Chapter Twenty-Four

"Ultron knows we're coming. Odds are we'll be riding into heavy fire, and that's what we signed up for. But the people of Sokovia, they didn't. So our priority is getting them out."

Klara sat quietly within the quinjet as Steven addressed the team, staring at her hands instead of looking at him. He hadn't wanted her to come. He had nearly insisted. If it hadn't been for Lord Thor's intervention she would most likely be back at Avengers Tower. She knew he was still angry at her for siding with Tony Stark, though he had not said as much.

"All they want is to live their lives in peace," he said, "And that's not going to happen today. But we can do our best to protect them. Klara-" She looked up, startled, but his expression gave no indication of his emotional state. "-I want you working with the Maximoffs on the evacuation. They know the city better than any of us."

Klara glanced at the twins, huddled together in a far corner of the bay. They looked distinctly uncomfortable with this arrangement. The girl especially, Wanda, was eying Klara with the same uneasiness that Klara felt herself. Though they appeared to have thrown off the yolk of their most recent oppressor, she still did not entirely trust these children. But the condition of Klara's inclusion here had been a promise of complete obedience, so she merely nodded acknowledgment of Steven's command.

"Barton, Banner, your job is to find Romanov," Steven said, turning back to the team, "Get her to safety. Banner, we'll let you know when you're cleared for Code Green, so keep your ears on."

The doctor nodded but did not lift his eyes. He had been pensive since they'd taken flight. Klara suspected he was worried about Alice. They had not heard from her since she had gone with Nick Fury and Maria Hill.

"Ultron thinks we're monsters," Steven met Klara's eyes for a brief moment and she thought she read something there that was perhaps not anger after all. "That we're what's wrong with the world. This isn't just about beating him. It's about whether he's right."

Dr. Banner clenched his fists briefly and rose to move toward the front of the jet, where Clint Barton was piloting them ever closer to Sokovia. Klara clenched her own hands in her lap, feeling lost. Should she go to him, or-

"Your power-" Klara jumped. Wanda had moved without her realizing it, now sitting with only one seat between them, watching her clasped hands with a mixture of caution and curiosity. "-where does it come from?"

Klara blinked, then looked down at her hands, unclasping them and examining the palms and fingertips as if they themselves held the answers.

"My mother."

It was the first time she had ever said it aloud, the first time she had ever acknowledged the truth of it. An invisible weight seemed to lift as the words escaped her.

"What is she like?" the girl asked.

Klara looked up to answer and caught Lord Thor's eye across the bay. He glanced away quickly, as if only in passing, but Klara knew better. She had served the prince faithfully and his expressions were often transparent to all who had a mind to see. He had heard her confession. But this knowledge did not frighten her as much as she had thought it might.

"I do not know," she said, turning back to the girl, "I never knew her. But I think she was strong. I hope to have her strength someday."

The girl smiled, a small, timid thing and Klara caught her own lips mimicking the gesture. She did not meet Lord Thor's eyes again.

They landed in the forest outside of Novi Grad just as the sun was reaching its zenith and disembarked, Clint Barton and Dr. Banner hurrying off with barely a word, headed in the direction of the castle overlooking the city. Klara moved to join the twins, who looked eager to be off, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"Klara."

She stopped, surprised to hear not anger but concern in Captain Rogers' voice. When he appeared to be at a loss for more words, Klara tentatively covered his hand with her own.

"Be careful, Steven."

He blinked in surprise, then smiled sheepishly.

"Funny, I was just about to tell you the same thing."

He seemed about to say something else, but then changed his mind and simply squeezed her arm before releasing her.

"We haven't got much time," he said, with a tinge of regret that Klara felt resonate in her soul, "Get as many people out as you can."

She nodded and turned to hurry toward the twins.

"I'll run ahead and inform the authorities," the boy said, "They're mostly useless, but maybe they can help."

"We'll follow you," Miss Maximoff agreed, and he was gone in a blur of gray. Klara exchanged a glance with his sister, and then they started after him, toward the city.

