. “Open it up to the town. Everyone who wants to get heard gets heard.”

“But you two will back us, right?” Ellie asks, and you catch the hope in her eyes.

Yet even that doesn’t change your mind. Albeit, you still lie and nod so she doesn’t argue with you.

“Of course, I will,” your Uncle gives his genuine response, releasing some tension off Ellie.

“Come here,” your Uncle says as he gets up to wrap her in an embrace that she seems to be tense in for a few seconds before you see her ease.

“And you,” your uncle directs at Dina, keeping to herself in the distance. “You hold out information on me again, you got rendering detail for a month.” He warns her as he and Ellie let go, making Dina scrunch her nose.

“Alright,” your Uncle puts an end to the matter, making Ellie and Dina walk away with the attempt to leave, albeit your Uncle stops Ellie before she can walk past the gate.

“Ellie. We buried our dead ten miles south of town. If you want to visit him.”

You let the goat go and continue doing your job.

“When we're on our way to Seattle,” she says and then leaves after Dina, leaving your Uncle with much to think about.

“You’re actually considering it?” You ask after you made sure Ellie wasn’t near anymore.

Your Uncle pushes himself off the fence and then answers. “‘Course. I’m not thrilled that she wants to pursue revenge, but if she wants to ask the council for permission, I’ll give it to her…will you?”

“I don’t have a say,” you deadpan, making your uncle sigh.

“No, but Apollo does, and what you say goes,” he says what you know and what you were pretending to be dumb about—“Will you tell him to accept?”

You don’t stop working, you keep going and give him a simple answer. “You want the truth? No. It’s not good for her to go down this path. It will get her hurt or worse.”

“Yes,” your uncle quickly argues as he approaches you now. “But if we deny her, she'll find a way to do it behind our backs. It doesn’t end well when you try to forbid the young ones from doin’ something. You were the same, and Teddy and any other kids you might have will be the same.”

You finally stop what you’re doing and look back at him. “I heard her out,” you quip. “I was about to walk away, but I heard her out. I will continue to hear her out when she speaks to the council, but my answer won’t change. She won’t like it, but it’s something I’m more than glad to risk…and it’s because I love her. Now, can we talk about something else and finish this?”

Without any more arguments, your uncle keeps his thoughts to himself to respect your choice.

Later that day, when everyone gathers in your house for the get-together you threw for Ellie, she asks Apollo the same thing she asked you, and he gives her hope since you hadn’t discussed it with him, but your Uncle is right, what you say goes. Your voice is heard one way or another through your husband, and he makes sure to ask for your opinion the next day when you’re lying in bed before you have to start the day.

“I want you to vote no,” you don’t hesitate to share without a doubt. “Whatever she might say, vote no.”

Apollo takes in your words and debates them himself only because Ellie is trusting him with this important decision that may or may not depend on him, and saying no feels like hurting her in some way.

“What if she gets the votes regardless,” Apollo brings up, so you drag yourself back, causing his leg to slip off yours, and feeling a hint of coldness as you pull your head away from his chest to face him with your gaze pointed.

“Then she gets them, but at least I’ll know I tried to put my foot down,” you rebuttal and look into his eyes, catching his doubt, so you sigh deeply and argue in your defense.

“What will getting revenge do?” You ask him. “It's not going to heal her grief. It’s not going to bring him back either. She’s just going to get hurt or worse. I get that she’s angry, I am too, but that’s why we handle it. We don’t chase people across the country for something that can’t be undone.”

Apollo sighs deeply and nods stiffly. “I understand,” he mutters. “She’s just putting her trust in me, you know?”

You swallow thickly and nod. “Yeah, I know. She’s putting her trust in me, too, but we’re the ones looking after her now, Apollo. We have to watch over her and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed. She deserves a good and long life. She won’t get that if she leaves.”

Apollo’s eyes linger on you, letting you see his resolve over the matter, but making you feel bad that he also has to go against her.

“Thank you,” you whisper and cup his cheek before you stroke your hand back to cradle the side of his head, making him smile a loving smile as he strokes your chin and then grabs the back of your head, letting you take that as a sign to nuzzle against him again.

“Will you go today?” He asks with worry. “You don’t have to, I’ll vote no.”

