So, I had some free time and decided to write a small companion piece to 'You Are My Sunshine'. It's based off Five Finger Death Punch's cover of 'Gone Away'. Enjoy.
Maybe in another life,
I could find you there.
Steve couldn't move. He stood, stock still, in the middle of the room, staring down at his wife in utter horror. The bland, rusty walls seemed to be closing in on him and the dirt that had settled on the cement floors dusted around his feet as he dared a small shuffle toward Jack. His breath hitched in his throat and he felt his heart stop. He could feel his whole world crashing down around him as he looked at Jack with heartbreak and pain in his eyes. The blood pooling around the woman's body, her shallow breathing, and the shivers of her small frame as the cold embrace of death began to take her shook Steve to his very core.
"Jack," Steve rasped out in fear as tears filled his eyes. He dared to take a step toward her shivering body, dust kicking up around his feet, hoping that this was all just a bad dream. Hoping that she would pick herself up and walk away as if nothing had happened. Hoping that she would live. "H-How did this," he cut off, unable to finish that sentence.
His beautiful wife, the light of his life, looked up at him with lifeless eyes. "Steve," she croaked out. A small cough followed by a steady stream of blood, pooling from her lips and body. She felt so much pain. Not from the hole in her stomach, but from seeing the love of her life in pain and the unshed tears in his eyes. Jack's heart broke as she watched the tears fall from his eyes and she wished that she could kiss them away and tell him that she would be alright. But she knew that she wasn't walking away from this one, not this time. The hole in her stomach was fatal and she had already lost too much blood. She didn't know what was more fearful; her imminent death, or the wrath that Steve would inflict on the one who caused it.
Steve lurched forward, his shield and cowl lying forgotten on the floor as he threw them to the ground and ran to Jack's side. He pressed his hands to the grievous wound in hopes to stop the blood flow, but he knew that it was hopeless. "You're gonna be okay, doll," he told her, using the affectionate nickname that he had given her when they started dating. He looked from the wound to Jack's face, trying, and failing, to give her a reassuring smile. "You'll be okay. We're gonna walk away from this, just like we always do. And then, we're gonna go on vacation and start on that family that we always talked about."
Jack pulled his hands from her bleeding stomach and held them in her much smaller, colder, hands. His blue eyes, the eyes that she loved so much, looked into her dull, heterochromic ones. Steve could see the fire dying in her eyes, just as he could feel his own fire burning out at the sight of her bloodied and beaten body. The way that her hair, usually sitting so perfectly as it flowed down her back, was tangled and matted together with blood. Her usually soft skin, bruised and blackened from her fight against her opponent. Her lips were beginning to fade into a pale blue rather than the plump pink they always were and her tan skin was paling quickly. Steve could see that Jack could not cheat death this time as she had so many times before. He knew that this was the end and felt his heart break even more to see that she was giving up. That was something that Jack had never done, and to see the look in her eyes as she let herself slowly slip away was enough to make even the most hardened man, or woman, break into tears.
"I'm not making it this time, sweetie," she told him in a ragged whisper as a sad smile graced her lips. "I'm gonna die, right here and now, knowing that I saved the world for the second time in my life." As she saw Steve's tears falling down his cheeks, tears of her own formed in her eyes. She reached up a bloodied hand and wiped them away before letting her hand cup his cheek. Steve grabbed that hand and held it tightly, not willing to let go. "Please," she rasped out. "Just," she paused, wincing and grimacing in pain as she took a deep breath. "Just hold me."
The blonde haired, blue eyed super soldier nodded before scooping her up into his arms, being careful not to jar her too much, before leaning his back against the wall just as she had moments ago. He wrapped his arms around her body as they came to rest right below her wound. Jack leaned against his chest with a satisfied smile as she let her head loll to the side. She gazed at Steve with heartbreak evident in her eyes as tears fell down her cheeks, but Steve could still see the love in her eyes. Her soldier reached up a hand and wiped the tears from her face before cupping the back of her neck in his large hand. "I love you, soldier," she told him as his forehead came to rest against hers.
Steve responded in kind with a painful, "I love you, too, doll." Both shedding tears of pain and goodbye, Steve pulled Jack even closer to his body. The warmth that he was giving her was welcomed against the cold embrace of death as it became stronger and tighter with each ragged breath that she took.
Neither of the two, so wrapped up in each other, noticed a door to the right fly open nor the footsteps that followed. The team had entered, hoping that their fearless leader and teammate were alive, but stopped short at what they saw. The sight before them was enough to make them widen their eyes in disbelief as sorrow and fear took over their bodies, minds, and hearts.
