A/N: So the whole virus thing is getting worse, but you didn't come here to read all about that. Instead I'll tell you all about the work I probably should be doing right now but am not, it's not like the teachers can do anything. Like? They can't give me detention? I mean I will do it at some point, I love my a-level teachers and to upset them would be a sin. Also, is anyone watching the Prodigal Son? I got into it because Michael Sheen was in it but ended up really enjoying it and absolutely adoring the character Malcolm. I would recommend it to all!

Anyway, I don't have much to say here other than I hope you enjoy the chapter and all reviews are appreciated and wanted very much!

Hermione Romanoff: Thank you for the review, it DOES feel like everyone including Peter has given up hope apart from Harry. Let's just hope it turns out that it won't end badly…

Vixen122: The incorrect quotes are my favourite part of a chapter, especially if that chapter is sad because it adds just a little bit of happiness. I really enjoy writing the interactions between Adara and the Soul Stone, mainly because it doesn't feel much human emotion so needs things stated literally, but then continues to be confusing anyway. Thank you for reviewing and I'm glad you liked the chapter :)

Anonymouse: Haha, I like the name, very clever. I'm gonna be honest I had to google what grade seven was because in the UK we don't have that kind of system, so I'm in my first year of sixth form and I believe that's the equivalent to Grade 11? Thank you for sticking with this story for so long, from the very beginning because this thing feels old now and it's SO long. I'm glad you've stuck with it though!

Thanks to: Hermione Romanoff, Odie.18, Sojie204, vixen122, anonymouse, pvrkcrr, cloudkid, Puzzle.137 and estaciojohnrafael for either leaving a review or following/favouriting on the last chapter. Once again I cannot stress how much your support means to me, especially now that we're so close to the end. Thank you all!


"The water was cool and you're shining

The windows were burning patterns in my mind

And running away was so tiring

Holding your stare, I felt miles behind"


The school hallways went silent when the kids spotted Harry. It was at times like this did he wish he had Adara's powerful glare, or her ability to threaten people, but no one would be scared of him, he was too skinny. Instead, he just straightened his back and continued staring dead ahead as whispers followed him on his way to his locker. He could only imagine the rumours that were spreading like wildfire, made only worse by the fact that Peter hadn't come back to school, and no one had heard from Adara. He did hear that, immediately after the incident, the press had appeared outside of the school to attempt to interview kids and teachers, but Principal Morita had told them to clear off.

He got to his locker and put in his code, doing his best to ignore the stares burning into his back. Thankfully, loud chatter had started back up in the corridor, relieving him of some of the tension that had been on him.

He heard someone lean against the locker to him and he silently dreaded to see who it was, only to turn and see Jason Ionello. His ex, and friend, maybe. Harry just kind of knew him as his ex at this point. Ex who he had made out with just before this whole mess started.

Pay attention, he told himself.

"Hey, Jason," he said.

"Hey, Harry," the boy gave him a crooked smile, "long time no see. Are you okay?"

"I've been better," he sighed, "how are you?"

Jason just shrugged, "sorry to hear about your dad. He was a good man."

He wasn't, but Harry wasn't going to correct him. It would just start up more questions, not to mention it would be disrespectful. He wanted to keep the Green Goblin incident quiet, it was better if no one found out about it, it would just tarnish a dead man's image and there was no point now. Harry knew that his dad was ill and desperate, and he would also know that he would need therapy for it in a year or so time.

"I'm sorry to hear about it too," Harry said. "That's why I was away for so long, you know? My dad and then… Well, you know, everything else."

"Be honest with me, how long did you know?"

"A long time," Harry closed his locker and turned to face Jason fully, "since the day I met her."

"What…?"

Jason didn't seem to know how to phrase the question, and Harry didn't know how to answer. They were keeping Adara's condition quiet on purpose so it wouldn't get out to the press. Looking around, he could see people peering at them curiously.

He swallowed and said, "not here. We want to keep it quiet."

Jason nodded understandingly and continued.

"You missed the worst of it," he said, "it was pretty much a disaster when MJ and Ned came back yesterday. A lot of questions, a lot of fighting, mainly from MJ's end."

"Who was she fighting with?"

"Brad, Jackson, idiot jocks who don't know how to keep their mouths shut. They were trying to act all sad and like they knew the whole time that Beck was a liar, but MJ called them out on their BS. It didn't end well."

"What about Flash?"

