61. Terrible Liar

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Bethesda, Maryland

Ambulances I knew were quick when in an emergency, but for me, the ride felt like forever. I was in the back of the truck, so I had no idea where we were or how fast we were traveling. Soon the doors of the truck were opened and more EMTs rushed in the guide the gurney into the hospital.

"He's gonna be okay, right?" I asked as they trolleyed Fury out of the truck.

But the EMT must have noticed the blood that was painted all over my bicep and hands. There was also some blood on the side of the wall I had been leaning against. "Miss I think we should check you in and treat that arm," one says.

"No. No, I've got this handled. I want to stay with him," I gestured to Fury.

One of the EMTs sighed and put their hand on my back trying to guide me to another room, "Miss you've lost a lot of blood. I think it's safer that you—"

"No!" I shoved the EMT away from me and followed Fury's gurney into the operating theater.

I stand behind the glass; it was a small room where we could watch the operation take place. Although one bullet went straight through and managed to hit me, the other two were still lodged inside him and needed to be removed.

I watched intently. I saw every slice and every motion of the tweezers trying to pull and move pieces of his insides. I'd seen stuff like this before. Being in the military I'd seen bullets rip through someone so badly their insides were slipping out of them. I'd seen it all. Desensitized from it all. However, when it's someone you know—someone you care about—it hurts.

I tried to watch but my vision was obstructed by a glaze of tears as a hand was pressed on the small of my back. I didn't even have to turn to know who it was. I leaned my head on his shoulder as tears began to flow.

We stayed in this position forever. The comfort I felt here was one I'd never felt before. He was so gentle with me, we were so similar yet so different and we both felt the same in this situation. We knew what each other were feeling. We could read each other so well without having to say a single word.

Natasha rushed into the room moments later and stood to my left, peering through the glass. "Is he gonna make it?"

Steve sighed still engulfing me in his arms, "I don't know."

"Tell me about the shooter," Natasha asked.

I never asked Steve about the shooter myself. I was too caught up in Fury that it never came out of my mouth. Besides, I haven't said a single word since stepping in here.

"He's fast...and strong. Had a metal arm," Steve described.

"You mean a prosthetic arm?" I sniffed as Maria entered the room and stood beside Natasha.

"Ballistics?" Asked Natasha.

"Three slugs, no rifling. Completely untraceable," Maria informed us.

"Soviet-made," Nat realized.

Maria confirmed it by saying, "Yeah."

The room was once again silent. But not for long as Nick's state started to deteriorate. We watch as the surgeons frantically start prodding and picking at Fury's body before they get the defibrillators out.

"Don't do this to me, Nick," Natasha pleaded, her eyes beginning to water too.

I felt as though my own heart stopped when they tried and tried. Shocking him twice before getting no response from Fury. I didn't seem real until one doctor spoke up:

"Time of death, 1:03 a.m."

I turned away from the screen and slid down the glass until I hit the floor. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed. It broke me that maybe Steve and I could've done something to stop it. Maybe we said too much?

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