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farfromstrange · 1 year

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Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-one: Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

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Summary: Hydra falls, but the victory is short-lived.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, ANGST, blood and gore, more mutants, hints at child abuse and sexual assault, trauma, child molesters get what they deserve, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

a/n: Publishing earlier and not as scheduled because Christmas is just right around the corner (and we celebrate on the 24th here in Germany) I wanted to give you this before that. Finally, the show-down is here, the climax, the thing we’ve all been waiting for. This ends on a huge cliffhanger because it connects directly to the next chapter. You’ve been warned. I wish those of you who are celebrating a merry Christmas! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. The next update will come Sunday night.

The hallway was empty. Except for the blaring alarm and the red lights, the long, sterile walls were void of all souls and sounds.

By the time Natasha reached the marked dormitories, Matt’s news about Eliza’s pulled stunt had already traveled. She deemed the emptiness of the hallway as suspicious. Her mission was to free whoever else Hydra kept trapped in the facility, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the position her friend had put herself in. Part of her wanted to let her ruin Viktor Volkov, she deserved to get revenge and he was more than deserving of a slow and gruesome death, but the rational part of her told her that Eliza was going to regret her choice if she ended up killing the man instead of bringing him to justice, and she wouldn’t be able to survive the guilt that came with it. So Natasha couldn’t let her do it, no matter how much she wanted to.

“Remember the mission, guys,” Steve reminded them.

“How? If Eliza is going to do what Matt thinks she’s going to do,” Clint prompted.

“We can’t focus on the mission,” Natasha finished for him.

“The mission was to find her, correct?” said the Captain. “So we’ll do that. Doesn’t matter if Matt lost her, we’re just going to search for her all over again, and then we’ll stop her before she can make the mistake of killing Volkov.”

“Matt?” she asked.

Only a grunt was audible on the other end. “Little busy,” he managed to choke out.

“Well, Cap is closest to her final destination, so I suggest he makes sure she doesn’t even come this far.”

“Copy that,” Steve replied.

Though when he turned around from his spot on the roof, the door flew open. Several guards flooded the limited space. He stared at the soldiers who stared back at him, half of them in shock and the other half expectant. They knew him, and most of Hydra feared him, but the people in front of him didn’t even move a facial muscle at the sight of him. Without his shield, he was just a man in Stars and Stripes.

“I’m Captain America,” he told himself. “With or without the shield.”

He often doubted that lately, not sure what to think or believe anymore after his whole life collapsed right in front of him and everything he had grown to know and love disappeared from him. At that moment though, he needed to believe that he was Captain America. He needed to believe he was a symbol, a fighter, and Hydra’s worst nightmare. He had to be strong for Eliza, he had to be strong for Bucky and everyone else who suffered at their hands. He wouldn’t roll over and die. He wouldn’t give up, that wasn’t his nature, no matter how defeated or how detached from the real Steve Rogers he felt.

Natasha only heard static on the other end of her earpiece, so she figured everyone was back to doing their jobs. Back to the mission. Focusing became a little harder, her worries being the only thing driving her down the hallway. She had to get to the fourth quadrant. She wanted to stop Eliza herself, Mission be damned. She needed someone who knew her better than anyone, someone who used to be her.

Though as she thought about it she realized, the second she turned on Tony and helped Steve escape, she distanced herself from Eliza and left her behind. The time when she had known her better than anyone was over. She had someone else who understood her in a way only a handful of people ever could, and he had never been like them before. Still, she trusted him with her life. She ran to protect him, she was willing to sacrifice her life for him, and that told Natasha all she needed to know.

She had to follow the mission. She had to do what she was told to do or all of this would have been for nothing.

Her fist tightened around the gun as she burst into yet another unoccupied room. The sheets were crumbled and clothes were strewn around; someone lived there, as did in the other dormitories, but no one was there. The place was cleaned out completely.

She pressed a finger to the earpiece. “The rooms are all clear,” she said. “So is the hallway, surprisingly. I think they pulled resources to find her.”

Clint was the only one who got her message. “Copy,” he said.

“Rogers?”

“Haven’t heard from him yet.”

“Alright, well, if he decides to make a sound, tell me. I’m heading down the hallway now, moving on to the training grounds.”

A pause. “Security seems higher there,” Clint stated.

“They’re all just passing through,” Sam corrected. “They’re looking for the breach while also trying to get rid of all the evidence. They know Eliza is loose.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you using the spy bird again?”

“His name’s Redwing.”

“I will not call that thing by its name.”

“Come on, he’s helpful. You can say his name. Redwing.”

“No.”

Natasha stopped. A single pair of footsteps came from the corner to her left.

The man stared right at her, seemingly as surprised as she was to see him. His clothes were pedestrian; he didn’t look like a soldier or a mad scientist. He was just a man, plain and simple.

“What are you doing here?" he asked.

She stammered, “I got lost.”

"This is a secure facility.”

“Really lost,” she said.

He gawked at her, she gawked back. They kept staring at each other until it got too awkward to continue.

“You’re not one of them, are you?” Her hold on the gun eased. If he wanted to kill her, he would have done so already.

He seemed misplaced and so did she. They had that in common.

He straightened his dirty jacket. There was a cut on his left cheekbone, his hair disheveled and his knees and knuckles scraped, but other than that he seemed healthy.

The man pointed a finger at her. “You’re not either,” he said.

“No, I’m…”

She remembered his face from somewhere.

“Wait, you seem familiar.”

“I feel like everybody says that these days.”

She cursed herself for realizing it too late. “You’re Anton Petrova.”

“Oh, you actually know my name,” he said.

“I saw your picture in the file you gave to Tony Stark. The file on your daughter,” Natasha said.

“Tony… oh!”

He twisted and turned, searching for something. She followed his movements with curious eyes. He held a small device in his hand, barely big enough to fit into a power outlet.

“I’m Natasha Romanoff,” she introduced herself swiftly.

“I should have figured you guys were coming too.”

“So you’re not Hydra, you’re here because Eliza sold you out.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“The lengths this girl is willing to go…” Natasha huffed. “Well, if you want to survive, I guess we should stick together. Things could get really ugly really fast, and this place isn’t made for civilians to make it out alive.”

“I’m not planning to stick around,” he told her.

His eyes finally caught onto what he was looking for. He attached the device to the keypad set into the wall. Sparks blew from the fuses. He typed in a series of numbers, then flicked a switch on the added extension. Natasha didn’t recognize the sequence, nor did she remember ever seeing such a device.

“I have the same goal as my daughter, only that I don’t plan to get out. She made the right choice to sell me out. I deserved it. I’m going to burn this place to the ground so Alina can finally leave this hell behind her. I should have never given her away. It was my fault she ended up here and now it’s time for me to face the music after I’ve run like a coward all these years.”

She pursed her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Like I said, blowing this place up,” he stated. Anton pointed to the mystery device. “I’m attaching this to every sensor in this building, overriding their security systems. There are bombs placed in certain areas around this complex. Those weren’t my doing, but back when they had taken me to get to my… to Alina, I heard them talk about additional safety measures in case anything went wrong.”

He stepped away from the keypad, admiring his work. Another one of the devices slipped between his fingers. They resembled slightly thicker keycards. Upon further inspection, Natasha realized that he had used pieces of metal from a broken computer to string together something new, something that could override even the most complicated code.

She frowned at his quick fingers. The question bothered her. “Did you bring that here?” she asked.

“Would you believe me if I said I made them from scratch in the past hour under the immense pressure of super soldiers trying to kill me?”

“No.”

“Then yeah, I took them with me.”

“Jesus…” Doing something like this required certain training that she doubted he possessed. “What are you?”

Anton shrugged. “Scientist and occasional spy.”

“Hm.”

“After you guys caused the alarm to go off, I managed to get out of my little cell and find my way to the control room. I figured out where they keep their fail-safe. I didn’t know what it was. I found the button attached to a series of explosives and put one and two together. This device overrides all their systems and reprograms the trigger to a certain time that I have set.”

“And when is that?”

He checked his cracked watch. “Twenty minutes,” he told her.

“Twenty minutes?” Natasha glared at him. “Your daughter’s still here somewhere. Twenty minutes aren’t going to be enough to get her out of here in time!”

“The trigger points are at each entrance that leads to the outside,” he explained. “The bombs are meant to stop anyone from leaving.”

“Then why would you want to trigger them?”

“They won’t see it coming, that’s why. It will give Alina, you, and your little friends enough time to act while I try to figure out how to burn this place to the ground. In my humble opinion,” Anton said and moved onto the next keypad at the end of the hallway, “I think they’ve got an even bigger charge hiding in their basement, but it’s not connected to the building’s system, so it has to be manually triggered. I intend to find that thing and blow this place five ways to Sunday once you guys are out of here.”

“You’ll die,” she argued.

He sighed, “Yeah, but Alina already believes me dead so it doesn’t matter. My job is done here.”

It was a noble display of his affection for his daughter.

Natasha rubbed her tired eyes. The stone was already rolling, she didn’t have much of a choice but to roll with it.

“Alright, well, I have a mission to finish so I can’t stick around. And if you say you want to stay, that’s you’re choice. Although the chances that you’ll survive are instantly zero if you do what you say you’re gonna do, so don’t say I didn’t offer an escape to you.”

“I know,” he smiled. “As long as you tell my daughter that her father loved her.”

“I will,” she told him.

“Thank you.”

She took an even bigger leap. “Do you know what happened to the people they kept here?”

Anton looked around. “They took them out back. If you have men outside, you should be safe.”

“Thank you!”

Natasha pressed down on her earpiece.

“The hostages are yours,” she said. “They’re coming out the back.”

“Copy,” Sam answered.

Anton smiled again, attaching his magical device to the keypad and flipping the switch once again. Sparks flew. “Save my daughter, Agent Romanoff,” he said.