"The boy's been having a mental breakdown over the fact that Peter was Spiderman for about a week now," Jason shrugged. "It's hard for him to imagine that his hero was also his worst enemy, and also it was Peter who stole his car after homecoming." Harry sniggered at the memory. "I think he's trying to deny it, calling Beck a liar again but we've all seen the photo with him with his mask off with Adara on… You know…"

Harry hadn't seen the photo, refused to look at it actually despite how many newspaper front pages it was plastered onto. The photo taken by a random standby as Peter held onto an injured Adara, from what he heard it was rather bloody and sad. Harry didn't want to see it, or he might begin to doubt that she would recover.

"Yeah," said Harry softly.

"As for the Bluebell," Jason went on, "I don't think it was that much of a surprise. I mean, no one knew but when you put in perspective everything they knew about the Bluebell and compared it to Adara… Well, it just made sense."

Harry nodded, he supposed it did. He glanced around again, they were in a quieter part of the school, the only people with them were a group of punks speaking rather loudly while one attempted to vape without anyone walking past noticing. They paid no attention to Harry or Jason.

Harry cleared his throat, "Adara's in a coma. Uh— Several of her organs shut down… Along with other injuries. She's not in a good state, she hasn't improved since she went through surgery."

Jason blinked, "do they think she'll recover."

"No," he said honestly, "from what I hear, the doctors don't think she'll wake up, and neither does anyone else."

"What do you think?"

Harry blinked at the question, but answered anyway, "I think she will. This is Adara we're talking about, she's always fine."

"Okay," said Jason, "well, I believe you too."

Harry smiled, "really?"

"You know Adara better than me. Truthfully, you probably know her better than most, maybe even more than Peter, but don't tell him I said that. You're her best friend, if you think she wakes up then so do I."

It was nice to have his hope confirmed, especially if it was by his Ex, of all people. Despite all of their bickerings and arguments, Jason had always understood Harry well.

"I just want you to know," said Jason, looking at the floor and then back at Harry. "Even if everything somehow gets crappier than it already is, I'll be there for you. If you want me to be."

"Thanks, Jason," said Harry, "it means a lot."

"I know we argue a lot, especially in the past. And I don't really understand about half the things that go in your life, because I think its a lot crazier than mine. But I think, this time, now that the truth is out… Or, at least the important truths. I think maybe we can try again."

Harry was taken back by surprise, "you want to try again?"

"Not straight away," said Jason, face going bright red, "I mean… I wanna make sure that Adara's okay first, and so do you. And everything's kind of chaotic, so you'd probably want all that to blow over but… But… But if you want to— and obviously you might not want to and that's fine, but maybe if—"

Harry cut him off by kissing him, which earnt a whoop from one of the punk kids, something about destroying the system. He looked up at Jason (who was quite a bit taller than him), gripping his hands and smiled.

"I'd like to try again," he said, "I've always liked you, Jason."

Jason's shoulders sagged with relief, "I've always like you too, Harry."

"Do you want to skip French?"

"Oh, God yeah."


"You're the most horrific thing I could ever wake up to."

Luka was looking down at her, eyebrow raised, "not my fault you keep vanishing out of your own subconscious."

"What?"

"Doesn't matter," he said and offered her a hand.

Naturally, she batted away and pushed herself back up to her own two feet. She must be dreaming again now, as she couldn't feel the pain like she could back in the Soul world, if that was what it was called. The Soul Stone had told her she wasn't dreaming, so then what was she doing? If she was vanishing from her own subconscious, then where was she going? Could she even trust it's offer of life?

Then again, it wasn't a question of trust, it was a question of should she take it or not. Whether any thing she experienced with the Soul Stone was real or not, she had no other choice but to consider the offer, it was the one chance she had after all. But… To take someone else's life simply so she could live? Well, that was something else entirely. With a sigh, she sat back down on the steps that had been there before and put her face in her hands, trying to think.

Luka's eyes burnt into her, "what's on your mind?"

She glanced up at him, inspecting him closely, "if you could trade your life for someone else's, would you?"

"Whose life am I trading?"

"O'Leary's."

"Oh, God, yeah," he snorted. "I know I'm better than that asshole any day of the week. I wouldn't need to trade my life, I'd just kill him in a heartbeat," he tilted his head to the side. "But you spared him, even when you had him beaten, gun pointed right at his head, you spared him."

"Yes," Adara said flatly, "I thought it was the right thing to do."

"What do you think now?"

She just glared at him and continued her original line of thought, "the choice is simple. I can choose to die, or I can choose to live, and O'Leary will die."

"Seems pretty simple to me," Luka yawned and sat down beside her. "O'Leary is hardly a worthy contender for life." He paused and glanced at her, narrowing his eyes before going, "but I suppose…" He trailed off.

"What?"

