A/N: OMG TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT ME COMMENTS LAST CHAPTER I LOVE YOU. The feeback was amazing and I can't express how much I loved it! I'd love to hear more from y'all on this AND QUICK NOTE—this chapter is a bit on the short side, but I plan on doing back to back updates from here.

#35 on Friday, #36 on Saturday, and #37 on Sunday.

Thanks again for reading, babes.

Chapter #35:

Fight Because You Don't Know How to Die Quietly

"I knew that I was dying

Something in me said,

Go ahead, die, sleep, become as

Them, accept.

Then something else in me said, no,

Save the tiniest bit.

It needn't be much.

Just a spark.

A spark can set a whole forest on fire.

Just a spark.

Save it."

—Charles Bukowski

Blood. I was losing too much blood. The drugs were still making my heart race, and that was pushing out blood faster than normal. My entire lower body was coated in a shine of red, blood pooling under me as I leaned my back against the couch, and I couldn't see the gold of my gauntlets. They were just red. My braided bracelets soaked with the color. Just red.

Red. Red. Red.

Fingers snapped in front of my face and the ringing in my ears was replaced with sound.

"Look at you." Boss laughed cruelly. "Drugged up. Beaten. Bleeding. Oh, pet, you've fallen so far." My eyes drifted past his pinched, amused features to see Angela standing behind his shoulder. She was frowning. Crying? I opened my mouth, but only a whimper came out. Boss glanced at her then back to me, "Right. Betrayal is sharp, isn't it? Paying off the SHIELD agents in California watching me was easy, hunkering down in the closest ring to where you lived was also easy, but getting you to come? I waited and waited, but you never showed up."

"I—" I gasped.

"Luckily, I know you, pet." Boss grinned, his eyes void of anything other than enjoyment and thrill. "I knew you'd do anything for the people you consider a friend."

Angela stepped forward, shaking her head, "I'm sorry. I had to. I had no choice. The deal was too good."

"Amber." I breathed. Talking made my gut ache. Was that normal? I shook my head, "Mj. Amber and Mj…How could you… They love you."

"You took care of them for me, and I'm so thankful." Angela replied. "But Boss offered me a spot in the new ring he's creating. I can't make a name for myself in the real world. I need the ring."

"Angela…"

She shook her head and stepped back, "That's not my name."

"Angela, please, you don't—"

"That's not my name!" She snapped. "I am Hammerhead. You just don't get it, okay?" She sounded desperate. Like she was trying to convince herself more than me. "If our roles were reversed you would've done the same thing, Small Fry."

"My name… My name is Aj." I said softly, more disappointed than angry. I shook my head at her, "And I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have."

Angela stumbled back like I had hit her, and I watched as her face twisted into horror. Boss snapped a curse at her. He shoved the gun he had shot me with into her hands and came closer to me. I tried to get Angela to meet my eyes, to do something with the weapon in hand, but she just continued to backpedal away staring at the floor.

"You're dying." Boss' voice made me look back to him. He was knelt down in my space. One foot resting between my legs, and his kneeling thigh pressed against the outside of my left one. Blood was soaking into his slacks, they had to be, but he didn't even seem phased.

Boss pulled the black glove on his right hand off and reached out to cup my face. His fingers caressed me in a loving manner, and I felt warm tears begin to fall down my face. He made a cooing noise and wiped the tears away affectionately. I tried to pull away, but my body was too weak to shove him off and his grip was too tight. With a gasp, I pushed my words out, "Why? Why won't you leave me alone? Why won't you just let me leave?"

"Oh, pet." He clicked his tongue and traced my features with his fingers again, "You belong to me. How many times do I have to teach you this lesson?" Boss smirked and his thumb pressed against my lower lip. "Lucky for you, I am the forgiving type."

He leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine. He left his right hand on my face as his left brushed against every inch of exposed skin below my neck. I felt ill. I felt absolutely disturbed. The sickening feeling of revolt was louder than the crash from all those drugs in my veins. It was louder than the actively bleeding bullet wound in my gut.

"How about our usual deal?" Boss whispered. I closed my eyes and tried to find that little place in my head that I used to hide in. The feel of his lips brushing against my cheek was the straw that broke the camel's back. A shuddering sob tumbled from my lips as Boss continued to whisper words to me. I didn't want to be here. I couldn't even hide like I used to. I was too here. I was too present. Boss licked the side of my face and I sobbed harder, but he only chuckled in response, "Do you know how long I've waited for this moment? Waited for you to break?"