She holstered her gun. “That’s what I intend to do.”

“Do your best.”

“If you knew me, you’d be aware of the fact that I never accomplish anything short of the best.”

He disappeared down the hallway with a knowing grin, granting her more time by not even caring if someone caught him. She set out to sprint the rest of the way.

“Guys, we have a surprise coming our way. We need to find Eliza now before it’s too late…”

“Well,” Clint piped up, “I would ask Rogers how far he is, but his comm seems to be malfunctioning.”

Natasha cursed under her breath. “They probably got to him too.”

“What about Matt?” asked Sam.

“Here!” he sounded from the other end. Something resembling pain laced in his voice. “I managed to knock them all out, now I just have to find a way out of here somehow.”

Natasha stood in front of the same problem. The glass doors were locked with thick metal covering them. “Seems we have the same problem, Matthew,” she murmured, kicking against it.

“Yeah, the doors won’t budge. I tried that.”

Of course, he heard her attempts to break through the steel. Rolling her eyes, she chose to try it with her shoulder next.

Matt sighed wearily. “Tried that too,” he said.

“What haven’t you tried?” she bit back.

“Anything a person with sight can do with a computer. I have no idea how that works, but the security system has to run somehow, right? Maybe you can override the lock Eliza put on these doors. I heard her push a button to initiate the lockdown. Not even the emergency exits are working anymore. I tried everything I could. We’re trapped.”

“How does she move around with the doors closed?” Sam asked the important question.

Natasha and Matt were more in sync than ever. “She’s blowing through them,” they said at the same time.

“Yeah, she’s probably bulldozing through them like a madwoman,” Natasha added. “Wouldn’t be the first time. Vandalism is her second name.”

Clint grunted, the swoosh of an arrow passing by his earpiece. “Try the override,” he said. “Batman seems to be onto something here.”

“Control room!” she blurted. “Yes! I have an idea. Matt, hold on! I think I just found the solution to our problem.”

“Hurry,” he told her, “Or I might start smashing my head into the door. I can’t lose her again,” the admission ran quietly. “I refuse to let her get away with this. And I won’t let her die just because she thinks it’s the right thing to do. So please, for the love of God, hurry up!”

Natasha found the room Anton mentioned with ease. She busted the door open with a satisfying squeal.

“Almost there,” she said. “I just need to find…” she pushed the only two blinking buttons.

The red lights stopped blinking, the alarm stopped blaring in the distance, and with a roar, the metal unlocked from the glass doors.

She caught a glimpse of the structure outside. The space around the building was littered with Hydra soldiers fighting against flying arrows and a man with metal wings, which sounded weirder than it looked.

“Barton, you still need the headlights?”

“Nope,” he replied. “Shut them off.”

She pulled the lever down. The ground turned dark. Only the spotlight was left.

“Thanks!”

She stepped out of the control room. “Matt,” she called out for him.

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to get Steve before I can get Eliza. He’s probably in trouble if he’s not answering. Can you search for her?” she asked. “The exits are all going to blow in twenty minutes and we need to have found her by then or she will have more of a reason to kill Volkov.”

He pushed himself off the wall. “Copy that,” he said.

“I trust you.” Coming from her, that was a compliment of the highest order.

The reservations she had had at the beginning vanished the second Eliza chose to go her own way. They were two people who loved her very much, and they needed to use that to their advantage. She couldn’t hate him even if she tried. If there was one thing he was more than capable of, it was finding Eliza and bringing her back safe. He wouldn’t stop before she was safe and sound in his arms. She needed to hold onto that.

Matt was so in love, he would blur all the lines to get to her. Honorable would be the word she would have used to describe him.

He expected the override of the lockdown to bring on more of the super soldiers that attacked him back at the west wing. His ribs were broken, probably, but he pushed through the sharp pain that tore through his lungs with every breath. He fought the men who were twice as strong as him, but if ‘watching’ Eliza fight had taught him one thing it was that super soldiers were just human too, after all. They had the same weak spots, only a higher tolerance. The serum didn’t turn them into something else, only enhanced what was already there. He used that knowledge to his advantage. As much as this new world blew his mind, it wasn’t much different from fighting the men Fisk sent for him.

Eliza made her way through the armies of men that tried to stop her without batting an eye. The wound on her shoulder pulsates numbly, though all she truly felt was rage. It fueled her determination.

The many guns and knives didn’t stand a chance against her. She stopped thinking and for once decided to follow the primal instinct that she had denied for a very long time. She let the unknown thing inside of her loose without another thought about it.

What she had been so scared of, became a part of her. No, it became her. She turned into the thing she was born to be. Not quite human and not quite alien. She was the most wanted in more ways than just one. Her blood held the power of an infinity stone, the most powerful elemental crystal that started at the dawn of the universe, and it molded with her DNA to the point where both could no longer be separated. She became one with it when she was born, her mind had just been twisted enough to hide the truth for so long, always controlled and caged in by someone who thought they knew better, selfish people who were afraid of what she could do.

She didn’t waste another thought about them, therefore allowing her body to restore almost as easily as her mind. As she put down all of her restrictions, a new life bloomed inside of her chest. She had never felt so full, never so complete.

Eliza made her way through the masses, sending her opponents flying away. Extending her hand toward the machine gun that was pointed her way, she thought about the butterfly symbolism she took from her childhood.

Ironically, saving a life made her father give her away. Butterflies are used as a metaphor for rebirth and evolution. She was the butterfly from her memories, broken down and alone, waiting for someone to save it and set it free. She had broken out of her cocoon and discovered her true beauty, her true abilities. Eliza was a butterfly, the very thing that ended her up in the grasp of Hydra.

The man cried out as his gun disappeared and turned into a swarm of bats. They flew straight at him, pecking his skin apart.

She kicked another soldier in the chest, into his partner. The two hit the wall behind them. She used the moment of surprise to bring half of the ceiling down on them. In her wake, several bodies littered the floor. The bats she had released disappeared back into the smoke dancing around her fingers.

The closed door didn’t pose as much of a threat. She placed her palm flat against the metal. Her veins released another surge of power. The lock cracked. She pushed harder against it. The pathway to the other building blew open at sheer force, electricity flickering. She was so close to her target now.

Then, the lights turned back on. She expected something like this to happen; her friends weren’t going to give up, not without a fight. Even though they knew Eliza did this with the thought in mind that a sacrifice might be out of the question, they still wanted to prevent her untimely death to tear them apart. She understood that, but the reality would only hurt them more if they kept holding onto her like that. She was long gone, broken beyond repair, someone they couldn’t help or cure. She had made up her mind. This was her choice, she would not let this end any differently. It was foolish of them to believe there was still redemption in the cards for her.

With the lights on full display, the Hydra soldiers believed they had an advantage. They could see her clearly, and possibly even anticipate her behavior. Cute, she thought. It was an honorable belief.

She stood in front of an army she could not count. The anger manifested, becoming a part of her. Ever since she could remember, anger, pain and despair sustained her. She learned how to live with this constant ache and emptiness in her chest, a hunger that could never be satisfied, keeping her on edge always. Now that she got the answers she wanted, now that she knew who she was born to be and why Hydra was really after her, that emptiness had shrunk to the size of an atom. Her soul no longer felt pointless. With the knowledge came contentment.

She struggled to accept the changes at first, but after allowing them to take over completely, she had never felt more at peace with the inner stranger. At the same time, she had also never felt more at peace with dying than she did at the thought of finally tearing down the walls that caused her so much pain in the first place, of destroying the man who destroyed her life all those years ago.

The feeling that remained though was anger. The anger burned hotter and brighter through her veins than it ever had. The truth did not only bring peace but it brought dissatisfaction with how the world turned out to be. She knew there were variables to eradicate before the peace could make a nest, but she also knew that when those variables were gone, she might also be, and then the peace didn’t matter anymore, so she could fall for the anger and not feel any regret because her life was supposed to turn out this way. Content with her real identity, but enraged at the people of her past, ready to remove them from the narrative for good. She would help others more than herself, and that made the small part of her that still wanted to be a hero swell with pride.

This was her destiny. The universe dictated it to end this way, the same way it dictated for her to become who she was. The stone could have killed her, instead, it chose her. Her DNA absorbed it and she survived while her mother didn’t, which couldn’t have been an accident but something the stone wanted. She felt it, she couldn’t describe it, but the truth lay in the palm of her hand. She understood more now than before, possibly even everything. Suddenly, everything made sense. The world lay at her feet, the knowledge was entirely hers.

She had the power to destroy and create worlds, and that alone was dangerous. She chose not to be dangerous anymore. One last time to set the record straight, to make the world right and the hourglass to stop losing sand, and then everything would be fine. She would make it fine for the people she cared about. There was a lot of making-up she had left to do, and this was part of the bargain she struck with the voice in her head. She would do this and then she would be done. She didn’t have to like it, the truth often hurt more than it felt good.

As Eliza stood across her enemies, she found herself wondering what Viktor did to them to have them so incredibly at his mercy. But those were just super soldiers, they weren’t enhanced like her. He knew they stood no chance against the person she had become. There had to be a bigger plan at play here, especially since the way to the fourth quadrant had been way too easy.

The knife soared through the air. Before it could hit her already mangled collarbone, she lifted her hand. It stopped mid-air, frozen in place. She waited for them to act. They didn’t.

“For people who are supposed to protect their boss,” she cooed, “You are doing a terrible job at trying to stop me.”

She snapped her fingers and the knife disintegrated.

“Anyone else? No?”

Finally, one of them hit after her with his baton. She ducked under it, punched him in the ribs, and stole the weapon to hit him over the head. She copied Matt’s technique to throw the baton across the room, hitting at least three men in the process. That seemed to wake them from their trance.