Jack, the spitfire and wildcard of the team, was laying in the arms of her husband with blood pooling around them at an alarmingly fast rate. Her black turtleneck, the one she always wore on missions, was ripped and torn and her body was covered in blood and dirt along with her black fatigues. Her red and blue eyes were shedding fast tears as she and Steve looked at one another with regret and love. Said man was holding his wife in his arms, his shield and cowl a few feet away and laying on the floor, forgotten. His red, white, and blue suit was covered in Jack's blood, but he paid no heed to it as he brushed some of her hair away from her eyes.
They watched on as Jack inclined her head just the slightest bit and pressed her lips to Steve's. He responded with fervor, still hoping against all hope, that this was just a bad dream. That he would wake up, next to Jack, in their apartment at the Avenger's tower with their German shepherd, Arty, laying at the foot of their bed. But he knew better. He knew that she wasn't walking away from this one. Not this time. He knew that, when he went to bed tonight, he would wake up cold and alone.
As Steve held her close to him, he could feel her body going limp. His lips were still pressed to hers even after she had taken her last breath. His whole body shook with sobs as her head lolled back against his hand that cupped her neck. Tears flowed down his cheeks and onto her pale body as he buried his face in her neck, crying out. "No," he whimpered, feeling vulnerable for the first time since he had woken up from the ice. "No!" he screamed in agony. "You swore," he spoke, his voice quiet and broken. "You swore that you'd never leave me."
Pulled away before your time.
I can't deal. It's so unfair.
The team watched the scene with sadness. Each and every one of them had tears in their eyes at the sight of Captain America and Wild Card, one crying out for his beloved while the other lay lifeless in his arms. Even the usually stoic and emotionless Black Widow and Hawkeye were shedding silent tears. The billionaire, Tony Stark, hid his under his Iron Man mask, shielding them from view. Thor lowered his head in hopes to do the same, but failed as they fell from his eyes and onto the dirty floor below him. The Hulk had long since shrunk back to Bruce Banner who, by now, was openly shedding his tears at the sight before him.
They all knew that they would never be the same after such a tragic loss. They knew that Jack was the glue that held the crazy puzzle that was the team together. Without her, they weren't much of a team. She was the one who believed in them when they didn't believe in themselves. The one who knew them better than anyone. She was a sister to them, a wife to Steve, and a niece to Fury. They could only imagine how her father, Logan 'The Wolverine' Howlett, would take such news.
As they stood in the middle of the room, shedding tears of pain with their heads lowered in respect and remorse, Steve continued to hold onto Jack's lifeless body. He continued to hope against all hope that she would open her eyes and smile at him. No one had the heart, or the balls, to try and pull him away from her. They knew that he would fight them with everything in him if they tried to pry her body out of his arms. What they truly feared, however, was his wrath against the one who had caused the death of his beloved.
Steve continued to shed silent tears as he lifted Jack's limp body into his arms bridal style. The last time he had done this, she had broken her leg on a mission that they had been on. A building had exploded and debris had fallen on her leg causing a clean break of the bone. He had picked her up bridal style and carried her to the jet that would take them back to base. He remembered Jack smiling at him and joking about him being her hero. She would giggle and tell him that it wasn't as romantic as their wedding night and laugh outright when Steve would blush. But now, as he carried her, there was none of that. There was no laughter or smiles nor the sound of her melodic voice. Only tears that flowed freely down his cheeks as he stripped himself of his pride and held her prone, lifeless form against his chest.
Steve passed right by the rest of the Avengers without so much as a sideways glance, and none of them felt offended in the slightest. They knew that the man, their fearless leader, had just lost his entire reason for living. They knew that he would never be the same, just as none of them would. Losing Jack to such a tragic death, just shortly after they had lost Phil, was the breaking point for all of them.
And it feels, it feels like,
Heaven is so far away.
The first to follow behind Steve was Natasha. She gave a slight sniffle as tears fell from her eyes while she grabbed Steve's cowl and shield. Seeing Jack so, lifeless, was a shock to her system entirely. Natasha had always known the dark haired woman to be vibrant and outgoing. She was the backbone of the team and the one that had put them all in their places when they stepped out of line. Nat had always called her the fearless one of the group as she was willing to do whatever it took to keep the world, and everyone she loved, as safe as possible. She would never forget all of the fun that she and Jack had as she had been the one to break through Natasha's icy exterior and reach the warmth inside of her. But with Jack gone, Natasha felt her heart harden over once more with a thick and unbreakable layer of ice.
Clint was right behind Natasha. He had wiped away his tears, trying to keep up a strong front, but he knew that everyone knew better. Jack had been the first one to trust him after Loki had controlled him. She was always there to make him laugh and feel like he was worth something. She had always called him names like bird brain or shit bird, and while some saw it as her being cruel, he knew that it was just the way Jack showed affection. She was the first to chew him out when he blamed himself for what had happened and held him when he cried for what he had done. She held his hand, just as he held Natasha's, when Phil died and they had the memorial service for him. Jack was the closest thing Clint had to a little sister, and without her, he felt the need to keep everyone safe fall to his shoulders, just as she did when she was alive.