“Mia and Atlas are going to sit with me,” you let him know. “And either way, I’m there to support Ellie. I’ll hear what she has to say.”

He hums, and you go quiet to enjoy the little time you have left in silence before you have to get up. After that, you start your day, and the council meeting approaches soon thereafter, meaning you don’t have to handle your nerves all day. Thankfully.

Yet the same topic Ellie brought up the day before with your Uncle Tommy is brought up again, and you get uncomfortable as violent memories threaten to overwhelm you. You almost get up to leave, but you muster the strength to fight them off because your friends are with you to remind you that you’re not in that lodge, and your dad is no longer suffering.

You’re okay, and he’s…dead…

“Which is why I keep saying we need to invest more in turkeys and less in chickens,” Scott, a Jackson Hole resident and speaker for today's council meeting gets off topic, which you kind of enjoy so the matter can be delayed and your decision along with it—“and that brings me back to my earlier point about corn. Corn, some of you have heard me say, is not the easiest crop to grow, but it’s among the fastest. You can plot a graph that shows ease and resources versus time to harvest and get a li—”

“Scott,” your Uncle cuts his rambling off. “I’m sorry, but we gotta keep you on target here.”

“But it’s an open meeting. The bylaws say that—”

“Maybe we should stick to what everyone else came here to discuss,” Maria interjects now.

“I don’t really have an opinion on the Seattle thing,” Scott inputs now, ending the matter once and for all.

“Okay. Thank you,” Maria says and moves down the list of speakers. “So, that was Scott. Next is Rachel.”

You shift in your seat and keep focused, but as murmuring goes around the room and a baby goes fussy, you can’t catch a word that’s said. If it even was said.

“Can’t hear you!” Someone shouts for the entire crowd, making people go quiet and causing some shifting to happen before you finally hear Rachel’s voice.

“I said that Joel meant so much to so many of us. But he wasn’t the only one.”

You blink repeatedly and drop your eyes to your hands clasped on your lap.

“I-I lost my sister that day,” Rachel continues to say. “A lot of people in here buried family. And now, you wanna send, what are you saying, 16 of our best? Well, while they’re gone, who’s gonna be on the wall if Raiders come? A wall that’s barely mended. And none of you up there can promise us that all 16 will come back. So my heart is with you,” she says and says your name along with Tommy and Ellie’s before she finishes sharing her opinion.

“We are too hurt, and it is too soon.”

You sigh and lift your head to look at Jesse, Apollo, your Uncle, and Maria, all up on that platform as Maria brings an end to Rachel’s time.

“Thank you, Rachel. Next is Carlisle,” she moves on, making the old man stand from his seat to address the crowd.

“I’ll be quick,” he clears his throat. “‘Cause this one’s simple to me. People came and killed Joel. So, why wouldn’t we wanna take our vengeance?”

You clench your jaw and sigh deeply with distress caused by the worry that he’s going to encourage the request.

“Well, because we’re not supposed to.”

You peer over your shoulder and look at the man as he’s caught you by surprise.

“Forgive and be forgiven. No grudges. No revenge. And I’m not even a Christian. I’ve always seen the wisdom in that. That’s what separates us from the Raiders, and the murderers. Our capacity for mercy.”

You take in his words with relief, hoping that his honest and wise words will sway the council to vote no.

Yet your relief is then turned to anxiety when Seth, of all people, cuts in.

“Those sons of bitches don’t deserve our mercy.”

You clench your hands into fists and gain Apollo’s surprised and worried gaze from his place on that platform, so you end up holding in what threatens to break you and express the same surprise, but also share your anxiety on the matter.

“Well, of course they don’t deserve it,” Carlisle argues in between all of the crowds murmuring. “That’s what makes it mercy.”

“Well, to hell with that,” Seth exclaims as he gets up. “And to hell with you for saying it, Carlisle.”

“Seth, sit down,” Maria tries to bring an end to the interruption, but Seth becomes a pain in the ass and holds his ground.

“No.”

“You’re not on the list.”

“No!” He screams louder, causing you to drop your head and exhale deeply.

“What the hell are we all talking about here?” Seth continues. “Boo-hoo, it’s not fair. What, we gotta forgive everybody when they show up and piss in our eye? They came into our house. They took one of ours. My God, somebody shoots your brother, you wanna take the locks off your doors? Grow up!”

