Chapter song: Bridges by Broods

Silvia

Each second passed slower than the next as I fell closer to the pavement. I always believed falling to one's death would be the most peaceful, painless way to go, but now I knew better. The cool, night air whipped through my hair and clothes, making me feel as if I were being hit by thousands of twigs all at once. It was nearly impossible to keep my eyes open against the harsh wind, and even when I did I couldn't see much through the tears. I knew I was only seconds away from before becoming street spaghetti.

Again, I opened my eyes and I immediately regretted it: I was less than three-hundred feet away from the street, and accelerating at a terrifying speed. My human survival instinct kicked into full force, causing me to flail my limbs and scream uselessly in the air. In a last ditch effort I held my arms above my head and straightened them out, imitating every Superman move I had seen in movies. Nothing happened.

I pushed my hands out with more force, screaming in anger. Still, nothing happened. As the white lines of the street became solid and clear I abandoned my foolish attempts to fly. I decided the remaining seconds of my life should be spent wisely, so I began to do what everyone did when they were about to die: I prayed – but I didn't even have enough time for that as I spiraled into a grove of trees.

As a branch struck me painfully in the face, I blindly held my hands out in front of me, refusing to die by impalement. After that, everything became unusually still. If it weren't for the incessant pounding in my ears I would have thought I was dead. Upon opening my eyes I discovered I was very much alive – and floating only a few inches above the ground.

Any closer and my nose would have been rubbing against the grease-stained street. There was a sense of weightlessness throughout my body - mostly in my stomach - which could only be described as feeling like a newly discovered muscle being stretched for the first time. Something had awakened inside of me. After everything that happened to me, this new power shouldn't have been terribly surprising to discover, but I found myself shaking with disbelief. My body tingled with excitement and relief, together forming one of the greatest feelings in the world. I didn't want this wonderful sensation to ever go away.

Unfortunately, there was a cross-dressing psychopath waiting for me on my rooftop. Even the black, midnight sky couldn't hide his silhouette from my sight. He was a shadow in the night, tall and horned, and in that shadow a smile glistened. If I didn't know any better, I would have mistaken him for the Devil.

For only a brief second I considered flying away, but my curiosity stopped me – as well as my desire to punch him in the face. I searched deep within me and found that weightless feeling rooted in my stomach and began pulling on it with everything I have. I shot into the air like a spring, missing my rooftop by several hundred yards. With slow, careful pushes I managed to turn around and lower myself down next to my pool, directly in front of Loki. He stood perfectly still, smiling arrogantly with his hands clasping the scepter behind his back. There was no remorse in his expression, only the usual cockiness.

"What the fuck?" I growled.

He flashed his pearly whites. "I believe the words you're looking for are thank you," he corrected.

My face scrunched up into a scowl. "How did you know I could fly?" I asked.

"I didn't," he replied nonchalantly. "It was a bit of a hunch, really."

I was flying at him with my fist aimed directly at his smug, aristocratic face, unable to hold myself back any longer. Every punch I threw his way met empty air because at the last second he would teleport himself elsewhere, sometimes directly behind me or at my side.

"Oh, come now," he chided, appearing less than a yard away. "You remain perfectly unscathed."

"You could have killed me!" I screamed, missing him once again.

I growled with fury and stopped, spinning around to find where he went. A second later he materialized on the opposite side of the rooftop. My hands were already aiming and glowing before he had the chance to appear. His eyes grew wide as the yellow bursts of light flew his way, hitting him directly in the chest. I smiled with satisfaction as he seemingly dissolved into thin air, but the feeling was short-lived as I heard a faint chuckle behind me. Before I could blink he had me in a chokehold, forcing me to my knees. He was unbelievably strong.

His breath felt cold as he spoke softly into my ear. "Calm down, shh… that's it," he said, his lips grazing the soft flesh of my neck. "You could become something marvelous - a power unparalleled in this universe," he whispered excitedly. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" I once again attempted to break free of his hold, causing him to tighten his grip around me.

"I've given you the gift of flight," he said more loudly. He removed his hand from behind my neck and grabbed ahold of my wrist, holding the artificial hand up for display. "I've given you some semblance of humanity."

I paused at the revelation. So hewas the one who gave me my new hand and foot? My body shook along with his as he chuckled deviously.

