Including some music used for inspiration lately:

Glitter and Gold / Barns Courtney

No Time to Die / Billie Eilish

Wish You Were Here / Brian Tyler

Lee was staring forward at the door of the plane, his back against the wall and one arm hanging limp over one raised knee. He had soot smudged along his face and head, and his knuckles were bloody from what little hand-to-hand he had ended up in. His ears were ringing still, however distantly, and his jaw twitched as his thoughts rambled on in his head. It seemed to be nonstop. He kept retracing his steps for the last few days, wondering just how he had ended up there in that exact spot. How he had gone from almost happy, almost retiring, almost secure, to... to whatever this was. It felt like a whole lot of nothing. It felt like loss.

Angel was watching him from across the plane. She'd changed out of her dress and into whatever the guys had around; Yang was the smallest, so she borrowed a pair of his baggy black cargo pants and an old threadbare henley. She'd taken off her prosthetic for a moment and tried to stretch out her leg, which was sore and screaming at her to rest. She didn't want anyone to notice the paint she was in, though. She imaged that Lee was thinking the same thing at the moment, but he was clearly failing at it. He was wearing his emotions as clear as day all over his face, in his hands, and he breathed it in and out with every heavy breath. She could feel the tension wafting off of him like a foul odor. She swallowed.

"They'll find her," she said, her voice bouncing off the walls around them. He blinked a few times and looked over at her sitting on the bench, one pant leg hanging limp down to the ground while the other was cuffed up around her ankle.

"Whatever this is," he said, breathing over his words before huffing out a heavy sigh, "it's a lot more complicated than we thought."

Angel pressed her lips together and let her eyes fall to the ground between them. She wasn't sure what she could offer him that he didn't already have. She wanted to give him something, anything, but she knew that what he needed most probably wasn't going to be so easy to find.

"Just because it's more complicated now doesn't mean it's a lost cause, it just means we have to work a little harder," she tried.

Lee didn't acknowledge it, but a tear slipped from his eyes and caught the light. Angel saw it, but she didn't make a fuss over it. She just watched him. How many times had he been so close to losing Sammy? How many times could one person take being on the edge without knowing if they would fall or fly? Like a tightrope walker losing their balance, the bar stretched out to either side in their hands, wobbling as the rope began to tremble.

She looked down at her legs and chewed on her lip, tufts of straight black hair falling down over her face, a curtain between her and Lee to give him privacy and permission to feel his emotions. She massaged her bad thigh, working it so the knots and cramps would loosen and she could join them all back in the field if they needed her. Maybe she had been right before, though; maybe this was it for her. Maybe she was just pushing off the inevitable. Maybe she had fallen off her tightrope a long time ago, and now she was just flapping her arms and trying to convince herself she had the power to fly.

—-

Bones was leaning against the outside of the plane and sipping water from a canteen they had been passing around since returning from the hacienda. She could see the outline of Bee's head where she was locked up in the truck, her hair damp and pushed behind her ears. She was looking down and hadn't moved since they put her in there.

Toll was leaning next to her with Caesar on his other side. Everyone else was scattered around, all except for Barney, Cap, and the big guy that had shown up and saved their asses. They had gone back to see if they could find Sammy. Nobody had an update on that yet. It was weighing on them all.

"You know," Toll said, taking the canteen and swirling it in front of himself, "my analyst told me once that when traumatic things happen, we act on instinct. You know, fight or flight."

Caesar let out a breathy laugh and turned his head up to look at the sky where the sun was beginning to set over the jungle. Bones looked over at Toll, his face dripping in sweat and set in a hardy grimace.

"Sure," she said eventually. "Fight or flight."

He shrugged and downed a gulp of the water before he passed it on to Caesar.

"As soldiers, we're taught to ignore that instinct. We're taught to fight," he continued, stuffing his hands down into his pockets. "Sammy, though? She's not a soldier."

Bones watched him carefully, thoughtfully.

"You think she might've run?" She asked.

He shrugged again, "I don't know. I'm just saying things. I don't know how else… how else to help."

Bones nodded and turned her head forward. She could tell he felt helpless- she did, too. They all did.

"Sammy is one strong kid. I know it, you know it, we all know it," Caesar said. He took a breath and then pushed himself up off the wall. "I've been saying it. She won't give up."

"This Stonebanks man sounds like bad news, though," Toll added with a shake of his head. "Barney didn't even know he was alive until today. That's as close to a ghost as you'll ever get to see. If he goes underground and he has her…"

"Then maybe she'll run," Bones said, folding her arms over her chest and taking a few steps away from them before she turned to face them. She kept walking backwards. "Hopefully she'll run."

—-

Cap pulled the binoculars down from her eyes and grimaced. Most people had fled the hacienda after the blow up, but a few straggling staff members remained and fumbled around. The smoke had mostly cleared, and from what she could see, there was nothing left except for a few bodies on the ground. None of them looked like Sammy.