I opened my eyes and he leaned back to stare into my eyes. He looked so happy to see me so hurt. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning staring at the big present hiding under the tree. He smirked, his thumb tracing my lower lip, "Do it. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who owns you and I'll save you. I'll make sure you don't bleed to death."

And for a second, I considered it. 34 times he asked me this question. Boss would hold a knife to my skin and ask me who I belonged to. He'd tell me to show him who owned me, prove it, and he wouldn't carve up my pretty skin as punishment. And, 34 times, I said no. I never hesitated. I'd spit at him, tell him to fuck off, and let him drag his knife into my flesh with teeth clenched so he wouldn't hear my pain.

But this time? I wanted to give in. I wanted to say whatever I needed to say, do whatever I needed to do, in order to live. Every inch of my skin was on fire, every heartbeat hurt, every breath was agony, and despite the fire bristling on the surface on my skin, there was something deep in my gut that felt cold. A deep, endless cold and it was creeping through my soul. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to die.

"Pet…" He murmured and leaned in even closer. I could feel his hot breath against my skin. Boss pressed his lips to my hairline. It was the same spot Bucky kissed me good-bye. It was the spot where Steve kissed me before walking away to fight Ultron. The last time I had touched him. Boss trailed more soft kisses down the side of my face. "Tell me who owns you."

I lifted my left hand and set it on the center of his chest. He smirked and I let my lips curl up in a small smile of my own. I extended my wrist against his chest and the repulsor fired loudly. Boss screamed as his entire body flew across the room and hit the ground hard. I let my hand drop and spat my next words out, "I guess I mean it literally this time when I say I'd rather die."

Boss let out a guttural scream of rage as he shakily pushed himself up from the ground. His hair unkempt from the fall and his eyes wild with a crazed, uncontrollable anger. He clutched his chest, still trying to catch his breath, and I forced a smirk on my face. I didn't feel like smirking, far from it, but I wasn't going to die with him thinking he had won.

"You stupid bitch!" He roared and snatched the gun from Angela's shaking hands. He pointed it straight at me and I closed my eyes waiting to die. My last thoughts were a string of apologies to people I loved and that seemed like a fitting last thought for me. Boss pulled the trigger but each time he did all I heard was the clicking of an empty barrel. My eyes snapped open in shock. Boss screamed again and threw the gun aside before storming over to me. His hands gripped my throat and I gasped though no air filled my lungs. My hands shot up to grab his, but I was too weak to do anything other than choke. "The trouble you bring me has never been worth it. I should've killed you years ago."

I clawed at his hands, my vision going black, and Boss surprised me by throwing me to the side. My body hit the floor, pain shattering me, but I just laid there trying to take in as much air as I could.

"This is better." Boss growled and flipped me over to stare down at me. He lifted his foot and slowly pressed it against my wound. A howling scream of pain tore through me, "I know your worst fear. Dying alone with no one to love you, no one to mourn you." He spat at me. Boss lifted his foot and brought his heel down again. My vision went black for a second. Boss leaned down to sneer at me, "Well, that is exactly what is going to happen. I'm going to leave you here to bleed to death alone. It will be cold and desolate as you slip away to hell. Forgotten forever, no mark left on this world, a blight that no human will waste any effort to grieve."

"Hell will look like heaven compared to any time I spent with you." I said between clenched teeth.

Boss spat on me and turned sharply on his heel to leave. Angela trailed after him, I could hear them go, and then it was quiet. It was too quiet. All I could hear was the sound of my own heart beating in my ears. I prayed. I prayed for this to end quickly. Please. If I was going to die don't let me lie here in pained suspense. God, please.

I laid in my blood and waited.

Natasha had only been in the Playground once before and it was a long, long time ago. In fact, it was before Coulson had made it SHIELD's main headquarters. She followed behind Daisy, Kate, and Clint down the halls with Coulson matching her stride.

"How was Kate been?" Natasha questioned, nodding her head toward her.

"Good." Coulson nodded. "She's a great addition to the team. She's been a huge help tracking down the missing inhumans." He motioned toward her with the prosthetic arm Tony had built him. The only thing giving it away being the silver bar wrapped around his mid forearm where it connected. "Unless you need her for your team."