"Yes, this is my doing. I've released you from the confines of that Kree's pathetic technology. No more metal limbs. No more meddlesome gloves holding you back. I've given you the one thing you humans crave more than anything else - your freedom," he said, his voice suddenly transforming into one I knew too well.

A cold, sharp chill ran through me, shaking every nerve in my body as Ronan's voice began speaking in my ear.

"Can you say the same for your dear Ronan?" He said, his pale hand now strikingly blue.

He's not Ronan… He's not Ronan…

"What do you want?" I asked, growing more distressed by the second.

Loki loosened his hold around my neck, allowing me to breathe fully once again, while his other hand trailed along my arm and up my bare side. I watched his slow movements, constantly needing to remind myself that he was Loki, not Ronan, and that his beautiful blue skin and alluring voice were only an imitation. Even so, it was hard not to imagine it was Ronan who stood behind me, holding me close.

With his cool, soft cheek pressed against mine, I felt him smile. Goosebumps spread across my skin as one of his long fingers now grazed my collarbone. "I want…" he said slowly, "only to broaden your horizons."

I shook my head. "You want something from me," I said, not believing him.

He continued his soft ministrations along my neckline, humming quietly in thought. "Yes," he said, causing me to stiffen with attention. "Only your consideration," he said amusedly. "Look at what I've taught you in a mere day. Imagine what we can accomplish together in a week, a month… a lifetime," he whispered, pausing for a second. "Under my instruction you will become an unrivaled force, truly untouchable." I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until his hand came to rest on my stomach, almost tenderly.

The thought of becoming invincible was tempting to say the least. The last few months of my life were proof enough that I needed to become more powerful to ensure I never suffered at the hands of another. Loki was offering me the chance to live without fear, without pain, and he was willing to give it to me at no cost – so he said.

My breath shook with excitement at the idea. "If what you say is true, then that means I'll be stronger than you one day," I said, watching as his hands returned to their normal color.

He pulled me harder against him, causing me to gasp. "What a clever girl you are," he said, no longer sounding like Ronan. I shivered slightly as his ice-cold hands dug into my bare flesh. "But if we're being perfectly honest… you already are."

I attempted to break free of his grip. He barely moved an inch. "It doesn't feel that way," I huffed.

"Your mind is clouded with fear and doubt," he said matter-of-factly. "So long as these exist within you, you will remain weak." I frowned as I recalled Ronan saying something similar to me once. "But that's where I come in," he added lightly.

I peered at him uneasily though the corner of my eye. "How so?" I asked. He released me without warning and I stumbled forward slightly, barely missing the pool.

"I can remove any unwanted memories – for example, those which cause you pain," he said, pausing for emphasis. When he saw my hesitation he stepped forward. "I can restore them at your will, when and if you so wish."

"I still don't understand," I said hesitantly. Loki's smile grew thin. "What are you gaining by helping me?" For a brief second his emerald green eyes appeared to grow darker.

He shook his head slightly and smiled. "You doubt my intentions – "

"Can you blame me?" I asked, not hiding my sarcasm. "The last time I saw you, you ripped a man's eye out," Loki motioned to speak, but I cut him off. "I know I've seen you since then, I just don't remember it," I said begrudgingly, looking at the hand he gave me. "It's not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but you didn't have to erase my memory of it."

"I am not responsible for your memory loss that night," he said, holding up a hand as I tried to speak again. "If you become my protégé, I will answer all of your questions and more. In the meantime," he said, walking backwards. "I suggest you keep my whereabouts unspoken."

"Wait," I said, stepping forward. "If I agree… how will I find you?"

He smiled arrogantly. "Say my name. No, no…," he paused, his smile growing wider. "Scream it."

I rolled my eyes. "How do you know I won't turn you into SHIELD?" I asked, seriously contemplating the idea. All I heard was a harrowing chuckle, followed by a bright, blue flash of light. I was alone once again.

Inside, I grabbed my cell phone where I left it and quickly pulled up Tony's number. My finger seemed to hover over the call button for an eternity. I couldn't bring myself to call him, despite my better judgement telling me it was the right thing to do. He probably won't answer anyways.

