Trepidation

James' head tilted. "Eliza…can I ask you something?"

A rush of adrenaline ran through my head. "What?" I swallowed.

James opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.

Alarms were sounding throughout the compound.

Our heads turned at the same time. The tree line— a serene view not two minutes ago— was clouded by thick grey smoke. But that wasn't what we noticed.

"Get down!" James shouted, pushing me to the ground. My face met the carpet, and he fell to cover me with his body. I screamed when bullets shattered the glass.

"FRIDAY, shield the windows now!" James ordered over the gunfire.

"Initiating defense measures!" FRIDAY replied. A metal barrier slammed down over the shattered window, shielding us from the relentless rain of bullets.

"Come on!" James commanded, pulling me up from the ground to follow him. The bullets didn't stop, but neither did the metal covers. They slammed down over the windows, one after another, clanging loudly through the chaos.

Unfortunately, one wasn't fast enough.

I screamed when the bullet pierced my calf, hitting the ground hard. James cursed under his breath, stopping just long enough to pick me up and keep going. My nails dug deep into my hand in an attempt to keep myself from whimpering in pain.

He ran down the hall to his room, threw open the door, and set me down on his bed. The windows had already been blocked by metal, but I could hear the battle outside. I ground my teeth together in agony, watching as he scrambled around his room searching for something. James ran out of his closet a moment later, an old t-shirt in hand.

"Press this to the wound, it'll stop it from bleeding," he insisted. "…too much," he added under his breath. He stepped away and rummaged through his bedside drawer. His hand pulled out a roll of medical tape. He prepared to wrap the t-shirt in place, but I stopped his hand.

"James, you have to go out and help," I told him. "I can do it on my own."

I watched as a thousand different emotions ran through his eyes. Fear was the most prevalent. He took in a shaky breath, his eyes flickering around the room. His stare fixated on the metal barricades. "The moment I leave this room, I'll give the command for the door to be locked. No one will get in, you'll be safe. I'll come back for you when it's over. Don't leave," he said, his tone more pleading than commanding.

I nodded seriously. "I won't."

"Good," he swallowed, eyes finally turning back to me. Our gazes locked, and I could see his hesitancy. But after a moment, it solidified into determination. Both hands fisted, he got up from the bed and strolled out of the room, shoulders locked in anger.

"FRIDAY, lock the door. No one gets in unless I say so," he ground out.

"Yes, Sargent Barnes."

The metal covering slammed over the door. Silence filled the room, but I could still hear the echoes of fighting. Machine guns, rockets, explosions. All things I'd written about before, but none that I'd ever actually heard. I wrapped my leg as fast as I could, my heart racing. After a few times around my leg, I tore the tape and secured it. The bullet in my leg was still searing, but I knew I'd have to ride out the pain until the battle was over.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, listening. That's all I could do. I couldn't help, I couldn't fight. I just had to sit and listen and worry about what was going on. Were they okay? Who invaded the base? How'd they find it? When the noises stopped, when the chaos finally ceased, I looked over at the clock on James' nightstand. Thirty minutes had passed.

I waited anxiously, watching the clock as the minutes ticked by. Two…three…five…ten…and he hadn't returned. Visions of James lying wounded on the ground filled my head, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get rid of them. Just as I considered limping to the door, the metal covering slid away, and the door opened.

James entered, his battered armor covered in dirt and a bloodstained rip on his right shoulder. I took in a sharp breath, but he held up his hand as he kneeled in front of me.

"Don't freak out, it's just a scratch," he stated calmly.

I nodded, a terrified shudder running through my entire body as I stared into his eyes. His left hand came up and smoothed my hair behind my ear. "Breathe in…breathe out," he whispered. "I know you've never been through this. Try to calm down. Everyone is okay, just a few scrapes. The danger is gone."

My eyes squeezed shut, trying to concentrate on his voice. It was gentle, soothing in the midst of the overwhelming anxiety. He repeated his instructions to breathe five more times before I could open my eyes.

He nodded encouragingly. "There you go. How's the pain?"

My eyes turned to the makeshift bandage on my leg. It was stained a gruesome scarlet.

James' eyes followed my own, and a deep frown fell onto his face. "You need to get that out— now." Before I could agree, he picked me up and strode out of the room. He walked quickly, maneuvering us in and out of the clusters of agents still running through the halls. We arrived in the hospital wing, only to find that it too was chaotic.

"We need a medic!" James called, setting me down on an empty bed.

Among the chaos in the room, Dr. Banner's head lifted. Recognition flickered through his eyes before he fought his way through the crowd toward us.

"What happened?" he demanded, unwrapping my handiwork as fast as he could.

James' jaw clenched. "Barricades didn't cover the windows fast enough— I was trying to get her somewhere safe, and a bullet got her leg."

Dr. Banner nodded, then made eye contact with me. "Any known allergies? Troubles with anesthesia?" he questioned hurriedly.

"No, none," I shook my head.

"Good," he nodded. "Because I gotta knock you out for this."

Before I could react, James had gone to stand between me and Dr. Banner. "You don't know how it could hurt her! You are not going to-"

"Listen, it's either that or she's awake while I pull a bullet out of her!" Dr. Banner shouted back. "She's a civilian! She's not trained to deal with pain like you and me. So unless you want this wound to get infected, then I suggest you get out of my way."

James stood still.

"James," I whispered. His head turned only slightly, keeping his eyes on Dr. Banner. "James, listen to me. I've had anesthesia before, I'll be fine. Let him do it."

An agonizing moment passed before he finally moved aside. Dr. Banner nodded gratefully at me before he ran over to get supplies. He brought back an IV, and I sucked in a sharp breath as he set up the needle.

"Don't worry, you'll be out before you know it," he told me quickly. "You won't feel a thing."

I nodded, though I knew my eyes were wide with fear. Seconds later, the needle was slipped into my skin.

But the next moment, the door slammed open to reveal a shaken Mr. Coulson. The noise in the room dropped to complete silence.

He held up an all too familiar object. "Whose purse is this?" he demanded. "We found a tracking device in it. So whose is it?"

The last thing I saw was James' disbelieving look in my direction.