Have you ever had hot shrapnel impale your body? Its not a life experience I suggest seeking out. Because it feels like exactly what it is. Burning hot pieces of sharp mettle being forced into your skin. It hurts like a mother trucker. Add that to the heat of the fires starting around you, the walls crashing down on you, and you have a pretty crumbing day.

I am going to die.

Damn.

Suddenly, there was a crushing weight on me, making it hard to breathe. I struggled to get free of it but it fought me. Claustrophobia, kicking in! NOT GOOD NOT GOOD!

"Leah, hold still!" The voice that spoke was deep and graveling. "It's okay, you're okay!"

My eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness and debris in the air, plus the darkness. I saw that what covered me was a huge grizzly bear.

"Eri-ah!" I gasped from the pain. It hurt too much to even scream. From the feel of it, a broken rib had just punctured one of my lungs.

"Leah?" Eric looked down at me with concern, his voice not his own. Suddenly another bomb went off. I felt the heat of it, but Eric's body protected me from the worst of it. Eric let out a ear shattering howl, but what caused him the pain I did not know.

Concerned voices range out over the radio, but I didn't know where it was.

"Brent, get Leah out of here." Eric grunted, lifting himself up.

Brent? Brent who?

I turned my head to see I wasn't the only one Eric was sheltering from the explosions. Beside me was the private who I tricked earlier in the basement. He wasn't in bad shape, considering the walls were falling down around us. His face was smudged with ash and dirt and there was a laceration on his forehead.

Brent nodded and helped me to my feet (though we had to stand bent over because the room was caving in). It hurt so bad, it made my head spin. I think my arm was broken as well. Brent began to lead me away, but Eric wasn't coming with us.

Plus, claustrophobia. Still not good.

"Eric, come on." I struggled to say.

Eric shifted back to human shape. There was a laceration running all the way down his back, and it was bleeding badly. The bear's hide protected him more than a human's would, but just barely. I also saw a large purplish red contusion on his abdomen, making me worry that he had massive internal bleeding.

He looked at me sadly. "I'll catch up in a bit Leah, but there's something I have to do first."

I grabbed his arm and held on tightly, my eyes holding his.

"Not leaving…without you."

"Leah, you don't understand. I have to get to their main computer. They have all this information on these mutants. They know how to find them and they're going to start all of this again. Right now they're sending the information somewhere else, but we can set them back by years if I can stop the computer!"

I shook my head and made my grip on his arm tighter.

"I'm the only one who can get to it. I can shrink down and get through the building."

"Antman…"

"Is currently unconscious as Giantman. I'm the only one, Leah."

Tears welled up in my eyes. This was a suicide mission! I pushed myself into his arms, biting back the pain. "Don't leave."

Eric looked at me sadly. In his eyes I saw that he knew he had a very small chance of making it out. He kissed me and held me softly. In my ear he whispered "I love you so much Leah. Don't forget me when I'm gone."

He then pushed me into Brent's arms "Brent, you owe me your life. Get her out of here in one piece, no matter what."

"Good luck." Brent said. He held me back when I tried to grab Eric again.

Eric nodded and blew me one last kiss before disappearing in the smoke.

"ERIC!"

Brent began to drag me away. "Come on, we have to get out of here. The last bomb is set to go in two minutes."

"Can't leave him!"

"Its his decision."

Like hell it is! You can't tell someone you love them and then run off to die! When you tell someone you love them, they get a vote in everything you do! It's a bond! He has no right to die!

I never even got the chance to say it back…

Brent decided that my attempts to go after Eric were slowing us down too much. So he said a quick apology before knocking me in the back of my head, making me go unconscious. When I came to, we were at almost outside the building. There was a gaping hole, showing the night. Brent sweated heavily as he tried to carry me further. He collapsed before we made it out.

"Cap! Get over here!" Angel yelled over the fighting as he zoomed towards us.

The world's going to hell and they continue to fight each other…

Cap scooped me up into his arms as Angel took Brent in his. Cap ran hard and fast. We barely made it to the shelter of the Quinjet before all the buildings on the base exploded. Superheroes and MRD closest to the buildings went flying from the force of the last explosion.

"Eric…"

Maybe he made it out.

But my heart told me he didn't.

xXx

Eventually the MRD surrendered and were rounded up. The higher ups escaped, of course. Those who were qualified tended to the wounded, and there were many. I was one of those with life threatening injuries (because apparently only having one working lung is bad) and Cap called in a few favours so that I could be taken by air ambulance to the closest hospital that specialized in massive trauma.

Dad flew with me, holding my hand. Weird. He's been held captive for months, being tortured and experimented on and I'm the one being comforted. Just like Dad, I guess, to need to be the hero instead of the victim. He told me everything was going to be alright and that he loved me.

I was hardly conscious for most of this. I kept going VSA and had to be resuscitated by the critical care paramedics in the helicopter.

The only part I remember clearly was when I gestured that I needed something to write on (I couldn't speak because I was intubated). When I had the paper and pen provided by a paramedic, I wrote in sloppy childish writing "Did Eric get out?"

Dad went pale looking at the note. When Dad goes pale, it can only mean bad news.

Dad didn't answer, instead he just looked out the window. He felt my desperate, pleading eyes on him. I begged him with my eyes to answer, trying to communicate that I needed to know. Dad sighed and stroked my hair.

"Eric saved a lot of people tonight, darl'n." He said softly. "He went out a hero."

I squeezed my eyes closed and tears ran from my eyes.

I rather have a living cowered than a dead hero.