You begin to nervously rub your thigh, to the point that Atlas notices and tries his best to try and reassure you by putting his hand over yours.

When you feel his touch you look at him and offer him a faint thankful smile before you wrap your hand around his to keep clinging onto that support as Seth goes on.

“You idiots, they’ll come back. They’ll come back because we didn’t make ‘em pay. And when they come back, they’ll be laughing. And you’ll all deserve it. Bunch of goddamn victims.”

The old man sits down, bringing down an awkward silence that you almost want to leave, but you hold on and listen to the last speaker, Ellie.

After Maria finally gives her the floor, she makes the room go silent for a minute before she gets up and pulls out a paper that she reads off of. Surprisingly enough.

“I normally don’t write things down,” Ellie starts off by saying. “Because I normally don’t think before I talk, which has gotten me in trouble before, a lot.”

Oh? She’s rhyming?

“And it’s cost me in ways that sometimes couldn’t be undone. But I can’t afford that right now because I know what I’m asking is a lot. I’m asking us to risk more people and resources, and at the worst possible time. And I want everyone to know, it’s not because I want revenge.”

Oh?

“It’s not,” Ellie tries to make her lie clear, but she’s not fooling you—“what I want is what you used to give people. I want justice. Because it’s either that, or we do nothing. That’s what everyone else out there is going to do for us. Nothing,” she says with more passion. “A whole world of people who won’t lift a finger if something bad happens to me or you. We have a word for these people. They’re called strangers.”

Atlas snorts quietly over Ellie’s words, so you let his hand go and slowly glare at him, making him go serious right away.

“Well, I don’t think that we’re strangers to each other,” you hear Ellie continue. “And I want to know that I can count on you. And I swear, if someone hurts any of you or the people you love, you can count on me...”

You take this time to smile in amusement at Ellie’s complete bullshit attempt to sway the council's vote.

“…that's what holds all this together. Not potluck dinners or New Year’s Eve dances. Definitely not a wall, because that thing got busted through. But Jackson is still here. I’ll accept whatever the council decides. But I’m asking you, please…do what it takes to see that justice is done. Not for me. Not even for Joel. I am asking you, please do it for us,” she finishes her letter in an emotional ending that she even adds tears to. Whether the tears are genuine or not you don’t know, they probably are but that won't change the fact that it’s all still bullshit.

“Thank you,” Maria tells her, bringing an end to the discussion to finally move on to the voting—“The council will now vote on the proposal to send a party of 16 citizens to Seattle to find the people who killed Joel and execute them.”

As the voting begins, Apollo steals a glance at you, and you steal a glance at him and trust he’ll do what you asked, but it’s the others that make you nervous and make you sit at the edge of your seat as if that would help. It only makes you more anxious.

Either way, like watching a clock, the process seems to move more slowly than anticipated. A couple of minutes drag on, and you almost can’t take it, but alas, all the votes are given to Amy-Beth, the one person who will share the votes with the crowd without fear that she’ll lie.

“Amy-Beth?” Maria encourages, and so said girl starts.

“Yes.”

You swallow thickly and sit up straighter.

“No. Yes. No. No. Yes. No, no. No. No. No.”

You let out a shaky, relieved breath and sit back without that fear clinging onto you a moment longer.

“The vote is 8 to 3,” Amy-Beth clarifies. “The proposal is rejected.”

Murmurs spread around the room, but no one interjects this time because the word is officially given now. There’s no do-overs, just disappointment from only a handful of people. The only one you care about, you don’t look at though. Not yet.

“Adjourned,” Maria releases the meeting, making people not linger back. Everyone but the council and you get up, causing a cluster of people as they all want to leave at the same time. That’s why you finally drift your gaze to Ellie, so your gaze won't be detected as she's leaving.

Alas, when you look at the other side of the room where she had been sitting at, you actually end up catching Ellie’s gaze.

You try not to read too much into it. You don’t want to catch the betrayal she feels because, instead of getting at least 4 definite votes in support of her, she only got three, and it was obvious to guess that you lied and voted against her. You haven’t been able to look at her all day. All you greeted her with was a quick good morning, and you sat at the other side of the room with your best friends at your sides.