Following after Clint was Thor, his head hung low in sorrow and his heart feeling heavy. He felt the pain weigh down on him as he let the realization that he would never again hear the bright and bell like laughter of his little sister again, hit him like a ton of bricks. He would miss her questioning him ruthlessly of Asgard and his customs. As he remembered Jack, he thought of a warrior who was worthy, if only in his eyes, of lifting his beloved and stubborn, Mjolnir. Thor would forever be grateful to Jack for making him feel welcome and at home here on Midgard as she taught him many of the customs that he was still unsure of, and even accepted him as her big brother. She had taught him how to use a phone and call people as well as play games on the small, rectangular device. It was with grief that he said a silent goodbye to his strong and beautiful little sister.
Bruce was on Thor's heels as he pulled the loose pants tight around his waist so as to keep them from falling. For once in his life, he could feel something other than rage and anger from the Other Guy. When he had heard from Natasha that Jack wasn't responding, he felt fear bubble up inside the big guy. That fear was enough to bring Bruce back from the confines of the Hulk's mind and to the outside world. The fear was now replaced with sorrow and an ache in his heart at the thought that his sister, the one who believed in him over anyone else, was now dead. He feared for the future of the team with Jack's absence. She was the crazy glue that held them all together, and that scared Bruce. Knowing that she wouldn't be there to calm him down, or keep Tony in his place, or stop Steve from killing anyone who hurt her. He would miss the talks that she had with him in the lab and her eagerness to learn as well as her bravery and loving heart.
Tony was the last to follow the group. He stood in the room alone, looking at the blood on the floor with grief in his dark orbs and his heart slowly breaking. He simply shook his head as he flew off ahead of the team so as to meet them at the base where a jet would be waiting to pick them up. He found it difficult to fly with the tears that refused to fall as they blurred his vision, but he managed. He just couldn't believe that Jack was actually gone. He kept waiting for her voice to come through his headset and start singing some stupid upbeat pop song and laughing at him as he complained about her taste in music. He shook his head once more, praying to whatever god there may be, that he would wake up in his lab to Jack poking at him with one hand and food in the other, bitching to him and Bruce about how they needed to take better care of themselves. But he knew that he was just setting himself up for disappointment. The storm clouds were settling in, and he knew that his Sunshine wouldn't be there anymore to brighten his day as she danced in the rain with a smile on her face, laughter in her voice, and mischief and love in her eyes.
Leaving flowers on your grave,
To show that I still care.
Steve Rogers stood in front of the small memorial. His body was just as still as the stone before him. The obsidian colored marble seemed to mock him. Displaying her name like it was a badge of honor. The rain came down in torrents, but the blond paid no heed to it. He welcomed it. The water running down his cheeks in small rivulets masked the tears.
He could still remember her face, as if he had seen her just yesterday. Her long, ebony hair and bright smile. He could still see her eyes, so bright and loving, each time he closed his own. The long scar that ran down the left side of her face and how her two front teeth were just slightly overlapped. He could still remember how she always smelled of gunpowder and cotton candy. And he could still hear her voice, her laughter ringing in his ears.
But it had been months since he lost her. Months of sleeping alone with no one to calm him after a nightmare. Months without her next to him or her voice and touch to calm him. It was too much for him to bare. It was so unfair. Just when he had finally found his happiness with her, she was ripped away from him too soon. She was still so young, and yet she had been taken from this world violently. He held her as she died, and his mind flashed back to that day.
He could still feel her body shaking as she grew cold. The smell and feel and sight of the blood that pooled around her, flowing freely from the gaping wound in her stomach. He could still see the fear in her heterochromic eyes as they filled with tears. Steve had watched, holding her as her body grew pale and cold. And when he kissed her one last time, he still held on even after he knew that she was gone.
Black roses and Hail Mary's,
I can't bring back, what's taken from me.
Steve reached down, placing the small bouquet of flowers in front of her headstone. He got her back roses. For death and loss. For mourning. For her. She had loved the unique beauty in the dark flowers. They were some of her favorite. She had always told Steve that they reminded her that there was beauty in even the darkest times, you just had to search for it. But all the beauty in his world had left with her.
No matter how many times he sent up a silent prayer, he still woke, each and every day, without her next to him. No more would he hear her voice speaking to him or humming a soft tune. Gone was the true love of his life. The only woman to ever truly make him feel whole.
"Happy birthday, doll," Steve choked out. A hand clapped his shoulder in reassurance and comfort. He knew that it was Logan, the musky scent mixed with the rain and oil giving him away.
The rest of the Avengers stood around the two of them, all dressed in black and letting the rain soak them to the bone. It seemed that nothing mattered to any of them anymore. Not since she had been taken from them.