Bruce was surprised at how easy it was to get inside the castle. Surprised in a way that made him jumpy and on edge. Clint seemed about as willing to accept their good luck as Bruce was, with his bow out and arrow to the stringhe, peering into every shadow as if Ultron was waiting to jump out and shout "Boo!"

Bruce had hoped to speak to Tony before they got to Sokovia, but he hadn't had the chance. Which meant the conversation he needed to have with Clint was going to be that much more difficult. But he didn't have a choice. Clint was one of the few people Alice trusted. He had to do this.

"Hey, Clint?"

"Yeah, man." The answer was distracted, but it would have to do.

"You and Alice are friends, right?"

"Sure," the archer said, glancing around a corner before moving forward, "She's a good kid."

"I mean...if something happened, you'd make sure that she-?"

"Nat!" Clint hissed into the dark before he took off down the stairs.

They seemed to have stumbled into some kind of makeshift dungeon/workshop, like something Tony might have constructed if he lived in a medieval castle. And in the gloom of one of the cells-turned-workspaces, Bruce saw the flash of bright red hair.

"You boys took your sweet-ass time," Natasha grumbled as they rushed down the stairs, "I don't suppose either of you found a key laying around here someplace?"

"I've got something," Clint said, switching arrowheads and pulling a new shaft, setting it to the string, "Better stand clear."

Nat ducked out of the way and Bruce took a few steps back as the archer released the arrow straight into the keyhole. It exploded with a small pop of fire and smoke, and Clint shoved the now mangled gate aside, grabbing Nat up into a fierce, one-armed hug.

"The team's in the city, it's about to light up," he said as he set her back onto her feet.

"What's our play?" Nat asked, turning to Bruce, "Big Green ready to redeem himself to the world?"

"First things first, let's get you out of here," Clint said, "Once we get back up top, we can-"

"I'm not coming with you."

The two ex-spies turned to stare at Bruce. He swallowed and forced himself to keep talking.

"I... I can't be in a fight with civilians," he said, "You guys can help with the evacuation, but...I think it's time I take myself out of the picture. Past time, actually."

Clint's eyes narrowed.

"So that stuff you were saying. About Alice."

Bruce dropped his gaze. "I just... I just needed to know that someone-"

A rumble shook the ground beneath their feet and knocked several pieces of equipment over with a crash. Dust drifted from the ceiling as the stones shifted.

"We gotta move," Bruce said, pressing his fingers to a growing crack in the wall, "This building won't hold under that kind of strain for very long."

Clint shoved past him up the stairs, Natasha following a little less forcefully, but giving Bruce a frown all the same. Bruce ran after them, ducking debris as they fled, turning corners and mounting stairs with increasingly unstable foundations. At the top of a particularly unsettling flight of steps, Nat suddenly whirled on him, causing him to stumble back.

"You know, I get it," she said, eyes flashing, "What you're doing. I've thought about it myself, more than once: tapping out, finding a nice quiet spot where I couldn't hurt anyone ever again. In fact, if circumstances were different, I might even tag along, start over."

She stepped closer, put a hand on his chest. Bruce held his breath.

"But the job's not finished, Banner," she murmured, "And we need the Other Guy."

Quicker than Bruce could blink, her other hand grabbed him by the back of the collar and she dropped, one leg sweeping out to knock both feet out from under him. He scrambled, grabbing at the empty air...and then he disappeared into a fog of green.

Klara didn't know how she'd gotten separated from the twins. Between the city ripping itself from the earth and the hordes of metallic minions erupting from every nook and cranny, it had been all she could do to keep the group of panicked Sokovians under her care moving. Not that moving did them much good. They weren't going anywhere if the chatter coming through comms was any indication. But she managed not to let any of that show in her expression as she directed the last citizens of Novi Grad into a large building that looked as if it had once been a shopping facility, shelves of wares and stacks of boxes lining row after row of tiled floor space.