Natasha smirked, "I think we have our hands full with our own archer." At her words Kate shoved Clint ahead of them and he crashed into a cart of spare parts scattering them around the hall. She looked to Coulson again, "In fact, if you want another archer we have one to spare."

"I aged out of babysitting Barton a long time ago." Coulson chuckled.

Clint whipped around, "I heard all of that, you asshats."

"We have someone we want you to meet. Her name is Star." Daisy said.

"Who is Star?" Natasha questioned skeptically. Daisy grinned and took a turn down a different hall. The group followed until they got to a small bedroom. Daisy stopped outside the door, Kate leaned against the wall in front of the doorway, and both of them motioned for them to enter without them.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, and Coulson was the one to answer, "Small space. She doesn't like crowds."

Clint was the one to open the door, and Natasha stepped past him into the room. Jemma, who was sitting on a small bed, looked up at their entrance and smiled. She stood to greet them, but Natasha glanced at the small girl sitting on the floor. She couldn't be older than seven with a head of thick, black corkscrew curls. The girl, Star, didn't look up to greet them. She just continued drawing with a black crayon. Curled up beside her was Lucky laying on his side with his tongue hanging out.

"I was wondering where you hid my dog." Clint chuckled. He whistled once and Lucky lifted his head, stared at Clint, then lied back down and licked the little girl's knee. Clint scoffed and mumbled, "Traitor."

"Star, do you wanna meet some of my friends?" Jemma knelt down beside her. The girl's hand froze, but still she didn't look up. Natasha glanced at Clint who met her stare with a shrug. Star whispered something she didn't catch, but Jemma heard it and nodded with a bright smile, "No! They're nothing like the people who had you. They're very, very nice. I've known them a long time and I trust them."

There was a brief pause before the girl looked up. Her heart shaped face a few shades lighter than her hair, but the feature that stood out were her large, glowing golden eyes. The little girl was inhuman or otherworldly. That much was very obvious. She held out her hand, not saying a word, and Jemma gave her a nod of encouragement. Natasha knelt down and held out of her hand. Star set hers on her palm and Natasha watched in surprise as the girl's eyes flashed a shade of green that matched her own. The color faded back to normal and Star went back to coloring.

Coulson cleared his throat and Natasha stood back up slowly. Clint took her by the elbow, and they backpedaled out of the room as Jemma and Lucky stayed in their spots. When they got back into the hallway, Clint let out a low whistle, "So, uh, where'd you find your new friend, Coulson?"

"She was being held captive by a group of people collecting inhumans."

"So, she is inhuman?" Natasha pressed.

Daisy shook her head, "We think she's Asgardian."

Clint narrowed his eyes skeptically, "An Asgardian named Star? That's a stripper name."

Kate slammed her elbow into his gut, and he doubled over with a grunt. No one else blinked an eye at the movement. Daisy continued to address Natasha with a shrug, "She won't talk to us. When you look in her eyes long enough though you start to… Well, I don't know, you see stars? I know that sounds crazy, but it's like the kid has the universe in her eyes."

"We've heard crazier." Natasha hummed.

"She's partly why we called you here." Coulson chimed in. "We're hoping you could get in touch with Thor for us? We're looking to get the girl a ride home before they come for her again."

"Why—" Clint began to ask, but Kate shrugged, and he flinched at the movement in suspicion. Ignoring him, she explained, "She can see the future. She draws it."

Natasha and Clint glanced at one another again curiously. Coulson motioned for them to follow him back out into the main hallway, "We haven't figured out the exact process yet. It's less exact future and more cause of change? She drew Lincoln fighting a hooded figure, something none of us were even there for, but because Lincoln lost that fight the hooded figure was able to get to and attack Mac and Fitzsimmons."

"Star knows the path my future will eventually take?" Natasha asked, mildly disturbed.

"Sort of?" Daisy replied. "She knows events that will put you on that path. We think. Like Coulson said we kind of have no idea what's going on..."

Clint clasped his hands together, "So, lotto numbers are out of the question?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, "Again, you're friends with a billionaire and you don't have to pay rent."

"Yeah, but I wanna be able to say I won the lottery, Tash." Clint grumbled.

They made their way to Coulson's office and found various seating around the room. Coulson sat at the edge of his desk, Daisy and Kate dropped down onto a couch, Clint perched himself on the windowsill, and she chose to stand. As it turns out, Fury got caught up with something on the other side of the country which meant they hadn't been late at all. Clint was never gonna let Fury forget that he beat him to a meeting. Natasha was actually already tired of hearing the jokes and he hadn't even started yet.