You lied and made Apollo vote against Ellie’s request. Against the one thing she desperately wanted. The one significant matter that required your support more than anything, and the one matter that she trusted you to have her back on, but you lied and turned your back on her and that hurt and betrayal is plain to see because of the dark shadow that cast over her face as if intentional so you won't miss a thing.

Alas, as ashamed as you feel. You feel no regrets. You’re determined to stand your ground, and that’s obvious to Ellie as the sun keeps basking your face as if…intentional.

——

*LATER*

After the council meeting, you had purposely stayed behind, welcoming people’s pity and sweet consolations to avoid facing Ellie’s disappointment and anger, but you can’t hide forever, and when you return home, sitting on your porch steps is Ellie waiting for you.

She makes herself easy to see and makes sure you know that she’s not here for pleasantries. She knows you know why she’s here, so you hand Teddy to Apollo and usher them inside.

Once the front door is closed, leaving the porch just to you and Ellie, she is quick to get to the point. “Why did you do it?”

You draw in a deep breath and turn away from the door to face her and exhale deeply before you respond. Or at least you try to, because just as you part your lips, she cuts in abruptly.

“You said you would support me, and you had Apollo vote no, why?” She asks as you see her teeter over an edge where her balance all depends on what you’re going to say.

“Because I don’t want you to go down that path,” you say, and manage to keep her from falling into a pit of anger. “I know it was messed up to lie, but it’s not like you would change your mind if I said no that day you asked.”

“No,” she interjects before you keep going.

“Exactly—”

“But you still lied,” she cuts you off with a narrowed glare. “You said I would get your vote to go get justice for Joel, and instead you want me to, what? Sit idly by?”

You shake your head. “No. I want you to grieve the right way, Ellie. I need you to open yourself up to letting yourself grieve.”

Ellie scoffs and shakes her head before she snaps, causing her grip to loosen. “So what? So I can turn to you and be depressed and pathetic for three months?!”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and feel her words stab your heart.

“Do you not get what I’m trying to do?” Ellie continues to argue, raising her voice with the anger that seeps through. “I’m trying to get justice! You were there! You saw them! We have to make them pay!” She exclaims almost desperately.

“I was there,” you interject this time before she keeps ranting. “I know! I live through that day of my life every day and every night. I see their faces and see him die over and over again. I,” you pause and sigh to collect yourself and try to explain your reasoning behind your protest.

“I miss him too,” you say instead. “But what you want to do won’t get him back. Nothing you do will get him back, so why risk your life? Why risk anyone else’s life over it? Revenge won’t make you feel better, Ellie.”

Said girl holds your gaze with annoyance before she shakes her head and retorts. “That’s a whole bunch of bullshit and you’re a liar. If you really loved Joel, you would have voted yes,” she doesn’t hesitate from saying, making you gasp softly and feel your eyes immediately well with tears as you feel a sharp heartache.

Yet you don’t dare and use such harsh words like she did. You keep your head up and watch her give you her back.

“I’m going to do this with or without you. I don’t care,” she grumbles and walks off the porch, expecting no response, but before she can leave, you blurt.

“What about all the risks my dad took for you to be here? Will you just make that go to waste? Because if you go, there’s no chance you’re coming back. You will get hurt, or worse, so what will make those sacrifices he took to save you?”

Ellie stops in her tracks and keeps her back turned to you for a tense silence that seemed to drag on for hours, when it's only been a few seconds where you unknowingly lose her in that pit of anger.

“You know,” she mutters before she slowly turns to face you with her face contorted with rage and her eyes oozing with that terrible and blinding feeling.

“You know why he made those sacrifices,” she continues sneering as she strides back to you. However, you don’t let her make it all the way to the porch because you meet her halfway.

“Why did those people kill him?” She suddenly asks something she’s never hinted at wanting to know. She asks for the first time, letting you see a flicker of sadness in her eyes this time.

“The truth,” she blurts as her eyes well with tears, and you gulp and falter.

“They were…after revenge,” you put it simply because you’re sure there’s no shortage of people your dad pissed off. “Just like you’re after revenge, that’s why—”

“Oh shut up,” she hisses and steps forward while she keeps holding your eyes with her watery gaze and pinched eyebrows. “They were from Salt Lake…right?” She asks as she begins to slowly uncover the truth you never got to share, and the truth that threatens to unveil something else you kept a secret

“Right?!” Ellie snaps, making you blink and lower your gaze to nod stiffly and hope she doesn’t probe about the other matter.