"Steven?" Klara spoke tentatively into her earpiece, "I've sheltered as many people as I can, but I've lost the Maximoff children."

"Where are you?" His voice came back to her over a series of screeches and squeals that made her wince.

"Some sort of grocer's shop on the north edge of the city."

"I'm on my way," he said, over another loud screech and a crash, "Don't move!"

She took a breath and straightened her spine, turning to the huddled people clustered around her.

"Stay here," she commanded, "Help is on the way. We'll be safe, so long as we remain calm and-"

A woman screamed, and Klara whirled to see a trio of the robotic creatures swoop into view, landing on the lawn just beyond the glass doors. They trained their lighted eyes on the building and began to advance. Before Klara could think it through, she grabbed one of the long wooden handles clustered in a bin nearby and ran outside, making sure the door shut firmly behind her. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she was not going to just stand about and let these people come to harm. She widened her stance and tightened her grip.

"You will come no further."

The robots actually paused, as if they had not expected her to show any resistance. But it lasted only a moment. The lead machine launched itself at her with a speed that was frankly terrifying. Klara swung out with a cry and the cloth-covered end of her makeshift staff bashed it in the face, sending it careening back into the others. They all stumbled a step and readied for another assault.

There was a whistle, a thunk, and a small bloom of flame erupted from the eye socket of the right-most machine. It fell with a whine as another arrow zipped through the air, exploding in the chest of the one on the far-left and cracking it in half. The third looked as if it might flee, but was taken by another arrow to the back of the head. Only then did Clint Barton emerge from around the side of the building, his hand to his ear.

"We got the north side covered, Cap," he said, "Hold position."

"Roger that. Thanks, Barton."

The archer dropped his hand and eyed the broken end of the handle still clutched in Klara's hand. He raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just attack an Ultron with a mop?"

"It was nearby," Klara said, sweeping the broken bits of wood and cloth to the side with her foot, "The options were limited."

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

He put another arrow to the string of his bow and looked out, past the edge of the city which was now an almost solid cloud bank. Klara stood beside him in silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry I was so hard on you," he said suddenly, "Before."

Klara clasped the handle of the mop behind her, keeping her eyes fixed on the clouds.

"There is no need-"

"No." He cut her off and she glanced up. He was looking at her with a deeply intent expression. "No, there is. We both know I've been treating you like shit. I had my reasons, but that doesn't change the facts. So this is me, owning up to it. I'm sorry, Klara."

Klara let the words hang between them for a moment, searching for the right answer to give him. But finally, she settled on the most simple and elegant response that she knew.

"Thank you."

He nodded and turned back to the horizon. Klara turned away as well, focusing instead on the voices in her earpiece, Steven and Natasha Romanov.

"...people are going nowhere. If Stark finds a way to blow this rock-"

"Not 'til everyone's safe."

"Everyone up here versus everyone down there? There's no math there."

"I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it."

"I didn't say we should leave."

There was a pause. Klara reached out and took Clint Barton's hand. He was trembling. Klara thought of his children, his beautiful wife. She squeezed his fingers, and he held on tightly.

"There's worse ways to go," Natasha's voice said gently, "Where else am I gonna get a view like this?"

There was a jolt of static, a click, and then a familiar yet unexpected voice.

"Glad you like the view, Romanov. It's about to get better."

There was a roar of engine noise, and Klara exchanged a look of equal confusion with Clint Barton. They ran out from beneath the shop awning and looked down the jagged line of the city. There, emerging from the cloud bank, was a large flat vehicle that Klara had only ever seen in Midgardian news clips. Something that should have no longer existed.

"That sneaky bastard," Clint Barton muttered, "A helicarrier."

As they watched, several smaller vessels detached from the main ship and began to soar across the divide separating them from the city.

"Let's get moving," Clint Barton said, jogging back to the shop and shoving the doors open wide, "Alright people, the cavalry has arrived! Let's move it, come on!"