"Where's May?" Clint glanced around as if she was going to be hiding behind a potted plant or filing cabinet.

"Out with Hunter and Bobbi." Coulson replied and grabbed a remote to activate the projector sending a variety of screens against the wall behind his desk. It was pictures of missing inhumans, last known locations, and any tracking they had done so far.

"They're always so busy." Clint said.

"Unlike the Avengers, we work year round." Daisy joked, and Clint stuck his tongue out at her.

"Why don't you just catch us up to speed now, Coulson?" Natasha asked. Coulson shrugged and began to explain what they were having issues with. Apparently, a group labeled ATCU, for Advanced Threat Containment Unit, was founded by the president in order to round up and keep track of the new influx of inhumans. Problem was they didn't understand the inhuman process or that becoming inhuman didn't automatically dictate whether or not they deserved life in prison. So far, Coulson and his men were just trying to get as many inhumans as they could and put them in hiding from the ATCU. What they needed help with was breaking into the main facility to free the ones that had already been imprisoned.

The process wasn't faultless, and they needed to screen the inhumans before giving them a life in SHIELD protective services. Power didn't affect everyone the same way, and there were bad people who only became worse when they suddenly received powers of a god.

"Okay we kick down ATCU's doors, and then what?" Clint shrugged. "The crowd gets shuffled to the nearest inhuman therapist to determine whether or not they're homicidal?"

Daisy stood up with a frown, "Those inhumans are being kept in cages! We can't leave them there!"

Clint held his hands up in surrender, turning to face her directly, "I know, I know. I'm not suggesting we abandon them, Daisy, but we gotta look at this from all angles. What happens if we free all of them, a crazy one gets loose, and then they decimate a city?"

Daisy crossed her arms, "I understand that too, but—"

"Coulson!" Jemma's voice yelled from down the hall. They all jumped up just as Jemma burst into the room with a paper in hand.

"Is Star alright?" Kate questioned, half ready to run out of the room.

"She's fine—she—she—" Jemma shook her head, breathless, "She drew this." Jemma shakily held up the paper and Natasha took a step to look at it closer. The white paper was covered mostly in red crayon, but at the center was a poorly drawn person with a bullet wound on their exposed stomach. Dark hair, blue eyes, sports bra and shorts, and a set of very, very familiar gauntlets. "Isn't that—Isn't that Aj?"

Steve stood in the quinjet running the practice mission ops from there while Sam was out in the field with Pietro and Wanda. He listened to them over comms, but his mind was a million miles away.

"Steve. Did you hear me?"

He looked up from the ground, arms still crossed, and met Vision's gaze, "Sorry. What?"

"I asked if you were alright?" Vision repeated himself.

It had taken him some time to get used to hearing JARVIS' voice from the man, but that faded over time. Steve took a moment to register the question and nodded once, "I am. Thanks." He lifted a hand to his earpiece. "Sam, status."

"Still quiet. Roadrunner has less patience than Clint, which I didn't think was humanly possible, but—"

"I don't like that nickname. I told you. Call me Quicksilver. Quicksilver." Pietro's accented voice came over the line and it was followed by a groan from both his sister and Sam. Steve chuckled to himself, but something still felt off.

Steve stepped off to the side and scooped up his cellphone. Sam was talking over the comm, but it sounded like he was giving orders to the twins. He flipped the phone over and took apart the extra strength case that Tony had provided him. When the back panel was off, he let the folded piece of paper fall out onto his hand. With the amount of times it had been unfolded and folded up again the paper itself was worn and fragile.

He unfolded it for probably the hundredth time and stared down at the simple words.

'I'm sorry. I wish I deserved you in my life.'

Aj's familiar, sprawling handwriting stared up at him. He closed his eyes and took in a steadying breath. After a second, he turned back around, sliding the paper back into his phone as he walked. Something was wrong. He didn't know what, had no reason to think the thought, but something in him said they needed to go. Steve lifted his finger to the comm unit, "Get back to the quinjet now. Abort."

"Captain?" Vision questioned from beside him with a concerned look. Sam and the others voiced their own worry over the line.

"Something's wrong. We gotta get back to the Compound."

"Aimee."

My eyes blinked open to stare at the plain ceiling. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Years? Maybe this was hell. Just lying here waiting to die. Maybe that's how it worked. You never felt the release of death, you just suffered on the edge of it forever.

