Everything felt so damned heavy, like my bones were lined with lead and I struggled to open my eyes. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I stopped bothering to waste my energy – I was tired anyway, might as well sleep a little longer...

"Is she waking up?"

The deep voice bounced off the walls of my mind, and I couldn't help but wince in pain. I didn't recognize it well enough to name it, but it was familiar, annoyingly so.

"Olivia," the voice requested again. "Can you hear me?"

The baritone voice continued to echo in my mind and the headache coming on was enough to make me groan. If my voice was working that is. Opening my mouth, I tried to form the words I needed, my tongue working uselessly as I tried to say that yes; I could hear them and yes; I was awake so would they shut the hell up already?

I fought to open my eyes – maybe if I glared at them, they'd get the hint? – and only managed to force one to glide open... Of course, I regretted it instantly when the light over-head burnt my irises. Gasping loudly in shock, the sound forced my throat to flare up in pain, and made me double over in a violent coughing fit.

"Damn it, turn off the light," the voice hissed.

Through my tightly closed lids, I saw the light disappear and groaned in relief. With the darkness playing the part of a soothing balm, I tried once more to open my burning eyes.

"Come on Liv, just a little bit more okay?" the voice prodded me. "Open them a little further..."

I finally managed to force them both open and blinked quickly, attempting to clear my blurry vision. I wasn't missing much though as it appeared, seeing as I was staring up at a clean and pristine ceiling painted a... oh, how fun.

White.

"Thank god, Olivia..."

I found myself turning my head, trying to see the features of the speaker and put a face to the disembodied voice. My eyes narrowed as I looked the older man over; studying the greying hair and kind face.

"Phil?" I croaked out, my voice weaker than I cared to admit.

Phil chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's me," he soothed.

The need to cough rose again, and my body shook as the violent coughs wracked through my body. Above me, the agent looked nervous but I faintly heard the doctor behind him say I would calm down shortly. Sure enough, after a few more painful coughs, my chest stopped tightening and relaxed, allowing me to relax with it.

I took a deep breath, everything rushing back to me in full force. "H-how long have I been out?" I demanded, my voice similar to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. "Phil?"

The agent winced before reaching to his right and grabbing a glass of water. "You might want to drink this," he suggested, helping me sit up before bringing the glass to my lips.

The water hit my parched throat and bounced back up, dribbling own my chin unattractively. Phil only smiled and wiped it away, bringing the glass forward again but coaxing me to drink slower this time around. It was slow process, but eventually I got a drink past my throat; soothing it in the meantime.

"Thanks, Phil," I smiled weakly.

He smiled back, placing the glass back on the side table. "You're welcome. Hungry yet?"

I shook my head, the thought of food making my stomach churn uncomfortably. "Nah, not yet," I whispered, my voice still quiet. He reached behind him and pulled a chair closer to the bed, dropping himself down. "How long have I been out?"

His expression took a serious turn. "Around two days now," he admitted.

My eyes widened but I didn't open my mouth to voice my shock. If I had been out for so long, then why weren't the others here with me..? "Where's everybody?" I asked, trembling voice and all.

Phil took a deep breath, resting against the back of his chair. "The others are, currently, in London I believe," he revealed, checking his phone quickly before nodding in confirmation.

I frowned. "What? Why?"

He ran a hand over his head, teeth worrying his lower lip. "Thanos is dead," he soothed with a small smile. "But, his right hand man – The Other – is still alive and kicking. Loki believed that once we killed Thanos, his army would die as well since they were born from his blood and controlled by his mind. Now, most of the bastards did die, just like they did the first time around, but a select few didn't."

I nodded, closing my eyes with a sigh. "So, until we've killed this Other guy, the alien bug things are still a threat," I finished in annoyance. "Why didn't this select few die?"

"Loki believes that these were the bugs with him are somewhat of a private guard," he explained. "The Other has been playing hide and seek since the fight, and his guard are elite; like super soldiers compared to the drones you fought."

I took another calming breath, leaning back against the crisp white pillow behind me. "How long do you think..." I asked softly, my sentence dying.

Phil shook his head, running a hand over his mouth. "We don't know Olivia, but don't expect it to be soon okay? His guard, as far as we know, only consists of about a dozen elite," he informed me, looking up and meeting my eyes. "It's been two days but we've managed to take out five of them."

"Damn," I muttered, swallowing back another coughing fit. I saw the man wince from the corner of my eyes and heard his mumbled apology, which I only waved away. "Are my girls here?" I asked next, eyes sparking with hope.

Phil smiled brightly, falling back on his usual charming persona. "I'll go get them, I'll be right back," he promised, already hurrying from the room.