"If I were you," he said, "and wanted to be morally worthy after all the people I was forced to kill as a child and then the amount of goons I then went on to kill in my teenage years and thus spared O'Leary. Well, then I guess I would choose to die."

Adara bliked, "you want me to die?"

"I'm just saying," he stood up and spread his arms out placatingly. "If I was a superhero, the Bluebell, that's what I would do. You don't want to play God or trade lives, this is all so selfish and—"

"Stop it," she sighed.

"What? You asked for my advice."

"I know what you're trying to do," her glare was withering, tired. "You know I don't listen to you and will do the exact opposite of what you say."

He shrugged, "it just seems like an obvious choice, Adara, you've killed before, this isn't any different."

"Shouldn't I be trying to stop killing people?" She asked.

"What? By dying yourself?" he scoffed and shook his head. "You're not a good person, Adara, far from it. But you're better than Hydra and much better than me. You've saved more people than you've killed, that's plain for anyone to see. If O'Leary continues to live he will kill hundreds, thousands. If you live, you'll save them."

"I didn't kill O'Leary," she said, "surely if I make this choice, I'm just proving his point?"

"Does it matter? He won't care, he's dead," Luka then sat back down next to her. "I died when a Hydra sniper shot at you and I took the bullet. Don't make my death void."

"You make it tempting."

"Seriously, Adara," said Luka. "Take it from a bad guy, you don't deserve to die here."

She tried to think of a clever retort, something to make him give up on her because she was a hopeless case, like he always had when she had been younger and filled with anger, hatred and rebellion. Instead, he looked more reasonable than he ever had in life. His eyes were still deathly cold, but it was clear that he cared, she supposed he had always cared in his own, horrible, toxic way. If there was one thing she could be sure of, it was that Luka had never wanted her to die.

Pierce had wanted her dead so Hydra scientists could reverse engineer the Chameleon Particle from her body. Luka had been the only reason he hadn't killed her. Pierce would've regarded her as pointless if he ever found out that another person, O'Leary, had identical abilities to her. Luka had made sure that Pierce never found out. Hydra had wanted her head on a pike after all the times she had thwarted her plan as the Bluebell. Luka had wiped her instead so they wouldn't kill her. A sniper had shot at her, Luka had pushed her out the way and died instead.

She supposed, in a strange way that she was thankful… Despite the fact that he was horrible, evil and abusive. At least she wasn't dead.

With a sigh, she said, "you're an ass."

"Yes, you've told me that."

"A terrible father."

"Hm. I gathered."

"Why can't I just move on from you?" She asked, "why are you always in my head?"

"You have moved on from me," he shrugged, "you've become your own person, a superhero. You've faced and defeated villains far more dangerous than me, and you managed to find it within you to forgive me when I was dying. Even if you say it wasn't genuine, you still said it to comfort a dying man. Despite every horrible thing I've done. You moved on a long time ago, I'll just always be here when you need me."

"I don't need you."

"The fact that you're having the moral quandary right now says you do," he pointed out. "But then again, maybe you're right. Maybe you don't need me right now."

She sighed and put her head in her hands digging her fingers into her hair and trying to clear her mind for a moment. But her mind was clear, it just wouldn't give her a straight answer. She wanted to live, she wanted life so badly. There were so many things she hadn't done, there were so many things she could still do. She wanted to quell the boiling rage that lived on in her heart, she wanted to dream something that wasn't horrific, she wanted to live a life with Peter. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently it was, as her head told her that, no matter what she wanted, it was selfish. This was playing God, this was taking a life that wasn't even if with her own hands. Didn't she want to become better than this? Surely it was better to die a martyr than a murderer?

"This is too complicated," she muttered to herself.

"You're making it more complicated than it needs to be," said another voice that didn't come from beside her but in front of her.

Glancing next to her, she noted that Luka was gone. In front of her was Natasha, appearing just as she did before. Red hair, straight down, how she looked when she first met her in that alleyway so many years ago.

"Do you want to live?" Asked Natasha.

Adara shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe it would be better to die, maybe it would be better to be with you."

Natasha sighed, "don't be silly Adara, I know you want to live. You always have, everyone does."

"Everything just got so much worse after you died," she said and bit her lip anxiously. "I could barely maintain a relationship with Peter, I felt like I was falling apart. One moment I would feel nothing, and then I would just be so angry. Angry with Peter, with Steve, with Beck and O'Leary. Even with Harry. I just wanted to lash out but every time I did… I didn't feel better. I felt worse."

She drew her finger along the scar that marked her face. A reminder of where her arrogance and anger led her.

"I just miss you," she said, "the world just became so much harder without you and I just felt angry all the time. I was even mad at you for dying."