The louder, less sensible side of me recalled everything Loki had promised me, and though I knew better than to trust him… I believed him. I didn't want to keep living a life in the shadows, afraid of my own body and what others might do to me. It was true that he taught me more about my powers in a single day than anyone else had, and he wasn't trying to suppress them either. He wasn't afraid of how powerful I might become, unlike Ronan. Still, I knew there had to be a better way than to learn from Loki. He couldn't be trusted.

By the time morning came around, I decided that I couldn't hide this from Tony. That talk would have to wait until tomorrow though because today was my father's election. My parents would inevitably freak out if they knew what was going on, and if my father lost the election I would obviously get blamed for his defeat. They needed to be in pristine condition today because the entire world would be watching them.

Mar-Vell arrived home at the same time as I was leaving. The elevator doors opened to reveal him holding what I assumed to be the mysterious truncheon. It was a short metal stick with a thick brown handle and a square head. If I didn't know any better I would have guessed it was an expensive meat mallet.

He stepped through the doors, looking suspiciously from side to side. "Where is she?" He asked.

"Gone. You were right. She was Loki," I said, watching his eyes grow wide.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked, coming to stand in front of me. I shook my head, not wanting to mention the roof incident. Now was not the time to have that conversation – my parents were probably already downstairs waiting for me.

Mar-Vell gave me a confused look and held out his hands. "Well, what did he want?" He asked.

I licked my lips nervously. "Me," I said quietly. Mar-Vell's brow became creased with concern. "He offered to make me more powerful," I said slowly, aware of Mar-Vell's suspicious eyes. "I told him no, of course," I quickly lied, waving my hand.

Mar-Vell nodded hollowly. "And he just left?" He asked skeptically.

"Yep," I said, looking down at my watch. "My parents will be here any second. I should go wait for them in the lobby," I said, slowly backing away. Mar-Vell glanced uncertainly around the room, apparently at a loss for words. As his expression transformed from confusion to mistrust, the elevator doors were already in the process of closing.

Two of my father's Secret Service agents were waiting for me in the lobby. I quickly made my way to their black SUV and stepped inside, unsurprised to hear my parents bickering with one another. They barely even noticed my arrival as they continued arguing over the color of my father's tie. I cleared my throat to catch their attention and received a dismissive nod from my mother in response. I rolled my eyes and leaned back, already regretting my decision to come – not that I really had a say in the matter.

We arrived at the convention center forty-five minutes later, surprised to find the area already flooded with people. My father's Secret Service escorted us into the building with careful precision, watching for any potential threats. As we passed a group of protestors, one of the agents stood protectively at my side and I tried my best not to smile. My mother shot me a warning glance when she noticed my amusement.

An hour later, my father was giving his speech in front of thousands of people, all cheering and screaming his name with wild enthusiasm. The room was filled with bright flashes of light as thousands of civilians and photographers took their pictures. One particular flash of light caught my attention in a sea of twinkling cameras. It was different than the other lights. Slower and brighter, and it didn't have a direct path of light. It was more of a reflection, shining in different directions as if it were alive and moving. I had seen it before. Mar-Vell had seen it too, and it worried him. I waited for it to appear again, but it never did. My paranoia slowly subsided as I became lost in the excitement around me.

Just looking at the large, passionate crowd, one might assume my father had already won the election. Everyone told me my father would become the next president, but it wasn't until this moment that I actually believed them. My chest swelled with pride as I stood behind him, admiring his cool confidence. All those years of hard work were finally paying off for my parents – this was the moment they had been waiting for.

Thunderous applause filled the auditorium at the end of my father's speech. My cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling and my hands tingled as I tried to keep up with the crowd's applause. It was without a doubt the proudest moment of my life. My father glanced over his shoulder and gave me a wink – his silent way of saying 'I love you.' Not wanting to break tradition, I held my hand up to my mouth to blow him a kiss like I did when I was a child. With my eyes closed and my fingers pressed against my lips, I dramatically waved my hand back into the air – only to feel something wet splatter against my face, causing me to jerk with surprise.

Upon opening my eyes, I found the room had completely transformed in a matter of seconds. The crowd - which had been overwhelmingly happy a moment before - now looked like a terrified pack of mice, all scattering in different directions. If it weren't for my mother's painfully tight grip on my arm, I may not have heard her whimpering among the crowd's terrified screams. Now feeling sick to my stomach, I followed my mother's hollow gaze and found my father lying on the floor in a pool of blood. He had been shot in the head.

