Intro

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(Y/N)'s POV

Whenever I try to do something good, I fuck it up.

"It's okay!! Hey, it's okay, look at me! Come on, stay with me!! Stay with me alright?" I said to the little boy with tears in my eyes. He was probably around eight years old.

"Thank you for protecting me" he said, just before his eyes closed and he stopped breathing.

My heart skipped a beat. He's dead. It was my job to protect him, and I couldn't. I couldn't save him.

And there I sat. In the middle of the battle, with a little boy's body laying lifeless in my arms.

"You did what you could, (Y/N). Don't blame yourself for this." A voice said from behind me. It was Natasha.

I didn't answer. Even though I knew deep down in my heart that she was right, I couldn't help thinking about all the things I could've done to prevent this from happening.

So I just sat there, crying over the dead body. I don't know for how long. It could have been hours, minutes, seconds.

that was three months ago.

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