The Sokovians filed out, following Klara's lead with surprising calm as Clint Barton easily dispatched the few bots that attempted to hamper their escape. They met with another larger group, and Klara could see glimpses of Steven's uniform through the crowd, but before she could make her way toward him-

"Klara!"

She turned toward the sound of her name and saw yet another unexpected face.

"Alice?"

She ran toward the girl and found herself caught in an embrace, quick but fierce.

"What are you doing here?" Klara asked as they parted, taking in the girl's black uniform and SHIELD insignia.

"Nick said they needed pilots," Alice said, jerking a thumb back at the boxy vessel that was quickly filling with civilians, "It's not a quinjet, but the controls are easy enough. Where's Bruce? I thought he'd be with you."

"I... I don't know," Klara confessed and cringed at the look of dread that crossed Alice's face, "Clint Barton and Miss Romanov said the Hulk joined the fight when they did. I'm sure he's alright."

There was a crackle on the comm, and Klara touched her earpiece as Lord Thor's voice bellowed in her ear.

"They're coming for the core!"

"Rhodey," Tony Stark said as he blasted by over their heads, "Get the rest of the people on board that carrier."

"On it."

"That's my cue," Alice said, reaching out to squeeze Klara's shoulder, "I'll be back. Find Bruce, time to get off this rock."

Then she was gone, running toward the vessel now filled with innocents waiting to be rescued. Klara watched as the engines cycled, the ramp lifted, and the box floated back toward the helicarrier. Then she turned to survey what was left.

The Avengers were gone, protecting what remained of the city, keeping everything together to give those that remained a fighting chance for escape. And there were still so many waiting, so many to be saved. Klara rolled up her sleeves and plunged into the masses, organizing groups to be taken by the incoming rescue boats. It wasn't as difficult as she might have imagined. The people of Sokovia were a people used to hardship, and they took the direction compliantly. The sounds of battle filled her earpiece, a flurry of sound and static, but finally, one clear voice sounded.

"We gotta move out," Steven said, "Even I can tell the air is getting thin. You guys get to the boats, I'll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you."

"The last of the civilians are being loaded on now," Klara said, as another rescue boat detached from the helicarrier and began to make its approach, "I believe we can get everyone on to this last vessel."

"Good," Steven said, "Think you can manage a lullaby, Klara?"

"Tell me where he is," Klara said, handing a bag to a small woman and sending her to stand with the last group of Sokovians.

"Last I saw he was tearing apart some playground equipment on the east side."

"As soon as someone comes to direct these people, I'll-"

"We're here."

Clint Barton and Natasha Romanov slid to a stop in a car that looked as if it had seen better days and hopped out together.

"We got this," Clint Barton said, taking another bag from her hands and slinging it over his shoulder, "Go get the Big Guy."

Klara nodded and took off to the east at a run.

Alice made contact with Novi Grad and slammed the rescue boat into hover-mode, anchoring the ramp to the rock before she unhooked her harness and scrambled out of the cockpit. The last of the Sokovians were already loading in, and she had to press against the flow to finally gain the ground, but when she looked around she didn't see Klara or Bruce anywhere.

"Alice!"

Clint jogged up to her with an old bag slung over his shoulder that he passed off to an older man as he climbed the ramp into the boat.

"Where's Klara and Bruce?" Alice demanded, "She was supposed to bring him, where are they?"

"She just took off to find him," Clint said and grabbed her arm when she moved to push past him, "You can't go, Alice, you know that."

"But they might need me!"

"That's probably more true than you know," Clint said, and Alice didn't like the way he said that, "But these people need you too. Let Klara do her job, and you do yours."

She wanted to fight him. She wanted to rip her arm out of his grip and take off running, to find Bruce and drag him onto the damn boat herself. But...a young woman held the arm of an old man as he tottered up the ramp. A teenage boy held the bags of two women as they clung to each other. A boy shuffled past, clutching a stuffed dog to his chest as if it were the most precious thing on earth. A boy that could have been Jacob, once upon a time.