Soon enough, she found herself surrounded by five men, throwing fists and knees until they were bloody on the floor. Someone grabbed her from behind. She yelped. Strong arms pulled her back, hitting the wall. She regained her composure by the time they met the hard stone. She brought her elbow back, breaking his nose. Next, she pulled his head down so she could push herself up, swinging over his body with her feet crawling across the wall. The position made it possible for her to jump onto her next opponent’s shoulders, smashing his skull in from above. She went down with him, bracing her fall on her knees.

Her chest heaved. This was a lot more complicated than she thought.

The men mistook her posture as submission. She chuckled. The smoke rose in front of her, building a wall. She pushed it toward them. The force knocked them off their feet, sending them across the hallway. The overwhelming sense of agony kept them awake but paralyzed. She rose back to her feet with her palms faced upward.

“Well, that was embarrassingly easy,” she said.

The man next to her stumbled back up. Before he could make his advance, she punched him hard.

“Stay down!”

He passed right back out.

Rounding the next corner, she was met with an empty hallway. The feeling that something else might be coming for her worsened. The clock in her head sped up.

A rumbling started in the distance. The floor vibrated. It lasted for three seconds, then stopped. She tilted her head. The vibrations picked up again. Another three seconds, then it was over. She shook her head. Probably another army heading for her, perhaps with the orders to kill upon seeing the destruction she left in her wake on the security cameras.

Viktor was so close, yet so far away. Who knew if he was even still in the building? With this little security, she doubted it, and her anger only got worse. She needed him dead. She needed to kill him, not watch him get away. Not this time.

Just as she was about to set off into a sprint, the ground shook again. It wasn’t soft this time, the entire building jumped with the force of an explosion. She fell forward, the blow hitting her from behind. Smoke swallowed the hallway she came from whole, removing any sign of an exit. Fire crackles. She could hear shouting and screaming, her nose noticing a whiff of the fresh air from outside. What time was it? Her ears rang.

Someone blew up all possible exit points to keep whoever was inside trapped by the debris. With enough force, she could knock it back and get out, if she could figure out where the explosion happened. It wasn’t directly at the door she had torn down, that was for sure. Still, the pathway that had led her there was completely gone, leaving her trapped in the empty hallway with only one way to go. One way that would lead to her definite death, no doubt.

She lifted herself to her knees, groaning at the growing stiffness of her muscles. Footsteps approached. She looked up. The electricity before her crackled. The powerline hit the linoleum floor.

Eliza stood up slowly, rising to her full height, which seemed to be only half of her opponent. The man from her apartment stood before her with all his might, his body radiating dangerous charges of electricity, voltages that could easily kill any human being in a heartbeat.

He had upgraded. It was just him, no one else. Viktor’s only successful experiment since she left, and even then he didn’t manage to create someone strong enough to win against her. He could stall time though.

She sighed. “Didn’t you get enough the first time?”

He stared at her with dead eyes.

“Right, I forgot, you don’t speak.”

His fist clenched and unclenched, the white lightning bolts spurting from his fingertips.

She tilted her head, he tilted his. Neither of them moved.

“Where is he?” she asked.

Once again, he didn’t speak. He balled his fist, bringing it down on the ground. The volts traveled from his spot toward hers at inhuman speed. Not sure what would happen if it hit her, she copied his motion, slapping her hand down. The smoke caused the floor to bulge between them, a dune of sand shooting up and filtering the electricity.

He huffed the first sound she heard out of him. The red sand dissolved, returning to the white floor it had been before.

Her fast reaction changed something in him. He realized he couldn’t fight her, even if he wanted to. He couldn’t even catch her off guard.

The man reached for the batons in his suit. She waited for them to extend as he flicked them at his sides. Instead of hard plastic or metal though, the sticks turned into bendable whips running on high voltage. They snapped against the floor. The electricity crackled, louder this time and the white lightning blinded her. She could feel the energy in the air, tickling the tiny hairs on her arms. Her powers responded to the change in the atmosphere, itching under her skin, her protective shield.

The first attempt to hit her, she dodged. The whip went straight past her, extending and then shrunk back to its wielder’s size.

She flipped over the next. He was far more agile than before. Viktor must have put him through the works to prepare him for this. She was almost impressed at his dedication to pushing her limits. He ruined this stranger’s life as he did hers to fit his agenda, all because his most precious experiment broke his heart and crushed his pride.

The smoke coming from the hallway seemed like the perfect opportunity. She willed it toward her with just her mind, using her glowing hands only when it reached her feet. She let the still gray smoke rise around her, disappearing behind it. The power lines reached for her. She opened her arms.

In her hands, the smoke turned into a dangerous weapon. She shaped the smoke into her version of a whip. It wrapped around him, immune to the voltages seeping out of the man’s body. If anything, it only recharged, fueling her powers. She grinned. The smoke tied around his throat, forcing him up. He levitated over the ground, reaching for his neck in surprise.

Eliza dissolved the smoke, realizing his lips turned blue. He dropped to the ground, catching himself on one knee.

She pulled his weapons toward herself before he could reach for them again. Midway, he caught one of the whips and pulled against her powers. She was left with only one while he held the other, staring straight into her eyes with his new white ones. He was completely dead. He was breathing and his heart still beat, but other than that there was no life left in his soul. Perhaps that was why she couldn’t reach for him. He didn’t feel anything. She couldn’t manipulate what wasn’t there.

“What did they do to you?” she repeated the same question she asked him that previous night.

When he went after her with the whip next, she did the same. The charges met in the middle, causing an epic blowout that sent both of them hurdling back.

Eliza hit the wall with the back of her head. The slight sting was followed by a hot, wet feeling getting stuck in her hair. She groaned.

Motherfucker.

As if getting hit over the head somehow restored his speech center, he finally opened his mouth for the first time. What came out though made her boiling blood run cold.

“On the edge, you mustn’t lie,” he sang.

She flinched, the jolts running through her body entirely too much. Her mind was fragile after everything they put her through in just the past hour.

Without Viktor, that song would have never come to be.

“Or the little red demon will come.”

She didn’t want to believe it at the butcher shop. Back then, the song only told her that Hydra was back. The memories she connected with it were dark and twisted, not even Mueller could match up to it. She had felt so many feelings at once, she didn’t look further. Deep down, she knew from the beginning that Viktor was behind this.

Because of this song, this stupid song.

“And will nip you and will nip you on the tum, Tug you off into the wood, underneath the willow root.”

Her mouth parted. She lost the little self-control she had left. With an agonizing scream, she jumped at him, electricity be damned. She hit him, grabbed his face with her hand, and forced her anger down into his soul. His veins glowed as she boiled him alive. He might have been emotionally dead, but his body could still feel everything.

She thought about every cell and atom in his body tearing itself apart, putting itself back together, then scrambling again. His attempt to electrocute her only gave her a boost.

If he couldn’t do it with his powers, he would do it with his fists. He fought against the pain, bringing his head forward to hit her chin; she was eye-level with him now. She lost hold of his face. He used that to punch her in the ribs, then her nose, and lastly, her throat.

She jammed a knife into his thigh from behind. He cried out.

Everything that happened after, Eliza watched from afar as her body reacted to the commands of a mind that wasn’t hers. The song kept playing on repeat in her mind. All of her morals bled out of her, lost somewhere on the floor along the way. She no longer cared, she should have stopped doing so a long time ago. Life mattered nothing, it no longer served a purpose to her. Not just hers, and life. She was done asking for forgiveness or permission. She was done pretending to be the golden child when she was anything but.

They wanted her to be the villain so badly, so she would give them what they wanted.

On the edge, you mustn’t lie.

She forced him to his knees in front of her, startled by the brutality and unable to focus on anything other than her hold on him, physically and mentally, and the red eyes staring into his from where she had his head tilted back.

Or the little red demon will come.

She pulled the knife out of his thigh. Oh, that stupid song. She set the blade to where his earlobe stopped at the side of his neck.

And will nip you and will nip you on the tum, Tug you off into the wood, underneath the willow root.

The crimson disappeared, and left behind was only the eye color she was born with. She wanted him to see her like a person, not a mutant. This wasn’t the stone acting, it was her. It was the person the song had been rewritten about.

She would give him what he wanted. She would prove him right while also turning into the one thing he feared most. The ruthless, out-of-control soldier escaped him. The one thing that wouldn’t dance to his music anymore, and that was his greatest enemy.

Eliza buried the blade deep in his jugular and cut. She slid the knife through his flesh, listening to it squish around the sharp edge, and sliced his aorta in two.

The blood squirted from the vessel. He choked on it. The red painted the white walls dark, some of it staining her face, flooding the palms of her hands. His blood was sticky and glued her fingers together. She tasted copper on her tongue, some of the dirt that was left on his skin mixing with the thick liquid. His pulse vanished underneath her fingers as even the last drops of blood were squeezed from his motionless heart.

He fell out of her grasp, dead weight on the now slippery floor.

She breathed heavily. She should have been scared of herself, she should have covered herself against the wall and just let them take her. Anything was better than turning into the person she loathed. Though as she caught sight of her face in the reflective tiles, she felt nothing.

Her body remained numb even when even more Hydra soldiers came around the corner, having realized that even Viktor no longer had a way out with the exploded exits, and now it was on them to restrain her. They probably watched what she had done, they had watched all emotions drain from her eyes as she drained the poor man of his blood.

All she did was wipe her face and stare at them, her eyes set with determination. She threw the blood-covered knife in their direction, hitting one of them in the throat. She didn’t care.

The voice in her head screamed for her to stop. She stumbled over unconscious bodies and spilled blood. By the time she had reached the last man standing, using her powers to paralyze him, the voice had given up. She was only a faint buzzing in the back of her mind.