"Aimee."

Painfully, I turned my head to the side and the sight of my mother lying beside me didn't even make me flinch. She laid on her side wearing a white dress that was untouched by the bright red blood she laid on top of. Her pretty blonde hair sitting in the same pool of red.

"God, I lost a lot of blood." I mumbled.

"You did." My mom hummed with a sad frown. "Oh, Aimee, you've been through so much, baby. You've been so strong. So, so, strong."

My lower lip quivered, "Mama…"

"You gotta be strong a little longer, baby." She said softly. "You gotta get back up."

"Mama, I don't wanna." I shook my head.

She gave me a tight, reassuring smile, "Yes, you do. I know you do."

"It's gonna hurt."

"It is." My mom nodded. "It's gonna hurt a lot, but you can do it. You have to. You know you have to." She reached forward and pushed a loose strand of hair out of my face. "Get up, Aimee. It's time to get up."

She pushed herself up off the ground and walked away. I called out after her, desperate for her to come back, but she didn't return. Get up. Get up. Get up. I took in two sharp breaths and then rolled over onto my stomach. A cry of pain slipped from me. My lips were pressed against the bloody ground and every sharp exhale sent up a spray of blood.

"Come on, kid. Come on." I lifted my head up, chin resting on the floor, to see Clint lying in the same position across from me. He crossed his arms and rested them under his own chin. Eyes staring me down in a weird mix of support and amusement, "What do you think you're doing, kid? Get the hell up."

I grunted in pain, "Am I gonna get the entire Avengers line-up here? Hallucination edition?"

"If you're lucky enough, maybe." Clint smirked. "And damn, starting with me? You know you're lucky."

"Yeah, I feel really lucky right now." I grumbled and pressed my metal covered knuckles onto the floor. My arms were shaking, hell my entire body was shaking, and I was wondering if it was the drugs or blood loss specifically. There really was no telling.

Clint smirked, "What are you waiting for? Get up, get up, get up, get up, get up, get—"

"Jesus Christ." I groaned and with a roar of pain I pushed myself up off the ground and to my knees. Clint did the same and was clapping as he repeated that same line over and over again. I grunted, "God, I wish I was dead."

"Nah, you don't." Clint snickered.

I bowed my head, breathing heavy, and clasped my arm around my abdomen to try and keep the rest of my blood inside my body. With another scream, through clenched teeth, I pushed up to my feet unsteadily. When I looked up, Clint was gone, and I was sweating buckets. Hell, I could be sweating blood.

"Cестра, start walking." Natasha said from the doorframe she was leaning against. Her arms were crossed, and her gaze was serious and heavy, "This is just like training. Push. Walk. Move. If you stay still, you'll die."

With a scrunched up nose, and teeth clenched so hard together that I thought I could hear them cracking against one another, I took that first step. It was agony. Like someone had lit a fire in my stomach and it was slowly spreading to every other cell in my body. I shuffled toward Natasha who watched me with a careful eye.

"I don't even have an actual fucking plan." I snapped.

"Right now the plan is to live, dumbass." Natasha replied.

"Fair enough." I mumbled and started to drag myself toward her. She egged me on, and the last few steps were just me falling forward and catching myself on the doorframe. Natasha disappeared, and I was leaning against the doorframe trying to get my vision to go from double back to single. Exhausted, I pondered how bad it would be to sink to the floor and die here.

Bruce cleared his throat, and I lifted my gaze to look at him. He was standing in the middle of the hall staring at me in worry and distress. I motioned to him, "You're not even in the continental US last I heard."

"Stop distracting yourself, Aj." Bruce shook his head. "The gunfight is still happening out in the main room. You hear it." Do I? I didn't register that. "That means no one is coming back here for a while. If you stay put, you will die."

"You would be the voice of reason." I mumbled and pushed off the door frame.

This hall looked like the other hall that looked like that other hall. At this point, I was following my death/drug induced hallucinations. They seemed to know more than I did at this point. Plus, at least this way I wasn't alone. At least, I had tricked myself into thinking wasn't.

I kept one hand around my abdomen and the other on the wall and sort of did this half limp, half dragging my feet, towards where Bruce was. Every time I got a step closer, he'd just take a step back. Bruce did this again and again until he was at the mouth of the hallway.