Natasha gave her a sad smile and held out her hand. Adara stood up and walked towards her, and Natasha placed that hand on her cheek.

"I understand why this is hard for you, Adara," she said. "I always saw so much of myself in you. Anger, sadness, regret. You wanted to stop killing, you wanted to move on but sometimes you can't. And that's okay, this was never going to be easy. Sometimes, finding ways to heal is difficult."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just slip away then?" Asked Adara. "O'Leary is a shitty guy and he'll hurt more but… But so will I. Whether I do it for a good cause or not surely doesn't matter. If I die here now, it'll be easier, if moving on is hard. This will only make it harder."

"You'll find a way to overcome it," promised Natasha. "I know you will, no matter how hard it is. Because you're stubborn."

"What if I don't?"

"You will," insisted Natasha and her confidence was almost enough to make Adara believe her. "You're not suicidal, you're just sad. This choice won't make things easier, but it'll give you a chance. And you deserve a chance, Adara."

"So do I accept the Soul Stone's offer?"

"That's your decision to make," Natasha took a deep breath in and then smiled. Not sad but genuine this time. "Just… Promise me… If you do choose to live, don't do anything stupid."

Adara couldn't help but smirk, "I've never do anything stupid."

Natasha chuckled and ruffled her hair. Adara laughed too, but still pushed her hand away as she always used to do, but her smile fell again quickly.

"Steve always said that we don't trade lives."

"Steve isn't always right. He's made mistakes just like the rest of us."

"Morally, though, you do have to admit that he's got the upper hand."

"Maybe," considered Natasha. "But do you think he wants you to die? He doesn't care about O'Leary and neither should you. If you die now, he'll be heartbroken. So will everyone else you leave behind, think of them."

Adara blinked and then looked up at her, maybe for the last time.

"I love you, Natasha," she said, "I miss you."

"I miss you too," said the woman and pulled her into a tight hug. "But it's not your time to go yet."

"I'll see you again?"

"Hopefully, not for a long, long time."


Adara only opened her eyes when she felt Natasha's warm embrace vanish, and this time she was prepared for the sudden feeling of pain that jolted from her stomach to the rest of her body. Gritting her teeth, she couldn't quite handle it though, she fell to one knee and put a hand on the floor, submerging it in water.

"Have you made your choice?" Asked the Soul Stone.

It stood over her, orange eyes boring through her, a burning sunset in the sky around them. She looked up at it, breathing heavily through the agony in her body and frowned.

"What happens to you if I say no?" She asked.

"I will continue to exist."

"And if I say yes?"

"I'm not certain," it said, "but it would be using the last of the power within me. I suppose I will simply no longer exist, I will fade from this universe."

"Does that scare you?"

"No," it said, "nothing does. I will simply no longer exist, or perhaps I will be in a weaker state. I do not know."

"But that uncertainty… Surely it must make you scared?"

"If you do say yes," it said, "you will not mourn for me because I am not alive, I simply am. I do not feel fear or the primal things mortals do. This is one trade. Soul for a soul. You or O'Leary. Have you made your choice?"

Adara glanced at if for a little while longer, just because this thing resembled a human, doesn't mean there was one there. It wasn't even alien, it wasn't even really a being. Maybe it wasn't real, and this was just something her subconscious had invented a long time ago to cope with the events of the Snap. Maybe if she said yes or no, it wouldn't make a difference.

But she reckoned it did.

"I want to live," she said.

"So O'Leary will die?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, allowing herself to feel the pain and torment caused by the wound one last time.

"Yes," she breathed, "O'Leary will die. A soul for a soul. I want to live."

It inspected her, a flicker of something in those fiercely orange eyes. Interest? Curiosity? As if she were an animal in a zoo exhibiting strange behaviour. But the indifference remained. While its eyes glowed brighter than the sun, it did not have even a flicker of the fiery life and feelings that her own eyes held. It was not a being, it simply existed.

"Then," it said, "you will live."

And that was it all it had to say.


MJ visited the hospital again that evening. This time by herself, she hadn't heard off of Peter, Ned couldn't quite manage it and Harry said he would visit later after he got out of the 'serious discussion' he was being forced to have with his uncle.

One nurse nodded in greetings to her, her face still grim. She was becoming quite familiar with the nurses on this floor, it was so quiet as they were the only ones there, and she was there pretty much all the time. She walked past the waiting room with the large windows, the sun was setting over the city, the orange rays reflecting off the buildings. It signalled the end of another day in limbo, how long had it been now? More than a week, surely. It was difficult to keep track considering she hadn't been in school. Now that she had gone back, she was getting her grip on reality back, but everything still felt terrible.