I was on the floor, crawling towards him out of instinct. I was vaguely aware of my mother's hands on my shoulders, squeezing desperately as I attempted to find a pulse. There was none. When I looked more closely at his head, I immediately recoiled and screamed. Nearly a quarter of his skull had been blown off, and the floor was covered in his brain tissue. I shook my head, not wanting to believe it was true. He couldn't be dead – he was just standing here, winking at me.

I couldn't seem to look away from him, not even as one of the Secret Service agents dragged me away. My mother and I were being rushed out the back of the building to one of the getaway cars. The commotion of car doors slamming and tires screeching jolted me back into reality, away from the horrifying image of my father's fragmented head. I sat numbly next to my mother who was shaking and whimpering from shock. With wide eyes, she stared straight ahead and held tightly onto my hand with surprising strength. Not knowing what else to do, I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly. My embrace seemed to trigger something inside of her, because at that moment she began to wail.

"Mom," I cried, wishing I could take away her pain.

The car suddenly came to an abrupt stop, causing my mother and I to nearly fall out of our seats.

"What the hell is this?" The driver angrily shouted as he hit the steering wheel.

At the same moment, my eyes were drawn to a reflective wave of light outside the windshield. I watched in amazement as the light travelled upwards from the ground, revealing a pair of legs, followed by a torso and finally the head of a man. The light dissipated as the man's figure became complete. It was a cloaking device. The man was fair-skinned, ridiculously tall, and in his hands was a large weapon I had only seen once before - on Kree-Lar.

"Reverse!" I screamed in terror.

The driver stared at the dashboard in bewilderment. "I can't – the battery is dead," he said, cranking the ignition once again. It didn't even make a sound. I tried opening my car door, but it was locked.

"Unlock the doors!" I ordered.

"Nothing is working," the driver said, now looking terrified himself.

The agent behind me leaned in. "The car is bulletproof – it's safer in here than it is out there."

"No, we need to leave!" I yelled desperately as the Kree's weapon began to glow blue. The agents had no idea what was about to happen to them – and I didn't have time to explain.

I easily kicked my door open, sending it flying across the street into a store window. I glanced back at the Kree just in time to see a blue stream of light heading towards the vehicle. With inhuman speed, I grabbed ahold of my mother and propelled us out of the side of the car as it erupted with fire. The blast of the force sent us spiraling into the air, and even with my enhanced strength it was difficult to hold onto my mother. She screamed in my arms as blue flames licked at our heels, threatening to engulf us.

It took all of my focus to gain control of our momentum. I searched desperately for that weightless feeling, and when I finally found it I knew we would be safe. My mother gaped at me while I steered us upwards and away from the hellish, blue fire below. Nearby, I spotted a building with a rooftop for us to land on.

I was flying in its direction when a blue streak of light barely missed my face. The blasts of energy continued to surround us, causing me to fly around in aimless circles. Everywhere I turned sizzling bursts of bright, blue light threatened to take me down. I was blinded as one came dangerously close. The smell of burning hair caused me to look at my mother who I noticed had become suspiciously quiet. I blinked until I could see clearly again and found she was no longer conscious.

"Mom!" I screamed, attempting to shake her awake. She moaned painfully in response, but her eyes remained closed.

Now in full panic mode, I began flying faster than before in the direction of the nearest hospital. When more than five seconds passed without any shots being fired, I glanced uneasily at the ground, expecting to find the Kree soldier charging a new, horrible weapon. Much to my surprise, he was engaged in hand-to-hand combat with another man – and judging from his strength and durability he wasn't human either.

My mother moved in my arms, groaning and shaking from the pain. I felt completely helpless. I looked ahead and saw the hospital less than a hundred yards away. With the upmost care, I landed gently on the ground in front of the emergency room and began screaming for help. Nurses immediately rushed through the doors, strapped my mother to a gurney, and rolled her inside with impressive speed. I held tightly onto her hand and never looked away.

"It's going to be OK, Mom."

Tony

"Where the hell is that greasy, little bastard?" Tony shouted. There wasn't a camera in the world that hadn't been infiltrated by his face recognition software, yet here he was with nothing to show for it - only dozens of empty screens, mocking him in his failure. Where the hell did Banner run off to?