"I love you a ton, Bruce, but if you take another step away from me…" I panted, "I'm gonna bleed on you or something." Bruce disappeared around the corner with a small smile. I'm dying. I'm dying, and my broken brain was torturing me. Actually, if I thought about that for longer than a second I realized it was pretty fitting for me. I finally managed to reach the corner and Sam was there waiting for me around the wall. I narrowed my eyes at him, "You aren't even technically an Avenger."

"How are you gonna hurt my feelings while I'm in your subconscious?"

"Cut me some slack…I'm…" It was getting harder to even talk to myself. "You know the rest."

Sam came to stand beside me and pointed ahead of us, "You're close."

Close to what?! God, what the hell was I doing? I wanted to just take a long nap, but I suppose if I took a break to do that it'd be the forever kind of nap. Was the voice in my head trying to find a cooler place for me to croak?

"Of course, not. This is important." Sam replied.

"I didn't even say that out loud." I grumbled and paused to lean against the wall.

"Is any of this being said aloud?" Sam shrugged. "Or is it all some internal battle?"

I must have talked to Sam a lot because I had his therapist voice down perfectly. My arm pressed against my abdomen and I groaned in pain. My entire abdomen was tense. Hard as a rock. That was a bad, bad sign.

"I believe you Midgardians call it 'acute abdomen'." I blinked up to see Thor had replaced Sam to give me my diagnosis. He gave me a broad smile and thumbs up, "It's a sign that all your internal bleeding is irritating the membranes of your organs."

I shook my head, "Maybe you and Bruce should've talked this out and swapped places, man."

"Little warrior", Thor stepped away from me and motioned for me to follow, "The battle is not over."

Bummer. I followed after the Asgardian feeling like I was on the verge of passing out. Thor stopped in front of a doorway and nodded his head inside of it. I stopped at the mouth of it and looked down at a set of dark stairs. Dear Lord, I hated my subconscious more than I hated my conscious. I glanced from the stairs then back to Thor, then the stairs, then to Thor again. He just nodded.

My brain hadn't been taking me to get help like I thought. It hadn't brought me to safety. Something deep in my subconscious said that coming here was more important in this moment than finding someone to drive me to a hospital. I stared down the dark stairs in thought. Why was this so important to me? I looked back to Thor, but he was gone. Still, I heard voices. Were they real voices or just in my head voices?

I closed my eyes, took a second to resist the urge to just collapse, and then began my unsteady passage down the stairs. They led to another door, this one shut, and I was sure the voices were coming from behind it. There was a cry of pain, and it wasn't mine.

Suddenly, I knew. I knew what I came here for.

I knew because Boss didn't make deals.

With clenched teeth, I grabbed the doorknob and fell into it making the door swing open loudly as I stumbled in. It was just a small room and long tunnel, but in front of me stood Boss with his hands around Angela's neck. He dropped her, she crumpled to the ground gasping for air, and then he stared at me like he had seen a ghost.

Maybe that's what I was.

"You just don't know how to die, do you?" Boss asked slowly, more in disbelief than anger.

"It's not one of my strengths, no." I said breathless.

"Small Fry—" Angela gasped, "Knife—he has—knife!"

Boss reached into his suit jacket to pull out a large pocketknife and then everything started to move in slow motion. He was coming toward me, anger rising on his features, and I just watched. His grip on the knife was tight. This was going to hurt. God, this was going to hurt, but I just needed a moment.

One moment, one last fight.

Time snapped back and I moved. Boss jabbed at me with the knife, and I grabbed the back of his wrist with my left hand. In a swift motion that made every inch of my body scream, I yanked his left wrist forward, kicked my shin directly into his groin, and then with my right hand on the other side of his hand holding the knife I shoved his arm forward as hard as I could. He let out a cry of agony and the sound of his wrist snapping made me smile despite the pain I felt.

The knife hit the floor and I let go of his hand to scramble for it. Hitting the ground hurt but feeling Boss land on top of me made my entire body shut down for a second. When the world came back into focus I realized Boss had his elbow wrapped around my neck and his other hand tangled in my hair as he tried to break my neck.

"Get the hell off her!" Angela yelled. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I heard Boss cry out and suddenly he was off me. It was only adrenaline that let me grab the knife in my hands and turn around. The moment I managed to shakily rise to my feet, I was tackled by Boss. We both slammed into the ground hard.