Natasha was the first to step forward, her black dress dripping water on her heel clad feet. The water seemed to roll off of the material, but her red hair was limp and wet, sticking to her face, cheeks, and neck. Her green eyes seemed to give everything, and nothing, away. Her full lips were pulled down in a frown, her face devoid of any emotion.
In her hands she held a large conch shell. It was soft and smooth with golden and white stripes around it. She leaned down, placing the shell at the foot of the headstone. When she stood once again,she said, "I went to Greece just to find a shell like that. On the beach in Santorini." She wiped at her cheeks. "It was one of your favorite places. You loved the crystal clear waters and the history and the people." She then fell quiet, clearing her throat before stepping back.
Thor was the next to step forward. His long, blond hair was in disarray and pulled back messily. His thunderous blue eyes were bloodshot, his nose raw and pink. The black shirt and dark jeans he wore matched the somber mood of the small affair. However, as he leaned down, everyone grinned as he placed a box of Hot Fudge Sundae Pop-Tarts wrapped in plastic at the foot of the stone. "They were your favorite," he said by way of explanation. "You would warm in the toaster and dip them in milk. You always made sure to share them with me."
Bruce clapped Thor on the shoulder as he stepped back. The quiet scientist took his place, his glasses speckled with water droplets. He wore a grey blazer over his black button down, but it didn't stop the rain from soaking through his clothes. In his hands he held two gifts. He placed a small, plush wolf that was black and grey and white on the foot of the stone. "Hulk picked it out," he said. "He knew much the 'tiny angel' loved them. And I got you this." He then placed a book of poetry down. "I know how much you loved Poe. I've been reading him more. Suits my mood."
Bruce stepped back, removing his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. Natasha placed a comforting hand on his arm, the two smiling at one another.
Clint came forward next. Black shirt and black jeans to match his mood. He looked so defeated, with his dead eyes and pale face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a beautiful knife. The blade was sharp and a soft grey color. The handle was black and had the words 'Wild Card' engraved on the side. "I had this commissioned months ago, before," he stopped, choking back a lump of emotion. "Anyway, I had your alias engraved on it. You were deadly with this things."
It was Tony who stepped forward next. He didn't say anything for a moment as the sound of ceramic against marble was heard. The others could see that he placed down a small coffee mug. It was white, with a big, yellow sun crudely painted in the middle. Beneath the sun, however, it made everyone look at Tony in a new light. In his handwriting were the words 'You are my Sunshine' painted beneath the sun. "Happy birthday, Sunshine," he choked out. "I know how much you loved your coffee and those, weird DIY gifts. We miss ya, kid."
I reach to the sky, and call out your name.
Oh please let me trade. I would.
"Why her?" Tony asked suddenly. "Why? When she was the best of us all, why did it have to be her?" He then shook his head, Steve frowning at his words. Natasha looked at him with understanding and Clint and Bruce looked at him with pity. Thor and Logan just continued to stare at the headstone. "I'd give anything to trade places with her," he said softly. "She didn't deserve this."
Logan then stepped forward, looking Tony in the eye. "You're a good man, Stark," he started. "But if it had been you, she'd say the same. She'd be here wondering why she couldn't trade places with you." He then looked back at the headstone. "I won't lie, I'd rather it have been one of you instead of her. But, it was her, and there's no changing the past."
Tony nodded in understanding, falling quiet as he shed a few silent tears.
Logan stepped forward, kneeling in front of the stone. He reached into his leather jacket, the rain pelting against the worn material. He pulled out a small, simple picture frame, sitting it at the foot and smiling at it. "Happy birthday, ass hole," he laughed through a few tears. "You're a shit for dying before my old ass, but I'm damn proud of you." His whiskey colored eyes fell on the picture. "You looked so beautiful that day. I remember when you told me that I was gonna walk you down the aisle, and if I let you fall then you'd kick my ass." He let out another watery laugh before heaving a deep, heavy sigh. "I love you, kid. You were always mine. Not by blood or law, but because you always said so."
When he stood, stepping back from the stone, everyone's breath caught in their throats. The picture was of her. Her ebony hair pulled back in a soft updo with curly tendrils framing her face. Her full lips were pulled back in a bright smile, her heterochromic eyes bright and happy. Her skin was tanned and soft, the way they remembered. Her satin and lace gown was white and was just the right amount of classy and sexy. Steve and Logan were on either side of her, both smiling at the camera. Behind them stood the rest of the Avengers, each dressed to the nine and all smiles as they celebrated the wedding between their two friends.
And it feels, it feels like,
Heaven is so far away.
The small group stood in silence together as the rain poured down on them. They all gazed at the picture, tears filling their eyes as they remembered their fallen Avenger.
In Memory Of
Jacqueline 'Jack' Howlett-Rogers
A Hero Beyond Measure
A Sister and Friend
A Daughter and Wife
She Was the Sunshine After the Storm