“They killed him because of what he did, right?” She asks, getting closer to that secret.

“Right,” you answer, and look at her so she doesn’t catch anything suspicious.

Nevertheless, your attempts are futile.

“And you knew what he did?” She probes as she narrows her gaze to a glowering glare. “You knew and you lied, right? That’s why you were never mad at him, and you…” she scoffs and holds her chest. “And you told me you didn’t know. You let me believe that I could trust you. Right?!” She exclaims, causing you to let out a shaky breath and nod.

“Right,” you whisper shakily before you step toward her and grab her hands to try and make her understand. “But I need you to understand that I did it for you. I was too late to stop him, I wanted to, I really did, but I was too late, so why would I mortify you even more by telling you the truth? So I kept it from you so you could have a good life. Ellie…you deserve a good life. Please—”

“You were too late,” she repeats and nods stiffly before she huffs and spats hurtful words. “It seems you’re always too late. Always too weak. That’s why Henry is dead,” she hisses quietly, making you slowly let her hands go as you're hit with disbelief.

“And that’s why Joel is dead,” she hurts you with those last words, feeling as if the knife in your heart got twisted for something you already blame yourself for. All because you tried to stop her from walking away, and all because you brought up your dad's sacrifices to have her be here.

You unknowingly opened a can of worms, and now you’re the one hurt because of it.

“I won’t sit by like you,” she spats and points her finger at you as tears finally break out of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “I will make them pay, and I will hate you,” she sneers. “I will hate you for the rest of my life.”

She turns around swiftly and storms away, leaving you more hurt by those words than what she said before, because it feels like another great loss.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Seattle anyone?

Tagged- @slut-f0r-u @star-wars-lover @maplecohen @givemylovetoall @itzagothamcitysiren @sammy-13 @beloved-reblogger @emiriia @rues-daya @sunfairyy @littleshadow17 @mcu-starwars @bigtuffswordboy @riaqiax @dheet @queenofthekill @joliettes @d4rno @hardbeingcasual @rana030 @pedropascalluvr41 @ahoyyharrington @beaniebeensbaby201 @maeneedsabreak @maelartasch @adristyles @daughterofthequeen @alastorhazbin @sunsumonner @khaylin27 @hypatia93 @hummusxx @v4mpyk1tten @1donoow @your-shifting-gurl @g4ns3y @izzzzy-the-amazing @aphr0d1teh @lovelyygirl8 @ivy-taylorsversion @mmkkzz @avitute @fuckmebobboys @kitdjarin1

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What Burns Beneath (11)

Pairing: Azriel x Vanserra!OC

Series masterlist // ao3 // previous chapter

Chapter 11: Adara

tw: brief mentions of Jesminda being tortured and killed, and references to Adara being burned as a punishment

Adara didn’t realise her fingers had gone numb until she felt Lucien shift beneath her. His arms were still wrapped tight around her back, and she was just clutching at the lapels of his jacket like a lifeline.

She exhaled, forcing her grip to loosen.

Neither of them moved to let go completely, but eventually, Lucien eased his grasp and pulled back enough to look at her face.

“Gods,” he said, voice raw. “Look at you.”

He was smiling, but there were tear tracks smeared down his cheeks.

They moved to the couches and she curled into one corner, Lucien settling in the seat across from her, elbows on his knees, still staring at her like she might vanish if he blinked too long.

She didn’t know who was more shocked. Him, for seeing a sister he’d believed dead for centuries. Or her, for actually being seen again by the one person who had always loved her freely. Loudly.

She hadn’t seen him, not properly, since she was thirteen and he was eighteen. Since their brothers had dragged Jesminda to the Forest House courtyard and made an example of her. Since she’d watched Lucien’s heart break as Jesminda screamed, fire and madness burning through Berons’ eyes as he hurt her. Killed her.

Adara had screamed, too. For them to stop. For Lucien to run.

He had.

Their brothers had hunted him all the way to the Spring Court. Jasper had come back with a dozen broken bones and several deep gashes for his trouble. Cormac and Griffin, the two who had held Lucien between them as Jesminda was tortured, never returned. But he had escaped.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered.