"Tony," Natasha said, making him jump with surprise.

Tony sighed loudly with irritation. "What did I say about sneaking up on me like that?" He asked, turning around to face her. She's never a disappointing sight, that's for sure.

"Sorry," Natasha smirked, tucking her short, red hair behind her ear. "Old habits die hard."

"You are truly terrifying at times," Tony said under his breath, returning to the screens.

"Any luck?" she asked, coming to stand next to him. Tony snorted in response, glancing over his shoulder as he heard the door open again. He suppressed a groan as Steve Rogers strolled in, star-spangled spandex and all.

"It's been weeks since Loki escaped," Steve said in his irritatingly boyish voice, "and we're no closer to finding him."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Tony replied sarcastically.

The tall, Norse god, Thor, walked in behind Steve. "Who is this Captain Obvious you speak of?" Thor asked.

Natasha chuckled as Tony leaned over his desk in frustration. "Listen guys," he said, "despite how stimulating our conversations are, I work best alone."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "We could accomplish more if we worked together, Tony."

"Really? Are any of you familiar with gamma ray signature algorithms?" He asked, looking around. The team members exchanged lost stares with one another. "No? I didn't think so. Now, if you don't mind…" he said, returning to his work.This would be a lot easier if Banner were still around, he thought solemnly to himself.

He heard the doors open once again, but remained facing the screens. "Does anyone here understand the meaning of alone time?" He asked, not hiding his annoyance. "Natasha, if that's Barton, please knock him out again."

"Luckily for Barton," Nick Fury announced loudly behind him, "he's still in recovery." He glanced to his side and caught Natasha smirking at him, obviously enjoying the disapproval in Fury's voice. Teacher's pet, he thought as he spun on his heel to face the director of SHIELD. Right away he knew something was wrong.

"To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?" He asked, unable to hide his disappointment.

With an irritated scowl, Fury proceeded towards the screens in quick strides, pushing both Tony and Natasha to the side in a not-so-gently manner. "Do any of you watch the news?" Fury asked as the screens became filled with live news feeds from all over the world.

"Oh, shit," Tony breathed. Silvia.

The Avengers stood side by side in silence as they watched the unsettling footage. On one screen, Anthony Alamanni's head was being blown to pieces. On another, Silvia was flying – well that's new. And on the last screen, it looked like a scene out of Fight Club: two men suffering from roid rage were beating the shit out of each other, using weapons Tony had only ever dreamed of creating. Could these be the aliens Silvia told him about?

"Tony," Steve said, breaking the silence. "Did you know anything about this? She is your friend after all."

Tony leaned back, folding his arms. "I didn't know she could fly."

"Who are these men?" Natasha asked, nodding at the screens. "They're far too strong to be human – even the enhanced individuals I've come across don't possess this level of strength." When the room became silent once again, all eyes turned to Tony.

He held up his hands defensively. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"You're lying," Natasha stated coolly.

Fury stepped closer, glaring angrily at Tony. "Mr. Stark, if you know something we don't… now would be the time to tell us," he warned.

Tony motioned to speak, but a loud, continuous beeping pulled everyone's attention away. Saved by the bell. He turned towards the sound, surprised to find his computer responsible for the obnoxious noise. The team gathered around the monitor, staring at the image which now repeatedly flashed before them.

"Well," Tony mumbled. "That's unexpected."

"Is it?" Steve asked accusingly. The two stared each other down before Tony pushed past him. He was finding it harder by the second not to punch the Boy Scout in his perfect, little face.

Thor stepped in, placing a hand on Tony's shoulder. He could practically feel the power radiating off of him. He learned firsthand this was not a man – eh, god – he wanted to upset without his suit on, especially in a room full of people who have made it abundantly clear they despised him. Jealous, much?

Thor stared at him seriously. "Thou shalt speak truthfully," he began. "Why is my brother consorting with this girl?" He asked, pointing at the image.

Again, everyone stared at the monitor uncomfortably. There was no mistaking the curvaceous blonde for anyone else. It was Silvia. Behind her stood Loki, holding her closely like an old lover, and she appeared to be enjoying it.

Tony shuddered repulsively at the thought of them together. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head with disappointment. He took another long, hard look at the image and became filled with guilt. "I don't know that girl anymore."

This is my fault. I should've listened to her.