I landed on my back, Boss landed on top of me, and we both let out a cry of pain. The force had knocked me out, but only for a second. In a daze, my eyes fluttered open and I gasped when my gaze met his. He stared down at me in disdain, but I watched as the disdain melted into pain that melted into nothing until there was no light behind his eyes. I turned my head to the side as he slumped over on me, his head falling onto my shoulder.

Desperate to get him off me, I pawed at him, but it was to no avail. I was too weak, and he was too heavy. I began to cry and tried to push harder.

"I got you!" With a grunt from someone else, the weight was off me. I gasped, sucking in air, and rolled to my side. Beside me, Boss was lying dead on his back. The knife that had been in my hands when we fell was now impaled into the left side of his chest.

When I lifted my gaze elsewhere, I noticed that Angela was talking to me. She was panicking, and she motioned to me once before disappearing. I glanced over at Boss again and closed my eyes. God, this was worse. This was a worse place to die. I rolled over onto my back, but I could still see him in my peripherals. I bit back a sob, shut my eyes tight preparing for more pain, and then rolled again so I was lying on my right side rather than the left. When my eyes opened, they landed on Steve. He was lying on his side, so close that our chests were nearly touching, and stared at me with a softness I hadn't seen in such a long time. This was another hallucination. I knew that. I knew that, but the longer I stared at him the more I seemed to forget.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry—"

"I know." He said softly. Steve reached out and set his hand on my face. His thumb caressed my cheek. "It's okay. You did so good. You were so strong. I'm so proud of you."

I tried to focus on the weight of his hand on my face, but it was hard to feel. Feather light if there at all. I craved heat. Steve was always so warm, like a space heater, but I couldn't feel any of it right now. There was no warmth in his touch. There was no warmth anywhere. Everything was cold and staring at Steve wasn't helping. Despite being so close, he was still too far away. I still felt alone.

"Please don't leave." I begged desperately.

Steve leaned his head forward so his forehead rested on mine, "Never, baby."

Tony had told Barnes that staying on the quinjet was probably his best bet, but the man wouldn't have it and he didn't have time to argue. He would've reacted the same way if someone told him to stay on the jet right now. Hell, Tony would tell them to fuck off and maybe throw some punches. At least, Barnes was polite about it.

As it turned out, letting Barnes come had been useful. When the police had burst in, they started a gunfight with whatever small time drug dealers that had taken up base here. They were bunkered down and trying to peel them out was taking way too damn long.

Maybe it was a bad idea to leave Barnes behind to deal with the fight that blocked them off. Maybe it was a bad idea to sprint through the line of fire to get to a hallway where he was only half sure that Aj was. The issue was that bad ideas were all Tony had left.

He ducked under a spray of bullets that sent concrete dust into the air and ducked into the hallway. Tony sprinted down the first hall, took a sharp right, then kept running. The tracker's signal on his phone told him the general vicinity of where Aj was but he didn't have a map of these halls.

"Help!"

Tony felt his heart stop as Amber Jones turned a corner. Her clothes were covered in blood and she had various injuries that he couldn't account for. It couldn't be Amber. It was the other one. She sprinted forward and grabbed at his shirt, "Help! She needs help!"

"Where is she?!" Tony roared and Amber's twin stuttered out instructions. He pushed her back, "Get to first hallway and wait for the medics! Bring them to where she is when you see them!"

Tony didn't wait for confirmation. He was sprinting. Amber's twin had been covered in so much blood, and as he raced through the halls he couldn't ignore the bloody handprints on the wall and the trail of it leading him forward. With every single step he pleaded with the universe for the blood to belong to someone else. Please, please, please— He found the stairs. Tony didn't need the twin's directions. He could follow the blood. He raced down them two at a time, and when he hit the doorway his feet froze.

Red. God, so much red. The entire floor was just covered in it. Two bodies laid motionless. One on their back, the other on their side facing away from the first.

"Aj?" Tony couldn't breathe. He recognized that small frame laying in a too large pool of blood. "Aj!"

He rushed forward, sliding to his knees, and flipped her over onto her back. She was pale. The skin that wasn't stained with blood was too fucking pale. Eyes sunken and so dark that her pretty face nearly looked like a skull. A bullet wound on the left side of her gut. Tony felt her neck for a pulse, finding a faint one, then cupped her face.

"Please, come on, come on." Tony begged. "Come on, Aj. Wake up. Wake up. You gotta—Aj! Come on!"