The last door in the quadrant flew off its hinges. With the walls made out of steel, the room almost looked like a bunker straight out of a war movie.

Eliza tossed the remaining soldier’s unconscious body at his feet. “I believe this belongs to you,” she said.

She stood across from Viktor, her clothes drenched in someone else’s blood and sweat, and her usually bright eyes had turned almost black in the artificial light.

He stared at her with something that could only be described as a mixture of adoration, impression, and pure, unbridled fear. He didn’t get scared often, if not never. This was a big accomplishment she had to note in her books of unlikely scenarios that have become true.

His hand clenched around the walking cane. He was only superior in height, nothing more. His stance was supposed to look intimidating, make what he had worked for him, but she only felt sad for him when she saw how desperately he tried to intimidate her.

“What did you do?” he asked eerily calmly, motioning to her clothing.

She shrugged. “There is more where that one came from.”

There was a whole control panel behind him, security cameras and microphones covering the entire facility. They were all working. He knew what she had done. He watched her. He probably applauded her for turning into a monster again, too. Though as soon as it was him in the line of fire, he suddenly felt so inferior.

“I told you, I’d get out,” she said to him. “The way you’re looking at me right now tells me you didn’t have faith in that, but here I am! I outsmarted you again. I outmatched you again. Doesn’t it get tiring to lose against me over and over again, and still think you can win?”

He chuckled. “You’re here, aren’t you? I’d take that as a pretty big win.”

“I’m here to kill you.”

“Are you sure about that?” he clicked his tongue. “I don’t think so. I think you’ve felt the thrill of killing again and now you’re not so sure what to do with me anymore because you have realized that you miss this life, after all.”

Eliza swallowed the bitter taste of the words left in her mouth. “You disgust me.”

“God, if you could see yourself. It’s truly victorious. For a moment there I doubted my abilities. I thought that maybe I was wrong to put my faith in you back then. I wasn’t,” he said. “You will always be my perfect little girl.”

“You don’t own me, fuck you!”

“Oh, malyshka, I will always own you. You’re mine. Running away doesn’t make you any less a part of me.”

“You made me think that this is what love is supposed to be like,” she said. “You made me think that being used and abused is all that I deserve, that I was only worth it when put into a cage. You made me believe that men can do whatever they want with me and speaking up against it is a bad thing. And you made me believe that everyone that wasn’t you could never love me. I was never yours, you just wanted me to be your property and when I fought back, you punished me until I was entirely at your mercy. But that’s over now! I have my mind back. I know now that I didn’t deserve what you did to me. There are people who actually love me, and because of you, I can never experience what it’s like to feel such devotion because you broke me. You made me believe I was unlovable so I became a loveless monster.”

Viktor only laughed.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Eliza inched closer. “Are you proud that you have ruined so many children’s lives?”

“I mean…” he trailed off. “It worked out in the end, didn’t it? You’re the most powerful thing to ever come out of Hydra. You should be proud of yourself. You’re a monster. You’re a legacy. Think about what we could do,” he said, “together.”

She scoffed, “You think saying those things will make me fall for you again? Well, it won’t happen. I’m done with you, Viktor. Your words mean nothing to me now.”

“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”

“That depends,” she asked, “are you?”

“I know where I stand. You say you do, but I doubt that. If you really wanted to kill me, you would have foregone your little speech. That’s not what I taught you.”

“You took away my childhood,” her fingers began to glow, “and you ruined all that I am. What’s enough is enough. I want my girlhood back, and I want to give everyone whose lives you ruined here in the years while I was gone to get the same opportunity.”

“Oh please, you were too mature to even be considered a girl.”

“I was a child!” She cried out. “I was a child and you took that away from me! You took my pride and my innocence and my… my body, and that is something I will never forgive you for. While you’re alive, I will never know peace. And you’ve never even deserved the air you breathe in the first place. You’re the monster, I’m not. So this place can crash down on me, I don’t care, as long as it buries you with me. I’m going to die sooner or later anyway. But I will not stand by and watch you do this to anyone ever again.”

“We both know that no matter what happens, I will always get back up again.”

“Not when I can help it,” she said.

Viktor tapped the cane down in time with his laugh. “Here’s the thing,” he said, “I still don’t believe you have the guts to kill me.”

“I’ve already killed one man today.”

“You can’t kill me because deep down, you still feel love for me. I raised you, after all. I am your father. I’m the only man who understands what you need.”

Eliza cut him off, “I have a father! He might have been a shitty one and he was never there for me, but he had my best interest in mind, always. And you’re not him. You don’t have the heart to be a father, let alone love someone the way you claim to. This is not love, this is manipulation. I know who I am now and I won’t let you take that away from me again. I will no longer grant you that power.”

“You say you have so much fire inside of you.” He opened his arms, shrugging. “Where is it, if you’re not scared?”

She clenched her fists. “I promised that I will end you once and for all, and I meant it.”

“You promised a lot of things. Right now, I think you’re just stalling. You can’t act without a clear order, so when I tell you not to kill you, I know for certain that you won’t.”

“Why?” she challenged.

“Because you like to please,” he stated. “Most importantly, you like to please me. You don’t want to disappoint me.”

She gnawed on her bottom lip. “You have a pair on you!” she said. “You think I’m still like that? That I’m still your prisoner, even after all these years?”

“Am I wrong? I hear you talking, but I don’t see you acting on any of your promises.”

He grew cockier by the second. The less she did, the more confidence he gained. She was only feeding into his ego.

Eliza wasn’t sure why she hadn’t jumped at him yet, why she returned to talking rather than following through with her plan. She had been so certain. Staring into his face though, she found herself back in a different world. She saw a different person. She saw the man who ruined her life while at the same time, she saw the man she owed her life to. It was twisted. She hated her mind for falling back into old patterns.

“You say you’ve become who you’re supposed to be. I say you’re wrong,” he said. “I think you’re scared of unfolding your true potential, still, so you blame me for everything that’s wrong with your life when in reality, it’s you who’s wrong.”

She rolled her eyes, staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to hide her tears. They were a sign of weakness, proof that he was right and it would make his attitude only worse.

“Look around you!” his voice bounced off the walls, hitting her right where it hurt. “Ever since you ran away in a pathetic attempt to redeem yourself, all that followed has been death and destruction. Every person who decides to get close to you gets hurt. And somehow that’s my fault?”

Her nails dug into her palms.

“You blame me because you can’t look the truth into its very honest eyes. You’re the problem! You always have been. It’s not me who has made you a monster or unlovable, you were just born that way. You always get just what you deserve, yet you’re never satisfied with the outcome, so instead, you blame those who only want to help you. While you’re so sad about the lives you’ve ruined, you forget that there is someone who would never judge you for who you are; me,” he said.

“I’m the only one who can ever truly love you because I understand the kind of person you are. Whether you like it or not, we are the same. Your father brought you here because I’m the only one who can control the storm inside of you and give you the power your body craves. No one else can show you the kind of tough love that you need, the absolute devotion that you deserve. Respect and guide you all at the same time. I care about you enough to tell you the truth about who you are and not tell you silly little lies about the goodness of your heart. I think you know better than anyone that there is no such thing when it comes to you, and that hope is fragile and only hurts you when it turns out to be untrue. Emotions are a distraction, easily manipulated, and distractions will only keep you from rising to your true potential. Do you know who taught you that? That was me. I made you into something that’s supposed to understand the fragility of emotions better than anyone, so I thought you knew better than to let vengeance control you, blind you, and turn you into a shell of the woman you were before. Physically you might outmatch me, but your mind is holding you back. Your conscience is making you weak, little one, and it’s making me disappointed in you.”

His eyes spoke the same language as his words. The color darkened, glazed over with the sheen of disappointment. He looked her up and down as if she were worth far less than him. Her heart screamed. She hated that look. She needed him to stop looking at her like that. He made her weak in the knees, playing with the switch that would have her bowing at his feet in no time if he asked her to.

Why did she think this was such a good idea? She couldn’t control herself around him. She turned into a robot waiting for its master to push the right buttons. When he visited her before, she thought she could do it. She thought she could face him and make him suffer for what he did to her. He deserved to burn for the hell he put her through. She knew all of that and yet, as she stood across from him, all she wanted was to fall to her knees and cry to him about how sorry she was. She wanted his respect, she wanted him to take care of her and give her the same kind of attention that used to sustain her. She wanted to feel important again, not empty and useless and with the world out of her control.

The power she felt when killing the soldier who attacked her was all too familiar; scary but familiar, and the familiarity seemed more important than anything else at that moment. No one else truly understood her, he did. He didn’t run, he didn’t shy away, and he never tried to change her. He was only there to guide her the way.

Perhaps he hadn’t been that bad, after all.

Eliza squeezed her eyes shut. No, this was exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to fold, he wanted her to run back into his arms so he could escape and fix whatever she broke to keep his empire strong and healthy. He wanted the world, knowing she could help him get what he wanted in a heartbeat, and once she came to him voluntarily, the upper hand would be his forever. Because if she joined him out of her own free will, she proved him right, and he could twist her mind to the point where all she would be was his slave. She would be his pet, his everything, and he would use her weaknesses to his advantage, the same way he would use her powers to destroy the world and make it seem like he did it all alone.

He would get his pleasure from her, would use her to get ahead of everyone and everything, and then he would only continue kicking her further into submission until Eliza was no longer there. She would only be the number eight, not a real person, merely a number on a list of hundreds.

He took everything. He took her childhood, her pride, and her girlhood. He took her innocence, he hurt her and he broke her down into tiny little pieces that weren’t glued together quite yet, but she wanted to try. She wanted to be whole again. If she fell for him, all of the fightings would have been for nothing.

Eliza gnawed on her tongue. She couldn’t listen to him. She couldn’t let him destroy everything Natasha helped her work toward. She wouldn’t let him take away her dignity, not anymore, not if it killed her.

