Gabie

III

Wind brushes through my hair as Tony drives the lovely speedboat away from the scene of the crime.

The fires still burn, I am too weak to put them out. The Iron Legion was tasked with cleaning up the scene while we make a crafty escape.

Allie is wrapped in a blanket in my arms on one of the leather couches. She sleeps restlessly, having sobbed herself into a coma.

Tony and I are silent.

"You have to call Steve and Nat," I say and pause. "Bruce too."

"The team, I'll call the team," he states and I nod.

"You realize that's all her soulmates plus Clint and Thor right?" I remark and smirk. Allie has all Earths Mightiest Heroes in the palm of her hand. "And Thor's off world."

"I'm calling the team, we'll meet at the tower and I'll figure this out," he states. "Just-" Tony stops short and looks back at me, back at her. His hollow eyes are drowned with guilt and regret. "Just keep her comfortable."

"Stark-"

"Don't! Don't you dare say this isn't my fault or try and get me to forgive myself because I can't! I will never be able to forgive myself for this! Allie died! I felt her die! I let her slip between my fingers!" He chokes up and tears come down his face again. Angrily he swipes them away and turns his back to me.

"Gabie she was right there and I promised-" his voice gets quiet. "I promised I would catch her." The final word breaks on his tongue and his hands clench into fists.

"And I promised that this life would be good for us! I promised her that we would be happier in this new world! But this world decimated her! This is not only on you, it's on me too!" I blurt out and Allie shifts at the yelling. She mumbles something in her sleep and frowns.

Tony and I go silent instantly and hold our breath as I stroke her hair calmly.

She stills and the mumbling stops much to our shared relief.

Allie cannot wake up now; we have no way to handle whatever she could be going through.

Tony and I look at each other, we both nod in an agreement to remain civil.

"She isn't dead and that is what we need to focus on; Allie isn't dead."

Tony looks at me and his face wrenches into that of despair.

I know what he's thinking: that this could be worse.

"Allie was tortured, tormented, r-r-" he can't get the word out, I can't even think it. "Assaulted, and then dropped thirty feet to her demise. Her hearted stopped and she died Gabie."

"I know! Anthony Stark I am painfully aware of every little wretched thing that happened to her. I felt her death for ten minutes, the longest ten minutes of my life."

Tony stops short and his broken gaze meets mine.

"We have to stop arguing about this."

"I'll call the team." Wordlessly pulls out Savin's phone, dials Natasha's number, and puts her voice on speaker.

"How did you get his number?" is the sharp question that comes just after the first ring.

"Natalie Rushman it's me Rose Hathaway," I greet, using our codenames so she knows it's really me. "We have Mrs Sunshine and we're heading for New York."

"Oh thank God," Natasha breathes out. "STEVE THEY HAVE HER!" In the background I can hear thundering steps and then comes Steve's voice.

"They got her? She's with them? They're coming?" he pants.

"Yes Steve, she's coming back to us," Natasha confirms. "We're at the tower already."

"Guys don't be relived yet," a voice calls and I frown. That sounds like Bruce. "Come see the tv, it's broadcasting again."

A minute of warbled voices passes before Natasha swears in Russian followed by a loud smashing noise.

"What?! What's wrong!" I demand.

"The broadcast, they can't take it down, Tony it's bad, it's really bad," Bruce explains and my heart seizes.

"You hold her close and you get here now," Natasha orders and the phone hangs up.

"You don't think the footage of her aired," I whisper.

"I didn't even think about the cameras, they were meant for the president," Tony replies and my breath hitches.

"Call Shield see if there is anyone who can take it down," I say and Tony nods.

He dials a different number and this time answers it himself.

Allie remains cradled in my arms, restlessly sleeping, and oblivious to any further harm.

My senses become unfocused and my surroundings melt away.

The shock of it all is getting to me.

"It's over. It's over, but it won't ever stop."

III

The second we hit a pier outside New York a sleek black car pulls up and Natasha runs out.