Lucien’s throat worked, but he said nothing. He didn’t seem able to form words.

Absurdly, all she could think about was the way he used to sneak her out of Autumn when they were children. He used to make up ridiculous lies about her being a nobody nobleman’s daughter, and take her to see friends in Day, in Summer… once even to Winter, she recalled faintly.

The male sitting before her now was so different from that laughing boy. A brutal scar now stretched all the way from his brow to his jaw on the left side of his face, and one of his beautiful, russet-colored eyes had been replaced by a golden mechanical one. But he was still sharp, elegant, and ethereally handsome. Still smiled with that same easy charisma.

“I left you,” he said abruptly, wiping a hand down his face.

Her eyes snapped to his.

His jaw was clenched, eyes shining. “I left. I knew Beron would take it out on you. I knew you’d pay the price.”

“Lucien—”

“I didn’t even come back for you,” he pressed, louder. “I should have—”

“You believed I was dead,” she interrupted, softly.

“I did. And it nearly broke me.” He sat back, raking a hand through his copper hair. “But I found out, eventually. I was in a meeting on behalf of Spring and Eris slipped up. He said something about your ‘retraining’ and I nearly lost it right there in front of him.”

She blinked. Eris, of course.

“He wanted you to know,” she said quietly.

Lucien’s head jerked toward her.

“He doesn’t slip, not unless he means to,” she added. “He was telling you that I was alive.”

Lucien didn’t speak. Just stared. And then, almost cautiously, he asked, “Is it true he made you his servant?”

She winced. “That’s the official story.”

“You’ve been working for him this whole time?” The revulsion in Lucien’s voice was biting. “Cauldron, Addie, why didn’t you run?”

She leaned forward, ignoring the way her heart cracked at the childhood nickname. “Because he saved me.”

Lucien blinked.

“The circumstances don’t matter,” she said vaguely, “but I pissed Beron off and he was going to kill me. Eris intervened. He assumed responsibility for me.”

Lucien opened his mouth, but she kept going. “He trained me. Protected me. Let me learn, and move, and eventually gave me a real purpose. I do work for him, but he didn’t force it on me, Luce, I swear. I chose to work with him. I still choose it.”

Lucien’s face twisted. Pain, disbelief, reluctant understanding. “I always thought he was a bastard.”

“He is,” she said with a breath of laughter. “But not to me. And you should know, too, that he had nothing to do with Jesminda.”

He flinched, but she ploughed on. “He was the one who warned Tamlin and asked him to come to your aid.”

The silence between them pulsed like a heartbeat as Lucien processed her words.

Then he said, “I missed you too.”

Her throat tightened. “I never stopped keeping track of you.”

He looked down at his hands.

“I glimpsed you once,” she added, her voice almost a whisper. “Decades ago. On the border of Summer. You were laughing with some emissary. You looked happy. And I… I wanted you to stay that way. I didn’t want you to regret your new life.”

Lucien looked up. His eyes shone.

“I wouldn’t have regretted coming back for you, Addie.”

She smiled, but it was thin and trembling. “I know that now.”

Then she rose and crossed to sit beside him, curling under his arm like she had when they were young.

*****

In the days that followed, Adara found herself turning that reunion over and over in her mind. The way Lucien had looked at her like a ghost made flesh, the way he’d held her like if he let go, she’d vanish.

It didn’t matter that they now lived in separate courts, that he was anchored in Spring while she slipped between Autumn and Night like smoke through cracks. They made time. Somehow, they always found a sliver of borderland to meet. A clearing in the hills where Spring’s gentle wilds met Autumn’s crisp, dark trees. Neutral ground. Familiar and foreign all at once.

Their reunions were often awkward. The years stretched long and heavy between them, centuries of silence and pain, of diverging paths that neither quite knew how to navigate now. Sometimes, they said too little. Other times, too much. But then something would crack — a joke, a half-remembered story, a shared look — and it would lift. And for a few moments, they would be just Addie and Luce again. Just siblings. Just them.

He had changed. 

She’d known it already, from a distance. But sitting beside him, hearing the measured cadence of his words, the clever snark in his voice… seeing the wariness etched into his smile, and the kindness layered beneath it. It made her chest ache.