As much as she craved to be his again, she realized that it was a twisted need he imprinted into her brain. She wanted to be submissive, to serve, simply because she grew up under his control. She learned how to fight back, she had to stick with that, not return to the helpless girl she used to be. She was better than that.

He was a dangerous man – many were like him, trying to take whatever they wanted however they wanted, with manipulation being their best skill. He wasn’t right with what he said. He was the monster, not her.

She had to remember that. She had to stop doubting everything and remember the plan. Always remember the plan. She was strong enough to fight this. Just because her mind was fragile didn’t mean she had to endure his words as weapons. She could fight him. If killing him hadn’t been a clear option before, it sure as hell was now.

Viktor began to walk around his half of the room, cane hitting the floor at a condescending pace. The grin sat firmly on his lips, sour and ready to poison her. He’d almost had her right there.

“I just found a way to restrain you so you become more than the wreck your father left you to be,” he told her. He made it sound so easy, so real, so truthful. “I saved you, I made you something. Everything that’s happened in the past seven years was because of you, not me, but you alone. The things you ruined, you ruined with your own decisions. You just like putting on a mask and pretending nothing is your fault. Though who else would be at fault for your actions if not you? The past doesn’t exactly dictate your behavior. Not anymore, at least. Trauma doesn’t make you a terrible person. I didn’t have a hand in any of it, nor did Hydra. This is all on you.”

Eliza waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She couldn’t let him see her bleed.

“You are blessed with a curse that started the day you were born when your mother died because she chose your life over hers. Even her, you killed. I guess you were just born for the cause, that’s why we got along so well.”

Her teeth bared. “No,” she growled, “you don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to talk about my mother and blame me for what happened.”

She unclenched her fists to reveal the crimson smoke dancing in her palms.

“You have no right to act as if you know me because you don’t. What you’re doing is gaslighting, and you’re right, my heart is far from good, but I’m only half the monster that you are, and that already makes me so much better than you because I actually care about people,” she said. “I refuse to let you manipulate me anymore. I’m done.”

Her veins filled with newfound energy.

“You don’t get to destroy who I am!”

Viktor sighed. “What are you doing?”

She raised her arms. “Making true to my promise.”

He launched at her, but the ball of red hit him in the chest before he could even reach her. He flew back. The walls around them crumbled. She took them apart inch by inch, leaving behind a crimson wasteland made out of sand and fire.

He knelt before her, holding his aching stomach. His eyes were blown wide. She walked up to him dangerously slowly.

“People always ask me what’s going on in my head,” she said. “I suppose this is not what you expected to see…”

“Please, you don’t want to do this,” he begged. He actually begged her.

“This?” Eliza looked around herself. “No, you’re right, I don’t want to do this. I could make you feel pain until your heart stops. I could throw you off a cliff that I made up or I could drown you in the sand. I could burn you alive. I could make you look your deepest, darkest fears into the eyes,” she grabbed him by the throat, pulling him up, and the world around them changed into the ruins of a burned-down building, “And then I’d sit back and watch while you die.”

He hit the ground with a huff. The sand burned under his fingers, back in the wasteland she created. He was sure, this had to be what hell was like. With every inch of fire, yet freezing at the same time. Time didn’t exist and there was no sunlight.

“I could do this,” she said, and something strange wrapped its hands around his heart, squeezing the organ and draining it of all the blood it had to give. “Or I could do this.” Roots broke from the ground, tying around his limbs and his neck, hoisting him up to his knees. “But…” as fast as the world had changed, they returned to the bunker-like room. “I won’t.”

Viktor toppled over, too exhausted to hold himself upright any longer.

“I won’t kill you,” she paused to catch the momentary hope in his eyes, only to crush it under her boot, “like this. I want to kill you with my bare hands. I want you to feel as humiliated as I did with your hands all over my body, and I want you to feel every last bit of my pain while I watch you die the slowest, most agonizing death I can think of. And then, when you’re dead, I will make sure everyone in the world knows about the horrible things you did to children in your precious little white room so no one will care about your existence ever again.”

Before he could ask what she meant by that, her fist collided with his jaw. He grunted. She didn’t hold back with her force. Over and over again, she planted her knuckles on his face, breaking the skin. She broke every last bone in his face and while he struggled, he gave up fighting after the third hit. His body was on fire. He was in so much pain, he wasn’t sure where his own started and hers ended.

Blood coated her already bloody hands. Her boot collided with his ribs, breaking every single one of them. His leg cracked under the force of her stepping on it. He was only a mess of broken, mangled bones on the floor, blood pooling around him, and his kidneys actively bleeding into his stomach. She avoided his windpipe for now, not ready to watch him die just yet. Watching him cry, wheeze and writhe in pain was so much more satisfying. Feeling the fear radiating off of him, she swallowed it. She was so alive.

Every last thing he did to her, the things she could remember at least, and perhaps those she knew about subconsciously, she poured into her punches, and letting out all of her anger had never felt more satisfying, never better. She wasn’t supposed to feel this way, even though she accounted herself the right to whatever it took to destroy him when all of this started. He deserved to die and she deserved the honor of doing it herself.

Right and wrong blurred together. None of it mattered as long as Hydra would be out of the picture when she was done.

I hate you. You ruined my life. I loathe you.

She only realized she was screaming when she ran out of breath, her throat aching and her cheeks wet with tears. Her knuckles were bruised, the different blood types mixing. She could already feel a rash coming on.

He inhaled sharply, his lungs close to collapsing.

“What,” he choked out, “changed your mind?”

She growled, baring her teeth. Her fists rained down on his face once more. She cried out when her bones started to ache from the torture. The pain was oh-so-sweet. She deserved it the same way he did. She needed it, she needed the pain to be reminded that this was real, that this was truly happening.

Watching the life slowly drain from his eyes had victory blooming in her chest.

The last hit, she directed toward his throat. Her elbow was in the air, fist pointing in his direction. She was ready.

Someone grabbed her from behind. Too focused on the blood-thirsty haze that had her vision and mind clouded, she didn’t realize until the force pulled her back and into the air easily. She gasped, fighting against the hold. Part of her hoped it was Matt. She wanted him to stop her before she could drive herself deeper into the snow.

The hand around her throat reminded her that it wasn’t Matt. She would have recognized his arms instantly and this wasn’t him. Eliza brought her head back, breaking the man’s nose.

“You are a pain in my ass!” he said.

She turned to look at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she retorted.

Ivan stood across from her, alive and well, not even a scar other than the one she left on his face, on his body.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

He shrugged. “Death is a social construct.”

“Ivan, get the hell out of-“

“Not when you’re trying to kill the man who gave you life,” he snapped.

“I won’t stop,” she said.

“I thought you were going to say that.” He sighed, slipping a knife from his sleeve. “That’s why I came prepared.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “You seriously want to fight for him? The man treated you like a piece of meat!”

“At least he loved me!” His voice echoed. “And he loved you too, but you have absolutely no respect for the people who raised you.”

“Hydra didn’t raise me, you turned me into a murderer. Why would you protect him, Ivan? Are you really that deranged?”

“I’m not protecting or fighting for him,” he told her. “That man could not matter less to me. No, I’m doing this for Hydra. Now, you might have a perfect family to go back to, but I don’t, and I refuse to let your greedy ass take the one good thing in my life away from me. We’re stronger than you think.” He jabbed the knife at her. She dodged his attempt. “Just because you kill one of us doesn’t mean we will fall. Cut off one head, more shall grow in its place. That hasn’t changed.”

She grabbed his wrist, twisting it until the knife fell out. He grunted. She expected him to punch her. The adrenaline was high, so she barely felt it.

“If it weren’t for Hydra,” she panted, “you could have become a good person.”

Ivan chuckled darkly. “Then I’m glad Hydra took me. Hero’s are so boring.”

“Oh, honestly, you know what?” She hit him, pushing him back until his back hit the wall, and then she punched him again, this time in the stomach. “Fuck you!”

He wheezed, “We used to be such a great team, what happened?”

“We were never a team,” she bit back.

His push sent her flying across the room. He towered over her then, pointing his gun at her head.

This wasn’t how she planned to die.

“You and your father have been a pain in my ass for the last time, Alina.”

She frowned. “My father?”

“Oh, and your superhero friends? Yeah, they’re all trapped outside now with over a dozen very dangerous, very mutated super soldiers waiting to get their first kill in.”

“What-“

“I’d suggest helping them, but I don’t think you will be getting out of here alive anytime soon.”

The thought of her friends fighting for their lives was more important to her than the fact that her father was somehow brought into the mix. Ivan didn’t know what he was talking about. She didn’t care, it wasn’t part of the plan.

Eliza kicked at his wrist. The gun tumbled out of his grasp and onto the floor. She used the moment of surprise to jump back to her feet. He reached for her, but she ducked and just as he was about to retrieve another weapon, the full charge of her powers hit him.

She grabbed his hair from where he lay, looking deep into his eyes. Breathing into his ear, she spoke again, “Don’t try to stop me again,” she said, “or I won’t hesitate to kill you and bury you side by side with daddy in your own backyard.” His skull collided with the steel, painting the world black and drowning him in unconsciousness.

Time was short. She took his gun, ignoring the burning in her chest, the need to strangle him and watch as he struggled to breathe until death. Viktor peeked up at her through swollen eyes. He wheezed something inaudible.

The safety was off and her finger rested on the trigger. She only had to pull it. One more second and she would be free. He would die instantly.

Then why was it that she couldn’t bring herself to follow through with it?

The gun shook in her hand.

“If you do this, you’re no better than who they want you to be,” Matt said in the back of her head. “He doesn’t get to destroy who you are. This? This isn’t you. This would be destroying everything you worked so hard for. We both know you won’t be able to live with yourself if you do this.”