She walked towards the room where Adara was, knocked twice and opened the doors.

Steve was there, it was only him. Often, other people came during the day and sat with him. Mainly Bucky and Sam, but Wanda had come a couple of times, along with Pepper, Happy and Morgan. Even Clint, accompanied by Lang, had stopped by once to keep him company. A lot of the time in the evening though, it was just him, with a book or sketchpad. He rarely left her side other than to go back to the apartment to shower. He was her guardian after all, he was simply an anxious parent who wouldn't dare leave Adara's side for too long, he even slept on a sofa here.

MJ also had a book in her bag, she was usually here for a good few hours and conversation tended to dry up quickly.

"Michelle, evening," Steve smiled. She had tried to insist he call her MJ, but he was too polite. "You wouldn't mind staying here for a while? I need to run back to the apartment, grab some things."

That meant shower and get changed. He couldn't do that here, after all.

"No problem," she smiled back at him, "Harry said he'd be here in about half an hour anyway."

"That's good," he nodded, "I won't be too long."

He left and MJ sat where he had sat, swinging her legs over the arm of the chair. She reached into her bag and got out her book on the darker history of American history (one of her favourite reads) and also her phone. Just a few texts, nothing to worry about. She put it in her pocket and flicked her book open to the page she had left it off on.

And then the heartrate monitor suddenly beeped quicker and she almost dropped it. She was so used to the steady rhythm that a difference threw her off. She glanced at it, it was now at a steady pace, but quicker. She glanced at Adara.

The girl's chest was rising and falling quicker, but other than that she didn't seem that different. Panic struck her, was she okay? Was she dying?

And then the girl gasped and opened her eyes. MJ did drop the book this time as Adara sat up and ripped off the oxygen mask on her face, breathing heavily and staring straight ahead. MJ was frozen in shock, staring at her wide-eyed as her friend simply looked down and seemed to inspect her stomach before shaking her head as if in disbelief.

"It worked," Adara said very quietly to herself. "It was real."

"Adara?" MJ managed to squeak the words out.

Meanwhile, Steve was on his way out the building, just coming out of the elevator to the ground floor. He stepped out onto the reception area, filled with people waiting to be looked at and also people waiting to see their families, or anxiously waiting for some results. It was much louder than the floor he was on up there, the chatter of patients and nurses filled the hall, some people were sad and worried, others were unbothered, maybe just there for a friend who had broken an ankle or something.

He walked past them and no one paid him much mind, it took him purposefully acting heroic in some way for someone to actually pick him out as the old Captain America. He appreciated the anonymity New York granted him, no one looked at each other unless they were making themselves known on purpose. It wasn't that different in his time, then again he had been much shorter and skinnier back then.

As he made his way to the exit, he heard someone yelling, but didn't really turn to look until he realised they were yelling his name.

"Steve! Steve!" He glanced over his shoulder to see the girl, Michelle.

She stopped for breath beside him, had she ran all the way down the stairs? The elevator didn't move that quick, she must've.

"Michelle?" He frowned.

Panting, she looked up, face a mix of excitement of confusion, "she's awake."

"What?" He said, thinking he misheard.

But he hadn't.

"She's awake."


A/N: See I wouldn't just KILL off Adara. She deserves a happy ending. We're getting really close to the end now, like only a few chapters away. There's about two chapters left and then two more for the epilogue but that's a rough estimate. Could be more, could be less. Anyway, guys, stay safe and stay home (if you can) and I hope you're all staying positive despite the circumstances. In the meantime: Incorrect Quotes.

Steve: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Peter: I've been zoning out for the past two hours.

Harry: I got distracted half-way through.

Adara: I made a conscious decision to ignore you.

And another one :)

Adara: Harry, we want you to be the godfather of our baby.

Harry: You know, I'm not really a kid person.

Adara: You don't have to be the godparent if you don't want to—

Harry: No, that's my Godchild. Back off.

I'm really sad this is ending soon but also kind of relieved.

Adara: Would it kill you to stop taking forty minute showers?

Harry: Physically? No. Emotionally? The toll would be catastrophic.

I'm looking forward to having more time to concentrate on my original writing which I haven't done in ages now.

Adara, leaning over to whisper to Steve: Steve has no idea I'm drunk right now.

Steve: You're drunk?

Adara: Oh, sorry.

Adara, leaning over to Harry: Steve has no idea I'm drunk right now.

Okay one more and then I'm snoozing.

MJ: Adara, I dare you to—

Peter: Adara isn't allowed to dares anymore.

Adara: Apparently I have "no regard for mine or other's personal safety."