Lucien had grown into himself. He was clever and sharp, full of sly wit and charming sarcasm. Loyal to a fault. Still a little too quick to self-deprecate, and guarded beneath his golden skin and half-smirks, but he had become a good male. A better one than anyone but her had ever expected him to be.

And he, in turn, seemed taken aback by her.

He watched her like he was trying to reconcile the confident, sharp-tongued female she had become with the wild, stubborn girl she used to be. The one who had cried when she scraped her knees and demanded to go everywhere with him, even when she was still too small to hold a blade. She caught him staring sometimes, like he wasn’t quite sure how she’d become this.

But to his credit, he never made her feel self-conscious or ashamed. He smiled at her with the same ready acceptance as he had back then.

They didn’t talk about Eris. She could sense he wasn’t ready to tackle the topic of their eldest brother just yet. Wasn’t ready to confront that he had been wrong about him, too.

And so she let it be. For now, it was enough that they had this. That after the death, the distance and the silence, they had found their way back to each other.

Meanwhile, her days in the Night Court had taken on a quiet rhythm. After her mornings in the dark hallways of the Forest House, Adara spent her afternoons poring over intelligence reports with a moody Azriel.

It had become a habit to show up in his office at the House of Wind and declare, with the authority of someone entirely unconcerned by rank or title, “We’re working in the Town House today.”

He always scowled. Always protested. But he still came. Still flew them both down.

She had perfected the art of winnowing herself just beyond the wards of the House of Wind and free-falling to the balcony below, absorbing her momentum by rolling to a crouch. But still, she preferred the warmth of the Town House study and the golden spill of sunlight through the windows. Even more than that, she loved the sounds of the city filtering in from beyond. The quiet hum of conversation on the street outside, children laughing, vendors flogging their wares.

And she’d come to enjoy the revolving door of visitors that swept in and out like a changing tide: Mor, all sharp heels and sharper wit, in between visits to Vallahan and Monteserre. Cassian, dropping scandalous remarks as he tried to convince her to train with him. Feyre, patient and kind, sometimes lingering just long enough to coax a smile from Azriel before returning to her studio.

And then there was Elain.

She came more often than anyone.

Usually with something sweet in hand. Little parcels of lemon cakes or cinnamon bread, and a shy smile that seemed brighter than the pastries she carried. Adara noticed the way Azriel’s shoulders loosened whenever Elain entered the room. The way he seemed to force his tone lighter, softer. How his posture shifted, his towering frame subtly angling downward, trying to seem smaller and less intimidating.

His shadows always withdrew when Elain was near, curling back into the corners and tucking themselves behind furniture. Occasionally, one or two slithered toward Adara instead, brushing against her ankle or curling over the armrest beside her.

She never minded. Not when it was so clear that Azriel did.

He was careful, always. He never touched Elain, never stood too close, never let anything linger in the air between them. But his eyes gave him away. That careful watchfulness. That saccharine tenderness.

Adara knew what it looked like, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it.

Didn’t let herself think too long on the fact that the same male who rarely spoke above a gravelled murmur had smiled — smiled — when Elain asked him to open a jar for her, and turned the entire moment into a soft, bumbling joke that made them both laugh.

Or how Elain had blushed, pretty and sweet, and tucked her hair behind her ear before thanking him.

Or how Adara had pretended to be very focused on the report in front of her while a strange, tight pressure built behind her ribs.

She didn’t say anything, just kept watching the shadows trail back to her feet.

*****

As usual, she arrived at Azriel’s office just after lunch. The sky was a dark grey, the windows level with the clouds that rolled over the city below, casting a gloomy pallor across the desk where he sat, already immersed in reports.

Her usual demand to fly down to the cosy Town House sat on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped short when she saw the way Azriels’ gaze had caught on her throat.

Fuck. She’d forgotten to glamor it.

She reached for her magic quickly, cloaking the raw, angry burn that ringed her neck in a smooth illusion. She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know it had already turned an ugly red, the consequence of insulting her brother Aster that morning when he’d made a snide remark.

His grip had been brief, but punishing. And she’d meant to hide it before leaving, but Azriel’s eyes were still locked on the spot, even though it was now glamored to look like nothing.

She straightened her spine. “You’re staring.”

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

She exhaled sharply through her nose, stalking forward to drop into the armchair opposite. “I can handle my brothers.”