There was a long, quiet pause before Fury spoke. "Agent Hill," he said, speaking into his walkie-talkie, "inform the crew we're going to New York City. We found him." With his long, black jacket fluttering behind him, Fury abruptly left the room without another word.

Tony's heart sank. Finding Loki should have been a time to celebrate, but now he dreaded it. The last thing he wanted was to confront the bastard with Silvia at his side.

The Avengers gathered in a circle with Steve in the middle. "Suit up," he said, sounding unusually sullen.

Tony looked at the First Avenger with surprise. "What? No pep talk?" He asked.

Steve glared at Tony with contempt. "Yeah, don't die."

Silvia

"What happened?"

"She was shot."

"How long has she been unconscious?"

"A few minutes."

"Does she have any medical problems?"

"None that I'm aware of…"

"Is she on any medications?"

"I-I don't know…"

"Does she have any allergies?"

"I don't think so."

"What's her full name and age?"

"Camilla Grace Alamanni, 51."

The nurse looked up from her clipboard and stared at me, recognizing me instantly. She gave me an apologetic look and patted me on the shoulder, and though it was meant to be a comforting gesture, it left me feeling hollow and afraid. I stood outside the window of the operating room, watching as my mother's clothes were cut off. I barely recognized her with all of the wires hooked up to her body. When they brought out the paddles, I felt my legs go numb. One of the ER nurses quickly escorted me to the waiting room where I stood in a state of shock, just staring and waiting. Hours passed and I didn't move an inch. As I stood there waiting, more than a few people were led through the double doors, covered in blood and moaning in pain. I wondered if they were from my father's speech.

Dad.

I took a brief glance around the room and stopped when I spotted a young, crying woman come through the glass sliding doors. She wasn't injured, so I assumed she was a friend or relative of one of the persons escorted inside just moments ago. I continued to awkwardly watch her as her crying became more distressful by the second. Instead of feeling sad or sorry for her, I only became angry. All I wanted to do was scream at her and tell her to quit crying.

She was the embodiment of everything I hated about myself – weak, pathetic, powerless. When I felt my fists begin to shake with rage, I ran outside and paced in front of the entrance doors, attempting to calm myself down. The cool, night air felt refreshing on my skin and soothing to my lungs – even though I seemed incapable of taking a deep breath.

"Excuse me, miss?" I spun around to see a man with his hand extended towards me. He was holding an open pack of cigarettes. "You look like you could use one," he said with an empathetic smile.

I hesitated briefly before silently nodding and accepting his offer. With the cigarette stuck between my lips, I leaned forward into the flame of his lighter and puffed gently until the end was glowing. With one last nod, he placed his hands in his pockets and walked through the sliding glass doors, leaving me alone with my stick of cancer.

I inhaled gently and immediately began coughing. My virgin lungs were furious with me. After a few more attempts, I got the hang of it and began to develop a nice buzz. I nodded appreciatively and gazed up at the clear night sky, mesmerized by the twinkling stars.

How could a night as beautiful as this be the worst day of my life?

With a sigh, I released the smoke from my mouth and covered the stars in a soft, white blanket. When the little balls of light re-emerged and appeared to shine even brighter than before, my body began to shake with grief. Will I ever make it out of this darkness? I thought sadly to myself. Looking down at the ground, I became aware of heavy footsteps approaching me. I glanced to my side and saw a hefty, handsome man on the sidewalk heading towards me. It was Mar-Vell.

I dropped the still-burning cigarette in my hand and ran into his arms. "My dad," I cried. "Someone killed him, Mar-Vell. And – and my mother was shot."

"I know," he said quietly, stroking my head. "I was there…I caught him, Silvia," he said with grim satisfaction. My tears came to a halt.

I tilted my head back to look at him. His eyes were in the early stages of bruising, and his once-perfect face was now tarnished with several deep cuts. The red, zip-up hoodie he wore was splattered with blood – Kree blood – and burn marks that could only come from a plasma gun.

"That was you I saw in the street," I said. He nodded solemnly.

"Where is he?" I asked, eager to face the man who killed my father.

"Home – he's not going anywhere," he firmly replied. As I imagined ripping the man's heart out, I felt Mar-Vell's hand squeeze my shoulder. "He will answer for his crimes."