Cocking a brow at his turned back, I sighed and relaxed again, peering around the room. My eyes landed on a single doctor, the man muttering to himself as he wrote things on a clipboard and studied the monitors to my side. Clearing my throat, I caught his attention. "How am I doing? If you don't mind me asking..."

He smiled blandly up at me. "You're doing wonderfully," he announced almost proudly. "Your healing rate is incredible."

I shifted awkwardly, studying the needle pumping fluids into my arm. "How long before I can get out of this infernal room?" I questioned next, softening the blow with a short lived chuckle.

"Much sooner than you think," he told me, lifting a dark brow.

I couldn't help but frown, head cocking curiously. "I don't understand..."

"Medical version, or quick and easy version?" he asked next, lowering his clipboard and holding it against his side. He dropped the pen on my bedside table and took up the seat the agent before him had vacated, adopting a friendly smile as he waited for my answer.

I sent him the most sarcastic look I could muster while bedridden. "Do you seriously need to ask?"

He laughed quietly. "Quick and easy it is then," he murmured before raising the volume of his voice. "Loki used his magic to keep you alive as the others got you here, and said magic started to accelerate your healing; almost as though he'd left a bit of it with you..." his eyes travelled back down to the clipboard, and he turned it around, pointing to a small graph and smiling. "You've healed like you've been here two weeks instead of two days."

I studied the graph, not understanding it but still chuckling in slight shock. "So how much longer?"

"If you keep this up..." he chewed over his next words. "Maybe one? Two more days?"

My mouth slipped open, hands shooting up in a victory punch. "Yes!" I yelled, resisting the urge to dance awkwardly in my bed.

The doctor chuckled just as the door slid open behind him. "Don't tire yourself," he muttered, leaving the chair and going back to his duties. "Or I'll make it three days, just to spite you."

Phil smiled at him before looking to me. "What are you so happy about?"

I blinked tiredly. "Doctor said I may only be here for another day or two," I murmured, wondering why in the hell my eyelids felt so heavy suddenly.

Phil's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Impressive."

I smiled warmly, waving a hand drunkenly. "I have to thank... Loki for that," I continued, leaning back against my pillow and yawning widely. "Buy him some chocolate or something..." Smothering the need to yawn again, I looked over to the agent in confusion. "Where are my girls?"

Phil smiled gently, dropping himself in the chair beside me. "They wanted to come, but the director said no."

I frowned, closing my eyes. "Why..." I yawned again. "Would he say no?"

His expression softened. "Because you need to rest," he commented gently, voice fading as I fell back into the deep sleep I'd only just awoken from.

I didn't know what the time was when my eyes finally opened once again, but the room was dark and empty. The only light offered was from the monitor at my side, and it lit up the room with a faint green glow.

Struggling to sit up, I looked around the room, half expecting someone to be watching me and scold me for the action. But when no one came, and the lights stayed dimmed, I shrugged before feeling around my chest, peeling away the cables that were attached to my body. Behind me, the monitor started to scream but I ignored it, pushing the blanket off and pulling the needle from my arm.

"Gross," I muttered, struggling to stand on shaking feet. The green light decorating the room revealed where the door was, the metal shining under the glow and I stumbled towards it, intent on leaving the room despite the demand for me to stay in bed.

As I moved, another faint light caught my attention and I turned, squinting at the laptop sitting on the desk, its screen saver bouncing across the darkened screen. Moving closer, I wiggled my finger across the mouse pad, startling the screen awake before yelping and shielding my eyes from the harsh light. Cursing under my breath, I peered through a crack in my fingers, trying to find the date and time.

Finding the time, I groaned aloud, recognizing it as three in the morning. "Bloody hell," I murmured, voice thick with sleep.

The date was next, and vaguely I remembered the date of the attack was the eighteenth, and I woke up two days later... So I woke up on the twentieth right? And today was the... I gaped and stumbled back from the laptop.

Today was the twenty-fifth.

I'd slept for five days? Impossible... Rubbing my eyes, I leant closer against and studied the date, eyes widening more. I really had overslept, hadn't I?

Stumbling from the room, I all but fell into the hallway, groaning as I barely stopped myself from landing on the ground. If the computer was telling the truth, that meant I had managed to rest more than the doctor ordered, so any excuse thrown at me now was void. Shielding my eyes from the bright over head lights, I squinted, watching as a few agents ran past me, their footsteps banging loudly against the steel flooring.

One stopped, hesitantly walking closer to me. "Are you alright ma'am?" he asked gently.

I managed a sarcastic expression, despite just waking up from hibernation. "I'm just dandy," I muttered venomously, wondering why he looked so concerned about my wellbeing.