Clint was right. This boat, these people, were her job. And they needed her. A woman started crying out for her brother, and Clint gave her arm a reassuring squeeze before he went back to find him. Alice moved to help the teen boy with his bags, but she glanced back once more over her shoulder. The quinjet rose up into the sky and started turning in midair, unsteady as if whoever was at the controls wasn't quite used to them. Alice furrowed her brow and touched her earpiece.

"Hey, guys? Who's flying the jet?"

Klara approached the raging Hulk with the confidence of long practice. This was something she could do. This was something she was meant for.

"Hello, my friend."

He turned and roared in her direction, but Klara did not waver. He took a step back and snorted.

"You've done such good here today," she said, "But the air grows scant, and time grows short."

She crouched to the ground, pressing one hand to the earth, the other outstretched. Hulk took another step back and bared his teeth.

"So should the lines of life that life repair,

Which this, Time's pencil, or my pupil pen,

Neither in inward worth nor outward fair,

Can make you live your self in eyes of men."

He sniffed but did not retreat again. Instead, he took a single, hesitant step forward. Klara smiled.

"To give away yourself, keeps yourself still," He took another step, shook his head, reached out his hand. "And you must live, drawn by your own sweet—-"

The sounds of gunfire were followed by explosions of dirt and grass so close that Klara jerked back, throwing up a hand to shield her eyes. There was a roar of anger, of pain, and she was knocked back with a glancing blow that took her breath away. She landed with her leg twisted awkwardly beneath her, something in her ankle cracked, and pain blossomed like a brilliant flower. She cried out-

Light erupted seemingly from the very earth itself, flaring outward into a dome of shimmering greens and golds. A figure knelt on the ground before her, thin and lanky, dark hair smoothed back from pale skin, sharp profile furrowed in concentration, long-fingered hands gripping the staff planted in the earth.

The All-Father staff.

In impossible hands.

"...Loki?"

He turned only slightly toward her, fixing her with one brilliant eye, and his lips widened into a mischievous smirk that struck Klara with a pain more present and devastating than any injury.

He turned and stood in one fluid motion, facing the Hulk beyond the shimmering dome, roaring in a frenzy of frustrated rage and confusion.

"Go," he commanded, the voice of a prince, "On what little honor I still possess, the girl is safe with me."

He lifted the scepter of his father and pointed it past the Hulk's shoulder, to the quinjet streaking away across the sky.

"Tear them to shreds."

The Hulk hesitated for only a second. Then he snarled and leapt into the air, bounding over crumpled buildings and disappearing from sight.

Loki sagged and dropped back to one knee, supporting his weight on the staff.

"You...still make everything...infinitely more difficult," he whispered, a touch of humor coloring his voice.

Klara felt every word, every syllable, like a hot needle piercing her over and over. She tried to get up, to move toward him, but her ankle would not support her weight and she fell, gasping as the pain shot up her leg to mingle with the pain in her chest. The dome wavered, fell away, and suddenly he was there, hovering over her, his expression a rapidly shifting contortion that Klara could barely read: sorrow, fear, regret, rage. She reached for him with a trembling hand, as she had done in so many of her nightmares, needing to touch, to prove that he was real, that she wasn't dreaming, that he was truly-

"Klara!"

Loki pulled back, rolled to his feet, the staff gripped in both hands once more. Determination now was fixed upon his face.

"Forgive me, dearest."

The staff struck the earth, and Klara surged forward, ignoring the pain, desperate for-

"No, wait! Please!"

The burst of light nearly blinded her, and by the time she was able to look again, he was gone.

"Klara," Steven dropped to one knee beside her, hands hovering over her but not touching, hesitant. "Klara, look at me, what happened?"

She blinked in surprise, her eyes finding his, worried, frightened.

"Klara, that light...what did you see?"