"All I'm asking is what job you were working that you were in Mexico at the same spot where we found the Major and Stonebanks," Barney said, impatient.

"It's a secret," Trench said, hands mounted on his hips. He seemed amused. His lips turned up at the corners and his eyes wrinkled at the edges.

"A secret? The man is dead. We don't-"

"Alright, lovebirds," Cap said, tossing the binoculars to Barney's chest and walking out of the brush they were using as cover. "Cost is clear. Let's go."

Barney glared at Trench one last time before he followed. Trench chuckled.

"You're welcome," he said, following behind them both.

Cap focused on the body she wanted evidence of the most: the Major. She'd seen him get shot, but she needed full proof that he was gone for good. He'd been a thorn in her side for too long to trust what she'd seen from a distance. She needed to know that she was finally free.

Barney focused on the back of her head as they walked. Her hair was messy, especially with the humidity pulling it out at all different angles. He had a sour taste in his mouth about the entire thing, what with Cap helping Sammy and Trench showing up out of nowhere just in time to save them all. He didn't like not having all the information, and he felt like he was missing a much bigger chunk than he had anticipated. He also wished he hadn't stopped and listened to Cap so easily, and instead ran after Stonebanks to finish him off once and for all. Screw the consequences, he figured. He was old enough to retire; not in the vacations and piles of books way, but in the forever way.

They got to the mess of bodies where the fight had broken out and Cap stepped over a few twisted and limp limbs. She was dead set on the first one that had fallen, which was just a few strides in front of her. She could taste freedom all around her, a weight lifting off her shoulders that had been there for far too long. Memories were flooding through her, memories of a life she no longer recognized, and she pressed her lips into a tight line and squeezed her hands into hard fists. She reached down and grabbed him by his hair and yanked him so that his body flopped over, his face turned up to the sky and covered in a thick, coagulated layer of blood and dirt. She reached a hand to his neck and checked for a pulse. She waited longer than she usually would, and there was nothing. She felt her lips begin to tremble.

"Cap?" Barney asked, standing a few feet back as they looked over the carnage. "Something wrong?"

Trench glanced between the two, confused. He didn't say anything and just rested his hands on his hips.

Cap sniffed and pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she held back a cry. After a second she stood and looked down at him, twisted and splayed for the vultures and worms to feast on him. It was what he deserved. Her lips twisted into a trembling snarl beneath her hand. After a second, she let out a strangled cry and kicked him in the gut, his body jolting and falling back without a fight or reaction. She kicked him again, and then again, and one more time after that.

"Cap," Barney tried, taking a few steps closer to her. She didn't falter.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a switch blade and flicked it open, her hand shaking as she pulled it up and drew in a hard breath.

Barney furrowed his brows and hurried to take her wrist in his hand, pulling her back as she tried to lunge forward and bury the blade in the dead man's chest. She fought against him, crying out like a wounded animal, and he wrapped his other arm around her center and pulled her back and away from the Major.

"What is it?" He asked, confused. She let out a few breathless sobs and squeezed the blade hard in her fist. She tried to catch her breath, and Trench watched on, intrigued.

"He's dead," she gasped, leaning forward, only supported by Barneys arms forcing her up. Her fingers loosened around the blade in her hand until it slipped and hit the dirt at her feet. She looked forward at the Major, still unmoving, face lifeless and empty and still. She closed her eyes.

"Yeah," Barney said. "What the hell is wrong with that?"

She shook her head and wiped her hands down her face to clear away the tears and sniffed. Then she turned to him.

"Nothing," she said. "There's nothing wrong about that."

Barney shook his head, still confused.

"He's finally fucking dead," she said, and she looked up at Barney with wet eyes and relief etched into every wrinkle and freckle on her skin. He blinked. He could feel the weight being lifted off of her, even if he couldn't fully understand why it had been there to begin with. She looked lighter. There was less of a shadow over her face.

"Yeah," Barney said, swallowing over a lump in his throat. He thought back to when he had thought Stonebanks was dead and felt nauseous. He let Cap go.

She watched as he pulled out a gun and clicked off the safety and aimed it down at the Major's unmoving chest. Before she could react, he emptied his clip into the corpse, and then tucked the gun back away. He let out a breath as well.

"Just some insurance," he said, turning back to her.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth and nodded. Nothing could take away the relief she was feeling. More tears welled in her eyes and she tried to bite them back.

Barney turned and looked over the rest of the small crowd. He didn't see Sammy anywhere. It was a relief, but at the same time, he was also disappointed. She might not have been dead, but that didn't mean he'd still find her alive. Not with Stonebanks.