Her eyes fluttered open slowly but remained unfocused. That familiar shade of ice blue could barely be seen with how much her eyes were dilated. Aj blinked once, and her gaze met his. She opened her mouth, voice raspy and weak, "We gotta…We gotta stop running into each other…like—like this."

Tony let out a laugh of relief, but it was short lived. They weren't out of the woods yet. In fact, they were really fucking deep into this dark, awful forest. Tony sucked in a sharp breath, "Hey, sunshine. Hey. I need you to stay awake, okay? Help is on its way."

"I can feel your hands." Aj said softly, he could barely hear her. "They're warm."

"Focus on that, okay? Stay awake." Tony lifted his head to the door and yelled, "Help! In here, help!" He glanced back down at her, "Keep talking, Aj. I need you to talk to me."

Aj's eyes seemed dim, blank, "I'm sorry."

Tony felt his entire chest ache at her apology, "Don't—Don't. It was me. It wasn't you. It was me. I'm—" This was his fault. He should've gone to her ages ago. He shouldn't have been so stubborn. He had been so scared that she wouldn't forgive him. Tony had been terrified to see hate in her eyes, and now because of him she was dying. God, she couldn't. Her eyes closed and he shook her, "Hey! Hey, no, Aj!"

She was dying and the last thing he said to her was that her family chose to leave her.

"Please, please, no, come on, Aj. Come on!" Tony yelled and shook her harder. Footsteps made him look up in hope, but it was only Bucky. He stood at the doorway with a look of horror on his face. "Where the fuck are they!?" Tony screamed in desperation. He glanced down at Aj one more time then forced himself to stand. "Stay with her!"

Bucky felt Tony shove past him, back up the stairs, and that was the motion he needed to snap him back to reality. He stumbled to where she laid and collapsed onto his knees. He was too late. He was too damn late. Bucky pulled the hair plastered to her face with blood back, and the movement made her eyes slowly open.

He sucked in a sharp breath while Aj just stared up at him. Bucky had been here before. He was sick and tired of kneeling over her broken, bleeding body. He was so sick and tired of seeing her in pain—of seeing her blood. Bucky bit back his horror, pasted a smile on his lips, and cupped her face with his left hand, "Hey, doll."

Aj's lips parted, but it took a moment for her to speak, "Are you really here?"

"Y—Yeah." He leaned over her and used his right hand to push more hair from her features. Even when her face was clear, he kept brushing his hand over her skin. She felt cold, soaked with sweat, and his hand was already red with blood. Her lips briefly twitched up into a semblance of a smile, but it was gone just as quick. Bucky shook his head, "I'm here. And I need you to stay here with me. Please. Please, doll."

She closed her eyes than spoke again, a whisper, "Sorry, I broke my promise."

Bucky never should've asked her to promise her safety. He should've stayed near her and ensured it himself. Bucky pressed his lips together and hung his head. He could hear her heart beating, but it was way too slow. Way too slow, and way too soft. Bucky forced his head back up to look at her, "I got your voicemails. I should've—I should've answered the phone. I shouldn't have left you. I'm sorry, doll. God, I'm so sorry."

Aj was still looking at him, but her gaze seemed shallow. Distant. A tear rolled from the corner of her eyes and Bucky quickly swiped them away. She took a shaky breath, the loudest he had heard from her so far, and then cried out in a voice that cracked with despair and fear, "I don't wanna die." Bucky felt the air get knocked out of his lungs. He could hear yelling down the halls. They were close. They were so close. "I don't… I don't wanna die."

"You're not going to die. Not here. Not today." Bucky said firmly. The first thing she had ever said to him was that she didn't want to die. He wouldn't let it be the last. "They're almost here. Hang on. Just hang on, please. Hang on. Doll…"

"Please don't leave, Toska." Aj sobbed. "I wanna go with you."

Bucky opened his mouth to speak, but he found no words. His watering eyes searched her face for an answer, for a sign, but her own eyes drifted closed and suddenly he couldn't hear her heart. He couldn't hear her heart. Stark burst back into the room followed close by medics, and Bucky stumbled back, out of the way, while the two medics worked with a flurry of motions. Stark was yelling, one of them was pushing down on her chest repeatedly, and the other struggled to prick her arm with a large needle.

Bucky was frozen though. Unmoving.

He couldn't hear her heart.

Aj was his light at the end of his tunnel, the anchor that kept him grounded, and he couldn't hear her goddamn heart.