She sprints to me and sweeps Allie up into her arms, kissing her forehead and cooing in several languages.

"Oh my sweet Siren, my angel, what have they done to you?" she utters.

The shock is beginning to wear off and my own injuries becoming more evident. I stagger but before I fall strong arms wrap around me tightly.

"Steady Gabie." It's Clint, he's here.

"Clint? You're here?" I mumble weakly and lean into him heavily.

"Oh Gabs, oh Gabie," he whispers and bends down, bringing his arms under my legs, and picking me up bridal style. "My sweet Gabie."

"Gabs is new," I mutter and Allie my head to slump into his shoulder. The blood loss is disorienting now and the adrenaline is gone.

With no adrenaline I am left to try and grapple what happened and how I'll deal.

More importantly I seek to be bleeding out.

"I think I'm dying," I cough out. "Please don't let me die Clint."

"You will not die Gabrielle Trent."

"Mkay."

My eyelids weight heavily and I decide to give in, desiring the sweet release of thought.

III

All at once the sleep is gone and my mind flooded with adrenaline and fear.

Before I can get up or even see what's happening a sharp screech fills my ears.

The scream isn't normal, it's heightened and agonizing.

Crying out I place my hands over my ears and try to block the unbearable sound.

It's one of Allie's screams, but it isn't right, not only do I feel the pain but I feel the desperation and the fear. Allie is projecting her emotions in her scream.

"Allie!" I hiss and fall from my bed, clambering to her side. My ears are ringing and my head spinning, it's mind splitting to hear.

Tony, Steve, and Nat are keeled over holding their heads and gasping with dread.

"Allie! Stop Allie!" I call and reach out for her blindly.

Abruptly the screaming stops and my eyes open to watch Allie fall back limply. Next to her stand Bruce with an empty syringe in hand.

With opened eyes I can see the fire raging on her bed, spreading on the ground.

Automatically I hold out t hand and extinguish it all at once. My attention easily shifts back to Bruce.

"What the hell did you do?" I growl and lurch forward. Steve grabs me around my waist and pulls me back before I can hit him.

All our ears are bleeding and our minds ringing. Tears stain our cheeks, her pain is incomprehensible.

"It's a compound of sedative and liquid nitrogen," Bruce explains. "In her state she could kill us all without meaning too."

"So you stabbed her with a needle? Bruce I don't think I have to explain to you how traumatizing that probably was for her," I snap, referencing the broadcast.

Killian had a failsafe in place: he dies and everything recorded on the Siren of New York cameras is published. The broadcast played and the film was copied and reposted everywhere, as well as plastered over very social media and news outlet. Every second of Allie's torture shown to the world, shown to us, to me.

Bruce falters and the string falls from his hand. Killian used sedatives to keep her from contacting me, to heal over a burn, and to keep her defenseless against him.

"If she remembers this, if she accidentally hurts us again, she will never forgive herself," Bruce mutters and my rage softens.

"Well Brucie I didn't know you cared," I reply sardonically and lean forward to take Allie in my arms. The movement makes me hiss in pain as too much weight is placed on my shoulder.

Steve is there in a flash and puts a hand on my shoulder.

"I got her," he assures and I step back so he can scoop her up in his unnaturally big arms.

"Move her to my bed and we'll get rid of these burnt sheets," I grumble and slump over. "Bruce get more of that stuff and Tony set up an IV. We will take shifts with her and until I can see some level of peace in her mind we won't waken her."

My demand are definitive and not to be disobeyed. I'm the authority on Allie in this moment.

"So Allie becomes Aurora," Natasha muses and tucks the blankets around our Sleeping Beauty.

In Allie's mind all I can see is veiled turmoil, replaying memories, and utter anguish.

When she sleeps it's not on the surface and her consciousness is peacefully unaware of the distress in her subconscious.

I have to figure out how she can get past this, how she can move on, before I subject her to the mental torment of waking her.