He shifted, eyes dropping to my body before meeting my eyes once again. "Do you need directions?" he offered next, looking at the men who had carried on down the hall without him. "Again?"

Again?

I frowned at the words, but it was like a light going on in my head. "Oh, you're the guy who helped me the other day," I noted, forcing my frown to morph into a smile. "Actually, I'm trying to get to the bridge?"

"Oh, did you just get back with the others?" he questioned.

I perked up, my smile turning genuine. "Others?" I echoed hopefully.

"The other Avengers ma'am," he explained quickly, waving one hand at me. "You look like you've been to hell and back," he added sheepishly, wincing as though he expected reprimand for the comment.

Looking down at myself, I took in the medical grade white shorts and sports bra, along with the fresh bandage wrapped around my midsection. "Oh..." I started awkwardly. "Let's just ignore that – can you take me to the bridge?" I pushed, pressing a hand against my stomach almost protectively.

He hesitated but nodded, signalling for me to follow him as he began to walk down the hallway – the opposite direction I'd been walking in. I hurried after him, trying to claw away the bandage as we went along. It took only a few minutes, so I only managed to get off one or two layers of the infernal cotton before we'd arrived.

"Just through there," he announced. "Be careful though; it's late and their all grumpy and tired as hell," he warned with the ghost of a smile.

Get this boy a promotion...

I took a deep breath, offering up my own smile before pushing through the door and stepping through. No one noticed my unorthodox arrival but my handler who only managed a shock look as he moved towards me.

"Olivia?" Phil noted, looking over his shoulder. "Are you sure you should be out of bed?"

I gave him a small look, tilting my head in question. "Where are they?" I said in way of a response. "And I was meant to be out of the damned room almost three days ago."

Phil nodded before hesitating with a short frown. "You're right, but the doctor said you wouldn't still be resting if you didn't need it," he muttered before sighing. "And they're in the debriefing room."

I clasped both hands under my chin, adopting a pleading expression. "Take me there?" I begged quietly, widening my eyes and jutting out my lower lip.

He bit his lower lip before nodding reluctantly, taking my arm as he led me back through the door. We walked in silence, his eyes flicking to my stomach occasionally before he'd sigh and walk faster or slower, depending on what he apparently saw there.

"He's dead," he suddenly voiced, smiling over at me faintly. "The Other."

I laughed quietly. "Thank god," I murmured, resisting the urge to cover my stomach protectively against his gaze. "The worlds already a bright place without him, but I'll make sure to say something nice at the funeral."

Phil chuckled. "I would be careful if I were you," he warned, shaking away my previous words. "Even Bruce and Steve are cranky, so that's really saying something..."

My eyes widened, mind short circuiting. "Whoa," I muttered.

"You're just lucky you didn't have to see them before," he shuddered, eyes flicking down – again – to my stomach before his gait slowed, hand on my arm forcing me to slow with him. "I think I'm going to have nightmares..."

I raised a brow, sighing as we slowed. "Lucky? No, because I'm going to see them after the director has pissed them off even more," I pointed out with an eye roll.

"Ohh," he winced, lips tugging down. "Tough break."

I spluttered at his words but deflated like a popped balloon. "Yeah, yeah thanks," I muttered sarcastically.

His features sobered up, the smile dissipating. "How are you?" he asked slowly, gesturing to the bandages with his free hand, the other tightening around my arm.

"I'm fine," I soothed, smiling over to him in comfort. "I feel just like I did before it all happened... Only a little cold, who the hell designed these outfits?" I demanded lowly, picking at the shorts.

I continued to pull at a loose thread, murmuring curses under my breath as I walked forward. It took me a few seconds to notice that beside me was only empty air and I turned, cocking a brow at the agent standing a few feet behind me. "Phil?" I questioned, frowning. "What's wrong?"

He looked up, licking his lips before gesturing to my stomach. "What... uh, what does it look like?" he asked, slowly moving towards me again.

I shrugged, looking down as well before continuing my previous tearing, trying to find my flesh again. Managing to get it all off, I stared down at my stomach, running the tips of my finger over the thin jaggered scar left on the bronzed skin.

Phil let out a whistle, reaching out himself. "Looking good," he allowed, gingerly tapping the scar tissue.

I rolled my eyes, shrugging as I dropped my hands. "Thanks," I murmured, looking at the doors around me. "That's the room right?" I questioned, reading the metal carved sign with a raised brow.

Phil just smiled, gesturing for me to open the door. Taking a deep breath, I followed his advice, pushing open the door and strolling into the room.

Edited; 8th September 2015

One more chapter, my goodness, I forgot that this was one of my shortest stories. Thank goodness though; it wasn't the best one I've ever written.

Taila xx