Even as a hallucination he was right, and she hated that.

“I already killed someone today,” she argued. “What would one more change?”

“You want to have more blood on your hands? He doesn’t deserve to die, Eliza, because death would be merciful. He should rot in jail, that’s what he deserves. You defended yourself against the first one. If you killed him, it would be out of spite and revenge, and you’d carry that guilt with you until the day you do. There’s more satisfaction in watching him suffer for what he did for years to come than killing him and offering him the chance to be laid to rest. He would not be held accountable for his actions, he would just be dead. That’s not what you want.”

She wiped the knowing laugh off of Viktor’s face by smashing the barrel into his head, probably leaving him with extensive brain damage.

“Death would be too kind as a punishment for what you did,” she told him. “This isn’t self-defense, this is revenge, and revenge makes people sick.”

“And he doesn’t get to make you sick anymore.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t.”

Killing him had been a foolish idea. She had to get out.

Eliza turned back toward the security footage. Ivan was right, the perimeter was crowded with super soldiers. They looked just as dead as the one who attacked her.

An idea came to mind. Her eyes stayed glued on Matt’s figure in the blurry footage.

“I’m going to get you out of there,” she decided.

Screw the plan, she managed to dethrone Viktor and as soon as law enforcement had him, Hydra would still be gone. If she didn’t do something about her friends’ situation soon though, they would be history before they could even celebrate victory.

Twenty minutes, as it turned out, weren’t a lot of time. Natasha realized that when she jumped the roof to get Steve out of his predicament. The second she stepped up on that pedestal, the first explosion hit. The second one caused the helipad to collapse, sending her and a very distraught Steve several feet to the ground. He shielded her fall, which at least kept her skull intact. Her pride, however, took a brutal hit.

She was about to ask Matt how far he was when the next entrance exploded. He didn’t get very far either. “Are you guys okay?” he asked through the earpiece. His voice came labored.

“I think I broke another rib,” Natasha groaned.

“But other than that, we’re fine,” Steve said.

“Matt, where are you?”

He grunted. “Trapped.” He sniffed the air. “Outside.”

They found him buried under debris and several super soldiers.

“You were supposed to stay away from the doors!” she lectured him once they helped him up.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t exactly get the chance to explain it to these guys before they attacked me,” he said, patting the dust off his suit. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

Natasha checked for a pulse. She nodded. “Yeah, they are.”

“Fuck!” Matt kicked some of the debris aside. The entire wall had collapsed in itself, making it impossible to properly see inside. “We’re out. There is no way back inside. She’s… fuck! She can do whatever she wants now. We might as well have put the gun in her hand. All because I was pushed into the door. I didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. It was almost as if… as if they knew what was gonna happen.”

“Maybe they did,” she said.

“Don’t make me think about it.”

On the other side of the complex, Clint pressed his finger into the earpiece. He long came down from his hideout on one of the viewing points. “What the hell just happened?” he asked.

“We’re fine,” the three answered in unison.

“Eliza?”

“Still inside,” Natasha told him.

“Damn it! Well, we might have a bigger problem on our hands,” he said and looked at the crowd of what he could only call zombies heading toward him and Sam, who did him a favor and returned to a landing next to him. He counted the arrows he had left - five was nowhere near enough for the number of soldiers standing their ground. They were surrounded, the facility completely cut off. He had never seen so many different eye colors and skill palettes at once.

Steve frowned. “Barton, what do you mean?” he checked in.

“You should come see for yourself.”

“Yeah,” said Sam, “We could use some support here.”

The bushes behind the trio shuffled. Matt, slowly regaining his hearing, turned toward the sound that went unnoticed by his partners. “Heartbeats,” he said.

“Where?” Natasha looked around.

He pointed in the direction he first heard the shuffling, the faint footsteps followed by the faintest heartbeats. He could make out six pairs so far. Further away, there seemed to be even more on their way. The uneven beating of their hearts caused goosebumps to spread over his skin. He could feel the air shift, something changed in the atmosphere.

Natasha and Steve couldn’t see anything in the darkness, nor could they hear the same signs Matt did, which put them at a disadvantage. The bushes shuffled again, stronger this time, not to be mistaken with the wind. They were far away from the cage that kept the perimeter safe from the outside world and the woods around them. The spotlights outshone the stars, rendering the sky completely black to the naked eye.

She moved her finger to the earpiece first. “Clint,” she kept her voice low, “We might be facing a problem of our own.”

“Ah, great!” the Hawkeye huffed. “Just when I thought we finally had the upper hand.”

“Where are they coming from?” Sam said. “That’s not normal! Were they hiding in there all this time? And what the hell can they do, they’re just staring at us.”

“They’re waiting for instructions,” Matt murmured.

“What?”

“Instructions,” louder this time. “They’re waiting on orders from somewhere, orders to kill us.”

“They’re the experiments,” said Natasha. “Listen,” she directed her words at the entire team this time, “We don’t know what we’re dealing with and we probably won’t figure it out in time to anticipate behavior.”

“So we react,” Steve told them. “We wait for them to do something and then we react in the hopes that none of us die. When we get a free window, one of us is going to find a way back in to find Eliza. Until then, we just have to get through this.”

Matt offered him one of his batons. He took it gladly, running a hand through his beard. He was positively exhausted, and the black eye he received during the fight on the roof pulsated heavily, the pain traveling up to his temple.

Natasha rolled her shoulders back. “You heard the Captain.”

The bushes parted. “Now,” Matt said just before the creatures stepped out of the dark.

She aimed the gun at the first girl - she couldn’t possibly call her a woman, she was sixteen, at best - targeting the top of her shoulder through the thick scope. Her finger ghosted over the trigger. Just as she was about to raise her metal arm, she pulled her finger back. The projectile traveled the distance, hitting her acquired target where she wanted to. The girl slouched forward at the force.

She reloaded, repositioning. She hit the next target in the same spot. The zombie-like children on the field below her dropped like flies, the sharp projectiles sticking out of their bare shoulders. They wore the same white pants and tank-top combo that she had on, minus the stolen flannel.

Eliza caught sight of Clint’s face through the scope, the red target floating over his nose. He froze, lowering the arrow in his bow. Another five went down around him shortly after one another. Sam halted his movements too, Redwing coming down to rest at his sides. She couldn’t hear them, but surprise was written all over their faces. The silencer made the shots inaudible to the human ear - in their state of mind control, the dropping of bodies went unnoticed until only a handful of soldiers were left standing. The Avengers corned them in this time.

She held her breath. Matt stepped into the line of fire, knocking his baton over the girl’s head that was in front of him. She pulled the trigger at the one next to her, then the next, and the two that were left, Natasha electrocuted with her bracelet.

The five stood in the middle of the empty perimeter now, looking around themselves but finding none. Matt listened. He could hear her heartbeat, but he wasn’t sure where. It came from somewhere above. The more he listened, the closer she came. His own heart picked up at the prospect, drumming against his ribcage, and it threw his senses off for a second. It couldn’t be… her smell hit his nose next, slightly overshadowed by the tangy scent of blood, sweat, gun residue, and smoke. Still, her signature scent lingered on her salty skin. All of the stress from the past hours constricted his airflow. He wasn’t sure whether to laugh, cry or yell at her.

Her feet hit the ground softly. That was why her heartbeat had sounded so far up - she had hidden out on the roof, the vents being the only exit they didn’t consider. Landing gracefully, she looked up at her friends, still a good few feet away from her, but they could see her more clearly now, and the relief in their faces made tears sting in her eyes.

Natasha breathed out. “Did we just win?” she whispered.

Eliza pressed a hand against her side. Her ribs hurt, but nothing could overshadow the sudden feeling of hope that spread through her, making the pain a little more bearable.

“I think so,” she said, approaching them. She kept her steps slow, careful not to cross any unnecessary boundaries. She wasn’t sure how they felt after everything if they even still wanted her back.

“Those were some good fucking shots, kid,” Clint spoke up eventually, and he sounded not at all upset. It gave her the necessary push to come even closer, stepping into the limelight.

Matt looked as if he was about to pass out. “You’re alive,” his voice pushed everyone else into the background.

She nodded, her lip twitching into a smile. “I’m alive,” she breathed.

He removed his mask by the horns. His brown eyes pointed aimlessly in her direction, and she just imagined them staring lovingly into hers as he finally wrapped her up in his arms. Everything would be okay, she realized. With him in front of her, she could believe again. He was so close, she could almost feel his warmth and his soft voice in her ear, whispering sweet nothings until she relaxed into him fully.

Neither of them dared to move closer. “I was so worried I was never going to see you again,” he said.

“I know and I am so sorry.”

“Are you okay?” The mask fell to the grass.

“I’m okay,” she said.

“He didn’t hurt you or…”

“No, it’s, uh,” she shivered slightly at the present feeling of the dried blood on her skin, “It’s not mine.”

His face finally broke into a bright smile. “I thought I lost you.” His steps grew more determined to close even the last space between them.

“Well, you haven’t.” She readied herself.

Eliza believed it was Natasha who taught her to always cover all of her bases, make sure that her back would always be covered, and that she never left any weapons behind. It was Natasha who taught her how to be smart, not to underestimate her opponent, and not to cheer before the war was officially over.

She made all the mistakes she was taught not to. She had hope - she had hoped for one second, but a second was all it took for her small moment of happiness to break like a glass.

“May the legendary Red Angel please stand up!” he roared from behind.

She twirled around, staring at the bloodied man stepping out of the ruins.

“Oh, my…” she growled in the back of her throat, “Haven’t you had enough, Ivan?”

“So heroic,” he spat. “Always thinks she’s better than everyone. A round of applause for the traitor!”

“Come on! You’re too late. You lost. It’s over.”