Her eyes drifted back, back to the place he...it had been, where it had knelt in the dirt.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "I don't know what it was."

"We have to get you out of here. Can you walk?"

She blinked again and tried to focus, separating her pain into categories she could manage.

"Something is wrong with my ankle," she said, "If you could just-oh!"

Instead of helping her to her feet, as she had expected, Steven scooped her into his arms as if she were no more than a child. She clung to his neck and found a strange comfort in knowing he was...real. She buried her face in his shoulder and held back her tears as he ran.

Alice paced the edge of the ramp, frantically scanning the horizon for any signs. Where were they?!

"Number Four Boat, are you secure?"

Alice growled and put her hand to her ear.

"When I'm secure, Klein, you'll know it, stop bothering me!"

"Altitude has reached 18,000 feet and-"

"Screw the damn altitude, I've still got people on this rock!"

"Agent Ripley," That was Fury's stern voice in her ear now. "You are ordered to make your boat secure and return to base ship immediately. Is that understood?"

"But I-"

"Is that understood, Agent?"

She sucked in a frustrated breath and turned to really give the "Director" a piece of her mind... A group of three kids were huddled together around a stack of bags, watching her with wide, fearful eyes. She let out her breath and took in another one.

"Damn it, Nick, yes, understood. Making the boat secure now, give me..."

She trailed off as she turned to press the manual lift button for the ramp. There was a figure jogging across the deserted lawn of the shopping outlet, carrying something in his arms.

"I've got last minute incoming, give me fifteen seconds!" Alice said, and then promptly ignored the angry orders that flooded her earpiece, running out to meet Steve carrying Klara in his arms.

"God, you guys took your sweet-ass time!" she exclaimed, "Where's Bruce? Nick's on my ass to get this box back home."

"Then lock it down and head out," Steve said, as he mounted the ramp and set Klara gently on the floor, "The air's too thin up here for civilians, I'm surprised you're still standing."

"Not without Bruce, where is he?" Alice asked, looking at Klara. The girl would not meet her eyes "Klara, where is he?"

"He... We were attacked," Klara said, "I couldn't stop him, he went after the jet-"

There was a boom and a whoosh as the city dropped out from under them like the stone that it was. The boat lurched and Alice faltered on the edge of the ramp. She heard Klara scream-

"Alice!"

Steve grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her inside, slamming his other fist into the manual lift button. The ramp shuddered and then closed behind her.

"Emergency Boat Four, do you copy?" Klein squeaked in her ear, "Emergency Boat Four, come in!"

"We're here," Alice said, running a shaking hand through her hair, "We're okay."

Another muffled boom and a rumble of static through her earpiecethat made her wince. The boat rocked a little side-to-side, despite the stabilizers Alice had left on.

"Novi Grad is neutralized," Fury said somberly, "Repeat, threat is neutralized. Agent Ripley?"

"Yes, sir," Alice answered through the spreading numbness she was trying to fight back.

"Do you have Klara on board with you?"

Alice furrowed her brow and glanced at Klara, who looked just as confused as she felt. "Yes, sir?"

"Bring her in. We have contact with the quinjet, but it's been cloaked. We're not sure how long we'll be able to hold communications open."

The jet... Bruce...

"On our way," Alice answered, and launched herself toward the cockpit.

The little bit of distance they had to cross to get to the helicarrier felt like an ocean. Alice tried not to rush docking procedures, but even she had to admit it was rougher than usual. The clamps finally latched, the ramp lowered, and she tossed off her harness, scrambling over the seat to get to the door. She raced past Klara, who still sat on the floor with Steve by her side, examining her ankle.

"I'll meet you guys in the control room!" she shouted over her shoulder, not waiting for an answer. She couldn't wait. Bruce was out there.

She wove through the helicarrier personnel, parting the SHIELD agents like water, never once breaking stride until she slammed through to the bridge.

"Where is he?" she asked, making a beeline for the head of communications, a small, curly-headed man with a round face and wide, nervous eyes, "Klein, where's the jet?"