To my right, I heard a faint whooshing sound as the sliding glass doors opened up. Instantly, Mar-Vell's body became tense and alert. I followed his gaze to see a nurse standing at the entrance, gawking at the two of us - mostly Mar-Vell. She cleared her throat and approached us with an uncomfortable expression.

"Miss Alamanni, the doctor would like to speak with you now," she said timidly. Her body posture suggested she was frightened – but of what? Me?

I gave Mar-Vell a questioning look before following her, prompting him to join me by my side. He spoke in a low voice so only I could hear. "Many people witnessed the incident – many cameras as well," he said. "They will be coming for us, Silvia."

I glanced around nervously, suddenly aware of everyone watching the two of us. Nurses stopped what they were doing to stare at me, their eyes filled with suspicion and fear. By the time we reached the ICU, my stomach felt like it had been twisted into painful knots. We were led down a hallway and into a small room, furnished only with four metal chairs, a table, and a TV.

I glanced uneasily around the small room, not enjoying its melancholic atmosphere. There was a lump in my throat that seemed to be growing larger by the second, and the claustrophobic room was doing nothing to settle my nerves.

Mar-Vell took a protective stance by the door, watching me as I paced nervously across the small room. In an attempt to calm my nerves and distract me from my worries, I turned the TV on and instantly regretted the decision. Every channel – even the cartoon network – was plastered with images of my face. My legs began to shake as videos of me flying into the sky with my mother began to surface. I collapsed backwards into one of the cold, metal chairs and looked at Mar-Vell. He was staring unhappily at the TV, arms folded with unease.

We both turned as the door swung open. In the doorway stood a doctor accompanied by two men in black suits, both observing me closely. The doctor, whose eyes had remained cast downward, inhaled deeply and finally looked at me. There was an unmistakable sadness in his expression as he sat down before me.

The doctor's mouth grew tight. "I'm sorry Miss Alamanni. I have bad news – "

"No," I said, shaking my head. "She's not…"

"We did everything we could. Your mother's head injury caused swelling around her brain stem – " he said, stopping as I abruptly stood up. The two men behind him stiffened with attention and reached inside their jackets.

"Where is she?" I demanded angrily.

"Your mother has passed away," the doctor said more softly. "I am so sorry for your loss."

I leaned forward, grabbing ahold of his white jacket. Before the two men in suits could react, Mar-Vell lunged forward and slammed both men's heads together, rendering them unconscious.

I pulled the doctor across the table. "Where is my mother?" I yelled, shaking him.

He whimpered and closed his eyes in fear. "Room 315 – please don't hurt me," he begged, now beginning to cry.

I released him and exited the room without a backwards glance. In less than a minute I was standing outside room 315, hesitating only briefly before pushing open the door. In front of me was a hospital bed, and lying on top of it was my mother. The room was eerily quiet as I approached her bed, unable to look away from her calm, pale face. She looks like she could be sleeping, I thought sadly, suddenly getting an idea. Behind me I heard Mar-Vell enter the room, quietly watching me as I began rummaging through the drawers beside her bed.

"I can save her," I whispered, grabbing an IV.

In the far left corner of the room, I found the machine I was looking for and wheeled it over, trying not to entangle myself in all of the plastic tubing.

Mar-Vell inhaled unsteadily, as if he were shocked or surprised. "What are you doing?" he asked, worry in his voice.

I stared longingly at my mother's lifeless form. "Bringing her back to me," I said softly, looking down at my arm.

Mar-Vell watched in disbelief as I continued to tie a blue tourniquet around my bicep, causing the large vein in the crease to protrude. Don't worry, Mom. It's going to be alright. With the needle in my hand, I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. At first it resisted against my half-Kree skin, but with my strength I was able to push through rather easily.

"Stop this," Mar-Vell ordered, taking ahold of my hand. "She is gone – there is nothing you can do."

"You're wrong," I said, angered by his pessimism. "I know this works… I've seen it." Ronan saved me, so I can save her. After securing the needle in my arm, I released the tourniquet and gently wrapped it around my mother's arm. An involuntary shudder ran through me as I felt the coolness of her skin.

"Kree blood is not a miracle drug," Mar-Vell said in a frustrated tone. When I didn't respond, he grabbed my hand and prevented me from inserting the IV into my mother's vein. "I will not watch you defile your mother's corpse."