“Maybe I have,” Ivan raised his gun, “But I won’t be going down alone.”

“Wait-”

“Hail Hydra!”

Dying doesn’t feel like flying. Everyone experiences death differently. For some who have come close to it, seeing the light is an overused metaphor. All they saw was a deep, dark void. Some say they saw a white light urging them to come closer, others might have seen a loved one who passed away, and there are even those who claim they’ve seen their life pass right before their eyes.

Not everyone can remember how it happened, what they saw, or what it felt like. Mostly, it’s a blur. Death comes in different shapes and sizes, and the process is an individual process that can not be reduced to one universal saying like ‘when you die, you will step into the light’. Also, heaven and hell are bullshit until you’re actually dead. No one knows what happens beyond that, but the afterlife doesn’t speak to you, at least not actively.

She had stared into the face of death many times before. The number of near-death experiences she had had was sheer endless. She couldn’t remember just one during which she saw something other than darkness. She passed out, stared into the void, and then woke up eventually to the sound of hospital machines beeping. So naturally, she had never actively been on her deathbed either because every time she was fatally injured, she instantly went into a floating state.

She and Death were old friends. It would come knocking at her door every once in a while, she let it in only for it to leave soon enough again. Every time she almost died, she survived. It had become quite the routine.

This time felt different though. This time, when the bullets entered her body, she remained numb. The first one stung, and the next she barely felt. She wasn’t sure if there was a third one. She could hear a faint shot in the distance, and then the world went quiet.

Eliza lost control of her legs. She waited for the darkness to take over, but her eyes remained open. She didn’t pass out this time, she stayed awake, and as soon as her knees buckled, the fog that clouded her senses disappeared and she was hit with the full noise around her. Fire crackling, screaming, wheezing, and then two strong arms caught her as she fell, the pain still non-existent, and for a moment she believed the bullet hit so deep, she was fully paralyzed. More likely though, her body was protecting itself from the pain, mixing with the adrenaline to give her a softer send-off.

She would not make it out of this one, or else she would have already passed out. Her body was giving her time to adjust to the truth, to say goodbye, and then it was over. She was bleeding out, and not just externally. Every doctor would have told her the same thing – she was completely fucked, and she didn’t need to assess all of her possible injuries to know. With every second, breathing got just a little harder, and her heart did cartwheels against her chest cavity.

Eliza instinctively clawed at the fabric of his suit. Her eyes searched for him, taking embarrassingly slow to do so. The sight broke her already bleeding heart.

“No, no, no, no,” he chanted.

His hand pushed down on the holes in her chest. Where had his gloves gone? The pressure made her hyper-aware of the state she was in, causing her to suck in an even deeper breath. She smelled the copper, the smoke, and the faintest hint of salt in the air.

Matt felt her blood between his fingers, hot and sticky, and the flow just wouldn’t stop. He’d been so close to touching her again. If he had done so sooner, maybe he could have seen Ivan coming, maybe he could have jumped in front of her instead, but he let his emotions distract him. He shot her three times and even then he only stopped because Natasha put a bullet between his eyes. He couldn’t do anything but catch her, his mind went blank.

The sounds her body made were anything but healthy. He could tell her lung was collapsing, she bled into her chest cavity and at least one kidney was completely screwed up. And the blood… God, the blood. There was so much of it, too much, and it just wouldn’t stop. His hands were coated after only a few seconds, her pulse thudding underneath his fingers. It got faster, way too fast, only for it to fade again.

He felt her looking up at him. He smiled, he tried to, but the tears betrayed him.

“Hey,” he said, “You’re okay.” His other hand went to hold her cheek, leaving a trail of blood in the wake of his fingers.

She shuddered. “Matt-“

“Shh, I’m here. You’re okay.”

“We both know that’s not true,” her voice was shaky and thin, something it never was, not even when she was anxious.

He put more pressure on his hand. “You’re gonna be fine, okay? We can fix this. We always do. You and me against the world, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is though. I’m so sorry for leaving you, for leaving a letter like a coward instead of telling you the truth, without saying goodbye, I… I was scared and part of me was angry at you for the nice things you said ‘cause I can’t deal with nice. I had this plan,” she stopped to wheeze, “I had this plan, I wanted to stop Hydra and kill Volkov, and then you’d be safe. I didn’t care what happened to me. I just wanted you to be… to be safe.” The words came more labored now. The oxygen burned in her lungs. “I never wanted you to get hurt by my words, let alone my actions, so I ran. That’s all I know how to do. I can’t… I don’t know what else to do.”

Matt nodded. He allowed the tears to flow freely now. All he could do was hold her, apply pressure to the wound and pray to god that she was going to be okay. Hope was fleeting with every second, but he had to be listening. He had to save her. It wasn’t time yet. She was too young, she had so much left to do. They needed time to figure this out. And she deserved to be happy, to move on. She wasn’t supposed to die so soon.

“I’m so sorry, Matt. I fucked up. This is all my fault. I did this. I… I should have talked to you. I should have been honest with you. I promised not to push you away and I did, and I… I planned for this to go differently, you have to believe me. Things went wrong because I didn’t calculate what Hydra was truly capable of, I was just so blinded by rage and vengeance I didn’t think, and I’m so sorry.”

He stroked her cheek. “It’s okay,” he said. He told her what she wanted to hear, needed to hear, in case this might be the last time. “I forgive you, sweetheart. None of it matters now, all that matters is that you’re gonna be okay. Just focus on your breathing, focus on me.”

Shivers tore through her body. She choked at her tears. She couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to do this.

“I can’t,” she choked out.

“Hey, no! No, you stay with me, alright? This isn’t over.”

“Matt…”

“Stop! You’re not saying goodbye. I’m sorry for pushing you the way I did, and I’m sorry for lashing out. I think part of me pushed you away, too, and I realize now that it was all just a little too much for you. I didn’t mean it. You are the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. I should have shown you that I was there for you, that I wouldn’t judge you for what you were planning to do. If anything, it’s my fault. You needed me and I… I was too caught up in my own feelings to realize you were starting to feel alone. You’re not alone, you never were. God, I’m so sorry…”

She shook her head. “Please, Matt, don’t make this any harder on yourself.” Her hand found his face and he nuzzled into her touch almost instantly. The low temperature of her skin caused a tiny sob to escape his lips. “It’s okay,” she breathed.

“No, none of this is okay,” he said. “I should have heard him coming. I was supposed to protect you.“

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”

“Look at you, comforting me.” He chuckled.

Her eyelids fluttered.

“No! Sweetie, stay with me. Don’t close your eyes.”

She was so tired, still, she forced her eyes to open again.

He smiled down at her. “There you go. Hey,” once again, he rubbed her cheek. “You gotta hold on just a little bit longer. Remember how you promised me you wouldn’t die on me? Yeah, you have to keep that promise.”

“Matthew,” she said his name, and he knew what she was about to say had to be serious. She only said his name when she really wanted him to listen, not that he ever did anything else. She needed to brand her words into his brain. “We both know I’m not going to make it out of this,” she said.

Matt shook his head. “No.”

“I won’t make it.”

“That’s not true. I’ll get you out here, get you fixed up and you’ll be okay. You have to be, sweetheart, that’s the deal.”

Stage one, denial, and she wasn’t even dead yet.

“Matt, please. I need you to promise me something.”

“No, this is not goodbye,” he insisted. “I refuse to let you say goodbye.”

“Promise me you won’t blame yourself,” she said. “Promise me you will move on. Promise me you will try, okay? Promise me you will find someone to grow old with. I need to know you’re going to be okay.” She nodded her head, using all her strength to run her hand through his ruffled locks. “Promise me, Matthew!”

He sobbed, “I promise.”

He could never be happy with anyone else the way he was with her.

“But you’re not going to die.” There it was again, the endless hope, the devoted catholic.

She smiled. “That’s what makes you so remarkable. You always see the good in everything, even when you can hear and feel all that is wrong with the world. Can you feel my heartbeat right now?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Memorize it.”

“I already have. I did from the start. It’s a sound that never grows old.”

“Good. I don’t want you to forget that I did care about you. I cherish you. You are so good, Matthew, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to live a full life without pain.”

“Eliza, please, stop.” And he only used her name when he was truly upset.

She sucked in another sharp breath. Bad idea. Her chest heaved as she coughed, the taste of her blood spreading around her mouth. It was everywhere, closing her esophagus. She lurched forward, spitting the blood onto the grass. He held her hair back.

This was it. Her eyes grew heavy once again. Her mind was lulled into a comfortable fog where nothing seemed to exist. She could no longer hear the noise, only his heartbeat, and feel the hand on her cheek.

His eyebrows furrowed, lips tilted downward.

“I’m not in pain,” she told him. “It’s okay. To be loved by you,” her breathing shuddered, slowing by the second, “was the greatest gift this life could have given me.”

Matt leaned his forehead against hers. “Please,” he begged.

She coughed again. “You can let me go.”

“I don’t want to let you go.”

“You have to.”

“I can’t.”

“Matt, I’m dying.”

“No, not on my watch. I won’t let that happen.”

Her voice dropped, eyes demanding. “Let me go,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“I can’t lose you,” he cried quietly into her hair.

On the next breath, she choked.

“Please, don’t leave me. I can’t do this alone. Sweetheart, please.”

Her eyes closed, but didn’t reopen to blink. He shook her, but she didn’t respond. Her heart was still beating, faintly but it was there. He held onto that as he kissed her icy forehead.

“I love you,” he told her, hoping she heard. “That’s why you need to hold on, you hear me? I love you so much…”

The following events passed by in slow-motion. He could hear the whirring of chopper blades in the distance. Boots hit the ground. Orders were yelled.

Natasha knelt next to him, touching his shoulder while cradling her lifeless head in her hands at the same time. She had unshed tears in her eyes, but not all hope was lost. She told him that.