"Um, I, uh..." He turned back to his console, tapping frantically on the buttons. "Where's, um, the girl, Klara?"

"She's coming, but she's hurt, we need to establish a line of communication," Alice said, surprised at how quickly this BS line came to her. All she wanted was to see Bruce, to know that he was okay.

"Right, uh, well, the jet is cloaked, but still in range, we can-"

A picture sprang to life on his console. It was the inside of the quinjet, looking back from the flight console. The pilot's seat had been ripped out, leaving the view to the back of the jet open, and there sat the Hulk, crouched down in the hangar compartment, hunched in to make himself fit.

"Can he hear me?" she asked, her voice shaking only a little bit.

Klein handed her his headset and got out of his chair. Alice put the set on her head, adjusting the mouthpiece, trying to think of something to say.

"Hey, Big Guy."

He grunted and turned toward her. His expression wasn't violent, only confused. Alice smiled.

"I heard about what happened. With Klara. She's fine, I want you to know that."

The Hulk moved forward, maneuvering his bulk so that it fit in the cockpit, his face close to the screen, watching her.

"Listen," she said, "I know, we haven't really gotten a chance to talk much. But I know that you care about Bruce as much as I do. And that you know how much I love him." Her voice cracked and she swallowed, trying to regain some control. "So I need you to do me a favor, okay? I need you to turn this bird around, can you do that? Please, I just... We can't track you in stealth mode. So we need-"

The screen went blank. Alice stared at it for a second, then looked up at Klein, a knot of panic rising up her throat.

"What happened?"

"He...cut the communication line," Klein said softly.

"Well, get it back!" Alice snapped, shooting to her feet so quickly that the chair clattered to the floor, "Flip a switch, find the signal, get him back!"

"I can't," Klein squeaked, "He's out of range."

Alice stared at the blank screen, remembering the look on his face: the sad eyes, the determined expression. She took in a breath because she knew she had to, and slowly, carefully, handed the headset back to the communications officer.

"Thank you, Agent Klein."

Then before he could reply (or she could lose her tenuous grip), Alice turned and walked out of the control room, ignoring Klara and Steve when she passed them at the door, taking out her earpiece so she didn't have to hear Fury's voice in her ear, ignoring the other agents that watched her as she passed. She walked, calmly, steadily, until she reached the hangar deck. But there was nothing here for her. Nothing but boxy rescue boats, confused civilians, and haggard personnel that didn't look particularly prepared for the influx of an entire city's population.

"Alice?"

She turned toward Clint's voice. He was dirty and bloody and he carried the pain of loss on him. The Maximoff boy, Pietro, had sacrificed his life to save Clint. But even with that grief weighing down his shoulders, Clint took one look at Alice's face and opened his arms without a hint of hesitation.

"I know," he said as he hugged her close, and she started sobbing, "I know."

The Hulk stared at the little screen for a long while, his brow furrowed. He didn't know why the Other One had wanted to turn it off. Only that he was angry and sad and in pain. These were all the things that made him, so Hulk did not question them. But the blankness of the screen bothered him. He fumbled in a pocket with fingers that were too large and finally managed to pull out the picture that the Other One had taken such care with. The girl. The girl with the big eyes and the sad smile, the girl the Other One had tried so hard to protect above all things.

He put the picture over the blank screen and sat back, studying the girl's face. They would go to a new place now, with new faces. But Hulk knew, no matter where they went or how many faces they saw, the girl's face would stay with them. Some faces were special like that. Her face was special.

...you know how much I love him...please...

There was a flash of pain...and then silence. For the first time in a long time, Hulk knew he was alone.

A/N: Oh god, that was so painful...and of course, I can't leave you guys hanging on that for a whole week, with only one chapter left! So, (as is becoming traditional with me) the FINAL CHAPTER of "Good Intentions" is available TODAY! Dry your tears, my darlings, and read on...