Cap seemed to understand this, and after a moment, she dropped her hands to her knees and tried to compose herself. Her monster was dead. He wasn't coming back. But that didn't mean the fight was over yet.

Maybe it was just beginning.

—-

Her wrists were worked raw from the plastic zip ties around them. She stretched them absently, her head bouncing against the hard surface of wherever she was. Her vision was dark- she couldn't even tell if her eyes were open or not. There was a sharp pain in her temple, and her ankles felt bound and stiff. She tried to move but her body felt tight- stuck- rigid. There was a bump and she drew in a sharp breath. A car? She tried to focus her hearing down to make out the sound of tires scratching against a road, but her ears still felt clouded from that damn flash bang. She opened her mouth to try and pop her ears, but everything stayed distant and muted. She could feel the vibrations in her body, though. It reminded her of when she would close her eyes on the back of Lee's bike and feel the road all the way from the seat where she sat to his body in front of her, the shaking and rumbling of hard weathered asphalt digging into the ruts of the tires.

She could just barely hear the sounds of an angry conversation; voices raised and heated, a quick and snappy back and forth between maybe two or more people. Were they voices she knew?

She thought back to Barney showing up and raising his gun towards Bee. She was glad he hadn't shot her. She was just confused. The Major must have confused her. If the whole team was there, then maybe she was with them. She couldn't remember what happened after she tried to fight off whoever was grabbing at her. Maybe she hit her head. It was all black and blurry, like a void with just an eclipse worth of light. They hit another bump and she groaned.

If they had found her, then was Lee there? She wanted to explain to him why she had to do it- why she had to run away without his help. She had to tell him that it was just the right thing to do. That had it been her, he would've done the same thing. She thought back to when her and Bee were at training, cheeks sun kissed and pink from exertion, sweat dripping from their hairlines, bunks close enough to whisper when they each couldn't sleep. If it had been one of the Expendables, they would have moved heaven and earth to prove they were alive and get them back. She couldn't help but smile; Bee was alive, and now they all knew it. She had been right all along.

But Bee didn't seem to want to be found. That part had confused her. And the other man that Barney had appeared to know- his face was apart of that blurry void of memory, and his voice was just an echo of a whisper. She hadn't seen Lee at all. She wondered if he saw her.

There was another bump and she grunted again, louder this time. She felt her body begin to roll over until something stopped her- something hard right in her gut. She made a sickening noise, nauseous suddenly, and tried to catch her breath. She still couldn't see, but she was sure her eyes were open. She blinked hard and felt her eyelashes tickle her cheeks.

She pressed her hands, still tied at the wrists, to the floor beneath her and pushed herself up. It was slippery; her skin skidded against the ground with a low deep screech and she caught herself before she could fall face-first. She tried to clear her throat, but it was sore from all the smoke.

Then there was a tugging around her head, and the light poured in so bright and fast that she gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands instinctively reach to shield her face and she fell back down to the floor with a thump, her legs curled in towards her stomach. She tasted a bit of dried blood around her lips.

"Lee…" She tried, blinking away the stagnant brightness until she could make out figures.

There was someone crouched right in front of her, a silhouette against wherever the light was coming from.

"As in Christmas? Lee Christmas?"

There was a scoff. She couldn't place the voice- it wasn't Lee's, because there was no tell-tale accent, and it wasn't Gunner, because he had a bit of lilt, too. She furrowed her brows. She didn't think it was any of the guys, and it was too deep to be any of the women.

"What-" she tried, forcing herself back up as she continued to blink. "Where-"

"Sh, don't ask so many questions," the figure said, leaning just a little bit closer to her. She could smell cologne; it must have been expensive, because it was strong and deeply fragrant. Teakwood maybe? Did it matter?

She felt the tie digging into her wrist. It was sore and sharp and wet. She winced, suddenly aware of the fact that she was bound. The Expendables wouldn't do that. She felt her heart pick up speed in her chest.

"You're my new golden ticket," the figure said, tapping her on the shoulder with something hard and cold- a gun?

"Golden ticket?" She echoed, her vision finally adjusting. She could make out bits of his face now, but he was still shrouded from the light behind him.

"The girl got you to me… and now you will bring me Barney Ross," he said.

She shook her head. "The Major is dead," she tried.

"Oh, of course," he said. "And about time, too, if you ask me. He was a little full of himself. And not very… pragmatic."

"And… Bee-"

"So many questions," he said again. "It's not about her. It never was. She was just… a means to an end. And so are you."

Sammy frowned. She could see him better now, his stubbled jaw and heavy cheeks, his silver hair and deep-set tired eyes.

"Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. We've got a couple hours yet."

He stood and tucked the gun away before walking off. There was another figure behind him, sitting on a bench and looking towards Sammy on the ground. She was still disoriented and confused. She could barely make out which way was left and which was right.

The one thing she could focus on, though, was that bright red hair.