"Then leave," I hissed, shrugging him off. He released a heavy sigh, grimacing when I continued to push the needle under her skin. Despite his disapproval, Mar-Vell did not leave as he said he would.

I turned the machine on and immediately felt it pump the blood from my body into my mother's. Her cold, stagnant blood slowly filled one of the fluid bags as it was replaced with my own. Mar-Vell and I both carefully observed my mother, watching and waiting for anything.

"This is wrong," Mar-Vell said finally, glancing sideways at me. "And you will die if you continue doing this."

By now I was leaning against her bed, too drained to stand without support. My clammy skin was covered in sweat and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to vomit and faint from the blood loss. Regardless, I wiped the sweat off my brow and shook my head, not wanting to give up. Just a few more minutes.

"Come on, Mom," I said, feeling worse by the second. "Please…"

Mar-Vell wrapped one arm around me for support. "It's time to say goodbye," he said softly.

I vigorously shook my head, not wanting to give up. "I can't," I whispered.

His breath shook as he looked over his shoulder, obviously alarmed by something. "You must," he urged, grabbing ahold of my arm.

A moment later, I could hear dozens of footsteps echoing down the hallway, accompanied by hushed voices and the soft, metallic clacking of heavily armored men.

SHIELD.

Because of the blood loss, my mind seemed to be moving more quickly than my body. Mar-Vell gathered me in his arms as if I were a child and carried me to the window. There was no fire escape or railing to climb down, but we were close enough to the ground to jump and survive.

Mar-Vell opened the window just as SHIELD arrived at our door. With my chin resting on his shoulder, I watched the door begin to shake with each strike of the agent's battering ram. I wrapped my legs more tightly around Mar-Vell as he pulled himself up onto the window sill, preparing to jump. My eyes remained glued to the rhythmic pounding upon the door, and just when I feared we were too late, it abruptly stopped. Mar-Vell stopped and turned, watching the door as well. Suddenly there were screams, followed by rapid gun fire and more screams. I could hear bodies being slammed against the walls and bones snapping. It was the Kree assassin coming to finish his job.

As my pulse continued to rise and my blood pressure dropped, my vision slowly faded away. Reality turned into a dream-like world. Everything became muddled and bizarre, including my own hands. I closed my eyes to avoid getting sick and found myself slipping ever deeper into the darkness. It welcomed me with open arms.

A muffled voice spoke above me, bringing me out of my half-conscious state. "We… need…to go," I whispered, too tired to open my eyes. I could feel Mar-Vell's arms underneath me, cradling me close against his body. As I leaned into him and inhaled his scent, my heart fluttered with surprise. Sandalwood and eucalyptus. I knew that scent far too well to know it didn't belong to Mar-Vell.

Could it really be...

"Silvia," the voice said again. It was as clear and beautiful as a summer day, filling me with warmth and hope. I slowly opened my eyes. Everything remained blurry, but there was no mistaking that voice.

"Is it really you?" I whispered, fighting to stay awake. As my world began to fade to black, two purple eyes shined amidst the darkness and peered into my soul.

"Yes, I've come for you."

Ronan.

Author's note: OMG he's back! It's been forever. I really do hate to leave off on such a huge cliffhanger, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer for an update. I appreciate all of the messages and comments! Everyone has been really supportive and impressively patient. I've had A LOT going on. I accepted a job offer overseas, so I've been really busy with visa and permit stuff. It's crazy. But that's dealt with so now I have more time to write again! Yay!

Anyways, so yeah... Ronan is back. Sweet Jesus. I've already started working on the next chapter and let me tell you... it's crazy for real. My comic fans on here have already PM'd me guessing what's going to happen and I thank them for not spoiling anything for the other readers. As I've already said before, the Marvel universe is at my mercy :) But I've tried to make it fit here and there. Even if you do read the comics you might not have a clue what's going in or what will happen - which I LOVE because that will make it more of a surprise.

Silvia's life is a delight, right? Ugh I feel so bad for her... and her poor parents! Do you think Ronan's return is good or bad for Silvia? And what the hell does Loki want with her? *evil laugh* Only time will tell. I would love to hear predictions or any suggestions/feedback. Please continue to be patient as I write the next chapter :) I'm just as eager as all of you to have Ronan back. I promise will not leave you hanging.