Matt looked up in a panic at the footsteps.

“They’re the good guys,” she assured him. “They’re SHIELD. It’s okay. We only have a short time window. We need to get her out of here before it’s too late.”

“We’re too far from the nearest hospital,” he whispered. She wasn’t going to make it this far.

“I know a place. I’m not losing her. She’s supposed to outlive me, not the other way around, so you just have to trust me.”

He hesitated, though when he listened to her fading heartbeat, he decided that he had to try everything he could to save her. She had to come back to him. So, he gave in.

Natasha nodded to Clint. He snapped his finger, uttering an order to Sam. He took off.

“We need to get her into the car,” he said to Matt.

As Steve was about to take her from him, he slapped his hand away. He hooked his arm underneath her legs, the other supporting her back. He hoisted her up.

“Show me where,” he said.

“This way!” Natasha waved, knowing he could very well sense the motion.

He had never run this fast before in his life.

In the backseat of the Rangerover, he held her in his lap once again. She shivered and there was nothing he could do about it but to listen to her suffer quietly. It was torture of the highest order.

“Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy Name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, As it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, As we forgive them that trespass against us.

He wasn’t sure what else to do but to pray. He took her hand, intertwining their fingers together, and he bowed over their joined fingers, closing his eyes.

“And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil.”

She stirred. “I’m so cold,” she didn’t say it consciously.

Matt held onto her tighter, trying to supply more warmth. She was bleeding out, there wasn’t much he could do. Not even a blanket would have helped, only delayed the inevitable. He wanted her to be comfortable but at the same time, allowing her comfort would have been succumbing to the reality that maybe, she was dying. Maybe he would lose her and their last proper conversation would have been a fight. He apologized, but there was so much more making-up left to do. He wanted more time with her, he wanted to show her how much she meant to him. He needed more time.

His lips pressed against her forehead, now hot and coated in sweat. “I know, sweetie,” he said, “but you gotta hold on, okay? We’re almost there.”

“So cold,” she breathed again. Her lip quivered as another wave of shakes riddled her body. “Hold me?”

He was startled at the question.

“Please,” her voice cracked.

He pulled her into his chest. Her chest heaved, if it was from her ragged breathing or a choked-up sob, he couldn’t tell. He was too focused on her fading heartbeat.

“I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Thud, thud thud, thud. Thud. Thud…

Matt gasped, “No.”

He touched her wrist, but nothing. He placed two fingers against her throat, but nothing again. He didn’t trust his hearing this time, perhaps her heartbeat was just too weak for him to hear, but that was possible. Her breath no longer fanned his face and she turned even colder, going limp in his arms. He shook his head, this couldn’t be happening.

“No!” he said, louder this time.

Natasha turned around from her place in the passenger seat. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Her heart…” he felt nothing. His body sunk to the bottom of the ocean with stones attached to his ankles, the water filling his lungs. He couldn’t even breathe. “She’s not breathing. She’s not…”

“Oh, my God!”

Steve hit the gas.

“C’mon,” Matt did the most conscious thing and brought his fist down on her chest.

Nothing happened. She had lost so much blood, his suit was soaked, and her heart simply couldn’t pump anymore.

“Stay with me, sweetie, you gotta stay with me.”

The car drifted as it came to a halt. He kept chanting the Lord’s Prayer over her limp body, crying out for his help, crying for him to bring her back. He wasn’t supposed to take her just yet. It was far too soon for her to leave. God didn’t deserve her, she still had a whole life ahead of her. Matt, he’d been through enough. It should have been him, he thought. He deserved it more than she did. She hadn’t even lived for herself enough to die so soon.

Her body was soundless and cold. He wasn’t used to her being like this. The familiar tune of her heart was gone, he couldn’t even count the number of breaths she took in a minute or concentrate on the way her body felt next to his as she was cold but never too cold for him. He could no longer feel a pulse, even with his hand around her throat, trying to find any sign of life.

As her heart stopped, so did his.

“No,” he growled. “You don’t get to do this. Not today. God can’t have you yet.” He tilted his head back, eyes directed toward the sky. “You hear that, you greedy son of a bitch? You’re not taking her. This is not your decision to make. You can’t just rip the life from her. I refuse to let you do that. You’re supposed to be good a-and merciful, so don’t you fucking dare, you hear me? Not today.”

The car doors opened. Steve tugged at him from behind, but he refused to let her go. In the distance, he heard the squeaky sound of small wheels scraping against the asphalt. Natasha screamed something at him, but there was cotton in his ears. He couldn’t hear them, he couldn’t hear anything but the air whooshing by them.

He prayed as he lifted her out of the Rangerover, carrying her as if he could see where he was going. There was still hope. There had to be.

He placed her down on what he believed to be a gurney because he was told to. All the while his hand stayed in hers, holding onto her.

They wheeled her into a building and he followed, not once easing his hold. Though when they reached a set of automatic doors, he was torn away. He fought back with all his might, but the person behind him was much stronger.

“Let me go!” he grunted.

“You can’t help her,” it was Steve, “They can. They’re going to do everything they can to bring her back, I promise. You just have to let them do their jobs.”

“She doesn’t want to be alone!”

“She’s not alone.”

“I’m not letting her die… I have to be with her.”

“You can’t do anything, Matt. You’d only make things worse.”

“But… I… Oh, God. I can’t breathe, I can’t…”

Matt went limp in his arms, falling to the floor. The gates to hell opened. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, the excruciating pain in his soul that reached his heart. With every beat, his chest constricted and he felt like suffocating. He clawed at his suit.

Steve went down with him, his arms around the writhing man’s shoulders until he stiffened, and he let out a scream that echoed through the walls of what he suspected to be a hospital. The scream subsided into sobs, tears streaming down her face, and he could no longer keep composure.

She was gone, carted away somewhere he couldn’t hear or feel her, and he was left alone pondering whether she was going to make it out alive or not. God didn’t listen, he never did. He prayed and prayed and prayed and in the end, it would never be enough. It was as if Matt didn’t deserve the lord’s guidance, as if his word meant nothing to him.

Steve held him as he cried. The man clawed at his arms, desperate for comfort while at the same time, in pain from how close he was. He wasn’t going anywhere. He persisted, knowing the pain he was in all too well. Perhaps that was why his defenses crumbled and silent tears started to stream down his face.

Natasha slid down the wall opposite them. Her wide eyes were fixated on an empty spot on the ground. She couldn’t breathe. The world didn’t seem real. Everything went by in a blur. She wasn’t sure what was real and what was a bad dream anymore. Surely she would wake up in a cold sweat soon, somewhere in a safe house in Belgium, and Eliza would be fine right in New York. Hydra wouldn’t exist and the world would still be intact.

She opened parts of her zipper before she burst out crying. It was an ugly cry, one that tore her chest apart from the inside and caused her head to explode. She pulled her knees up to her chest, shielding her from the curious and pitiful eyes of the people around her. She had tried to stay strong, for her sake and Matt’s. She tried to stay strong because that’s what sisters do for each other. She tried to remain her hope intact – Eliza was the strongest person she knew, she couldn’t just die. But she did exactly that. In front of her eyes, all life left her body. A corpse. Dead. Her hope died the second her heart stopped.

The doctors could try to revive her, operate to the point where all of her organs were gone, and she still wouldn’t make it. She knew she wouldn’t. This was final, and admitting that to herself hurt even more.

Clint came sprinting around the corner, Sam in tow. As soon as he saw the sight in front of him, he threw his hands up, tangling them in his hair.

“No,” he whispered. “No, this can’t be happening. We got here on time. We… no! Nat, please tell me she isn’t… Please! Steve, Matt, anyone. Tell me this is not happening right now. Tell me I’m hallucinating.”

Natasha reached out for him, sobbing so hard the words wouldn’t even come out. He fell to his knees before her, taking the shaking woman into his arms.

“She isn’t dead. She can’t be dead. She’s not supposed to die, not before us. She’s fucking twenty-three years old… this is too soon. Please, tell me I’m wrong. Talk to me!” He shook her by the shoulders, but she only sobbed harder in his arms.

Clint caved, cradling her head and holding his best friend against him. He couldn’t cry, he was numb. He still couldn’t believe it, and he refused to until someone actually said the words into his face.

I’m so sorry for your loss.

Denial is a strong emotion, that’s why it is included in the five stages of grief and often the strongest. The world doesn’t seem real when you lose someone and it’s easy to pretend they never died in the first place. It protects your heart and your soul from the crushing weight of loss.

And denial was exactly what they found themselves in, their only hope hanging on my a thread thinner than a piece of paper.

“I should get you guys some tea or somethin’,” Sam murmured. He wasn’t sure how to react. To serve was the only way he knew how to deal with the oncoming feeling of despair.

One of them had to be strong. One of them had to catch the others. He couldn’t lie down and cry when everyone around him was already falling apart. They had the right to, and he had to make sure they were okay.

Eliza would have wanted him to do so, and he wanted to honor her wishes. If she died, he had to make sure she lived on. Someone had to do it.

Someone had to face the truth, the inevitable, and though Sam hated the position it put him in, but falling apart had never been an option for him, not once in his life.

“Sam,” Steve called after him.

He stopped.

“Don’t leave, not yet.”

Sam swallowed, but nodded nonetheless. He walked over to one of the plastic chairs, lowering himself down on it. He felt suffocated by all the pain in the air. He had lost friends before, but the sight before him was truly the most heartbreaking by far. It crushed his soul even though he and Eliza barely knew each other.

A hand found his knee. Steve held onto him while he held Matt, barely holding on himself. It was the same for him – breaking wasn’t an option.

If Eliza had been there, she would have been more than crushed to see what her death would cause. And she would never forgive herself for that.

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