Azriel leaned forward, elbows on the desk between them. “You don’t have to go back there. To them.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“The Night Court would protect you. Rhys would give you sanctuary in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t need protection—”

“If Eris is the one doing this—”

Her chair scraped sharply as she stood. “He’s not.”

Azriel stood too, his own movement slower. He ran a hand through his hair and muttered something under his breath. “What about your other burns?” he asked suddenly.

She froze. They didn't talk about that. About the scars he had accidentally seen when she had been injured, her magic absent.

Azriel’s eyes finally met hers, the hazel dark with fury and…pity. Anger sparked like a match to dry grass.

“How dare you,” she whispered, low and lethal.

His jaw clenched.

“Eris would never. Those marks—” Her voice cracked before she could seal it, but she forced the words out. “They’re from Beron. And yes, occasionally Jasper or the twins, Archer and Aster, when they’re particularly short-tempered and I’m too clever for my own good. But never Eris.”

Azriel’s wings twitched. “You expect me to believe that? After what he did to Mor—”

“You don’t know what truly happened.”

“He left her dying on the border of your court!”

“And you’re still parroting that version of the story?” Her voice rang, sharp as glass. “He told Rhysand the truth when he first became your ally. And if Mor and Rhys trust him, why the hell won’t you?”

Azriel’s voice turned cold. “You mean he spun a lie to manipulate Rhys—”

She cut him off, eyes blazing. “You think your precious High Lord can’t see through a lie? You think Mor couldn’t?”

“Then why wouldn’t she have told me? Told us?”

“Maybe,” Adara snarled, “she thought your head would explode if you were forced to confront your own stupid assumptions. Maybe she figured it was easier for you to keep hating Eris than admit you’d been wrong for centuries.”

Azriel said nothing. His shadows curled tighter around him like a stormcloud.

But something in him bristled. And that spark of resistance, that refusal to yield, sent heat roaring through her again.

“Oh, but it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?” she snapped, her breathing ragged. “You’d rather cling to your version of Eris the villain. Just like you’re clinging to this fantasy you’ve built around Elain.”

His expression hardened.

“Sweet, gentle Elain,” she went on bitterly. “So soft, so perfect. You get to pretend you’re not the Spymaster who tortures and kills, because she doesn’t want to see that part of you.”

Azriel’s wings flared, the air around him going razor-sharp. “Careful.”

“I see the appeal,” she said, voice like ice, “but you should be careful. Falling for someone you can’t be your true self with never ends well, trust me.”

His jaw worked. “You don’t know anything about—”

“She’s barely twenty-four.”

“So? Feyre was nineteen when she met Rhysand, and twenty when she was made High Lady.”

“Exactly,” she shot back, eyes narrowing. “What is it with you Night Court males and going after young women?”

He scowled. “He didn’t go after her like some predator. They’re mates. Equals.”

He faltered. A beat. A breath.

“Exactly,” she said softly. The final nail in the coffin.

Azriel’s expression shuttered entirely. His wings tucked tight to his back. His shadows swirled so tightly around him she could barely make out his features.

He’d backed himself into a corner. She hadn’t even needed to say it aloud. Elain already has a mate.

Lucien. Not him.

Azriel didn’t speak to her again for the rest of the day.

next chapter

// ooft. drama hehe

Just a PSA, I'm not necessarily anti-feysand or anti-elriel, but I felt like the age/power imbalance between the Archeron sisters and the Bat Boys should be mentioned. Also, obviously this is a Azriel x OC fic, so I'm going to go against elriel a bit, but it's nothing personal against that ship. Plus I just love Lucien lol.

I'm not going to explicitly explain in this fic what went down between Eris and Mor, just because I think it's much more interesting for readers to fill in the blanks with their own theories and head cannons. If you have one, please comment because I'd love to hear it!

[ramonag-if]

💐 "I wish to court you." 💐

A rare moment of vulnerability from Anu, who offers you her heart. What will you do with it?

For those of you who’ve followed Crown of Exile, this is one of the quieter turning points, where longing finally turns into something braver.

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[humanityinahandbag]

Ready to conquer the week? A new chapter from @samthefrank and I might help make it more interesting!

This time around, Stone brings baked goods to the Sheriff's Office. It’s sure to be a fun time for all.